hwyonerentals-blog

[flower-boi16]

I think what's actually alarming about Helluva Boss and Vivziepop is that the shower suffers from heavy creator-fan enmeshment, and the writers/Vivziepop don't see themselves as the problem for it. It's like they see themselves as the victims, too, while encouraging their fandom's toxic mindset and behaviors.

The writers/Vivziepop are not only too entangled with their fans, but they're THINKING like fan artists/fanfic writers instead of actually making a show. There's a difference between writers of a show and fanfic writing. When you take up the mantel to create a show you have to carry yourself in a way and write your show with a point otherwise you end up with shows like Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel, Miraculous Lady Bug, SVFOE, SPOP, and other shows that fall into that category. Some of them focus more on the shipping than the point of their show to begin with.

What makes a good show is having that distinction or maintaining that professionalism. Creators of shows should NEVER let themselves sink into the cesspool of their Fandoms because they should be focused on their story/message instead of all this shipping/woobing bullshit.

TLDR: Helluva Boss never had potential with VivziePop holding the reigns to begin with. It's too disorganized and unfocused, and with the Fan Enmeshment, it was never going to grow or expand from its fanfic-y feeling. If the creator of the show never grew up, we should never expect the show to grow, too.

Though it is a shame since it could have been charming, had someone more professional taken the show.

Viv definitely was never cut out to handle a big project like this. I’ve said this many times before, but ya, Viv writes like a fanfic writer; everything with how messy the structuring of how her shows is and how poorly they are planned makes me think this.

It reminds me of when I tried to make my first fanfic and just went in without a plan with how to structure it which led to me just abandoning it early on. Viv writes like that.

She didn't listen to criticism of her Zoophobia comic and she still isn’t listing here. She shifted the focus of HB away from the premise to shipping nonsense and now we have this weird mess of a show that doesn’t even know what it wants to be anymore.

Season 2 seems to prioritize relationship drama over the actual premise which caused the show’s downfall. Hazbin feels a bit less fan-ficy but it’s still very messy.

Viv just crams too much shit into too little time which results in the pacing being awful. She paces her shows like a fan fic writer. It feels like she only came In with a small understanding of how show running works and jumped right into the industry because she was excited to show off her gizzalion OCs she had since high school.

Everything about HH/HB feels amateur. I really think that before you get into storytelling you need to actually study how to create good stories, like there are YouTube videos out there you could watch for free that give a run down of what is good or bad writing.

You don’t need to spend 20+ in school to be a good writer but you need to have a basic understanding of how to even write your ideas before you start making stories…which Viv clearly does not.

HB Season 2 in general doesn’t feel like a natural continuation of the first season. It feels like a fan-fic written by a fan after season 1 ended posted on wattpad that the show runners decided to animate and voice into a full season.

Viv should have learned how to run a show before jumping into something as ambitious as this, but she didn’t, and look at what we got.

[solarwoniii]

dirty - kim sunoo

THIS FANFIC CONTAINS SMUT !! PROCEED READING AT YOUR OWN RISK

contains - fem!sub!reader, dom!sunoo, established relationship, punishment sex, no written penetration, vibrator, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denial, (tell me if i missed any!)

word count - 454

sunoo wouldn't consider himself a dirty person. in fact, he would make the argument that he was quite the opposite. he never thought in such ways of anyone, he was the kind and gentlemanly boyfriend that anyone could easily swoon over.

but you awakened something in him.

a different side which he didn't even know existed.

so when he found himself pinning you against the bed, he really wasn't sure how he'd gotten there.

well. he did know how he got there.

you'd been testing him all day.

leaning close to whisper the most foul things in his ears.

purposely brushing yourself against him.

looking up at him with that look that you knew made him go crazy every single time you spoke to him.

wearing his fucking clothes while doing all of it.

when the both of you finally got home it was as if he had no control over himself. he immediately grabbed you the first chance he could and started kissing you.

even if it was so dirty of him, he couldn't help but admit how cute you looked under him like this.

so overstimulated from all the edging that you couldn't speak.

shaking and babbling his name.

tears running down your cheeks.

you gasped as he turned the vibrator up a little higher, grabbing his shirt.

"s-sunoo please i want you so bad." you whimpered.

"hmm, i don't think so. bad girls don't get cock, sweetheart."

a prolonged whine left your lips at his words, making him chuckle.

"maybe if you listened to me i would have rewarded you." he said teasingly, "but you chose to be a brat."

you felt the knot in your stomach start to tighten again for what felt like the millionth time, eyes welling up with tears as he rubbed the vibrator against your sensitive clit, cranking it up to the highest speed it got to. a broken moan escaped you at the sensation, grabbing onto his shirt.

"s-s-sun m' gonna cum-" you cried, half expecting him to stop when he heard that like he had all the other times you'd gotten close, but this time he seemed a little kinder, allowing it to happen.

"go on, cum for me sweetheart."

your body twitched as your climax crashed over you. sunoo turned off the vibrator, gently holding your squirming hips down on the mattress, landing a few soft slaps on your messy clit to help you ride it out, "that's it, good girl. you took it all so well."

he leaned down to kiss you messily as your breathing calmed down.

"are you ready for me?"

"h-huh? but you said..."

he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head, "i was only playing with you." he whispered, "just don't pull shit like that again, or you really won't get it."

maybe this was dirty. but it felt amazing.

[nyctorune]

Izumi Sena & Leo Tsukinaga x a messy, messy gn!artistic reader

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Synopsis: How would Izumi and Leo act with a partner who’s a tragically messy artist with extra messy on the side.

Tw? Unless you find fluff and pretend constant disappointment absolutely mortifying, there’s none!

Author note: I’ve fallen down the bottomless pit of Knights yet again and now i’m writing x reader fanfic to quell my depressing thirst for fictional idols. I don’t think the bible approves of me guys-

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- Izumi Sena -

- Oh great, ANOTHER Leo. At least you’re not running around at the dead of night getting lost and losing your phone…. Right? RIGHT?!?

- He loves you! He does! It’s just… When he sees the remains of your 3AM artist mayhem it just makes him question everything. Just a bit.

- The sketchbooks… The loose paper… The pens, pencils, and markers all over the place… God it haunts him in his dreams. I mean, how does a marker make it behind the GOD DAMNED PILLOWS?!? HELLO?!?!

- Has seriously considered buying restraints. Don’t test him… He will. (must we remember his Makoto moment…?)

- He thinks it’s stupid that you trash so much art. You’re going to suffocate your trashcan with all that beautiful messy art.

- And don’t think you can get away with digital art!! He’s seen your file names!!! Disgusting. How do you even manage to find anything? You don’t? Explains a lot.

- It doesn’t matter where you crash, as you’ll always find yourself back in bed with all your tasmanian devil destruction cleanly put away.

- He always makes sure you get enough sleep, enough to eat, and plenty to drink. And don’t go slouching around like an idiot! It’ll ruin that pretty pretty appearance of yours… Seriously, SOOOO annoying.

- When you show him your recent art piece that has survived Hurricane Y/N, he smiles, just a bit. Butttt like the tsundere he is he quickly covers it up and says your eyes are just playing tricks. You draw too much. Go to sleep before he has to go through the hassle of getting you glasses!!!

- What’s that? You want to know his opinion? Well, of course you do! He is the MOST qualified person for this. He is a model after all~~ He gives you a healthy balance of compliments and criticism. He knows what getting crappy criticism is like, and he never wants you to experience that too. Especially from him.

- Once you’ve left, he smiles and admires your work. He loves it! It doesn’t matter if it’s the next Picasso masterpiece or not, it was made by you and that’s special. He really wants to see where your art goes, and he will stop at nothing to make sure that becomes a reality.

- Leo Tsukinaga -

- Crazy artist two, electric boogaloo.

- The team rocket theme plays when the two of you are seen together.

- “PREPARE FOR TROUBLE! AND MAKE IT DOUBLE!”

- Leo is genuinely SO happy he’s with you. Seriously. He’s never letting you go. Forget Anzu when he has YOU! :D His best, most beautiful muse!

- Naru walks into your shared room with Leo, it’s literally all paper and various stationary. She can’t even see you two!! She sighs and closes the door, she can’t take this much longer….

- Leo sees your art, and he glows. Like, LITERALLY glows. (god applied glow ink to him for 1800 seconds.)

- Your art just makes him so happy and giggly. He’s already hugging you and bouncing up and down like no tomorrow.

- Sometimes, he sees music in your art. Like, both figuratively and literally. There are now at least 20 songs that have come from the back of your sketchbook and 20 more that was written i n your sketchbook.

- If you were to EVER degrade your art in any fashion, well, Leo will get very grumpy. And whiny. And clingy. He’s NOT leaving your side and he will NOT shut up until you agree that all your art is beautiful and you’re super talented and super attractive and amazing and funny and- it never ends…

- There have been multiple instances where all the idols in Ensemble Square have found washed up and stranded pages filled with doodles and music notes. They’re just… not even surprised. They’ve even made a competition from it!

- Whoever finds the most abandoned children of the artistic mayhems ™️ gets *idk insert something that sounds appealing i can’t think of anything.*

- Now, if you decide to come with Leo to Florence, well…. Hell hath no fury like an Izumi annoyed. Buttttt that’s another story for another time ;)

I hope yall enjoyed my little head cannons for my favorite two idiots. If any of you wanna request then please check my pinned post! Have a good rest of the next 12 hours :)

[11thsdoctress]

“my point is...” [reader x Doctor]

Fandom: Doctor Who

Ship: 11th Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 1144 words

Summary: After countless adventures with the Doctor, and an incident that left you mildly injured, He orders you to stay at home, but you kinda disobeyed, since you had nothing to do, which leads to a surprise when you get home.

Warnings: none that I can think of

(a/n: it’s my first fanfic after literal *years* of not writing stories and I have been on multiple brainrot runs, and I thought, might as well write one for one of my favorite characters of all time, hope what i wrote isn’t too terrible, happy reading!)

Your adventures with the Doctor were never described as “normal”, truth be told it’s far from the norm, and most of the thrilling adventures were fun, some of the time they were dangerous, but both of you and the Doctor knew that.

Being with the Doctor would also include some near-death experiences, and meeting otherworldly beings, but what you weren’t prepared for was the emotional bond with the Doctor, you thought it wouldn’t go further than a platonic friendship, but yet, here you are, slowly developing more feelings for him, caring for him, more than a friend would care. You admired the Doctor after all, but unsure of what would happen or how would he feel if or when he finds out, and afraid of the change that could happen and what would he say to you.

However, after a certain incident that happened last week, where there were claw marks on your arm, and some cuts on your neck and face, it sounded serious for a bit, but thanks to the Doctor’s medicine and supplies in the TARDIS, your wounds were almost fully healed.

