#again this is my first (and probably last) attempt at writing fanfic but constructive criticism is welcome

[bastardraccooon]

Jason loves it when you play with his hair. Your fingers tangled in his soft blonde locks, gently tugging at the strands. If it was up to him, he'd want your hands on his head 24/7.

You guys are hosting a movie night for your friends and he's sitting on the floor next to the couch you're on. Your hand finds his head, fingers itching to ruffle his hair and pet him like a dog. But someone asks you to pass the bowl of popcorn and Jason feels the absence of the warmth of your fingers. He tries to be patient, to wait for you to start petting playing with his hair but he's getting restless already. What's taking you so long? You're busy with the remote, fighting with Leo and Hazel, trying to figure out which movie to watch. Nope, can't wait, won't wait. Jason tugs at your hands, looks at you with those pleading eyes. How could you be so cruel, meum cor? And how could you? You toss the remote at Leo, let him pick whatever crappy movie he wants. Jason's hand is already guiding yours back to his head.

Jason Grace is a simple man with simple needs; you playing with his hair happens to be one of the most important ones.

[ahiddenpath]

Why do you insist on coddling fanfiction writers? Shouldn't we welcome constructive criticism so that we may improve? As a writer, I can't think of anything worse than resting my laurels on mediocre writing and developing hubris because everyone was too afraid to tell me how bad my fic really was.

I'm assuming this ask was prompted by the two posts I reblogged about fanfiction recently.

The first states that fanfic writers are working on their own projects. A reviewer telling them to write what they want to see isn't concrit. Unless the writer indicated that they aren't sure where to take the story and are looking for input, then telling a writer what to put in their fic is an attempt to have someone make content for you for free. If a reader wants specific content, they must write it, commission it, or seek out someone who is looking for prompts.

The second states that if you don't like a fic, then you shouldn't read it. The implication is that you should leave rather than leave a nasty review, but personally, I mostly take it as, "hey babe, your free time is precious, don't spend it on stuff you don't like." Again, this isn't about concrit. It's a warning against wasting your own time as a reader. Maybe the internet has always been this way, but there seem to be folks who engage in fandom by... Seeking out the exact opposite of what they like and then raging about it. In my opinion, this hurts everyone. Again, nothing here relates to concrit.

I'd say most writers like concrit, but concrit implies that the reader understood the work, possesses analytical skill, and cares about it enough to want to help the writer improve. If a reader cared about the fic, they wouldn't tell the writer to redo the work with their own preferences (ie, the reader's fave ships, tropes, whatever) (see the first above). At that point, what the reader wants is a different fic (see the second above), not to help this writer make their fic stronger. And if a reader dislikes the fic, its subject matter, whatever, then why would they waste their time giving concrit? They're just having a bad time and will probably not be able to provide concrit in good faith (see the second above).

If you're seeking concrit of your ask, and please do forgive me if you aren't, I'd gently suggest reading the original posts I reblogged more carefully. They make no mention of concrit. Also, they are not about coddling anyone, or even being kind. They're about readers using their most valuable resource- their time- more wisely, and also valuing the time of writers.

If you want concrit of your work, please indicate such in your fic, and also join a writing group. Most folks online don't have the free time or training to provide meaningful concrit, which will center on actual writing issues (pacing, management of exposition, cohesiveness of the narrative, etc). If someone is listing the ships and tropes they like and want to see in your fic in a review, that's not concrit. If someone is insulting your fic, that's not concrit. I'm sorry if you have accepted these things as concrit in the past. You deserve better- but also, you likely aren't going to find it for free, unless you have the incredible fortune of attracting a reader who loves your fic, has enough free time to engage deeply, and has some training in reviewing writing.

Meaningful concrit is a give and take thing. Expecting it for free is... A bit of an ask (although it does happen! I see you, review angels). So join a writing group that provides it, and give back in turn. Please don't hoist that expectation onto internet strangers. This kind of work is how you avoid resting on your laurels.

Oh, also, if you're looking for people to "tell you how bad your fic really was," there's... Probably a subreddit for that, assuming it hasn't imploded over the last few days. But again, "this fic is bad," is not concrit. That's... just an insult. If you want that, hey, go for it! But oh my goodness, please don't expect other people to want it in general. They don't. They really, really don't.

Best of luck to you on your writing journey.

[lamp-up-my-ass]

You wanna know what I want?

I am a lover of all things angst, and this includes toxic relationships, and sanders sides fanfic has not failed me with this. Theres the steadily growing amount of unsympathetic patton relationships gowing around, and a hanfull of unsympathitic roman fics ive seen. But the most ive seen is with deceit and remus being the abusers. I get it, its easy to put them in this role sense theyve been labeled the dark sides, but youre missing so much angst potential! So ive compiled some fic ideas revolving around these two characters.

Warnings:teen/adult, physical abuse, mental abuse, injury mention, smothering behavior, self harm, emotional abuse, blood, crying, breakdowns, isolating behavior, and unsympathetic patton and virgil.

Mociet with unsympathitic Patton

This can work in so many gut wrenching ways. Patton is so offten seen as the Dad friend, so maybe a fic where is older and Deceit younger? Imagine a 23 year old Patton, known for being nicest guy in the town, meeting 16 year old Deceit who, despite his punk style, is relatively sheltered and innocent. Patton prays on this innocence, but is put off by Deceits style, so he sets out to change him. All Pattonhas to do is treat Deceit to some tasty foods and kind words, and the teen cant stop thinking of him. Patton makes the first move and kisses Dee with no warning, before pressuring and convincing Dee into a relationship. They keep it secret, and for a while it's good. Until its not.

Patton starts to "accidentally" lose the clothes Dee would leave at his apartment, in exchange smothering him in gifts. Gifts of scratchy yellow sweaters and too tight pastel converse and other things that aren't his style. At first Patton acts normal when Dee doesn't wear these things, and its fine. Until one day Dee cant find his normal leather jacet on a cold day and opts to wear the sweater. He visits his boyfriend after school, and Patton instantly starts to cover Dee in praise when he sees him, calling him adorable and his little sunflower. They even have a heavy makeout session that abrudtly ends when Pat sees the black band T underneath the sweater. But its fine, Dee tells himself, probably nothing.

From then on, Deceit starts to notice how Patton becomes more distant, only ever gifting him cutesy clothes. All he wants is the attention he got that one day. So he starts to wear the clothes. Even when the sweater on his skin itches or the converse leaves small blisters or the bright colours leave him feeling uncomfortable. Its a small price to pay for the adoring look patton gives him.

Then, one day Deceit decides to wear his leather fingerless gloves on his date with Patt. When Patt answers the apartment door, he instanly frowns at the gloves. The dinner they have is stiff and quiet, patton not even glancing at the teen. When dinner is over and Dee is about to leave, Patt stops him. He asks why hes wearing those gloves, and starts to insult Dee. The teen tries to counter argue him, but Patts shouting and its scaring him. He never shouts.

Dee backs a few steps away, attempting to put space between him and his lover, but he bumps into one of Pattons flower vases and it shatters. Patton becomes more angry, screaming and stomping towards the boy. He grabs Dee and rips the gloves off. Dee panics and pushes himself away, but thats puts him off his balance. He falls backwards, onto the glass. The shards push into his hands and hes bleeding. Dee becomes upset, but before he can shout at Patt, his boyfriends there.

He has tears in his eyes and is apologising, pulling the teen into a tight hug. He keeps saying sorry and that he didnt mean too. He picks the boy up and puts him on the couch, smothering him in compliments. When patt "calms down" he attempts to lighten the mood. He says " next time dont be so clumsy." Dee ends up staying the night, missing school the next day. This is the last time he wears something like that.

When hes home, he gets a package from Patton. The note says " so that your not sutch a clutz next time :D." Inside theres a pair of pure white gloves, with little embroidered sunflowers.

Anxceit with Unsympathitic Virgil

This idea was easy to come up with. Virgil is the embodiment of anxiety and theres alot of things that can make you anxious in relationships.

They met at a concert. Deceit say the shorter man and his rainbow pin amd decided to give it a shot. He flirted with the little emo, cautious on if he was uncomfortable. They hit it off and went to a starbucks after the concert to get to know each other.

They kept in touch and continued to grow closer. Suprisingly, it was Virgil who asked him out. Their relationship was perfect. They ended up dating for 1 and a half years before they decided it was time to move in together.

Deceit noticed the change immediately. Whenever he would be on his phone, Virgil would go quiet. Whenever Dee came home from something or another, Virgil would launch himself at the taller individual. At first Dee thought nothing of this, thinking it was cute even. Until it was not.

Deceit had went out and visited some friends, talking and joking around with each other. Dee felt the constant buzzing of his phone in his pocket, but ignored it to speak to his friends. When he finally arrived home, he foumd out his mistake. Virgil stood in the living room, head bowed, and asked where dee was. Deciet responded quietly, concerned for his partner. Verge looked up and asked "why didnt you respond to my messages?!" Dee was taken aback, confused by Virgils behavior. Virgil saw this and started shouting at him. Right when Dee was about to respond, Virgil started to break down into sobs. Deciet ran over to him and tried to calm him down, but the other wouldnt stop repeating " dont leave me." When finally calm, virge looked up at Deceit and asked " can you please just tell me when you go somewhere?" Deceit agreed.

Things like this kept progressing, Virgil crying and breaking down any time Deceit doesn't tell him when he leaves the house. He starts to even get upset anytime Dee dosent text 5 minutes after he texts him, saying how hes scared that Dees leaving. Deceit feels bad for his partner, so he stops leaving the house for anything thats not work or food. Virgil is very happy about this. But only for a bit.

Since Deceit starts to be at home more, he keeps up with his freinds through text. He doesnt tell the why he stopped hanging out with them, ignoring the question anytime its asked. Virgil notices Dee being on his phone so often, and becomes jealous. One day, he sees Dee laughing at something on his phone, and jumps to conclusions. Virgil stomps over to Deceit and yanks the phone from his hands. He starts to shout, accusing him of cheating and lieing. Once agian, right before Dee is about to respond, Virgil cries. Once again he says hes scared and doesnt want him to leave. Deceit comforts Virgil, and Verge asks him something. "Can you just let me look at your phone when i get scared? Please?" Deceit agrees.

And once again, its all fine. They fall into a routine. Dee goea to work, calls Verge on his lunch brake, comes straight home, talk to Virgil, help make dinner, eat, have Virge check his phone, watch tv, and go to bed. It was simple. But Deceit was lonely. He missed his friends, missed seeing them and knowing whats going on in there life. So one day, Dee goes into his room and voice chats his friends.

Virgil enters and Dee stops the call. Virgil is mad. Hes shouting at Deciet and accusing him cheating once again. When hes done shouting, he glares at Dee and demands to see his phone. Deceit says no. This is the wrong answer.

Virgils eyes go wide, before turning around and marching out the room, slamming the door behind him. Deceit doesnt make a move until he hears Verge open a kitchen drawer. Deceit races out the bedroom to see Virgil cutting his arms with a knife. Dee grabs him and triea to get him to stop, only for Virgil to drop the knife and fall to the ground. Hes sobbing, saying that he has nothing to live for without Deceit. Deceit tries to calm him and carefully cares for his wounds, virgil still in tears.

Deceit doesnt contact his friends for a long time after that.

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

Hi! So these were just two of many ideas ive been having, and i hope you enjoyed! I plan to make a part 2 to this with lociet, roceit, and intruciet. If thats something youre intrested in, give me some feed back! Im ooen to any constructive criticism, and please tell me if i left any trigger warnings un named. Also, remember i have nothing against Patton and Virge, i actually enjoy them quiet a bit, so dont think I hate them or something! I just wanted to write something small including things like different types of abuse and character takes, im not saying that these characters are truly like this. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!!

[kakashisavakening]

Prologue

Hello guys! This is Obli, and I am here to write some fanfic for y'all. Honestly, this is my first attempt and I know I have chosen a kind of controversial couple to ship, due to their age difference and the fact that they literally have no chance in hell - I mean the series is way past that - but I have shipped them since I was like 12, so... um.. yeah. So now a decade later, when I am in UNI and have absolutely no free time, I have decided to publish the story that I have worked on lately. I started rewatching that series (I haven't even reached the Shippuden part, so there will probably be factual faults - oops - So if there is, I welcome the constructive criticism). And yes, please, I welcome questions, comments, concerns!!! ENJOY ❤️

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It has been weeks since Naruto and the others went out for another mission. Ever since they had received the Chunin title, there were less and less missions where the usual team would go. Kakashi almost never tagged along anymore. As Chunins, they often got missions where they would lead a team of Genins. And this time was not different. 

Naruto had taken a group of four out to go another round in search for Orochimaru’s hideout. Again. He had asked Sakura wether she would like to join them, but she was just so so tired at this point. The search has been going on for years now, no success at that. Not to mention that she KNEW that Sasuke doesn’t wish to return. All those years ago, she begged him to stay. Sakura offered everything she had and everything she was to him, just to be left behind with an empty "thank you". 

As always, Naruto left with that flame of determination in his eyes. He still believed that THIS will be the time when he fulfils his promise to Sakura and brings Sasuke back. Preferably after really kicking the shit out of Orochimaru. He has always been so brave. So persistent. But so naive. As Sakura carried the groceries home, that confident smile forced its way into her memories. 

"Oh, Naruto... I wish I knew you were okay..." - She thought. Sakura would have preferred if a Jonin would have joined the mission, preferably Kakashi. Their sensei had always looked after them and took good care of them. But he was already out on another, A-rank mission. 

After helping out at home, Sakura went to see the Fifth. She had been training with her, learning about medical jutsus. Tsunade has taken her under her wing shortly after Naruto returned from the first time he tried to bring Sasuke back. Tsunade was asleep on top of some medical papers on her desk when she had arrived. Sakura gently shook her shoulders, and the Fifth slowly blinked a couple times. 

"Good, you're finally here. I have been waiting for you." - She said, still half asleep. Her notes were on some soul linking jutsus and consciousness bindings as far as Sakura could tell. - "There has been some unfortunate turn of events and I think you might be the only one currently who could help."

"Unfortunate events? Is Naruto back? Is he okay?" - She asked. Naruto had left about two and a half weeks ago. All she could think of was the time he was in the hospital after his first attempt. 

"It's not Naruto." - Tsunade muttered as she gathered her papers. A wave of relief washed over Sakura. As much as she had loved Sasuke, she could never forgive herself if this would end in Naruto's death. - "It is Kakashi. He had a run in with the Akatsuki; Itachi, to be exact. Genma said that Kakashi has been unresponsive since. I thought it was like the last time when he was mentally tortured, but this is way worse. He is stuck in his psyche and I can't do anything to pul him out of this vegetative state."

Sakura's previous nervousness took over again. The sensei was just as important to her as Naruto or Sasuke. He was part of her team. He was part of her life. - "What do you mean you can't reach him? If you can't do anything, how am I supposed to do ANYTHING?!" - Damnit - she thought. Tsunade calmly began walking towards the door. Sakura felt her throat tighten. She still felt like the weakest link in the group. No matter how much stuff she memorised, how much she trained or how many missions she had completed. It seemed like she always remained behind the others. She was just a bystander, watching them grow stronger, then eventually get hurt over and over. Will she really be just stand here and watch as they waste away? - " Tell me, Tsunade-sama. What can I do that you cannot?" - she was fighting her tears back. It wasn't just the fact that she was worried about Kakashi, or that she felt useless once again, but also nervous that whatever the Fifth wanted from her, she wouldn't be able to do. 

Tsunade turned her head and glanced at her. - "Are you planning on remaining this childish or will you get you shit together? I need you and Kakashi needs you even more." - She waved her notes in the air. - "I have a plan - a forbidden technique... If you think you can manage without turning into a ball of snot, see me in the hospital in about two hours please."

Sakura stared after her as she walked out of the Hokage's office. Tsunade has not really ever been this raw towards her. She must be just as worried about the Jonin as she was... There has to be a reason why she would specifically need her for this. The Fifth was a medical genious after all. And the last time she pulled Kakashi out of his coma in seconds.  She wiped her tears off, as she took a tissue out of one pocket on her chunin west. Tsunade trusts her. There HAS to be a reason, right?

[dramaqueeenamby]

The Tulips Are Too Red

A/N: So, I have a favor to ask of you all. Sooooo many of you have shared such kind words with me, sending encouragement my way in regards to my writing. Many of you even believe that I could be published my day. That still gets to me. 

Anyway, here’s the thing, before I ventured into writing BP fics, I created a completely fictional story that I planned to post on Wattpad once I finished the other stories on there. Well, that never happened. I was working on chapters, getting up to three done but stopped as I was busy with other Wattpad fics. However, you guys have really got me thinking about my writing and just future in general.

So, I’m posting one of the chapters that I’ve written in the hopes that you guys will let me know your honest opinion of it. If it’s shitty, please say so. Constructive criticism will only make me better as a writer. 

Also, as I was rereading it, I realized that I could really turn this into a BP fanfic as well, a T’Challa x OC story once I finish up the rest of the fics that I’m juggling. 

Okay. I’ll shut up and allow you to read. I also won’t tag anyone because this is far from what you’re used to seeing from me.

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It Is Winter Here

Chapter 1

It is Winter Here.

There are exactly twenty-four hours in a day. In minutes, that number grows to 1,440, and in seconds, it’s a whopping 86,400. Most people don’t think about stuff like that. Time. Unless they’re wondering how much they have left before they can clock off and go home to their adoring wife who’s been slaving over a stove all day. Or maybe their kids who’ve been home alone since they got out of school doing God knows what with God knows who. Other than those scenarios, and maybe a few more, like I said, hardly ever cross the mind.

But I’m not most people.

I tend to think about these things. I think about a lot of things actually. Like how long Craig plans to grow out his hair, or if Tammy will ever realize that that infomercial with claims of a one hundred percent success rate is based on a trial of exactly five participants, four of them, paid ‘volunteers’. I also notice a lot of things. Most of which, again, people are never privy to because of their supercilious concerns.

Like I said.

Not most people.

I watch her, not even attempting to hide my suspicious stare. She’s been sitting in the same spot for over an hour, a People magazine in hand and expensive shades over her eyes. To anyone else, she’s just another patron with plenty of time to spare. To me, she’s a hawk. No one reads the same magazine for an hour straight, especially one with a Kardashian on the cover.

“For someone who literally needs someone to wipe his ass, this guy is one hell of a di*k.” I look over at Candi who has been reading for roughly thirty minutes and is almost halfway through with the 400-page novel. “He sounds cute though. At least, the way she describes him makes him sound cute.”

“So you’d take him to the shop?” Zaria shifts in her seat, eyes staying on the photographic book in her lap. She’s had the same one for over an hour.

Candi giggles and lifts her left shoulder. “He could own the shop.” I roll my eyes and tap my nails against the mahogany wood armrest of my spacious chair. “Candi likes being on top anyway.”

“Candi likes all positions.” I chime, finally throwing in my two cents.

She sighs loudly and flips her blonde locks over a naturally tanned shoulder. “I’m a lover, Nova. You should try it sometime.”

“Oh I think you have enough to give for the three of us, Candi Cane.” I wink and return my eyes to the woman in question. I squeeze the solid chair, ignoring the pressure it puts on my weak nails. She still has that same damn magazine and has again started from the first page, looking over the front cover like she doesn’t already have the scandalous image and cliched caption memorized.

“Guys.” Zaria’s voice brings me back to reality as she pulls down the sleeves of her white shirt. There’s no need for her to do so, but it’s a habit of hers. “It’s time.”

Sure enough, Pat is only feet away from us, that stupid rehearsed smile on his droopy face.

“Already.” Candi pouts and puts her arms in front of her, hands in between her thighs, her busty chest on full display. “But I’m almost done.”

Pat offers a strained smile, chubby fingers going up to adjust his thick-rimmed glasses. “Why don’t you just buy the book, Candi?”

She tilts her head to the side and deepens her pout. “I already spent my allowance.”

“On?” When she smiles wickedly, his Adam's apple moves up and then down. “Candi.”

“Oh relax, Patty.” She giggles again and chews on her bottom lips, untangling her long legs and rising to her full height. “What kind of girl do you think I am?” She pulls out a southern accent and pulls a finger to her mouth, pretending to think. “Or is it woman?”

“I wanna buy mine,” Zaria informs, also standing up, looking like a lost child next to Candi’s lengthy frame. “Nova?”

I get up, taking Candi’s book and placing it on top of mine. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Zaria pulls her sleeves down again and tucks the book under her arm, walking in front of me, leaving poor Pat to deal with Candi while we complete this transaction.

On our way to the registers, I look back and see that the Hawk is walking out, stuffing the magazine in her black Hamilton bag.

She can’t be stealing. It’s a possibility, but judging by the tennis bracelet on her wrist and that rock on her ring finger, stealing seems rather out of character. No. The magazine is clearly hers. I wiggle my fingers and fix my jaw.

Who in the hell comes to a bookstore to read a magazine they already own?

Like I said, hawk.

✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻

The car ride back is long, bumpy, and crowded. The van, overdue for some serious improvements or a junking, has a strong odor. It’s not vomit inducing, but its stench will leave you crinkling your nose when you first get a waft. In the second row, seatbelt stretched and clutching onto a protruding chest, Candi engages in conversation with the driver.

He’s new, probably a tempt, and after a car ride with Candi Wallace, this will be his last time filling in.

“It’s so beautiful.” Zaria murmurs to my left, her tiny fingers and raggedy nails trailing over a portrait of the grand canyon. “The view from the top must be breathtaking.”

I give the picture a few seconds of my time, for her sake. It is nice, but nature has never really stood out to me. Too many elements that I can’t control. “Maybe one day you can take your own picture. That one, I’d maybe even frame.”

Aside from a small smile, she says nothing.

The rest of the ride is filled with Candi’s musing and Pat’s occasional business calls. When we pull up, the driver and Pat flash ID’s; the guard peaks his head in the car to make sure that everything checks out.

After Candi flashes him a wink and places her index finger in her mouth, he gives her a one-over and lets us in.

“He wants me.” She mouths to us and then giggles, clapping her hands together and resuming her goal of bugging the driver. When we pull up to the entrance, she’s the first one out, blowing him a kiss and happily waving. “Call me.”

“Maybe,” I add on, smiling when she shoots me a glare. “I couldn’t help.”

“Jealousy really isn’t becoming of you, Nova.” She raises her chin and saunters through the automatic doors, switching her hips and uttering variations of hello to everyone she passes.

“You gotta admit.” Zaria starts, keeping her book clutched against her chest. “She’s fun to be around.”

I look over my shoulder to see Pat watching us closely. He’s so annoying.

I roll my eyes. “My lady, you and I have very different definitions of fun.” Swinging my arm around her shoulder is easy as we’re roughly the same height. I think I have an inch on her, maybe even less.

She laughs, and I crack a small smile. Those are becoming more prevalent by the day. It’s a stark contrast from our first meeting where she woke me up out of my sleep with screams and sobs that were only silenced by a heavy sedative.

We’ve come a long way.

“Ladies.” Pat interrupts. I suppress my eye roll.

As always, Candi is the first to volunteer. Smiling happily, she keeps her arms up wide and legs spread perfectly. “It’s new.” She informs happily when the man reaches her chest and pouts when he says nothing in reference to Candi’s new bra. When he’s done, Candi mouths ‘as*hat’ to us, and I put myself in front of the man before he gets a chance to call on Zaria.

With a bored face, I let him do his job, sending a glare when he keeps his hands on my as* for too long.

Creep.

When it comes to Zaria’s turn, I take her book from her, sending her a reassuring grin. She doesn’t return my gesture, but I’m okay with that. Her eyes say thanks. That’s enough for me.

Any sign of trust from Zaria is enough for me.

My glare stays on the jerk the entire time. I watch his every movement, waiting for him to try something with her. When he gets to her chest, I feel fingers move about, fighting the urge to ball my fist. I can literally see the discomfort on her part. She’s literally counting the seconds until he moves his hands anywhere else. I don’t know if he can tell that I’m willing to have my level 5 access revoked or if he senses the ardent apprehension radiating from her, but he keeps it short and professional. As soon as he’s done, she’s back by me, reaching for her book.

“Well, he was a meanie,” Candi comments as we wait for Pat to put the key in the panel right next to the elevator.

“Too touchy feely for my liking,” I reply loud enough so Pat can hear. He says nothing. Neither does Zaria. The rest of the elevator ride is in silence aside from Candi humming “Oops! I Did It Again.”

When we finally reach our floor, the three of us stand outside the elevator for our evaluation.

“Well, you ladies seemed to have done rather well today.” Pat smiles, the fat on his face parallel with the rolls that make up his neck. “If you’d like, we can try again next week.” I yawn, wishing that I could just walk away. I’d risk losing my clearance for Zaria or even Candi, but not myself.

Someone has to keep these two from extending their bid.

“Tomorrow the group outing is to the aquarium.” He smiles fondly like this is the best news we’ve heard all day. One glance to a somewhat excited Zaria makes me realize that for her, it probably is. “I think you all would have a fine time.”

“I wanna show off my new bra. I’m game.” Candi grabs her boobs, lifting them with a wink and a smile. “Nova?”

I can literally think of a million things that I’d rather do than spend a day at the aquarium, but one look at Zaria, and I know my decision has already been made for me.

“I guess a day with Happy Feet won’t be too bad.” What I want to say is it won’t kill me, but around here, there are just some words you want to try and avoid. Kill being one of them. It’s for good reason though.

Even I’m not too much of an as*hole to admit that.

✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻

For dinner, we had chicken lasagna with mixed vegetables, garlic bread,  and apple pie for dessert. If it sounds magically delicious, you’re magically wrong.

The chicken was bland, the vegetables cold, and the garlic bread might have left me with some cracked teeth. The apple pie was decent, but nothing to brag about. I shouldn’t complain. Yesterday we had beef casserole.

Majority of my plate ended up in the trash.

“He was cute though, right?” Candi brushes through her hair, that dazed look in her eyes. That can only mean one thing. She’s already been given her nighttime dosage. “Of course he was. I only fu*k with the best.”

Zaria, fresh-faced, arms out and exposed in her short-sleeved shirt and blue Soffee shorts, offers a small laugh. “He must have been close to forty Candi.”

“And I thought you only liked ballers?” I wondered aloud from my position on Zaria’s bed. Next to me, she continues to admire the pictures in her book.

“Well, duh. I need a middleman to get to him.” She says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, moving her shoulders from side to side, admiring her reflection. “I think my tits are getting bigger.”

“Your tits or your ego?”

She glares through the mirror and then pouts. “Boo, you whore.”

Zaria frowns. “You know I don’t like that word.”

“You don’t like anything, Zaria.” Candi rolls her eyes.

“Better than liking everything.” Zaria shoots back with a sly smile. I high five her, much to Candi’s chagrin. “If you catch my drift.”

“You guys are mean.” She stomps her feet and resumes brushing her hair.

When Zaria yawns, I realize her that her Clonezepam has already kicked in. Her lids are heavy, and she moves to put her book up.

“Uh oh. I think someone is sweepy.” She says in a baby voice and moves to pinch Zaria’s cheek, but Zaria swats her hand away. Candi laughs and sits on the bed, giving her a half hug. “Night, ladybug.” She kisses her cheek and brushes the top of her head.“You know I’m right down the hall if ya’ need me, sugar.”

“And I’m right next door,” I add on, lightly punching her on the arm. “Sleep tight, kid.”

“Thanks, guys.” She smiles gratefully, getting up at the same time we do so she can pull back the covers. She doesn’t even care that the horizontal lines on the inside of her thighs from not even two years ago are on full display. In the privacy of her room, even with Candi and I, Zaria is true to be herself.

We all are.

Candi yawns loudly with outstretched arms. “I’m wiped.”

“Doesn’t take much.” I chuckle, but hug her side. “Good night Candi Cane.”

She smiles brightly, her pearly whites distracting the small mole on the right side of her chin. “Night, babycakes.” I don’t even react as she squeezes my butt. I simply shake my head and walk over to my door.

I stop when I go to turn the handle, noticing the light peaking through the bottom of the door.

Smirking, I walk in and shut it behind me.

“Can I help you with something?”

He’s sitting on the green, faux leather chair in the corner of my room. I narrow my eyes, wishing that I could wipe that smug grin off his chiseled face. He leans forward, his green scrubs a contrast against his sun-kissed skin, the short sleeves clinging against solid muscle.

“I’m here for night check.”

I chuckle, purposely taking my time as I make my way over to him. “Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you Mr..,” I look over at the badge on his shirt. “Collins, but I have level 5 access. I don’t need a night check.” My body is jolted forward, my knees immediately separating so that I’m straddling him. “This is highly unprofessional and extremely inappropriate.” I moan as one hand goes to stroke my already hardened nipple and the other slips into my shorts.

He mimics my chuckle, satisfied when he feels the wetness already pooling from my core. “I’ve seen your records, Ms. Young.” He stands us up, his hand still in my shorts, teasingly running his finger up and down my folds. “Breaking rules is your specialty.”

I look down at him, his blue eyes holding nothing but pent up lust. Using my index finger, I run my finger down his cheek, parting his mouth and tugging on his bottom lip.

“Then what are you waiting for, Doctor?”

With a guttural growl, he throws me on the bed. I don’t think I need to tell you what happened next.

Two hours later, he’s long gone, and I’m out like a light.

Just another typical day at Lakeshore Mental Hospital.

[artificialqueens]

Convenient Denial Ch. 1 (Biadore) - Valencia

AN: FINALLY IT ME, THE BIADORE HOLIDAY FIC <3 I’m sorry it’s taken so long, it’s my first time writing fanfic so please let me know how I’m doing - I’d love to get any feedback/constructive criticism :)) The next two chapters are going to be super smutty with a sprinkling of angst/fluff and I think it’ll probably be around 4-5 chapters in total (I might write a pure fluff epilogue as well to finish it off depending on if you guys like it)

Thanks heaps for reading, love Valencia x

Blurb: Roy is convinced the only reason why he misses Danny so much is because they’re such good friends - nothing more, nothing less. Danny is supposedly well over the silly crush he used to have on Roy back in Season 6. As they go on holiday together, feelings surface that neither quite know how to deal with.

Chapter 1

The tensely corded muscles in Roy’s neck and his constant stress headaches are a blaring sign that he needs a holiday. He always a bit on edge lately, but surprisingly he’s been in a good mood the last couple of days –since Adore’s father’s day post. Danny always knows how to make him smile, and the annual father’s day post dedicated to him never fails to do so. Roy can’t quite pinpoint why, but he’s missing Danny more than usual especially after seeing his latest photos online. Not for the first time, he scrolls through Adore’s instagram feed, trying to ignore the way his eyes lingers on the more racy pics. A stupid grin refuses to leave his face as he clicks on Adore’s post to him. He reads the cute caption over twice before letting himself look at their photo. His heart tugs as he sees adorably rumpled Danny. They both look so happy, so content and comfortable in each other’s company. He misses the days during and after Season 6 when it seemed like his entire world was Adore and Courtney. Now all the time they get together is a group dinner every couple of months if they’re lucky. And barely any time with Danny.

Danny’s the one person he misses the most when he’s on the road. He knows exactly when to make him laugh, and when to stay quiet - even though he never actually does, and he’s a pro at reading him right back whenever Roy dishes it out. No one knows Roy Haylock, or Bianca Del Rio as well as Danny does, and that’s why they’re the closest of friends. He just wishes sometimes they could be like normal best friends, be able to walk over to each other’s houses whenever they feel like it and spend lazy Sundays watching trash reality shows, gossiping about their co-workers and painting their nails. He can’t remember the last time they saw each other for more than a couple days.  