You wanted to go on more adventures out there, insisting and trying to convince the Doctor that you were completely fine, and the wounds you had were not that serious at all, but He was still adamant in his decision that he told you to stay at home, without any further explanation aside from the incident last week, It was “Doctor’s orders” apparently.

This made you question if you were still needed by him, or if you were just a burden to him, after all, it was your fault for being careless while helping the Doctor, all you wanted to do was help but you got injured in the end, and there was a pang of lingering guilt by making him worry about you when he was patching you up in the infirmary. You hated this feeling every time it came into mind, but it was worse today, considering the length of action he had to do, which ended up with his decision for you to stay at home.

It’s been a couple of days since the Doctor left to go on some space adventure without you, it was unusual for him to go on adventures solo, and insisted for you to stay behind in your house.

A few minutes passed since midnight, and you were on the way back from working late, obviously kind of disobeying the Doctor’s orders but you couldn’t help it, you had nothing to do, and it’s extra cash, so why the hell not?

These thoughts wander as the night during the walk home seemed darker than usual as you were trying to get your mind off the Doctor, worried that he was going to be gone for another day, or worse, something bad had happened to him. 

Fumbling your hands in the pockets of your coat, looking for the keys to your house, as you were a minute away from the front door, there was a certain feeling in your gut that something was different. 

You stopped at the front door of your house, and saw a folded piece of paper taped on the door, a bit concerned, you grabbed the paper carefully, before looking around, making sure no one watching. Opening the paper, there were only two words written on the paper,

“Missed Me?” 

Nervously, you rush to grab the keys, and as soon as you tried to insert the keys into your door, it suddenly opened and you were pulled in and pinned against the wall by the Doctor with some mild scratches and cuts on his face, accompanied by his messy, disheveled hair.

It took you a while to calm down and catch your breath, but after you do so, your faces were inches away,

“I thought I told you to stay at home,” he says as he looks into your eyes.

“I’m a grown adult, I can take care of myself.” you retorted as you rolled your eyes

“Still, I can’t have you running around and potentially lose you when I’m not with you.” He leaned his forehead against yours as he relaxes a bit, “At least I can relax now, knowing you’re safe and sound here, with me” 

“What do you mean?” you ask, confused by his sudden sentiment and bravery, you weren’t used to him telling you that he wasn’t relaxed when you were not around.

“Look, ever since last week, I regrettably put you in harm’s way and I realized I can’t live with the fact or bear the thought of losing you because of my irresponsibility.” he explained, “And because of that, I decided to tell you to stay here, even though it hurts every single time I had to leave to venture off out there without you, and I also regret that decision.” He looks down and you could feel the pain and guilt that was in him. “I hated the fact that every time I found something or the times I wanted a second thought or someone to share ideas, I turn around and forgot that you weren’t there.”

“So what’s your point, Doctor?” you look at him and cupped his cheeks, making him look into your eyes, looking at his, there was a hint of nervousness in his mind.

“My point is..” he sighs and closes his eyes before closing the distance by placing his lips onto yours, he was gentle but there was a mix of aggression like he was waiting for this moment for a long time. After a moment of processing, you slowly kissed back, and he was continuing this kiss by going deeper and letting his hands roam from your wrists to your waist, slowly caressing and pulling you closer even more, before snaking one of his arms around your waist and the other hand holding the back of your head.

After a while, you both pulled away, both trying to catch your breaths after the moment, he looks at you again, “the question now is, are you okay with this?” he asked, wanting confirmation, “This being, You, and Me, together.” He said as he held your face.

“You should know by now Doctor, I would like this, you and me together.” You repeated his line as your hand played with his hair, making him release all the tension he had built in him.

“I love you so much.” He says as he smiled and looks at you before kissing you on your forehead, cheeks, lips, and neck.

He pulls away but still held your hand as he planted one more kiss on the top of your hand, “Shall we?” he gestures to the TARDIS that was parked in the living room. You nodded and smiled as you followed him to the next adventure, wherever and, or whenever.

(a/n: again, i hope it’s not too terrible, i wanna try writing more again, since i kinda rediscovered why i liked storytelling, but yeah, hope you enjoyed this read!)

[crisismoth]

I LOVE HELSKNIGHT RAAAAAAGHHH I NEED TO RIP AND TEAR

hes so. theres like 10 different helsknights running around in my brain. its like one kf those videos that are like 'top 10 cats: numero uno: gatito de leche' .

yeah helsknight numero dias. is redstone and skulk helsknight. he is having a MIDLIFE CRISIS. (more like. ambigous amiunt of time left life crisis) hdhsh. hes a angry guy pretending he doesnt do feelings (hes emo tbh) and he will KILL to protect his friends. hes a theatre kid. also bro got some religious stuff going on (erm. relatable!!!) . um i forgor what i was gonna say.

helsknight numero nueve!!!! like a hiuse on fire helsknight!!! 🔥 . bro got ripped from his life in hels hes stuck in hermitcraft (womp womp.) hes commiting to the bit (VILLAINRY AND ARSON) . hes a sad ouppy he wants to go home!!!! his ass may seem malicous but hes just winging it bro is LOST. desperate man driven to extreme actions. <333

helsknight numero ocho!!! my oomf helsex's helsknight. bro is HAIRY . she is SERVING 24/7. serving what you may ask. um. messy relationships!! and swords! . also. boob window armor. YEAHHHHH. a true icon.

helsknight numero siete: atp i dont got names or specific sources just vibes. this helsknight is CONCERNED about welsknigjt. he is like 'get ur shit together or ill fight you (with swords cuz HES A KNIGHT). of course hed never admit it. 'no i hate wels.' yeahhh right. then why would you do a rap battle with him huh. huh

helsknight numero seis: call this guy serious sam (hels. not a sam but ALLITERQTION )bro hunts wels for sport. he is EVIL (yay) . and mysterous. type of guy to show up and battle you in your dreams(nightmares cuz hes gonna win). unapologetically bad guy. [but is it morally bad if its like. judt what you are. his entire existsnce is born from wels self hatred. idk man.] . this guy is cool and will shove welsknight down the stairs (clankclankclankclankCLUNK.)

helsknight numero cinco: this one. hes just a guy who chills in hels. yeah he'll do anrap battle why not. hes a little prideful but hes just vibing. dgaf vibes. too busy being cool and scheming with his fellow alter egos.

helsknight numero quatro : ok. this one im only remembering now because bro is too tragic. fella from summers glooming by silverskye. imagine the fanfic ur from having glooming in the title you are a GONER. hes. he did what he could but theres only so much control over ur life when you live in the shadow of someone else. get him out of there!!!!

helsknight numero tres: idk what kinda ordering this is tbh. i know theres mkre versions of helsknight but gonna be real i might be out of distinct enough versions. maybe im a fake fan. no... it cant be. NEVER GIVE UP!!!! helsknight has awesome vibes. the dark armor, give him a flaming plume and fire powers... yeahhh thats awesome. omg ok yeah that brings up

helsknifht numero dos: DEMON helsknight. horns. fire. swag. and a tail that is so fun to draw. and evil lizard eyes!!!!. love this helsknifht. im gonna be real its 1am and i started writing this post at like midnight? because i had to express how much inlove helsknight bit i got carried away tbh. like the paint on my helsknight drawing is dry i can keep working on jt. i gotta be done writing this soon.

that brings us to... helsknight numero uno!!!!

this helsknight... is the helsknight INSIDE OF YOU. go get a stixk and pretwnd to be a knight and have an epic rap battle and channel ur evil swag. everyone can be helsknight......

ok the end. this post really got away from me. i aint readding allat etc so im posting as is. for the helsknight fans 🔥 🔥 🔥 . beautiful quick keyboard smash turned bit turned poorly written character analysis turned run on sentence. ok bye.

[mutival]

Okay so I wrote a Cassandra fanfic

Can’t believe I’m writing about a cannibal but here we are. Any constructive criticism is always appreciated! English isn’t my first language and this is like the third fanfic I’ve ever written. Idk if Cassandra is acting like she would canonically so PLEASE lecture me on that as well if need be

Thank you!

Fluff/Sleeping/Cassandra Dimitrescu x reader RL

Opening night is always messy backstage, I now know that better than anyone else.

After my Juliet, Cassandra Dimitrescu herself, and I managed to round the show up, we were far too busy to properly reflect and fraternize, much to her dismay. Bouquet after bouquet, fan after never-ending fan, there was no end to the amount of socializing

Cassandra had to do before we could properly discuss the play. However, I wasn’t let off scot-free either. The second the curtains dropped, I was whisked off to the side door by the producer, where I fell face-first onto my roommate, Daniela, in the cold night. The darling girl was holding flowers, of which now there were none left unscathed. She yelped when she fell backwards, softening my blow. ‘’MC, the flowers!’’ Daniela exclaimed, feeling the thorns of the roses puncture her perfect abs. I haphazardly shot up, nearly collapsing again from the strain. However, as fast as I rose to my feet, I was slammed down again by the weight of my lovely second roommate, Angie, flanking me from the left. I crashed into a piece of decor, promptly catching Angie but leaving nothing salvageable of the castle wall prop. The ruckus made me wonder if Cassandra would leave her socialite group to come check what all the noise was about. Angie practically squealed when she finally stabilized, straddling my hips. ‘’Roomie!’’ She yelped, I only noticed just now she had a celebratory wine bottle in her hands. ‘’Courtesy of the Dimitrescu winery!’’ She pressed it into my hands, a cute silver ribbon covering the neck. Daniela rubbed the back of her neck, seemingly looking uncomfortable. ‘’Don’t tell Cass or my mom. I kind of-’’ Angie cut her off. ‘’She stole it!’’ At that, I gasped. ‘’Dani?!’’ I scolded her, holding the evidence of a crime that could get me in some deep shit with the family I so desperately wanted to impress. Dani gave me an awkward grin. ‘’Only the best for our star!’’

Star.

‘’Star.. Yeah, damn right! I am a star now, am I not?’’ I plucked Angie off of me, striking a pose that could rival Cassandra’s. Angie cheered, grabbing me by the arm. She mumbled something about getting caught, and off we went to the dorms. I took Dani’s hand in mine with my free hand, forming a little almost duck-like train.

-

About 4 hours later, I'm laying in bed. Sleep doesn’t come easy after those 5 AM recitals. However, seeing Cassandra beaming on stage and.. oh, right. We kissed. Oh my god. We kissed. In front of HUNDREDS of people?! I groaned, my cheeks heating up when I remembered. Angie was drunkenly sleeping on the couch in a position her aunt would’ve definitely scolded her for. She was awfully strict on posture, after all. I’d run into her a few times before while unceremoniously getting locked in the auditorium. I still don’t know what possessed me to take Angie’s dare to stay in the auditorium to hunt for a phantom. ‘’Phantom my ass, if you believe in ghosts, you must be really stupid’’ I had declared. After wrecking another piece of decor in an attempt of getting away from the phantom I claimed wasn’t real, I got a brief introduction.