Feeling unreasonably sorry for himself, he pushes all thoughts of Danny away. He’s lucky to be given this opportunity to travel the world, he firmly reminds himself, and he’s worked so hard to get to where he is now. But even Roy can tell he’s overworked and stressed, especially judging by the fact that he’s getting all soppy over something as small as missing his friend. He definitely needs a fucking holiday. The thought of a holiday has plagued his mind the last year or so but he’s never let himself commit to going. He dislikes being on a plane a second longer than needed but if he stays at home he knows he’ll end up working again, doing taxes or some other mundane task. Roy decides he has to go relax and unwind, have some drinks and maybe a massage or two - hopefully that’ll work all this tension out of his system.

He trawls the internet, researching destinations and browsing through idyllic beachfront resort photos. For some reason he doesn’t really feel that excited. After some thought he realises he can’t just sit alone in his own company for a week, he’ll be bored out of his mind. But on the other hand, he generally prefers his own company over others. Except for… No.. he can’t take Danny, can he? He mentally checks Adore’s schedule; refusing to admit to himself that it’s kinda stalkerish that he knows her entire upcoming month off by heart. He tells himself that he’s always made an effort to keep tabs on her career only because he’s incredibly proud of her success but it goes deeper than Roy likes to acknowledge - he mainly just likes to know where Danny is, especially when he’s not home. Adore isn’t touring at the moment but she’s fully booked around the States. What if he asks and Danny doesn’t think spending time together is important enough to miss his prior work commitments? Danny’s biggest pet peeve is being called lazy based on his punk drag and throws himself into his work to prove everyone wrong. Roy can’t do it, he’s so nervous even the thought of that conversation makes his stomach lurch. He knows he isn’t going to be able to face the rejection that may follow. With the idea of a holiday dismissed yet again, he pours himself a bitterly strong drink and slowly starts painting his eyes like a racoon for Bianca’s evening show.

The idea of Danny and Roy on vacation together buzzes around in Bianca’s head all night, no matter how hard she tries to concentrate on her comedy gig. Can’t help but get a little lost in the thoughts of having breakfast with Danny every single morning for seven days. Hearing Danny’s sunny laughter when he succeeds in making the younger man laugh and being able to say “See you tomorrow” and actually mean it. Bianca glugs through her drinks like a deprived alcoholic the entire show, trying and failing miserably to get Danny out of her head. Slowly everything starts to get a bit hazy, but that does little to repress the thoughts she’s been attempting to ignore. After a couple more drinks after the show has ended, with yet another stiff drink in hand, he finds himself picking out their seat selection so Danny can sit next to the window.

Roy wakes up the next morning to a pounding headache and a flight confirmation in his email inbox. His stomach slightly twists as he reads over the details.

Holiday resort package for two - Bali - one week.

Paranoia takes over, and he’s wondering how he’s going to break it to Danny - would Danny think it’s weird? Would he assume that Roy is just old and lonely, trying to buy company? Fuck. The older man doesn’t want to hear the hesitant ‘Sorry, I’ve got a lot going on right now’ from his lips, and the guilty ‘oh no, I feel so bad for wasting your tickets’ that will follow. Well. The tickets are already bought so he commands himself to suck it up, grow a pair and let Danny know. It’s his choice what he wants to do.

“I’ve got tickets. A week holiday, from this weekend.” Danny isn’t surprised at the early morning call from Roy or the lack of a greeting. “Oh my god cool! Where to?” “I won them.” He blurts out. Where the fuck did that come from? The white lie just slips out, his subconscious clearly a tad too insecure to tell him the full truth. Danny laughs, “You fucking lucky bitch. I guess once a winner always a winner.” “Guess that’s what happens when you’ve got talent.” Roy retaliates. A characteristic scream laugh from Danny’s end of the line. “Lucky for me I get to enjoy your benefits. So who’s the real winner bitch?” Roy’s laughing into the phone and Danny’s chest elates - he loves making Roy laugh.  He can’t remember the last time someone besides Roy has made him this goofily happy.

“So you wanna come?” “Fuck yeah, I’m down.” It’s only after Roy hangs up he realises with a grin that Danny has agreed to come without even knowing where they were going.

The second his call with Roy ends he’s calling his manager and cancelling the week block. There must be something in his voice, an urgency perhaps, that makes his manager silent for a few seconds on the phone rather than a straight up ‘what the fuck?!’ “You’re sure?” She asks dubiously. Danny’s never asked for time off before. “Yeah man, I really need some time, you know, to take care of myself.” She agrees to postpone whatever she can and Danny is thinking to himself that the stars have finally aligned. He gets Roy all to himself in paradise for a whole week - for free too! They’re going to have time to talk for fucking hours and do every single thing he misses doing with Roy. It’s gonna be fucking epic.

*  * *  * * *  * * * *

Roy tells Danny a later flight time so he knows the messy man won’t be packed. He drags Danny off to the airport with just a carry on each, haphazardly packed last minute. “Do you know what my deepest, darkest fantasy is?” Roy says suggestively, quirking a brow. Danny brain stutters for a split second - god yes, he wants to hear every single one of Roy’s dirty fantasies. “Wha?” He cringes at how he breathless he sounds as soon as the word is out of his mouth but thankfully Roy doesn’t seem to notice. “Travelling with just a tiny ass carry on!” Roy says with a laugh. Danny nods in full agreement, suppressing the tinge of disappointment he feels when he realises the latino man isn’t talking about anything remotely sexual. “Yeah girl, if we’re hauling their asses back on a plane we’re gonna do it without 5 motherfucking suitcases of drag.”

*  * *  * * *  * * * *

“Does our room have a balcony?” Danny asks with puppy dog eyes. Roy chuckles, and Danny nudges him with his shoulder as they’re walking from the resort lobby to the elevators. “I’m serious! I need a balcony for my morning joints.” “It’s not our room pussyfart, we have our own rooms. We’re famous remember? We can afford it.” Roy sarcastically retorts. Their rooms are side by side, almost identical with a king bed and a ridiculous number of pillows on each. Danny cheekily waits until Roy is unpacked before declaring that he prefers Roy’s balcony and that he better get used to him using it. The two look similar - actually Danny’s room seems to have the better view. Roy doesn’t argue though, he knows Danny will be out on his balcony pretty much 24/7 - and he doesn’t mind at all.

“We made it girl!” Danny flops onto the bed like a mermaid, legs tilted together before stretching out into a starfish and rolling around. “And the flight wasn’t even too bad.” Danny had thoroughly enjoyed the seemingly too short flight, mainly because he had spent most of it with Roy’s head nestled between his neck and shoulder. The show they started watching was so good too, even though half his attention was constantly fixed on how close Roy was to him. They spy the massive pool from their balcony and decide to have a dip, overly excited by the fact the pool also has a built in bar. “Wanna get a drink to celebrate?” Roy asks smiling. Danny jumps up without hesitation, “Party.”

They freshen up and make their way downstairs. Roy’s changed into a pair of khaki shorts that are tighter than usual and Danny’s eyes can’t help but trail down his toned back and linger on his round ass. Danny loves the booty, no matter what size or shape, but goddamn - the curve of Roy’s heart shaped ass is mouthwateringly gorgeous. Ugh, such a gorgeous man with such a gorgeous ass. He pushes the thought out of his head as they enter the outdoor balcony seating, he can’t think of Roy like that. He isn’t allowed to, not after the first time around. There had been a period after Season 6 where he let himself indulge in that fantasy. Mistaking every friendly and affectionate gesture as hidden romantic interest only led to the most painful heartbreak of his life – and it was worse because he never had Roy to begin with, so technically he didn’t even have a loss to mourn. But he’s over it now, and as long as he doesn’t let this thoughts stray to what could’ve been, he’ll be just fine.

They sprawl themselves on reclined lounge chairs, enjoying the luxury of ordering their food and drinks poolside. Impatient to swim, Roy wolfs down his noodles in record time and starts to lather on sunscreen. “Wait 30 minutes girl. I got mad cramps swimming after eating pizza once it was not cute.”  Roy secretly loves that Danny fusses over him a lot of the time but he rolls his eyes for dramatic effect. “No need to mother me.” “I’d rather be daddy actually.” Danny pouts his lips and winks suggestively. Roy lies back down to tan as he waits for the food in his stomach to settle and Danny moves himself closer so they can chat over the noise of the busy pool. They start discussing the drama on the tv show they’ve started on the plane, their unending stream of conversation diverging until they’re somehow giggling at each other’s childhood stories.

They’re so wrapped up in each other and it’s only when the sun is setting in glorious streaks of red and purple that they realise how late it’s become. Not wasting any more time, they jump in; Roy swimming long, powerful strokes while Danny splish splashes around like a flying fish. He keeps accidentally splashing Roy in the face, shrieking and pretending to drown when Roy retaliates. They have handstand competitions and bet drinks on who can hold their breath underwater the longest. Danny always wins despite his smoker lungs and Roy playfully accuses him of cheating, jumping on him and pulling him under. “It’s ‘cause I’m a mermaid.” He says with a theatrical hair flip. Roy shakes his head, “More like a siren. Luring trade to their tragic deaths.” Danny blinks up at him with wet eyelashes and a cheeky smile and Roy can’t stop staring at how fucking perfect his face is. He can’t stop his hammering heart either and even though he knows his heart shouldn’t be beating that fast for a friend, especially Danny, his heart gives zero fucks.

They swim until they’re the only two left in the pool and it feels like their entire bodies are pruned. Roy gets out first to get them towels and as the multicoloured poolside lights reflect off the sheen of water on his body, Danny can’t help but gawk at him. Roy’s wearing a thin loose singlet, and seeing it plastered wet on him is almost more erotic than his bare chest. The clingy see through shirt defines the lean muscles of his torso, not leaving much to the imagination yet not revealing everything. God, his thoughts turn dirty so quick it makes his head spin and Danny gets hard as his eyes trail down to where Roy’s tight shorts do nothing to conceal his bulge. He’s trying to think of repulsive and un-sexy things like centipedes and people getting run over by a bus but his efforts get lost in a sea of filthy fantasies where Roy and him share the starring role.