I yawned, grabbing my jacket. I was certain no shop would be open at this hour, but I felt compelled to take a walk to clear my head from all the fuss and chaos the show had caused. After pulling on my shoes, I snuck past the snoring Angie coddling a vodka bottle in her sleep, murmuring “I won’t let you get wasted” and “I’ll take care of you” and snuck out. I strolled towards the campus, staring up at the room where the student council resided during the day. How peculiar, someone had left the lights on. However, that isn’t my problem and I definitely won’t be making it my problem, I thought as I roamed around the center of the campus. I took a sharp left past the now calm auditorium towards the-

A faint rustling can be heard.

What the fuck?

I whipped my head around at near lightning speed. Another phantom?! It seemed to be following me. I struggled to grab my phone from my pocket, dropping it in the process of getting the flashlight on. I cursed to myself, bending down to grab my device as fast as humanly possible. Whatever was after me must have heard me, for footsteps rapidly came closer. This was it. I was gonna die. But there was so much I hadn't done, so many things I hadn’t said. Before I even registered the voice calling my name, I had chucked my phone in their direction. It flew through the air gracefully before colliding with my pursuer, who let out a sharp hiss. A… hiss? I looked up, barely making out their figure. The adrenaline started to wear off once I heard her voice. ‘’Fuck, ow! That might bruise!’’ She whined, almost stomping her feet like a little baby. I strutted towards the ‘’stranger danger’’. ‘’Cassandra?’’ I could finally make out her face, albeit her voice having been a better clue after having heard it day and night throughout the last couple of months. ‘’Call me Cass.’’ Even injured, she was smug as ever. ‘’I’m so sorry, Cass!’’ I gasped, seeing her covering her eye and huffing. However, I quickly changed my tone. ‘’But what the fuck were you doing, sneaking around in the dark?!’’ I knew the answer to that all too well, but I still couldn’t help but be worried I had seriously hurt her. She bent down, taking my phone and returning it to me before she spoke. ‘’The nightmares. I can’t… I don’t want to go to sleep, but I’m so tired. I thought a walk might help me.’’ She whined, almost like an upset puppy. ‘’I don’t want a full 8 hours of torture right after such a good performance.’’ she huffed. I felt bad for her, I really did. So, I asked the following; ‘’How about I come with you? I’ll be able to wake you if you start having nightmares.’’ She looked positively puzzled. ‘’Bold offer, because you do sleep like a normal human being. Who says you can stay awake longer than I can?’’ She grinned at me, teasing me, challenging me. I responded stoically. ‘’Your screaming will do the trick. Now come on.’’ I extended my hand to her. Oh god, what was I thinking?! Surely she wouldn’t-

But she did.

And now here I am. In Cassandra’s shirt, in her bedroom.

Believe me, I really tried this time to get my own clothes. However, my courage quickly parted from me once Angie stirred and murmured awful song lyrics in her sleep. Fearing I might wake her, I asked Cassandra for a shirt. She handed me one, making promises about not peeping. Looking in the mirror, however, I can confidently say she most definitely did not intend on keeping her promise, staring at my reflection through the window.

I laid down on the bed, waiting for her to come lay next to me. She did, eventually, but something about her demeanor changed. She wasn’t chatty or flirty anymore, her face only resembling flusteredness and.. fear. I can’t say I was any better, anxiously twiddling with my hair. Sharing a bed with THE Cassandra Dimitrescu was a big deal, after all. ‘’..Hey.’’ I whispered, looking at her. She could barely meet my gaze. ‘’It must be hard, letting people in.’’ I muttered, taking one of her hands in my own. She looked down at our hands, and then intertwined our fingers. I’ll forever be grateful for the lights being off, because I was redder than her mother’s lipstick. She murmured something under her breath, before speaking more clearly. ‘’It is. It’s just a struggle, you know?’’ She looked at me expectantly, her gaze piercing through my very soul. I nodded in response, yawning. She understood I was tired. I could swear she scooted closer, but at this point I was too dazed to care. ‘’Goodnight, Cass.’’ I spoke in muted tones. Before I drifted off, I heard her purr. ‘’Goodnight, my star.’’

Around 8 AM, it happened. I awoke to Cassandra stirring, she was definitely a lot closer to me than she was before we went to sleep. I contemplated waking her, but she really needed sleep. Instead, I went with an irrational solution. I gently started rubbing circles on her back in an attempt to soothe her, whispering sweet nothings to her. Seeing as she wrapped an arm around me and slowly came to a halt in her wrestling with the bedsheets, I deemed my mission successful. One of her arms snuck under my waist, pulling me even closer. She was tucked into the crook of my neck, her soft breath on my pulse point. After letting out a small yelp at the sudden contact, I eased into her. Her arms were brass, not as defined as Daniela’s but definitely rugged from all her work in the mechanic’s shop. There was no going back now, her grip was far too strong and comfortable, oh so very comfortable for me to attempt to wrestle out of. I didn’t want to either, continuing to gently draw shapes on her back. As I, once again, drifted off to sleep I heard it. I swear I heard it, albeit not even I could believe my own ears.

She whispered, ever so softly;

‘’You’re so adorable, my star.’’

The little kiss on my neck confirmed I wasn’t dreaming, for when I looked in the mirror the next morning, there it was.

Her lipstick.

So every time I convinced myself I was crazy..

I most definitely wasn’t. This was real.

[please-be-mine-forever]

Atrocious (Maniac Monkie King & Macaque)

Based, and Inspired by @dez-ku :'>

They're my favorite artist! When I saw, the fanart, I just had to whip up a quick fanfic.

Link to the Art!

================

" Monkie King? "

" Hey kiddo! You mind if I borrow, him for a bit?"

°

°

°

The way the dark-furred demon, cried made his heart tighten, clenching his chest badly.

More and more tears began to pool up, before big droplets of water, came rushing down Macaque's chin due to being overwhelmed.

His expression was hideous, absolutely disgusting. But those tears looked crystal clear, They reflected just the right amount of natural lighting in his surroundings, and they resembled glossy pearls.

It was a surprise that those pearly droplets came from someone so monstrous.

That made the orange-furred monkey, constantly demand his most loyal monkeys, to make the loudest noise, at places where he knew, Macaque would be resting. The immortal sage, made it clear to himself, that he'd do anything, to make his 'companion' feel explicit pain.

It was wrong to but as a demon. It was easy to give in, to temptation.

Could you blame him though? His high-pitched screeching, and the constant begging for the pain to stop, was something that Monkie King, secretly and desperately craved.

Even if that caused his six multicolored ears, to bleed daily.

When it did occur. A crimson liquid, coated the grass.

As if on cue, The Sage, would come to his rescue, acting like a hero, a protective savour to sooth his victim— friend, and immediately reassure him, that the monkeys are having mindless fun. It's not something done in a sinister light nor intention.

There laying on his lap, was pathetic excuse of a demon, slowly crippling away in self pity. Wukong's eyes, scanned every expression, every twitch, every grimace.

Tears, pricked at the corner of Lihou's eye.

It was awfully, distasteful for a Infamous Sage, to have to run his fingers across the messy locks of the black-furred monkey, but sacrifices, had to be made.

So he listened in to every word that spilled out from Macaque's quivering lips.

In this way, It was easy to know Macaque's weakness.

What sound, made the demon tick.

That made him beg, and fall down to the ground, begging for the noise to stop, while they shamefully, plead to be put out of their misery.

Despite his symphatic gaze, Wukong intrenally laughed, laughing at how pitiful his friend looked. He didn't care, whether or not, it was morally wrong or not.

All he cared about, was seeing him sob and writh in pain

He clenched on Macaque's chin, caressing his friend's hair and fur, before turning his head, and pretending to make the monkies to shush.

The immortal sage, desired, for his mental breakdown to never stop, the way he greedily gasped for air, made Wukong feel strange, in a good way. But alas, He had to look like his friends knight in shining armor, He wanted to be the only person Macaque could turn too.

In order to do that, He had to make Macaque go distant, with the others animals, It was easy especially with his ears.

Did he care for the monkey?

No , he didnt, Not a single ouce of his soul cared for him.

He, just didn't want anyone making him smile, He was the only one allowed to make him smile, and the only one allowed to wipe it off his face.

He wanted to see Macaque hurt, both physically and mentally.

Make him so broken, that nobody would want him, nor would he want anyone else.

Then come swooping his victim up his arm, saying "I'm the only one, that cares for you"

Even though the scrolls, written had stated that Li Hou, was a Trickster God, the most mischievous fellow. It was Wukong, that was cruel out the both of them.

In the stories, Macaque was said to have attack the precious Tripitaka and, Wukong, the brave hero was the one who killed the beast.

Not everyone knew, only himself know that Macaque was only trying to warn, the monk from Wukong, trying to save him, after figuring out the Sage's true intention.

He refused, for Wukong to have another victim to manipulate and hurt him.

But if an unknown demon comes running to you at full force, with six ears, disheveled fear and blood thirsty eyes, than anyone can mistake it, as an attack.

Wukong, swiftly pinned him down, and his fingers twitched, at the sound of the measly cries of the demon. It has been centuries, since he last heard that cry

The whole trip to the west and, being trapped under the mountain didn't exactly give him time to enjoy his odd hobbies.

The finger joints, of Macaque's, had a purple undertone now, and was severly bruised, indicating he was in excruciating pain from overuse, of his limbs as a result from fighting so frequently to defend his own life—yet no matter how much physical pain was inflicted, towards the demon monkey.

The Monkie king believed, that was never enough, after so long too, He craved for that heartwrenching feeling of hearing the sobs of his friend.

To him a friend, was someone that gave him immense happiness.

He, licked his eye, the one he plucked right out of the demon's face. It was slimey, had a weird texture but Wukong didn't care, He was giddy knowing it was Macaque's eye, and for him.

He defined that as happiness.

It was his last fight, the terrified face of his past friend, was just staring at him, no pulse can be seen.

Wukong, frowned for a moment, He wished the fight would have go on any longer.

There was no pulse, He sighed before swiftly kicking the body off the cliff. He, didn't really care about dead bodies, he preferred them alive,

He, would miss the way Macaque would cry, but right now, A dead body was such a liability, and a pathetic thing like him, didn't deserve a priper burial.

He knew, he'd just reincarnate. or be brought back to life or something.

Besides, Wukong had all eternity to wait for his pal, to raise back up from the grave or come back.

If he got impatient, than a trip to the underworld could be a must.

°

°

°

"Who hurt you?" The brunette questioned, his voice was soft spoken and tinted with concern. Macaque, couldn't answer that question, not now.

"Please.." The child, persisted and even pleaded, while he wrapped the bandages, around the demon's waist. Basing heavily on the wounds, He took quite the beating.

Macaque was getting mended by MK. Working quietly tailed behind them and thought how much waste of materials, That could be.

That six-eared bastard's only purpose was to be his plaything.

Wukong knew that bastard would just come back, over and over again, so there was no point in wasting such good materials.

Besides, There was that never-ending cycle that would come back, with torturing, making him cry, and seeing his last breath before dying. Then getting reincarnated.

Buddha knew not to interfere with his affairs, after all.

"Heya Bud! Mind if I borrow, Macaque over here?" The orange-furred monkey snickered, and interrupted him mid-sentence, with his hands behind his back.

He smiled at Macaque, and Macaque knew what that smile meant.

[zombi3zammy]

Little doll.

((This is my very first fanfic so uh, yeah it’s bad. Anyway, GN reader! <3))

(CW - Jason being a toxic A-hole, main character death, horribly written and rushed story lol)

It started in elementary school. You where the shy and socially awkward child… the one all the children bullied and teased due to having dirty uniforms and messy, tangled hair… and you always seemed to have dirt on your face and knees.

you where best friends with Amelia, a sweet girl with black hair and Amber eyes, the only one who was nice to you. well, you to where close. Before Amelia have gotten a new friend.

his name was Jason… a little boy with maroon hair and yellow eyes, and he seemed to be on the colder side. He wasn’t necessarily shy, just…

off.

he always crafted and whittled small wooden dolls during playtime, and during lunch he constantly sat by himself, refusing to talk to anyone. But that was before he met Amelia.

it was in matter of time where Jason never left her side, and you could’ve sworn he glared at you when Amelia was busy with small tasks, his Honey yellow eyes burning holes into your skull, a scowl constantly on his face.. but every time Amelia where to look at you two, he would snap back into his cheery, loving tone. You tried to tell Amelia, but she never believed you.

“..maybe he was looking behind you!”

or

“..that doesn’t seem like Jason… he’s very sweet, he would never hurt you.”

You slowly begin to give up on letting her know… Jason had Amelia wrapped around his finger, she believed every little lie he said. And you where sick of it.

he was clingy and borderline obsessed with her, it was weird and kind of creepy. He followed her around in public but she never noticed, even as you two where in highschool.

Oh, Highschool got bad.

he memorized her entire route and schedule, and he would start to interrogate her if she was one minute late. He started to become more violent too. He would wrap his hands around peoples throats, glaring down at them if they even breathed near Amelia, but she still failed to notice.

It was a matter of time when he finally threatened you too.

you where pinned to the wall under the stairs, as he wrapped his strong hand around your throat and he held a box cutter in the other.

“I don’t want you around Amelia.”

He spoke lowly, brows furrowed and his grip around your neck tightened, digging his nails into the soft flesh.

“Tsk, like I would do that.” when you said that, he plunged the box cutter into your thigh, using his hand to cover your mouth, muffling any sound you where to make.

his eye flashed a bright green, and you could’ve sworn the tips of his maroon hair faded into a soft white.

“I won’t say it again.”

You felt the hot blood soak your pants, tears forming in your eyes.

“..f-fine.” you manage to wince out, before he ripped the blade out of your thigh and he handed you a small bandage.

like that’s gonna do something..

but you where smart enough to listen to Jason, and you avoided Amelia all day.

“(____)!” You heard a female voice spoke, before turning around to see Amelia, a look of confusion on her face.

“(____)! what’s wrong? Why are you ignoring me?”

she spoke sadly, and she put a hand on your shoulder, but when you looked around, you saw Jason peering over the corner, glaring at you.

shit.

“I uh.. I don’t want to be friends anymore!” You yelled, and you pushed her hand off of your shoulder.

In response to this.. Amelia’s eyes softened and small tears ran down her cheeks. “…what..?” She whispered, blinking slowly, and you noticed her lips quivering.

“I said I don’t want to be friends anymore! Now — now leave me alone!” You shouted, before turning on your heel and running in the opposite direction, and you wiped your own tears away…

God, this is so stupid. Jason was so clearly manipulating her, how is she not noticing that?! At this point, he’s using Amelia like a fucking puppet, and he’s the one pulling the strings. He’s corrupting her thoughts… controlling her every word and move! And it’s so frustrating to watch.

he wasn’t going to let you even look at Amelia at this point… what is happening.. why is this happening to you? To Amelia?

later on the bus ride home, you felt a hand on your shoulder and you looked up to see the black haired female, her Amber-brown eyes looking down at you as you sat.

she didn’t say anything at first, but she sat next to you, and her serious gaze softened into a sad one. “(____), what’s wrong..? Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong..?” she whispered, nervous at making you snap again.

“Amelia.. it’s not you it’s Ja—”

you cut yourself off. Jason was in the next isle, but one seat up, and you can feel his glare from the corner of your eye.

“it’s what? (____)?? Are you okay??”

Amelia pestered, both of her hands on your shoulders.

“it’s Jason. He’s—” “Oh! Amelia!” Jason cut you off, and he placed his hand on her arm. “Come sit with me, please. I have something I want to show you.”

He smiled down at her, but you can feel the anger radiating off of his skin.

“…okay..” Amelia whispered, and gave you one last look before getting up and going to sit next to Jason.

There’s no point in trying to warn Amelia now… She was too far gone in whatever spell he has placed on her. Besides, Jason was always watching. Always by Amelia’s side, making sure you don’t make a peep about his dark actions…

it’s been years. You, now aged 24, haven’t spoken to Amelia since you two were 16. But you still pass by her, and of course, Jason was still protective of her as always. But… Amelia was different… she wasn’t as cheery anymore. And everyone in town avoided her… It has to be Jason.

no way it’s something else… Jason must be doing this to her. Being so selfish, he forces everyone away, not letting Amelia look at anyone.

but that was before you where walking through the town at night, and you felt yourself step on a wrinkled piece of paper.

It was a missing report… with a girl on it..?

it’s Amelia!! She’s gone missing? What happened?

Thoughts where running around in your head, but you stuffed the paper in your pocket, and you sprinted your way to a small shop.

Jason’s toy shop.

it has to be Jason… there’s no way that it wasn’t him! He’s been pushing everyone away from her… and now she’s missing? This isn’t a coincidence.

you pushed through the glass door and stormed up to Jason, slamming your hands on the front desk.

“where is she.”

you shouted, and thankfully no one else was in the shop..

Jason, however, was quiet. Not even flinch was ripped out of him, as he continued to stitch the clothing for the doll calmly.

“whatever do you mean, (____)?” He spoke, voice much deeper and.. attractive than what you remembered. But this isn’t your reason to be here.

“Amelia!! She’s missing!! I know you did it!” You shouted at him, and you fisted his white button up by the collar, tugging him closer to you.

Jason’s eyes where cold, the honey yellow staring deep into your own eyes, and his expression hasn’t shifted in the slightest. It was cold… and Dead.

“ANSWER ME GOD DAMNIT.” You shouted even louder, and Jason didn’t even blink.

He was quiet as he shoved your arms off of him, and his hands gripped your wrist, squeezing tightly, and you heard your bones pop and crack.

“it’s been a while, (____). I’m glad to see you again. But this isn’t a way to treat a friend, now is it?” He spoke, and he gave a small smile, though you knew something was off. Or was it the way he was quite literally breaking your wrist?

His grip never loosened, in fact, he was adding more and more pressure, and you saw your hand fade to a purple.

“you’re not my friend.” You spat, before trying to pull away from the Maroon haired man.

He let go, and stared at you as you went to close his shop. “Don’t ignore me you freak!” You screeched, looking down at your now broken wrist.

“fine… what is it you would like me to do, (____)?” He spoke coldly. How would he be allowed to have anything… this toy shop… being allowed to make contact with children???

“tell me where Amelia is!” You shouted again, gritting your teeth as you stared up at the taller man.

He let out a chuckle, God that chuckle… it was so alluring yet so disgusting, it showed his true colors, and his eyes flicked to a bright green.

He crouched down to be your height, and you watched as his smile slowly, yet surely, contorted into a scowl, his hair faded to a white and you saw cracks on his face, as if he’s made of porcelain…

Before you could speak again, his now blackened arm and hand snatched you by the arm, his claws digging into your flesh and you could feel the sharp pain, along with your hot blood flowing out of you… he was dragging you to the back of the shop, and he threw you on the floor, to where you were assaulted by the stench of something rotting…

the disgusting smell of rotting flesh and old blood filled your nostrils, coughing violently at the change of the atmosphere… and that’s when you saw her…

a rocking chair in front of you… and in it was the dead body of Amelia. She wasnt rotten, but she was very obviously dead…

the smell of wax radiated from her, and red thread was keeping her limbs together, as if she was dismembered then sewn back in place…

Like a doll…

you gagged at the sight and went to back away, your back bumping against Jason’s legs.

“…she tried to abandon me. She tried to leave me for YOU.”

he growled, his clawed hand grabbing a fist full of your hair, staring down at you with those green eyes. “Amelia wasn’t the perfect one… she didn’t deserve my affections… but then you walked in.” He continued.

“oh, you… you hate me, don’t you? But that’s okay…”

You flinched as he gripped your cheeks.

“I’ll teach you some manners… turn you into a toy! Then… I’ll go find a new chosen one.. and you won’t be able to stop me this time, darling.” you shuddered as his claws traced along your jaw, down your neck, and he stopped on your chest, where your heart is.

…

you felt your vision went black, and your body goes limp and hits the floor, as Jason gripped your hot heart in his hand, staring down at you.

“Let’s begin, little doll…”

[camille-lachenille]

Day 30 of All of Arda is Autistic:

Prompt: acceptance

Rating: Gen

CW: internalised ableism, reported ableism, Denethor being a terrible father offscreen

The room’s door opened and closed with a soft clic. “Faramir? Fara?” Boromir’s voice was worried as he padded toward the bed. Faramir did not answer and simply tightened the blankets around him. The mattress dipped at the foot of the bed. “Tell me what happened, Fara, please,” his brother pleaded. The silence stretched between them but Faramir was glad for his brother’s presence.

Yet, after some time, Boromir stood up and left the room. Faramir blinked tears away and curled up a little more on himself. Even his big brother couldn’t stand him. Only his mother had ever truly understood him, but she wasn’t there anymore and Faramir was left alone like a broken toy.

The mattress dipped again and a soft weight landed over him, making Faramir startle a bit and opened his eyes. Boromir was sitting beside him, carefully arranging their mother’s blue cloak with silver stars on top of the blankets without touching him. Faramir melted under the familiar garment, trying in vain to catch what was left if his mother’s perfume on the fabric. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Boromir smiled and held his hand out in a silent question. Faramir nodded and pressed his head into his bother’s hand, revelling in the feeling of fingers combing through his messy hair.