“Let’s go back up, the pool’s closing down. I think the cleaners are getting a bit impatient waiting on us.” Roy’s standing by the edge of the pool, ready to go. Danny shakes his head, wracking his brain for an excuse to stay in a bit longer until he can get his problem under control. His face is an open book and it slowly dawns on Roy why he’s blushing and refusing to get out. “Oh my god are you haard?” Roy teases with a chuckle, his voice involuntarily deepening. “No it’s just- it’s not because of anything- it’s just like- one of those random boners you get you know? When you’re in one position for ages and then you move suddenly-” He’s rambling nervously, looking anywhere but Roy which the older man is thankful for - or else he would’ve noticed Roy heatedly staring at the outline of his hardened cock pressing against his swimming shorts. Roy forces himself to look away. “C’mere, I’ll block you. The cleaners are coming over to tell us to go.” He holds out a towel for him as Danny sheepishly gets out, avoiding all eye contact. Roy thinks to himself that red-faced, embarrassed Danny is probably one of the cutest things he’s ever seen - and accidentally-hard Danny is definitely the sexiest.

[hogwarts-memery]

Alone (Platonic Merula x Reader)

I don’t love my writing but I had a lot of feelings so here you go

please comment if I said he or she instead of they for Y/N I tried to keep it gender neutral but I’m not great at editing, so let me know and I’ll change it right away. Also please feel free to give constructive criticism and feedback (on the art or and the writing or both), I haven’t done fanfic in a while and I’m trying to improve

(Could be romantic if you squint)

Y/N had found early in their second year that after midnight the only one patrolling the halls was Filch, who was easy to avoid if you knew his routes. Now, halfway through their third (with much help from Tulip and Rowan), they had memorized the path he took and found exactly how to continue the search for the vaults after hours.

They had snuck up the stairs and around the corner to find Merula Snyde sitting on the steps to the Astronomy tower. Y/N was about to turn back and avoid the most likely unpleasant encounter, before they noticed her pink-tinted face in her hands, and her shaking shoulders. They looked back down the corridor, knowing Filch was likely on his way, before sighing and silently sitting down next to Merula on the cold metal steps.

She didn’t seem to notice until she lowered her hands from her face and glared at them with bloodshot red ringing her pink eyes. “What do you want Y/L/N?” she sneered, wiping her tears and attempting to hide any evidence of her crying.

“Apparently I’m enough of an idiot to try and help even you from getting a detention.” They said with an eye roll.

“I could’ve told you that.” Merula scoffed with a harsh laugh.

“But,” they shifted a bit closer to her, “I’m not enough of a prick to leave you crying here.” She opened her mouth, likely with a venomous retort on her tongue, but snapped it shut and turned her gaze back to the ground. Y/N took a deep breath “Tulip told me-”

“Oh, I’m sure that little traitor told you plenty about me. Every single thing I confided in her, she turns her back and tells it all to the next person who gives her the time of day.” She curled her hands into tight fists as hot, angry tears rolled down her pink cheeks.

“She told me your parents are in Azkaban.”

Merula paled for a second, just a second, before returning to her usual prickly demeanor. “Surprised it took you this many years to figure it out. Most knew before our first year even started because they actually read the paper instead of using it as bedding for their toads.”

Y/N sighed. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re not alone. I’ve lost family too, and-“

“Oh please don’t act like losing a sibling is anything like losing your parents. You lose a sibling, you go to the funeral, you cry, you get your own room, and you get over it. With your parents, you don’t get to get over it. You get cruel classmates who like to remind you of what your parents did and call you ‘Voldemort’s Golden Child’. You get foster parents who shout at you and starve you and beat you for what your parents did and call it justice. You get pompous pricks who think picking on a bad person’s kid makes them a good one. Or, even worse, you get the kind who like to pretend like they’re your real parents, like they care and they’re not just taking care of you for the check. And no matter how much they ask about your day or how many nice warm meals they cook you they’ll always just be a reminder that you can’t have the warm loving family that they have. That your family is gone forever… and you…” she sniffed, tears welling up in her eyes again.

They sat quietly on the step while Merula cried.

“My dad died last year.” Y/N whispered, feeling a lump in their throat forming. Merula was silent. “I was still here, at Hogwarts, and I didn’t know- I had no idea he was even sick. He was apparently too weak to write to me, and my stepmum never knew how…” Merula stared at her fists, processing their words. “I went back for summer holidays, and when I opened the door, she-my stepmum she just collapsed in the middle of the apartment and started crying. And I didn’t know what to do-I didn’t…” Y/N’s tears finally spilled over the edge, dripping down their cheeks. Their breathing quickened, they felt their heart racing, they felt their chest tighten and their face get red hot, until they felt a hesitant brush against their shoulder. Then it was a firm, reassuring hand. Merula silently comforted them and let them continue.

“My- my real mum, my birth mum, she’s been at St. Mungo’s since I was 4 years old. And I can’t ask my stepmum to adopt me, she’s already having to figure out how to raise two sets of twins on her own. So...I’m not sure what I’m going to do.” They trailed off, the horror of no longer having a family finally hitting them.

“It’s...it’s not so bad. Your parents were probably good people, so any foster parents you have will probably leave you alone.” Merula grumbles.

“Ah, but how could you forget my mad brother who nearly destroyed all of Hogwarts?” Y/N said with beyond obvious sarcasm.

“Right…” Merula whispered, frowning to herself in the palpably uncomfortable silence. “You know, as much as I tease you about Jacob, I do hope he’s alive, for your sake.” Y/N looked at the normally angry girl with wide eyes and genuine surprise.

“Why’s that?” Y/N asked, preparing themself for a joke about him being crazy or a jab at their own mental problems.

“Because Y/N Y/L/N, I know what it’s like to be really, truly alone. And no one deserves that.”

Filch caught them a few minutes later. The next day in detention, instead of a glare or a snide remark, Merula gave a tight-lipped smile before sitting in the opposite corner of the room, far away from everyone else. And Y/N got up from her seat, practically in the middle of the most social children there, and sat next to Merula. She gave them an odd look, and by the end she’d put her walls back up and continued to sneer and make jabs at their brother and make snide remarks, but Y/N smiled, and shrugged off every rude word she said, but most importantly they didn’t move from that spot. And the day afterwards, they sat next to her again, and endured all of her comments and insults, and the day after that as well.

Because Merula Snyde was a girl who knew what it was like to be really, truly alone. But for at least one night, and one week of detention, she didn’t have to be.

[marvelsmagic]

Light - Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!reader

Summary: Y/N is at university at the New York Film Academy. While working on a documentary for a school, she ends up recording something she probably should not have seen.

Warnings: stress, sad animals, and a very cute shirtless peter parker ;)

Words: 1615

Song: Light / Sleeping at Last

AN: This is my first fanfic! I’ve been wanting to do this for years, and I finally decided I want to give back to all of the creators and the community that has inspired, entertained, and shaped me for years! I hope that with time and practice, my writing will improve and I will be able to create work that you will all enjoy. Thank you so much for reading. Constructive criticism is always welcome, although please be kind.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or content of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

The smell of coffee immediately flooded your nostrils as you walked into the quaint corner coffee shop. It was a pleasant distraction from the stressful day you’d been having. You quickly walked up to counter and order a coffee to-go, having no time to savor the aesthetic of the cute little building as you normally would. The barista looked at you with a pitiful look in her eyes. Wow, your appearance must be worse than you thought. You reached your hand up to your head to attempt to tame the gnarled mess of hair that lied there.

Your documentary for your film class was due in 72 hours and it was still far from finished. While you had thought of the title, message, and overarching theme for the project, you still had not actually filmed the ending of it. You had raked through every street of New York, looking for something to spark your interest and drive the message of documentary home. So far, your luck had seemed to run dry.

Walking out of the coffee shop, you were met with a nice fall breeze. Pulling your camera bag over your shoulder, you continued your quest for viable content. As you walked down the street, you scanned the buildings and the people. You were desperate to find something to film. Mentally scolding yourself for procrastinating this project, you rounded the corner of a busy street, carefully observing the cars and people. As you walked past an alley, a stray dog curled up near a couple of trash cans caught your eye.

While you hesitated at filming the poor animal, showing the animal’s unfortunate situation would really drive the theme of your documentary home and could potentially bring about some change. You vowed internally to find the poor boy some food and hopefully a good home after you filmed him. As you entered the alley, you tried to coax the dog from its’ place near the trash cans. The pup uneasily got up and walked over to you, clearly hoping you had food to share. You raised your camera and began recording. The dog looked up at you with pleading eyes. It nearly brought tears to your eyes. If this would not change people’s mind about society’s downfall, you doubted anything you filmed could. You continued recording the dog’s behavior for a few moments. Just before you were about to press the end recording button on your video camera, you heard a loud crash coming from further into the alley and saw a blob of red and blue fall from the sky.

Now, normally you pride yourself on your street smarts. People had always told you to be careful living in New York. Your parents almost had not let you attend the New York Film Academy, but they had let you go on one condition: always be safe and smart. This is the exact reason you were scolding yourself in your head as you ventured deeper into the alley, most likely towards imminent danger.  

Holding up your camera, you kept walking into the alley, trying to be as quiet as possible. As you moved further into the alley, your eyes were met with the very bare, very muscular back of a boy only wearing boxers.

“Oh My God,” you gasped immediately, trying to avert your eyes from the boy’s naked back but failing miserably. The boy turned around quickly and met your eyes and camera lens with wide eyes. “Pretty brown eyes” was the first thought your brain could process. You mentally smacked yourself for this entire awkward situation you had gotten yourself into. You quickly pressed the end recording button, realising that you probably seemed super creepy for recording a nearly naked teen in a deserted alley.

“I’m so sorry. I just heard a crash come from back here and thought that...,” you rambled aimlessly before cutting yourself short. You immediately looked down at the ground, ashamed at yourself. While looking at the ground, you noticed a very familiar red and blue suit on the ground next to the boy. The boy could see the mental pieces coming together in your mind.

“Y-Y-You’re Spider-man?” you breathed, just loudly enough for the boy to hear you. The boy turned a billion different shades of red all at once. His eyes got so big, you worried they would fall out of his head.

“No! No, I’m not,” he quickly spat out. He knelt to the ground, trying to scoop the suit into his backpack. You could not believe what was happening before your eyes.

“You’re Spider-man!” you said, more confidently this time. The pieces were coming together in your head. You had always thought Spider-man was an adult. You never would have guessed that the masked hero would be a teen. He looked to be no older than 18 or 19. You imagined having that weight on your back as a college student. Protecting the city could not be an easy feat to accomplish, especially for someone so young. This boy clearly had a heart of gold.

“Listen, I know you did not ask to know any of this. I can’t believe how careless I was,” the boy finally admitted while throwing on clothes as fast as he could, “but I need for you to keep this a secret.” While you had been stuck in your head silently, the boy had moved closer to you and was staring at you intently, making sure you were going to comply. He was so close to you, you could feel his breath on your face.