“Do you want to tell me?” Boromir asked, now looking serious. Faramir bit his lip. It was nothing out of the usual, really. And his father had been right to scold him for that. And yet…

“Father said that I have to stop rambling about Númenor’s history like a freak each time someone mentions a tradition of Gondor or ask a simple date.” he explained, his voice barely audible. And it felt like a heavy weight lifted from his chest as he told Boromir everything. “I don’t understand. Father called me his clever boy, before… before mum died,” he concluded. “But now, I’m never good enough. It’s always too much or too little. I act too childish, don’t know how to behave in public and so on…”

There was a silence where Boromir never ceased running his hand in his brother hair, before he sighed deeply. “You are worthy, Fara. So, so worthy. Father… he shouldn’t say these things to you. You are not a freak, nor childish. You are Faramir, and you are clever, passionate about ancient lore, shy but kind and always polite, and the best brother I could wish for.” Boromir declared in a fierce tone. “Can I hug you?”

Faramir didn’t even bother to answer as he bolted up and flung himself in his brother’s arms, effectively knocking both of them flat on the bed. Boromir laughed and held him tight as he sat up again. The sound made something break in Faramir and he started crying on his brother’s shoulder. “Thank you, Boromir. Thank you so much,” he managed after a while. “Love you.”

“I love you too, little brother.”

Faramir is 12 or 13 years old, and Boromir 17-18 years old. I love the relationship between them so much!

And this challenge is done! It’s the first time I try a writing challenge with prompts and I am mightily proud I managed to complete it, especially since April was so hectic. But sitting down (almost) every day to write about characters I like so much was very pleasant and gave me the opportunity to explore some thematics/characters/relationships I wouldn’t have written about normally. And I think that the very, very short ficlet about Maeglin might be amongst my favourite fanfics I wrote. Thank you so much @all-of-arda-is-autistic for organising this event and proposing a prompt list!

[mebiselfandi]

Title: Nights Like This

Summary: Neymar gets injured and Leo’s there to comfort him

Pairings: Neymar x Messi, Neymessi

Tags: hurt/comfort, kinda angsty

Quick authors note: Sorry if there’s any typos. English isn’t my first language and I haven’t written anything in half a year. I hope y’all like it though. It’s also my first fanfic ever so please don’t hesitate to comment what you think. Slightly ambiguous relationship so this can also be read as platonic or romantic. Also shout out to @kevjrr for inspiring me to write something 🫶🏾

The night air felt cool on his skin as he sunk down to the edge of the pool. A low hiss escaped his lips as he lowered his aching ankle gently into the water. It buzzed with pain that he felt reverberate through his body, catching his breath in his lungs. Slowly he began to relax as the water lulled the ache to faint whispers of rough tackles and even rougher recoveries.

Neymar had always tried not to give in too much thought to his injuries. Yes they were difficult to overcome but they were also frequent. This lead to him repeatedly pushing the thoughts and fears of never playing again aside to the back of his mind. Preferring rather to focus on getting better and playing as soon as possible. But it was nights like this. When the sun had gone down and the only observer was the watchful eye of the moon. When there were no prying eyes poking and prodding at the mask he so carefully crafted and maintained to fool himself into sanity. Nights like this where he finds himself in a more foreign than usual country that the doubts start to creep in. They come like thieves in the night under the guise of fleeting thoughts he lamely promises he won’t dwell on.

But he does. That’s all he does. The nagging feeling of guilt and shame for allowing himself to be injured again gnaws at the edges of his mind fueled by the slight hum of his swollen ankle. He hunches over as he tries to focus on something else. Anything else. His eyes sting with the heat of frustration as he remembers the events of the previous nights game. One of the opposing players running full speed towards him in his peripheral before sliding into full contact with his legs.

For a second everything seemed to slow down. The roar of the 80,000 screaming voices shoved its way into his ears as he felt the ground being knocked out from under him. The studs of the players boots ground into the already tender flesh of his skin. He had no chance to catch himself as his body slammed into the wet pitch head first and began sliding away from the force of the tackle. The rain made the grass extra slippery and he let out an inaudible scream as he felt every blade of grass carry his body along the pitch.

A tear fell from Neymar’s eye and he watched with disdain as it landed on his thigh right below where he’d pulled up his shorts and slowly trailed down his grass burnt skin and into the pool. He faintly recalled the red card being flashed. Then another as Sergio pushed the perpetrator violently to the ground. It all felt hazier and cloudier the more he thought about it. The pain being so overwhelming he could barely breathe but one thing was clear as day; Leo. His Leo. Soft browns stared into teary pools of swirling greens and pleading browns. Begging to be okay before Neymar could even register what had happened.

“Ney, are you okay? Just focus on me, okay?” Leo’s voice was softer than usual in his ears. Pushing the shouts of the crowd out and instead filling his head with thoughts of him. Leo, Leo, Leo. It would have been relaxing if not for the evident worry and urgency Neymar had become too accustomed and familiar with over the years. He ran his fingers through Neymar’s wet hair as his other hand made work of intertwining their fingers in a tight comforting grip. But for the first time it wasn’t enough. Something was wrong, he could tell. And the look in Leo’s eyes confirmed his suspicions.

Neymar tried to get up. There was still 30 minutes left and they were still drawn 2-2. He had to get up. His mind still crackled with the adrenaline of the game and the heat of the collision with the ground but his body groaned and refused to cooperate with his movements. He couldn’t feel anything but his body felt so alive for all the wrong reasons. Sensing his restlessness and growing panic Leo shushed him and placed the hand that he been running through Neymar’s hair to his chest pushing him back down. It felt heavy on his skin the warmth being the only thing keeping his thundering heart from escaping his body and staying on the pitch where it belonged.

He vaguely remembered the medics arriving after Kylian had shouted for them before being lifted onto the stretcher and being carried off the pitch. His hand tingled as it slipped out of Leos. It itched with the memory of Leo’s warm fingers rubbing small, slightly rough patterns into it before he blacked out.

Neymar wished he’d stop replaying the incident as he closed his eyes feeling another tear fall right next to where the other one did. He turned his face to the moon as his lip began to quiver with emotion. He could feel himself being dragged under the fullness of his emotions. He was tired of fighting them and he let himself be consumed. Consumed by the expectations, the guilt, the fear and every other feeling he tried to bury. All the feelings he so neatly folded and placed in the recesses of his mind came surging forwards. They spilled out in waves that cascaded freely down his cheeks and quiet whimpers only the moon held privy to. The weight of all the injuries he tried to convince himself he could overcome single-handedly sat of his heart weighing it down in his chest. And in that moment as his arms blindly prodded and rubbed at his bare chest he thought of Leo. He hadn’t seen him since his hand had slipped out of his grasp and Neymar found himself yearning for that hand to warm him up as he clawed angrily at his reddening, aching chest.

“Ney?” He heard faintly from inside his house. His heart soared and plummeted at the same time. No he must have been losing his mind in his state of delirium. But there it was again. “Ney?” Still soft but slightly louder. Neymar was happy that Leo was here truly but he couldn’t let him see him like this. He opened his eyes and splashed some of the pool water on his face as he heard the soft steps of Leo’s shoes. He bit back any sobs that threatened to rise and waited with baited breath as Leo finally emerged from the back door.

“Hey,” Leo sighed softly, a slight smile on his lips.

And maybe it was the look in his soft eyes or maybe the way the moonlight bounced of the skin of his face and arms making him appear more beautiful than usual but suddenly Neymar couldn’t take it anymore. Once again soft browns looked back into stormy eyes of pleading greens and swirling browns before a single choked sob escaped Neymar’s mouth. He looked away from Leo and closed his eyes as his arms came to wrap around himself. His body trembled and shook as fast feet sped to his side. Kneeling next to him, Leo gathered Neymar up in his arms. The heat from his body and his strong arms warmed Neymar’s shivering body. He was tense, still huddled in on himself refusing to face Leo or open his eyes.

“Why are you here?” He manages to croak out of his hoarse throat.

Leo stayed silent.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Neymar whispers.

“Why not?” Leo questions back in a matching whisper. He tries rubbing his bare torso in an attempt to warm him up but Neymar still stayed tense and on edge.

“I can’t let you see me like this,” he mumbles back barely audible against the sound of the slow chirping crickets, “so unhappy. I don’t want you to think I can’t handle a simple injury.” He adds hesitantly under a low breath. But it isn’t simple. Not this time. They both know it.

Leo’s heart ached. Seeing his Ney who shone brighter than the sun now sound so vulnerable and small in the pale glow of the moonlight made his chest feel lead lined and heavy. He looked at the shaking man in his arms and ran a hand down the column of his spine feeling each protruding ridge before running his hand back up the bruised skin of his ribs and resting his hand on his shoulder.

“Ney look at me,” he pleaded gently, just like he had on the pitch. Neymar turned to face him but his eyes remained closed. Leo pressed a kiss into his hair before speaking into it. “You feel this?” He asked as he gently peeled one of Neymar’s protective arms from his lithe frame before bringing the hand up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss to the tips of his fingers then placing the hand on his chest. Right above his heart. It thrummed steady and strong under the gentle weight of Neymar’s touch. “It beats just like yours. With every victory, every loss. Every happy moment and every tear shed. You share your joy so freely yet you guard your tears but you shouldn’t have to. You’re human, I don’t expect you to be happy all the time.” He paused momentarily as he covered Neymar’s hand with his own. “What that player did to you was inexcusable and you shouldn’t feel like you have to hold back your sorrow from me. You’ve been so strong all these years and I wouldn’t think any less of you for being unhappy after everything. So please don’t be scared of me. It’s just me. Just Leo.”

Neymar blinked open bleary eyes that seemed more brown than green and looked up into Leo’s eyes that gazed back full of love and understanding. He couldn’t help it even if he wanted to as he melted into Leo’s arms burying his face into his neck. He focused on his low whispers of “I got you” and his gentle ministrations on his skin and just Leo. Heavy sobs and even heavier tears escaped his eyes and glided over his cold nipped cheeks as he wrapped the arm that wasn’t on Leo’s chest around Leo’s waist. He cried all his guilt and anger out as he let Leo press him closer into his body and allowed his hand to be trapped between their two hearts.

Leo pressed soft kisses on his neck and face and held him tighter as his sobs quieted and his tears subsided. Leo’s knees began to ache in this kneeling position but it didn’t matter as he heard his Ney relax into occasional slow, shuddering breaths. He began to pull away to get a better look at him but stopped as he felt the hand over his heart grip tightly into the fabric of his shirt.

“Please…don’t go,” Neymar muttered doubtfully as he waited in fear for Leo to stand up and brush him off but instead he pulled him closer to his chest and shifted Neymar on top of him as he lay down next to the pool.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered soothingly into Neymar’s ear as he wrapped his hoodie around Neymar’s exposed half.

And as they lay there under the silver glow of the moonlight, they were just Leo and Ney. His Leo and his Ney; two hearts beating in tandem.

[rainisawriter]

Cowardly San – San (PSF #1)

Ficography

Genre: Halloween, fluff, angst, non-idol au, cowardly lion au?

Prompt: “I’ve got you.” (@flufftober)

Word Count: 3,504

Pairing: Reader x San

World: Ateez

A/N: This was originally written as an original piece because I wanted to do half original and half fanfiction but I changed my mind as usual and went all fanfics lmao I didn’t have the time or energy to rewrite this so I just edited it and chose San so he might be out of character, don’t come for me Atiny! ò.ó)/

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

Halloween has always been your favorite time of year. You loved scaring people and watching horror movies because you never got scared. Most horror movies were mere comedies to you. In fact, you’ve been kicked out of the movie theater multiple times for laughing during horror flicks.

On the opposite side of the coin, your boyfriend hated Halloween. He was a sensitive man who got scared easily and simply couldn’t stomach horror. San was often bullied during his school years because of this which only made him hate the holiday even more.

It was so bad that, had you started dating him closer to Halloween, he probably would have broken up with you as soon as he learned about your love of all things spooky. As it turns out, though, you met each other at the beginning of the year and he had fallen deeply in love with you by the time he found out.

Last year was your first Halloween together, but he was terrified of you finding out about his secret. He didn’t want you to hate him or, worse, look down on him. He wouldn’t be able to stomach it if you said he wasn’t a man like so many others had before. To combat this, he told you that he had to leave town to be with his sick sister and her three kids.

San’s sister wasn’t sick, but she agreed to play along with his scheme just so he would stop begging. She made sure to scold him for his choice.

“Relationships built on lies won’t last,” she had told him. “And if she can’t accept you for who you are, she’s trash.”

He knew she was right but he had never fallen in love as hard as he had with you. He didn’t want to lose you. He didn’t want you to look down on him.

All year long, he steeled himself to tell you the truth before Halloween arrived. It wasn’t even December yet, he had plenty of time… right? It felt as if he blinked and it was already October again. Where had all the time gone? More importantly, where had his resolve gone?

San stared at the date on his phone, wishing it was incorrect but he knew it wasn’t. 

October 1st, it read.

He could hear you in the kitchen of the apartment you shared, humming the tune of some Halloween song. October was the only month that you woke up before him, simply unable to contain your excitement.

Could he really take that away from you just because he’s a scaredy cat? He feared he would ruin the holiday for you. A groan passed his lips as he covered his face. Why was this so hard? All he had to do was say he didn’t like Halloween. It should be simple!

It wasn’t, though, not for him. In that moment, it felt like the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. 

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he slid out of bed, running a hand through his messy brown hair. There was a loose floorboard at the end of the hall that creaked whenever someone stepped on it, thus alerting you to his presence. 

You smiled brightly at him. “Morning, baby. Spooky season is officially here!”

“Morning,” he mumbled back softly, settling down at the table. He loved the way your eyes sparkled during October, it was the only thing he enjoyed about the month. To him, you were already gorgeous, but you became an absolute goddess when your eyes sparkled. He felt like the luckiest man alive.

You set down a plate of freshly made pancakes on the table and he winced when he saw them. They had been made using Halloween cutters – skulls, hands, creepy looking Jack-o-Lanterns. There was even a cobweb pancake which nearly made him shiver. He hated spiders.

Normally, he would eat two or three pancakes, but there were only two Jack-o-Lantern pancakes and you took one. It was the only shape he could bring himself to eat.

You frowned at him when you noticed this. “Are you okay, babe?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. Why?” 

“You usually eat more than that.”

“Ah… I’m just not very hungry this morning. Maybe I’m getting a bug or something,” he mumbled, feeling guilty for lying to you again. His sister’s words echoed through his mind again.

You leaned across the table, resting the back of your hand against his forehead. “Hm, you don’t feel warm. We’ll have to keep an eye on it. Let me know if you feel worse, okay?”

San could only nod, eyes focused on the pancake. He suddenly didn’t feel very hungry at all.

“Spirit Halloween opens today. I’m so excited, they have the��best decorations.”

He tried not to, but his mind conjured images of the apartment decoded to the nines with all manner of spooky decorations and he couldn’t suppress his shiver. He glanced at you to see if you had noticed, but you were still talking about the store.

“I’ve been saving up all year, too, so I can go all out!”

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “Is that wise…? I mean, our apartment isn’t very big. If you put too much, we won’t even be able to move.”

“You’re right, but get this. You remember Hongjoong, right? We went to high school together.”

He vaguely remembered the name, but he couldn’t put a face to it.

“Well, he’s going out of town to spend Halloween with his family and he said I could use his house this Halloween. I’m going to throw the best Halloween party ever!”

He tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat as he thought about an over-decorated house filled with people in gruesome costumes. “Oh… how nice of him…”

“Right?” You grinned, unable to sit still. “Do you feel well enough to come with me to the store?”

San’s lips parted and he released a shaky breath as he tried to speak. ‘Just tell her, idiot,’ he told himself in frustration. ‘End this now. Tell her the truth.’

Your grin slowly faded when he didn’t answer, worry battling against your excitement. You rested your hand over his, catching his eye. “Hey, it’s okay. If you’re not feeling well, you can stay here and get some rest. I’m sure Wooyoung won’t mind helping.”

His heart dropped at this. Wooyoung had been crushing on you since the two of you were in middle school and, honestly, he isn’t too sure why you chose him over Wooyoung.

He had always been the cool guy with short hair the color of a raven and striking brown eyes. Like you, he loved to play video games rather than sports. He was also funny, smart and, most importantly, he loved Halloween almost as much as you did.

On the other hand, San was slender with average brown eyes, though he had chosen to dye his brown hair red on your insistence. Instead of virtual games, he played volleyball in high school and liked to run track in his free time. He knew first hand that you loathed exercise and sports, so why had you chosen him? To everyone but you, Wooyoung was the obvious choice.

Yet you had chosen San, your complete opposite, and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was a bet. 

The thought stung at his heart and he shot up from his seat. “I’m gonna go lay down.” He didn’t give you the chance to respond, rushing back down the hall into the bedroom.

You knew something was bothering him, he wasn’t very good at hiding his feelings after all, but you didn’t know what it was. You didn’t want to pressure him, either. You knew that he would come to you when he was ready and yet… you couldn’t help the knot that formed in your gut.

The man you loved was suffering and there was nothing you could do to help him. There’s no worse feeling than that.

You almost decided to stay home instead of going to the store, but you didn’t want to crowd him. He probably just needed space, so you wrote a note and left it on the table before heading out.

Wooyoung was already inside the store when you arrived. He had grabbed a Ghostface mask that was resting atop his head. He grinned when he saw you, pulling you into a tight hug before glancing around.

“Where’s the boyfie?”

Your nose wrinkled at the ridiculous term. “San isn’t feeling well today.”

“Oh, so I finally get you to myself then,” he smirked, his tone flirty.

As usual, you ignored it and just brushed past him, grabbing a cart. He had always been a flirty guy with every female he met and, over the years, you had learned to just ignore him. He would try a few more times before giving up, you knew.

He caught up with you easily, throwing his arm around your neck. “So, are we going for a ‘cute spooky’ theme? A ‘Michael Myers is outside spooky’ theme? Maybe a ‘Freddy’s gonna get you’ theme?” His eyes fell on something at the end of the aisle and he rushed forward to grab it. “Or perhaps~ a ‘killer Barbie’ theme?”

You quirked a brow at the Barbie-themed paper plates he was holding out. “I should kill you for even putting that pink trash in my line of sight.”

Wooyoung laughed loudly as he replaced the item. “No shame in trying, eh?”

“The theme is ‘when you leave this house even hell itself won’t scare you anymore.’”

His eyes glinted mischievously. “Ooo~ My sister is currently dating a therapist. I’ll let him know he’s gonna have a lot of new clients after our party.”

You just snickered at the thought.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

The farther it got into October, the worse San started to feel, to the point that he wondered if he actually was getting sick. People were already pulling pranks on unsuspecting people, usually in the form of scaring the hell out of them. The thought of him minding his own business while shopping for groceries only for someone in a mask to appear and scare him or threaten him… it had his stomach in knots.

He knew what his reaction would be because it had happened many times in the past. He would end up crying, covering his head, and crouching as low to the ground as he could. He hated that that was his reaction and he had tried many times not to react that way.

It wasn’t just the fear eating him up, though. You had been spending less and less time at home, trying to get all of the decorations up and running at your friend’s house. He missed you dearly and, despite himself, he felt jealousy swirling in his gut because he knew that you were with Wooyoung. Every morning, he came to the apartment to pick you up, wearing that stupid mask atop his head.

He would smile at San but never asked how he was feeling or how life was going. Though, San didn’t ask Wooyoung those questions, either.

A sigh passed his lips as he curled up on the sofa, a blanket covering his body, resting over his head like a hood. His eyes focused on the balcony door. The sky was dark, tiny stars shining brightly. You should have been home by now, so where were you? He glanced at his phone for the hundredth time, but no messages had come through. He considered messaging you first, but he didn’t want to bother you or seem clingy.

His eyes lingered on the date. October 25th.

Halloween was just six days away and he was no closer to telling you the truth. For the most part, he was still pretending not to feel well. He honestly felt pathetic. Was he even a man? Had he ever been one? No one else seemed to think so.

His phone dinged with a new message and he nearly dropped it in his haste to check it. It wasn’t from you, it was from his sister.

-> Did you tell her yet?

It was a simple question, but it made him feel all sorts of things, none of them positive. No, of course, he hadn’t. San was a coward in all meanings of the word. All he wanted to do was run away, to hide away from the terrifying world around him.

A frown tugged at his lips as he gazed at a picture of you and him, smiling happily at the camera. “I love you so much… I’m scared of losing you…” Tears stung his eyes but he quickly wiped them away when he heard keys jingling out in the hallway.

The lock on the door clicked and you stepped inside, looking tired but happy. As soon as he saw you, he felt better. For a moment, it felt as if all of his worries and fears disappeared, and he wished he could thank you for it. He couldn’t, of course, because that would mean explaining why he was so worried and filled with fear.

“I’m home,” you called out softly, offering him a tired smile when you saw him.

“Welcome home,” he replied softly, standing up to take your messenger bag and coat. “How was your day?”

“Well, Wooyoung fell down the stairs.”

His eyes widened in shock. “Eh? Is he okay? What happened?”

“He wasn’t paying attention, as usual, and tripped on a string of lights.” You shook your head, falling onto the couch with a sigh. “He broke his arm in two places and sprained his wrist.”