You swallowed loudly. You were unsure if you could keep a secret of this magnitude. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to you. The way the boy was gazing at you was making you light-headed. You reached out for the nearest wall to support yourself.

The boy stepped forward to help steady you, realizing that you clearly were not handling this information as well as he would have hoped. He placed his hand lightly on your shoulder, a simple gesture of comfort. It made you feel better. After a few moments, your head had stopped spinning. You looked at the boy. His eyes were concerned and pleading at the same time. You knew what you were going to have to do.

“Okay, Spider-man. I will keep your secret,” you said with certainty. The words felt crazy coming out of your mouth. Seeing his sigh of relief made it worth it though. His body posture visibly changed and he seemed to almost relax.

“Thank you um...,” the boy paused and blushed as he realized he still did not know your name.

“Y/N,” you supplied for him quickly, smiling at his red cheeks.

“Yes, Y/N,” the boy replied. “I’m Peter. I guess it’s only right that you should know my name now that you know my biggest secret.” The boy chuckled lightly. His laugh might just be your new favorite sound. His eyes held a glimmer of humor in them. You felt your cheeks getting very hot all of the sudden.

“Very nice to meet you, Peter,” you said with a light laugh. “Although I cannot say it was under normal circumstances.”

“Not normal for sure,” he said while grinning, “but again, I’m sorry you got dragged into this. I know how much of a burden this secret is sometimes… and since you have it on film…. Speaking of that… um.”

The boy was stumbling for words, clearly frazzled. You gave him a confused look. He shot a look to your camera, still laying in your hand. It finally clicked in your head.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “I’m a film student and I was filming my documentary. I never was going to post the footage of you. I’ll delete it once I get to my computer.”

“Okay. I trust you, not that I really have a choice,” the boy laughed again. You could really get used to that sound. The boy looked around the alley, clearly searching for something to talk about. You wondered how someone so awkward could still be so cute at the same time.

“Well, Peter, I would love to keep chatting, but I have a huge project to edit and a really cute dog to find,” you said while placing your camera into its bag.

“A dog?” Peter asked, clearly confused but also intrigued. He had never met someone like you. You were almost as awkward as him!

“A stray dog,” you confirmed. “The little pup helped me out with my project, so I think it’s only right that I help him out with some food and try to find a home for the little guy.” You grinned at the thought of the little dog finding a home and a family to care for him.

Peter was in awe. Not only were you the cutest girl he had ever seen, you were also a dog-saving hero. He needed to spend more time with you.

“Maybe I can help you find the dog,” he spat out. You looked at him eagerly.

“Really?” you asked. “That would be such a help!” You smiled at him and he smiled back. His smile was making your stomach flip over itself.

“Yeah, well, I am spider-man after all,” Peter said. “It’s in the job description.” Peter grabbed your camera bag gently from your shoulder and swung it over his shoulder. You looked up at the sky. Had it always been so blue?

And with that, the two teens walked out of the alley together, calling and whistling for a cute stray dog and beginning something that would change both of their lives forever.

[restlessmelodrama]

Say I Never Mattered Chapter 1  *:･ﾟ✧

Steve Harrington x Y/N Henderson (Slowburn)

Warnings: Swearing (i guess), also… probably bad writing.

Chapter 1  / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 /

Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

Playlist

A/N:  Hi, you may have noticed, that this is a new account.

I’ve been on Tumblr for- who the fuck knows? Many years. I feel old.

I wrote some fanfics before, and a few people were reading it.

Then out of nowhere like every mentally-stable person would, I deleted everything and disappeared from the Internet for two years. But I’m back now, so hey!

I guess my writing isn’t that bad, so I hope you enjoy. xD

⟡ Tell me, if I should continue this series and leave some constructive criticism if you want to.

P.S: I’m not a native speaker, so sorry if I made any mistakes. 

There you were.

Walking down the rainy, cold streets of Hawkins, Indiana.

You had just left the modest road between Euclid and Monroe leading to a few gorgeous houses, with garages as big as your home and huge heated pools with jets. Upper-class shit.

It was shortly after eleven am on a Friday night in November and the poorly lit streets of Hawkins were deserted, as always right after nightfall. This town was the definition of a dump.

You were rummaging through your backpack, searching for your small mirror, in the need to check if black streaks of mascara were visible on your face. You had to look somewhat presentable since you still had to pick up your little brother from the Wheeler’s place.

You found it right when you turned onto Maple Street and tried to wipe away one of the destructions this night had left, with the right sleeve of your beloved jean jacket and buttoned it up to hide the rest of the visible embarrassment. Continuing to walk to the only house in the neighborhood with its lights still on.

You rang the doorbell and quickly walked the few steps, leading to the front door, back down. You were a little tipsy and did not wanna risk an argument with Mr. Wheeler about underaged drinking. If he couldn’t smell the alcohol he wouldn’t notice, since he barely even noticed your existence... or anyone’s as a matter of fact.

The light turned on and the door opened, revealing a pissed Ted Wheeler in a green tracksuit and Birkenstocks. His usual look.

“Hi, Mr. Wheeler. Sorry for the late disturbance, but I’m here to pick up my brother“, you said in the friendliest way possible.

He looked at you in confusion.

“Dustin Henderson“, you tried to help him.

Still no sign of enlightenment

“You know, wild curls, baseball cap, very annoying.“, you told him, nervously chuckling, hoping he would finally snap out of it.

“Oh yeah Justin“, he nodded.

“It’s Dus-“, you wanted to correct him, but you were interrupted.

“They’re in the basement. Can you go down there and get him? I’m watching the game.“, he asked with an annoyed undertone in his voice.

„Um- uh sure… I can go“, you stuttered.

This guy was unbelievable. Incredibly useless. A waste of space.

You never understood what Mrs. Wheeler saw in the man.

You took a deep breath and followed him inside. He pointed you towards the living room and disappeared into their kitchen.

You shook your head in disbelief, walking through the Wheeler home. It was already decorated for Christmas.

You always admired Mrs. Wheeler’s assertiveness to turn their place into a Winter Wonderland although her family hated it. Everywhere you looked were little ornaments, fairy lights or other decorations.

It made you think of decorating the tree with your mom and your brother. A very distant but happy memory.

You were about to open the door to the basement when Mr. Wheeler called after you.

“Hey, Henderson, hold up! One question.“

“Yes?“ You asked, turning around after rolling your eyes, wondering what the hell he could possibly want, certain that he had called you by your last name because he couldn’t remember your first.

“Is there a chance you have seen my daughter, Nancy anywhere?“, he wanted to know, really pushing his parental might, as he was staring you down.

He clearly thought he was an authority figure to you, which was so far off, that it was kind of funny. Especially in your tipsy state of mind.

“No… I’m afraid I haven’t.”, you responded, biting back your laughter.

“Aren’t you two always out together?“, he wanted to know next, crossing his arms over his chest.

What world was this guy living in?

“Yes, that would be true if we were still in middle school exchanging our lunch boxes, Mr. Wheeler.

We barely talk now.“ you declared, sighing.

“Oh, okay”, he said, already having lost interest in what you were telling him.

You gave him a sarcastic smile, that you normally used when you were about to flip somebody off and turned around, stepping into the basement and leaving the ignorant man behind. You kept standing on top of the staircase for a few seconds, attempting to calm yourself down, but were interrupted by Max sighing in relief,

“Shit, Y/ N! You scared me. I thought you were my brother.“, she blurted out.

“Oh, sorry to disappoint, but I believe my hairdo isn’t a mullet, looking like I planted some roadkill on my head. Also, my jeans are just not that tight“, you joked, the kids erupting into laughter and earning yourself a high-five from Lucas.

“You’re good for tonight, though.“, you said reaching into your pocket to reveal a set of keys. You tossed them over to Max, who had a look on her face like she had just won the lottery, as soon as she realized who they belonged to.

“You took his keys?“, she asked, her eyes growing wide, a huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, he tried to drive home shitfaced, so I thought I’d do everyone else on planet earth a favor and take them. Well, except for Harrington, because Billy totally crashed in the shed in his backyard.“, you explained planting yourself on the couch next to Mike, digging into the bag of tortilla chips and stuffing a few in your mouth.

You tried not to think about it too much but your heart began to hurt when his name left your lips. You didn’t know what to think. That night had been messy and ugly and heartbreaking.

“You definitely saved my ass. Thanks, Y/N!“, Max interrupted your thoughts again.

You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the feeling of it closing up,

“Anytime, California.“, you smiled.

The party had been playing DnD, all day and they begged you to let them finish the game, stating it would only take a few more minutes.

Almost an hour later, they had finally lost and your brother was displeased enough to be willing to leave since he was a sore loser.

You quickly said your goodbyes and left through the back door.

“Where’s the car?“ Dustin asked when you reached the front of the house.

He seemed pretty drained all of a sudden.

“I had something to drink, tonight, so no driving for me, sorry. 

Also, dad needed my car earlier today“, you brought up as casual as possible, trying to make it seem harmless.

Dustin sighed, rolling his eyes, “He took off again. Didn’t he?“

“No, Dusty, I’m sure he will be home by tomorrow.“, you lied once more, giving him a hopefull smile.

“You know that’s utter bullshit.“, he hissed, kicking the ground in frustration.

Bullshit, it was like the fucking word was haunting you. Tonight it kept growing, tougher and meaner.

“We both know that it’s not likely that we will see him or your car anytime soon. You can stop pretending, Y/N. I’m not a little kid. I know what’s going on.“, he exclaimed clearly angry.

He didn’t know what was going on. Not all of it, and you were very thankful for that.

But he was right, he wasn’t little anymore. You still hoped you could give him the kind of childhood, you weren’t allowed to have. You felt the tears build up again, but you were able to hold them back. You didn’t want Dustin to feel even worse just because you were tipsy and emotional.

“You’re right“, you gave him a sad smile, 

“But you’re also not grown up yet and you already have enough on your plate, Dusty.“, you said, feeling a little overwhelmed as your vision began to blur.

He must have seen the tears in your eyes and your exhausted posture because he immediately gave up on reasoning with you.

Both of you fell into silence for a  few minutes. Your brother was staring at the ground and dragging his feet.

You bit your lip. You hated when things were that way between you.

You moved a bit closer to him and slightly pushed his side with your elbow.

“How about some fries and a milkshake?“, you asked trying to get him to talk to you again. You couldn’t bear that silence.

He looked at you with furrowed brows and a scrunched up nose, “It’s almost 1am.“

“All right grandpa!“, you teased him, “If you’d rather go home to stare at our empty fridge, we’ll do that.“ 

“Oh, hell no! Let’s go to Benny’s Burgers. They are open all night on Fridays.“, he chuckled almost sounding offended.