“Damn,” he muttered, sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. As much as he didn’t like Wooyoung, he never wanted him to get hurt. And if he’s hurt, then that means – “You’re decorating alone now?”

“Yeah. There’s still so many decorations to put up, I’m not sure I’ll get it done before Halloween.” You threw your head back with a groan. “Man, I was finally going to throw the most badass Halloween party ever! I spent so much on the decorations, too… guess I’ll have to return some of them.”

San chewed on his lower lip. “Maybe, I -” his voice died in his throat, heart racing in his chest.

“Hm?” you looked at him curiously, head tilted to the side.

He swallowed down his nerves, hands curling around the pajama pants he wore. “I can… help you with them…”

Your eyes lit up like Christmas tree lights. “Really? You don’t mind?”

He shook his head no, ignoring the voice screaming at him in the back of his mind.

You smiled, throwing your arms around his neck and yanking him onto the couch with you. “Thank you, baby!”

San smiled softly, wrapping his arms around you. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh, but,” you pushed him back enough so you could see his face, a frown on your own. “Are you sure you’re okay? I know you’re still not feeling well.”

Guilt pooled in his stomach but he did his best to ignore it, offering you a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’m feeling better…”

“I’m glad,” you told him softly before pressing your lips to his. “I’ve been worried about you.”

He cleared his throat, trying to change the subject. “Are you hungry? I made dinner.”

“Ooo, what did you make, babe?”

“Your favorite – spaghetti.”

You grinned at this information, throwing your arms around him again. “You’re the best! You’re sick and you’re still taking care of me.”

He hugged you back tightly, fingers curling around your shirt. “I’ll always take care of you…”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

San had to take several deep breaths when you pulled up in front of the house. The yard was finished already, covered with skeletons crawling out of the ground, gravestones, coffins, and several other items that he wished he hadn’t seen. He kept his eyes on his feet as he followed you inside.

If he could barely stand to look at the decorations, how in the world was he meant to help you put them up?

“Can you finish up in here?” You questioned, motioning toward a small pile of decorations in the corner. “I’ll get started on the kitchen.”

“Okay…”

You sent him a smile before disappearing through the archway.

San took a deep breath, slowly approaching the pile of decorations. The most prominent one was a grim reaper sitting upon a throne. Surely he could just toss them up somewhere and pretend they no longer existed. He doubted that you would go behind him and correct it. Even if you did, he wouldn’t mind.

He was just finishing up when he heard you call from the kitchen.

“Babe, can you bring me the bag that’s in the closet under the stairs?”

“Sure,” he called back before approaching the rounded door. His fingers wrapped around the doorknob, pulling it open. A witch jumped out at him, cackling loudly as her eyes lit up.

San screamed loudly, falling the floor.

You ran into the room with a wide grin on your face, satisfied that you had successfully scared your boyfriend. You thought he would be frustrated at you before laughing, but that wasn’t the case.

He was curled into himself, knees tucked against his chest as he hugged them tightly, soft sobs racking his body. Your grin instantly fell, realizing that something was wrong, and you rushed over to his side.

“Hey,” you rested your hand on his back, brow furrowed. “Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Look at me.”

He refused to lift his head from his knees, body trembling under your touch. He never wanted you to see him like this. He felt like a child, not a man.

You slid your arms around him, pulling him into your chest. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

His fingers clutched at your shirt, face buried in your neck. You could feel his tears on your skin, making you tighten your grip on him. Your fingers combed gently through his hair as you shushed him softly.

“I’ve got you,” you repeated, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m right here.””

“I’m s-sorry,” he sobbed.

“Sorry for what? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

He just shook his head, clinging to you tighter. You’re not sure how long the two of you stayed that way before his sobs finally stopped. You thought he had fallen asleep at first.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, voice hoarse.

“What for?” You whispered back, afraid to raise your voice. “Please tell me what’s wrong, baby. You’ve been acting so weird lately, I’m worried.”

He knew he couldn’t avoid it any longer. It was time to face it. San slowly pushed himself away from you, his head lowered and gaze on the ground. His eyes were puffy and red. “I… I’m scared…”

“Of what?”

He wasn’t sure how to explain it so he motioned toward all the decorations. “All of this! I… I don’t like scary things. I – I can’t handle them! I can’t control it, I just… when I get scared, I just… break down. I’m not a man, I’m a damn child! I’m so sorry, I…” Tears stung at his eyes again and he cursed, hands clenching against his thighs.

You reached forward, resting your hand against his warm cheek. Your thumb swiped away the tear that fell from his eye. You felt like a terrible girlfriend. He’s been suffering all this time and you didn’t even realize how bad it was. There you were, going on and on about Halloween and horror movies, completely unaware of how much you were hurting him.

Your lips parted, but you didn’t know what to say. Tears were stinging at your eyes now. “I’m so sorry, Sannie.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “What -”

“This whole time, you were suffering but you bit your tongue to make me happy. All those times I would talk about Halloween or something horror and your mood would change… how could I not notice? God, I’m such a shitty girlfriend.”

“No, you’re not!” He shook his head frantically, moving closer to you. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I… I was afraid to tell you. I was afraid of losing you so I went out of my way to hide it. I lied to you so many times… I understand if you don’t want to be with a coward like me.”

“Idiot,” you scowled, wiping angrily at your tears. “Do you think so little of me? Do you really think I would suddenly fall out of love with you just because you can’t handle scary things? San, you’re the love of my life. If I believed in soulmates… babe, you’d be it.”

His heart felt like it was going to explode from the overwhelming warmth and love he felt. “I love you, too,” he whispered, his lips finding yours.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

[eusuntgratie]

Writer asks 4, 6, 7, 13, 14, 29, 34 🤩

4 & 6 answered here

7. What's the story or fic that you're most excited to work on or share next year?

hands down a million percent its my messy rwrb rpf fic. i'm gonna give this one a working title since i've started posting about it - we'll call it disaster for now. this tasty little idea grew legs and carried me away, and now i've got 20 fucking chapters plotted. WHO AM I. i've only got about 3k written, but i've done a lot of prep work, so i'm hoping to start posting this one in january or february but it really depends how much time i have to write. i won't finish it before i start posting but i want to have a LOT of it done, and i'm a long ways off from that. if anybody is into this pairing or actor rpf in general feel free to come scream at me about it this fic consumes at least 50% of my waking thoughts.

13. What story haunts you when you try to sleep at night?

i'm not sure how to interpret this question. the fic i can't stop thinking about, brainstorming, visualizing scenes is disaster. every commute, when i'm trying to go to sleep, etc etc... i'm thinking about this fic and coming up with a new little thing i want to throw in there.

the fic that haunts me because i never wrote it is the buddie fic i was planning to write for the buddie big bang in 2022, shadow, but we ended up moving halfway across the country instead, and i never came back to it. it's plotted, i love the central idea, but i'm not sure i have the motivation to write something that long for buddie, at least not right now. but never say never. there's some snippets and teasers and even some incredible art in my #shadow tag.

14. How many wips are you taking into next year?

2 that i am currently actively working on (disaster and firstprince exes). i've got 2 tknp fics that i've worked on recently that i think/hope i'll finish. we'll leave it at that for now 😬

29. What was the funniest comment or piece of feedback that you received?

hmm i did love this one: OH YOU'RE SICK from @bigassbowlingballhead and you yelling at me for NOT running into a hot hockey player in an airport and hooking up in an airport bathroom despite the promises made by be cool. all the feral screeching about didn't think i liked cowboys was pretty fun too 🤣

i DO have an all time favorite comment although i think its from last year but i can't find it right now. it's someone trying to scream JESUS CHRIST at me but just its a mess of keysmashes and half words it's so great 🥰

34. What's the weirdest thing you researched for a fic?

probably all the obscure saints i researched for forgive me, father. all the oc's have saint's names bc i went HARD on the catholic trauma in this one :)

Fanfic Writer End of the Year Ask Game

[feyhunter78]

20 Fanfic Questions

Thank you for the tag @cchickki this was so fun!!!!

1.) How many works do you have in AO3?

I have 22!

2.) What's your total AO3 words count?

My total is 509,650 words

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

You can find the link here!!!

4.) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In order, it is 1.) Pink Pastels 2.) The Dowager Queen 3.) Orange Blossoms 4.) Among the Sun 5.) Trials of Tributes

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

Yes!!! I love getting comments, they literally make my day, encourage me, and one or two have almost made me cry from how sweet they were🥺

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

It would be my only angst fic, But Darling (I’d Still Die For You)

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

Oooooo so this is a tie between Moonflowers and the ending I’m thinking about for Pink Pastels

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

I have before, usually it’s super dumb, and I screenshot it and send it to @celestialsolstice, so we can tear it apart together

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

Y’all know I dooooo, but I write sweet smut! Nothing too harsh, no degradation or violence, just two people who care about each other

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

I do not and have not

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, but I live in constant fear that someone has put Pink Pastels in an AI somewhere

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

In the very beginning when my only fic was Poisoned Tears and Scorched Tongues someone asked if they could, but I was super new to AO3 and thought it was a scam, so I never responded💀

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Lollll nothing that’s been published, but back in the day me and @celestialsolstice started writing a “sister of Markiplier” fic. It was not that good for what I remember, we’re both much better writers now😂

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

Honestly it used to be Nalu, but now it’s Dani x Pelle from Midsommer every fic I’ve read about them is a fucking masterpiece😭

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

Definitely Hold My Heart (Between Your Teeth), and Turn of the Tide, Call of the Sea. They both had such a good premises, but I just lost their plots entirely and cannot muster up the energy to finish them

16.) What are your writing strengths?

I think it’s my prose, and my ability to switch between writing styles, aka modern for Pink Pastels and “old English” for HOTD and Among the Sun. People compliment me on the flow and word usage in my writing, which always make so, so happy!!!!

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I don’t plan and if I do, it’s so messy, I just sit and write. Also, thigh riding, dirty talk from reader’s perspective (IMO) and descriptions of objects and/or places. I’m not good at describing settings, y’all😭

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

For Spanish, I use Spanish Dictionary, my shitty public school Spanish education and my readers. I double-check the translation by running it through twice and sometimes breaking the sentence down to make sure I’m using the right word😂

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

First one I put something out publicly for was HOTD, first fic I ever wrote was for DC Legends of Tomorrow

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Honestly as chaotic as it was Targaryen Inc was so much fun to write, it was off the rails batshit crazy, but I loved it

I’ll no pressure tag @celestialsolstice, @dilf-superiority and @dapper-zappa

[purpleplaid17]

Jess Watches // Thu 30 May // Day 246 Synopses & Favourite Scenes & Poll

Hacks 3x09 Bulletproof (s3 Finale)

As Deborah works to perfect her second run at Late Night, Ava receives a dream offer, and Jimmy and Kayla seek to grow their company.

I never thought they would have me in a chokehold again after the messiness of s2. I am thrilled that they proved me wrong. s3 was so tightly written and the Ava/Deborah dynamic in the finale was fanfic come to life. I need to find time to rewatch it because I still can't believe we were fed this well. 🦈

We Are Lady Parts 2x01 Villain Era

Lady Parts return with a renewed artistic mission following a magical summer tour and set out to lay down their legacy, to record their debut album; only to find that a rival band threatens their status quo.

Amina in her baddest-bitch Villain Era maintaining healthier boundaries and practicing self-care by saying yes to new life experiences. I love that for her. She looked cute in her cowboy hat and I am delighted that we get to hear Amina/Anjana sing more this season. She has a lovely voice. Kind regards, best wishes, eat shit!Yours truly, sincerely, this bitch!

We Are Lady Parts 2x02 Malala Made Me Do It

A shock eviction from the bedsit leaves Lady Parts without a rehearsal space and rethinking their artistic priorities; but a chance lifeline leads them to a creative retreat and the creation of an unexpected hype track.

Saira having an existential crisis about turning 30. Feeling old and having not attained the personal goals she set for herself. I feel you. Happy 30th Birthday You Old Fucking Hag! And Bisma 'pausng' her daughter because she'd had enough and needed to get out. I feel you. Tbf, Malala made her do it!

[gayliketheancients]

I'm SORRY (Every Single Song Is About You)

In another addition of 'Gay Writes': I am almost done with a project that will be coming up here TONIGHT. BKDK fans, I come bearing the Karaoke AU of ultimate pain.

This was the work that got me back into writing fanfic. I'm not going to lie, you guys love a good, angtsy, mess, painful, exes-to-lovers BKDK, and as it is a trope I love dearly, I'm here to present a sneak peak.

This is gonna be a Big Boy down below

EVERY SINGLE SONG IS ABOUT YOU

Ships: BKDK, KiriMina, a surprise polycule

Warnings: SO MANY. THIS. IS. MESSY. PEAK BKDK MESSY. infidelity (not between any of the main ships but it's literally the opening chapters, my dude. HEAVY on a dont like dont read policy), true and real behaviors of people with trauma, morally questionable moments, BDSM sex and etiquiette (both bad dynamics and teaching to learn good), violence, death, etc.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: exes-to-lovers, karaoke bar AU, songfic - kinda, canon divergent, Heroes all make it to be pro-heroes au, I am currently waiting for the manga to finish to binge but I was reading religiously at the time of this story being written - so it is adjacent in some ways, homophobic views (societal, internalized, externalized), angst with a happy ending

THE SNEAK PEAK:

After a near death experience leaves him with both memory loss and his ex-boyfriend at his bedside across the world from their hometown, Izuku decides he's done waiting for thing to fix itself. He moves back home from the States and in a true return to form, starts chasing after the one thing he wants but can't seem to get - Kacchan.

A painful story about how love is often as imperfect as we are, and the ways living makes it worth it.

A QUOTE FROM THE PROLOGUE:

Love is like a flame. It does not discriminate, it doesn’t give a shit about your situation or who you want to become. The smallest spark on kindling can cause a chain reaction that will shape the rest of your life. You may have plans, but love is there to take you off of your carefully crafted path and lead you into an offshoot of the future to create a new one. Love doesn’t care what your plans are or who you feel required to become. All love cares about is getting fed, and no matter if it’s oxygen or wood, the fire demands to continue burning.

The thing about love that makes it like a flame is that it hurts. It’s bright and vibrant and beautiful, but it’s also the most destructive force on the planet. Wars have been raged over love, countries toppled, governments and knowledge lost to the power of love having a ripple effect through history. And it will never end. There will be heartbreaks where you feel like you’ve lost so much more than just a partner, like you’ve lost part of yourself as well. This is the way it is, the way it will always be. When you love, you run the risk of being burned. There is always the chance that you will get hurt. 

But, believe that it’s worth it. Loving people is always worth it. It is true that your heartbreak will hurt for as long as you still love them. It is true that some loves are there to push you to where you need to go. Love is not always soft and gentle. Sometimes it’s feral and possessive and it means to destroy everything you’ve ever known about yourself and your life. You have the option to let it run wild and destroy the forest of your existence and allow things to grow back new and different, or you can do small, controlled instances with love where you end things before they can become too intense. 

Not all love is meant to bring tectonic level change to your life, but all of the right kinds of love will. No matter how hard we try, love is the reason for our existence. You’re never supposed to have a perfect experience with love. The fantasy of soulmates who are perfectly in sync from the moment they meet until one of them dies is very seldom a true representation of life changing love. It will be messy. There will be fights, challenges, struggles along the way. You will not always be ready, willing or able to deal with the problems that arise. The meaning of being together may get lost somewhere along the way. 

Love is more than just a feeling or a commitment, it is also a sacrifice. The best way to describe love is knowing that allowing it in your life is akin to taking a leap of faith. You may feel like a fool, but the small act of allowing the love in will put you on a journey that you never saw coming. Life and love are the longest lasting of soulmates. Life brings you in and gives you values, meanings, a purpose. Love takes what you know and puts it on its head in order to show you the truth of it, and the truth will set you free. Love brings you meaning, hope, and the ability to distinguish what makes life worth living. 

Love is more than a partner, just like life is more than a series of breaths. They create balance together, and are dangerous apart. To live without love is surviving in the bleakest manner possible, and to love without life is grief in its purest form. There is no one without the other. 

I want to take this moment to encourage you to live and to love deeply. Not all love is romantic, and not all life is dripping with excitement. Love your friends, your family, strangers you pass on the street. Love yourself, because you fucking deserve it. The act of loving is what makes the human experience of life bearable and worth the pain. Do not mistake this as advice saying you need a partner to truly live life to the fullest. Instead, try and reflect on the ones you love as pillars for the best life possible. The more pillars you have, the more sturdy you will become as you continue to live. 

Love is worth it, and so are you.

[loopy777]

Hey! I just love your Mai’s POV fics! Really love it! To me, you are the authority when the issue is writing her in character. You nailed it!

I’m thinking about trying to write a Maiko fanfic. I never wrote anything before.

Please, give me some tips. Especially about how to write Mai right! What do you try to keep in mind when using her POV?

Aw, thank you!

In terms of general writing, I'm a big fan of outlines. Even for short stories, I start with a concept, break down the necessary points/scenes, and write a short summary of each. Having a roadmap makes it so much easier, since you know exactly what it is you need to do; figuring out where you're going while also writing is too hard. In terms of constructing stories, remember that they're basically collections of problems and solutions. Yes, you can write something that doesn't have any conflict, but I find for that type of story that it's hard to figure out the beginning and ending. When you do use conflict, the beginning is when the conflict appears, and the ending is when the conflict disappears, and then the points in between are the dance steps that get you from beginning to ending. CHARACTER A goes here, sees this, talks to that person, realizes something, and then solves the problem.

For the actual writing, always remember to never worry about what you're writing until the second draft or editing phase; once you have a sentence done, move to the next. The important thing is to get it done, because that's your base level of quality- everything you do to what you've already written (including completely rewriting it) will only improve things. Don't second-guess yourself while writing, because that's what we call "editing" and it comes later.

However, at the same time, be open to your own reaction to what you're writing. If it feels boring to write, then consider if it can be spiced up in some way, some humor added or a plot twist moved up from later in the story or just have the characters exchange some fun but pointless banter. If you're having fun while writing, you'll want to do more of it. And then when you're addicted, you can work on stuff that's no fun to write at all, like massive fantasy epics longer than 'Lord of the Rings.' ;)

The hardest part is getting that first draft done, and then you're free and clear.

For Mai herself, I'm sure any fan has a sense of this, but the way I put her basic psychology into words is that she doesn't think she cares as much as she does. She has a real sense of right and wrong, and she admires heroes and people who help others, but she got so hurt by Zuko's banishment that she has psyched herself into thinking she's completely apathetic. I find the best storytelling conflict for her comes in pushing on that, on putting her in situations where she needs to examine herself and realize she really does care. That's essentially what the big moment at the Boiling Rock was about, after all.

But up to that moment, her attitude is cold and sardonic and a little mean. She values uniqueness, even if the rest of the Fire Nation doesn't, because Azula likes it as well (after all, she picked Mai and Ty Lee for her companions) and so it's one of the few pleasures she's can indulge. She's a bit of an adrenaline junkie, but also fussy. It can also be fun to put those in conflict, where her sense of adventure is pushing her into a situation where she has to get messy.

The trap with Mai is how passively she lives most of her life. She goes along with what her parents do, she goes along with what Azula orders her to, she goes along with what Fire Nation society says she should. She complains about it, as wittily as she can, but she does it and does it well- sometimes so well it's an act of sarcasm itself. So writing about her runs the risk of making her an observer, which rarely makes for an interesting story. A POV character needs to be the one who drives the action in a scene/story, otherwise they're not really the main character. So coming up with stories to tell for Mai often starts with finding a way to push her into action, most likely coming from her parents or Azula or Ty Lee or society or whatever, and then in the course of that she runs into something which challenges her facade and makes her deal with it in some way. A story can also be about her seeking some excitement herself and running into more than she bargained for, no parents or Azula or etc required.

I also really love bouncing Mai off more expressive and honest characters. Someone like Ty Lee or Sokka or Katara or Toph challenge her facade as well. Ironically, Zuko doesn't do that very much, hence the first half of Book Fire where they were just hanging out together in the capital of the Evil Empire. But when Zuko does take action, he compels her to do the same more readily than any other. But Mai still does need to struggle with getting over that hill, even for Zuko, when all the other trappings of her life are holding her back.

Mai is happy to commit small, secret rebellions, but grand public acts are -- she knows from Zuko's banishment -- how you get the hammer dropped on you. A fun storytelling formula for her can be how she starts with some small and pointless mischief, and that leads to a spiral of more secrets and rebellions until she's right on the edge of fighting Azula to the death.

I also think Mai has a strong sense of loyalty. It can be argued how it all exactly ranks, but the list includes:

Zuko

Azula/Fire Nation

Family

Ty Lee

So putting those loyalties into conflict can be another way to have fun with her. AtLA itself put her loyalty to her brother in conflict with her loyalty to Azula, and later her loyalty to Azula in conflict with that to Zuko. Keep in mind, though, that the really interesting plots can have her trying (and failing?) to thread the needle, like how she left Tom-Tom with the gAang to satisfy Azula but also because she saw he was relatively safe with them. Having her make those hard choices in degrees is good fuel for storytelling.

That's everything that comes to mind. If you have questions about anything specific, feel free to drop another line! Good luck!