You smiled, putting an arm around the boy's shoulders, turning the corner to Randolph Lane.

“Y/N? One more thing…“, he asked stopping in his tracks, looking serious all of a sudden.

“What is it?“, you asked, squinting your eyes a little.

“You’re paying right?“, he grinned.

And you let out heartfelt laughter.

“Oh no Mister, since you don’t want to be treated like a little kid anymore, I think you’re going to pay for yourself. Welcome to adulthood, brother.“ You told him still laughing and obviously thinking he would get the joke, but he didn’t.

“Oh, come on Y/N, I-“, he began to argue.

The rest of his sentence was swallowed by the sound of your heart beating so loud, you thought it would hop right out of your chest, any second. Excruciating pain was moving through your entire body, as you stared at the dark-red BMW parked in front of the restaurant.

You felt a cold shiver run down your back and your throat was starting to hurt again.

Tonight the odds really weren’t in your favor.

“Cool, Steve is here! Maybe he can drive us home later.“, Dustin exclaimed, excitedly.

“Yeah, Maybe“, you whispered, not wanting to alert your brother.

You were walking, a few hesitant steps behind Dustin, your mind telling you to run in the other direction and not stop until you were out of this fucking town leaving behind everything. Your family, your responsibilities and him. Especially him.

Fuck.

[wrasslegrrl-blog]

Post Match Pint (Part One)

Note: So I wanted to attempt a BSS fanfic, so here’s the result! Constructive criticism welcome! :) This is Part One of what I hope will be a longer series. Hoping to add smut later on if there is enough interest. Pairing: Reader/ Pete Dunne/ Tyler Bate/ Trent Seven This is set just after the WWE UK Championship Tournament, when Tyler is still UK Champion.  P.s. I did my best to write the canon version of the guys, so this is kayfabe, not how they are in in real life.

You glanced up from your place in the queue. A few metres away, you could see a table covered with hoodies, t-shirts and posters and just behind that, the trio whose faces were plastered all over the merch. You shifted nervously from one foot to the other as you inched closer to the front of the queue. You'd just watched Trent Seven, Tyler Bate and Pete Dunne team up in a six man match – it was the first time you'd seen them live. You'd been a big fan of BSS for a while now, watching a lot of their matches online and when you heard they were finally coming to your home town, you grabbed the chance to buy a ticket and see them in person. And now here you were, just a few paces away.

'Yeah?'

A Brummy voice suddenly called from the merch stand, rousing you from your thoughts. Looking up, you realized the voice belonged to Pete Dunne. Your cheeks suddenly burned hot, as you stepped forward. You internally cursed as all the witty conversation starters you'd planned during your time in the queue escaped you; your crush was getting the better of you. Although you'd never admitted it to anyone, you'd always had a guilty crush on Pete Dunne – all the members of BSS were attractive in their own way, but there was something about Pete's smugness that was appealing. And now, here he was and you were tongue tied.

Pete glanced up from the table, with a dead pan expression. He looked extra handsome tonight. He'd since changed out of his ring gear and was now wearing a camel topcoat over a white button up shirt and had his hair pushed back. Clearing your throat, you realized a few moments had passed and nothing had been said.

'Hey. I'll, uh, take that one please.' You managed, pointing at a BSS tee. Pete nodded wordlessly, turning around to reach for it. Your stomach still a bundle of nerves and excitement, you realized this wasn’t the encounter you'd hoped for. Maybe the old saying about never meeting your heroes was right. Looking to your right, you could see Tyler laughing and leaning into a selfie with some female fans. His WWE UK Championship was proudly slung over one shoulder, glinting beautifully in the lighting of the venue. A little further, Trent was chatting away and shaking the hand of a guy wearing a BSS cap.

The scene filled you with doubt. Everyone else seemed to be having a great time meeting the lads. Why was Pete so cold? Was he always like this? Was it you? He passed over the shirt as you handed him the cash.

'Thanks.' You smiled, holding your new tee. 'You guys were great, by the way. You really stole the show with your finisher.'

'Always do.' Pete shrugged, without so much as a glance at you. Heart pounding and a lead weight in your stomach, you turned to leave, realizing the conversation was going nowhere. A hand clapped down on Pete's shoulder and a warm voice called to you,  

'You local Bab? Know any good spots around here?'

You looked over your shoulder. Trent Seven was beaming over at you. He was standing behind Pete, who now scowled at the hand on his shoulder.

'Uh, actually yeah.' You'd never been a party animal but knew a few decent bars nearby. 'There's a place just round the corner.'

Trent clapped his hands together. 'Time to pack up, lads. I think a post match pint's in order!' Tyler shot a smile over at Trent, before beginning to pack the last of the merch into boxes. Pete rolled his eyes but begrudgingly began to help. Realizing this was probably your queue to leave, you turned to leave again, only to have a hand clamp down your shoulder.

'Oi Bab, where'd you think you’re going? We need our tour guide!' Trent raised an eyebrow as he smiled down at you.

'I wasn't sure...' You managed, your mouth dry with nerves. Head swimming, you asked yourself if this was real. Just a few hours ago Trent Seven had only ever been pixels on a screen and now he was asking you for a pint?

Trent must have picked up on your nerves, because his expression and tone quickly softened. 'There's a group of us going', he gestured over to a gaggle of people a few feet away, made up of a handful of wrestlers and ring crew. 'You're more than welcome to join.'

Taking a deep breath, you fought against your nerves and nodded. When would you get this opportunity again?

'I'd like that.' You answered, in what you hoped was your smoothest voice. A smile spread across Trent's face, before he called to the others that it was time to head out. Your group milled out of the venue, with you leading the way, Trent (who was chatting away to the others) and tailed by a scowling Pete.

After a few minutes Tyler had caught up with you, ahead of the crowd. 

'Evening.'

He nodded over to you, twirling his mustache. 'So what fine establishment will you be taking us to this evening?'

'Fine establishment? Jeez, no pressure!' You chuckled, feeling lighter already. 'There's a nice bar close by. Good selection of beers and music. There's a dance floor too. I'm not a big dancer though.'

'We'll soon sort that out.' Tyler winked, a glint in his eye.

[xfilesnews]

FanWorks Wednesdays - crossedbeams

by Keva Andersen

After a short hiatus, we’re back with our author profile series! Meet @crossedbeams. She’s a relative newcomer to the fandom and found her way to The X-Files in a way that’s a little different than most. But despite only meeting Mulder and Scully a short time ago, she’s taken to the characters like an author who’s been with them for years.

Take some time and read through crossedbeams’ collection of “MSR Moments,” a collection of ficlets and prompts that are fun snapshots of Mulder and Scully’s day-to-day life. With a little angst thrown in too, of course. If AU’s are your thing I highly recommend “One Week at Quantico.” The story looks at what might have been had Mulder been teaching at the Academy while Scully was there. Jump in for this line: “But for the sake of argument, quantum physics doesn’t actually rule out time travel” and stay for the rest of the story! And if, like me, you’re looking for a great post-revival kick in the feels check out “Lost Letters.” The story explores how Mulder and Scully deal with Maggie Scully’s death in a world where “Babylon” and “My Struggle II” don’t exist.

We talked with crossedbeams about writing, inspiration, and of course The X-Files.

How long have you been a Phile?

I'm pretty new! I think I watched my first ever episode in November 2015, I completed my first watch through two days before the revival started and I joined the online fandom a year ago! I came at it all kinda backwards... I'm a massive theatre nerd who missed the London run of “Streetcar” (my favourite play) thank to illness, and had never quite gotten over it! The NY show announced summer of 15 and I'd already decided I was going, hell or high water. Then when I was reading about the production it mentioned that “Blanche” was in The Fall, I'd only seen Ep.1 so I got hooked on that, figured I'd see what else Gillian had done, saw The X-Files, I only knew it was one of those cult shows I'd missed thanks to my TV-less childhood and so I figured I'd give it a go... little I knew!

What was your first episode?

The pilot! I'm a completist to a boring level, chronology is my jam (which makes late season mythology suuuper fun!). I think I actually saw the pilot three times before I made it further, once with my sister who wasn't interested, once when I was so tired I couldn't remember what happened and then finally the day I watched most of S1 in one hit. Whoops!

How long have you been writing fic?

According to my blog I posted my first drabble on March 28th, 2016! So almost a year, which seems both way too long (I still feel like a desperate newbie) and not long enough.

What inspired you to start writing?

I've always been a reader, no TV as a kid = loaded bookshelves, my family are wordy, my degree is in English literature and I work with books, so words are my most constant companion. I've always liked to write, the process of catching an idea or a sensation just perfectly in a sentence is on of the most satisfying things I can think of, but while I was at Uni, it was like a switch flicked in my head. I think it was perhaps the first time in my life I was truly unhappy for more than a few hours, and also the first time I didn't have anyone to talk to that I trusted. I became very isolated, shut myself in my room a lot and all the words that used to be my friends where just fighting in my head, angry or sad or whatever, the noise was endless. And on day I just snatched up my laptop and started writing. I don't even remember what, probably some self-pitying explosion of adjectives, and for a little while I felt better. I wrote a lot of poetry, essays and journaled while I was at uni, my only attempt at stories was curtailed by a creative writing tutor who I despised, but in one form or another I've been writing ever since.

Who is your favorite XF character to write?

Originally it was Scully, I tend to gravitate to female voices and hers is the kind of awesome, no-nonsense, bad ass lady voice I wish I had, but lately Mulder has crept in and I honestly enjoy writing both their perspectives equally, though Scully still comes a little more easily. “Quantico” was the first time I feel like I successfully pulled off a split narrative between the two and kept both their characters completely clear. My absolute favourite thing to write though are the bits in between the characters, the omniscient narrator parts where you get to dig into your vocab to try and describe succinctly the emotional impact of a word, or the desperation of their need etc. But that's not really a character so... Scully!

Are there any XF characters you dislike or find too difficult to write?

Besides Mulder and Scully, I've only ever tried to write Maggie, and that was in letter format which is kind of a cheat, so I don't feel like I've necessarily got enough experience to answer this well. I'm pretty good at writing within a brief, so I'm not adverse to writing anyone, I just don't have any ideas for most of them! I suppose Reyes appeals to me the least, just because I don't feel like I ever properly connected to her or understood her true purpose in TXF universe (especially post-revival). I don't dislike her at all, I just don't get her and so likely couldn't do her justice.

Is there a story you're most proud of or that's a favorite?

I think “Quantico” will always be special because it took me by surprise; it was the little request drabble that grew and I am still overwhelmed by people's response to it... but.. “Trinity” is my baby, and also my great shame, because it's been a WIP for way too long and I'm still dithering. I'm proud of it because it's the biggest risk I've taken in my writing; my first proper case file and my first attempt at crossover. Writing Scully, Stella Gibson, and Blanche Dubois into one canon compliant universe is possibly the stupidest idea I have ever run with, but so far it has paid off and the feedback from those prepared to risk it has been phenomenal. I love writing Blanche, Stella fights me and Scully is my safe place but the mental process of characterizing that story, advancing that plot, is the most satisfying, terrifying, exhausting writing I've ever done. And I desperately need to get on with it.

Where can people find your work, and what's the best way to send feedback?

I have a master list that I update regularly on my blog header and I'm also on AO3 as crossedbeams and everything is indexed there too. Feedback can be via tumblr message, comment or ask, AO3 comment or people can email crossedbeamsfic@gmail.com I'm still amazed that people read what I write so any feedback is the cherry on top! I'm also good with constructive criticism, I'm still new and learning after all.

Do you take fic prompts from fans?

Yes, though it can take a while. There are guidelines to what I will/won't write on the Request A Fic tab on my blog, and a disclaimer too! But I'm always open to discuss it.

Have you written your own original characters outside of fandom?

Yes. I have a few unfinished short stories, a couple of finished ones, and in my previous incarnation on tumblr I wrote a pretty long, often terrible, series that covered several generations of a cast of original characters!

Anything you’d like to share about your writing process?

I'm kind of a messy writer. I write mostly in long sittings and the words just come. Most of my favourite drabbles have been written in a single sitting and posted when the last full stop drops. (Hence the typos in early reblogs!) I find this stops me over working the prose and getting too verbose but it does also backfire at times. I find it much harder to write longer form pieces, because my writing is often emotion driven. There was a six week gap between most of “Quantico” and the final two chapters, a four week gap between parts 3 and 4 of “Close”  partly because I put immense pressure on myself to "finish things well" but also because emotionally I couldn't find the right groove. “Quantico” began in a fluffy, happy place where I was optimistic and not in my head, “Close”… I think I was tipsy and had come in from a date! Trying to finish those fics as they deserved to be finished when a week later I was miserable and self-flagellating, or feeling decidedly unsexy felt almost impossible. I often wish my process were more considered and structured, that I could sit and get down a couple hundred words and edit it better later, but my mind just doesn't work that way, and I've learned that I can't force it to.

Do you have a favorite author? (fanfic or published!)

Only about 9000000! Fic wise, @somekindofseizure on tumblr has a gorgeous way with words I envy and aspire to. I could list so many more but I'll only leave people out so I'll just say that if you check my ficrecs tag you'll find so many people, many of whom I'm lucky enough to count as friends, who do so many things so well. Some of them are plot beasts, others ruin me with beautiful language and some are just steam queens.

My favourite print authors are probably Ngugi, John Burnside, LM Montgomery, Roald Dahl, Alice Hoffman and Oscar Wilde.

Is there any advice you'd give to aspiring writers?

Just do it. Keep doing it. Until you've actually scribbled or typed something down it's only ever an idea. Even if you hate it, keep it, try again. You can't get better at something you're not actually doing and thinking your ideas til you're blue in the face doesn't count! Read, learn what you like and don't, be inspired. Keep writing. And don't compare your work to the work of others, you'll never match "their voice" so don't try. Mark yourself against yourself, if you capture something better every time you sit down and write, you're headed the right way. Just do you, do it regularly, ask for help, and keep going!

Anything else you'd like to share that I missed?

I'd just like to say thank you for asking me to participate, I'm still finding my feet in this strange new fandom place and I am so very grateful to you for asking, to all those who read my writing and to everyone who has embraced me and made this such a great year, I've been a fangirl of many things, but it's my first time as part of a family and it's been such a lifeline.

Thank you so much to crossedbeams for talking with us! We’re always looking for authors both new and old favorites, so if you have suggestions please message us here, hit us up on twitter or facebook.

[bekasyura]

ALL NUMBERS BC GO BIG OR GO HOME

Alright time to procrastinate by answering all these fanfic questions. They’re all under the cut

1. What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?

Based on the first one that’s on my surviving ffnet, it was dramione and no I could not stand reading it today for certain reasons I don’t want to discuss.

2. What’s your most recent fic and how far do you think you’ve come?

My most recent is The Sn Sets deals with grief and mourning after a canonical character death which is not something I write often. I think the emotions in it could have been better but I’m still satisfied with how it turned out. I think I’m at a place in my writing where I can attempt fics with that kind of emotional level.

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

I have no opinion on this but my best friend and brother say “Covered in my Art”

4. In your opinion and without looking at any numbers, what’s your most popular fic?

Well, I only have 2 actual popular fics so I easily remember them. My most popular is my victuuri post-episode 7 kiss fic. I posted it just a couple of days after that episode aired so naturally it shot up.

5. Is there any fic that makes you super happy to reread and remember you wrote that?

I hardly reread my fics. I just can’t bring myself to do it. But one that I’m happy I wrote is 

6. Is there any fic that makes you super embarrassed to reread and remember you wrote that?

I get embarrassed reading them all. 

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

I am looking forward to continuing my Living Legends series (YOI Tattoo Shop AU)

8. What’s the oldest (longest since last update) fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

My Star Wars Mummy AU. It’s been almost a year now and I still have all my notes and outline for it. I just need motivation.....

9. Have you ever written for a fandom without watching/reading/playing the source material?

Nope. I’m picky about what I write about and it has to be something I’m really into in order for me to watch it. 

10. Have you ever written for a fandom without reading other fanfic for it?

I’m picky for what I read as well so if I’m writing for it, I’m most likely reading it as well. 

11. Have you ever written a fic for a concept you know someone else has done before? How did it impact your writing process or feelings after posting?

Well there’s always writing popular tropes that everyone does but what comes to mind first is my Mummy AU. It was my idea first but someone got inspired by my editset I made of it and before I could post my first chapter of the story, someone else did it. They finished the fic before I could get my done and so it made me lose interest in continuing mine even if there were enough differences between ours. 

12. Have you ever written a fic and decided never to publish it? Why?

I’ll have a bunch of ideas I start and never finish for various reasons. But I pretty much publish everything I write.

13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?

Besides the fact that I don’t suck as much as I did 13 years ago? I’m still working on it but I feel like I’m able to set a scene better with description and narration has gotten better. 

14. What’s the biggest change in your taste between when you started in fandom and today?

Don’t know if this answers the question but I guess sticking to what I like and not conforming to the popular ideas of how certain characters/ships should be written. 

15. Have you ever purposefully written one fandom/fic idea over another because you knew it’d be more popular?

*stares at victuuri post episode 7 kiss fic* 

16. Have you ever stopped writing a fic/for a fandom because it wasn’t receiving enough attention?

That might be one reason I stopped writing Marvel fics

17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?

Honestly, “Closer”. Don’t get me wrong, I really like the fic even if I haven’t read it since I posted it, but I don’t know if it’s good for all the kits and kudos it’s gotten.

18. What’s your most underrated fic?

Any femslash or polyship fic or rarepair fic

19. If you had to pick one fic/scene/chapter of your work to describe your entire portfolio to a stranger, which would you pick?

Oh shit um....

20. Have/Would you ever rewrite a fic? If yes, would you take the original down?

I have considered it for two Merlin fics and I would do it in a heartbeat if I could but since they’re part of big bangs I can’t.

21. If someone starts kudosing and commenting your fics in a spree and has a few works of their own, would you go look through theirs?

Yeah I sometimes do

22. Has there ever been anyone who’s made you freak out because they read your work and followed/favorited/reviewed?

People would actually have to read my works first. I just get excited to have anyone reading my stuff tbh

23. What’s the nicest review you’ve ever gotten?

Most are on my “Not ‘He’” fic with readers sharing their experiences with me in relation to my fic. It was an amazing feeling to see that my fic connected with people on such a personal level like that.

24. What’s the meanest review you’ve ever gotten? Do you think the reviewer intended it?

I’ve gotten some kind of rude ones that were too pushy for updates but one that sticks out was just someone going off on their own rant about gender identities on the above mentioned fic. I don’t think they intended to come off as bad as it sounded but it wasn’t fun to read nonetheless. 

25. What constructive criticism, however well-meaning, always makes you feel bad when you see it in a review?

Mostly dealing with simple grammar mistakes because that’s stuff I should know but still always forget.

26. What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised?

Characterization because no one wants to read a fic where the characters are so ooc it takes them out of it. So being able to capture the character, especially in an AU, is the best thing to hear.

27. If you could only ever write crossovers or single-fandom fics ever again, which would you pick?

Single fandom fics. I don’t really do crossovers.

28. If you could only ever write for a single crossover or a single fandom again, which would you pick? 

Yuri!!! on Ice. I honestly have plenty of ideas to keep me going. 

29. Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?

((skipping))

30. Do you continue to write for a fandom after you’ve moved on or do you focus solely on the new one?

If you looked at my AO3 chronologically, you will see where I stop and start a new fandom. But there are some fandoms I will write at the same time. But there will be a focus on the new one. 

31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?

I feel like it’s Clint Barton despite how much I love him. I think it’s because of that I feel like I can’t write him well.

32. Who’s the one character who shines without you even trying?

I feel like I have Yuri Plisetsky down pretty well.

33. Is there any particular character whose scenes always wind up being longer/more frequent than you expected? Does the quality hold up?

It really depends on the fic and what I’m writing. Some characters may steal the scene but it usually turns out well. 

34. Was there any fic that you wrote that really surprised you in the fandom reaction? Was it just by the numbers or did they take it an entirely different way?

I was surprised to see so many people interested in “Covered in my Art”. AUs can be hard to sell and while it’s not the most popular tattoo shop au, it still got a better response than expected. 

35. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?

I accidentally wrote past Yuuri/Phichit in my recent Phichit/Leo/Guang-Hong fic. I guess that hc is so set in my mind I can’t help but write it lol

36. Have you ever sincerely written a ship you do not support into a fic?

Yes but it was a commission fic so I kinda had to

37. Have you ever purposefully bashed a character/ship in a fic?

Regrettably in the past when I was younger and didn’t know better. But I have learned from that.

38. Have you ever purposefully written something you know your readers would find uncomfortable/would not enjoy? If yes, why?

Besides like injuries, not really. 

39. Do you consider yourself to have a readership?

I know I can count on like 3 people to read my fics and they’re the best peeps ever.

40. Do you feel like you put out enough content?

I do now after going so many years hardly writing anything. I still feel like I could do more.

41. If you cross-post your fics on multiple sites, do you have a favorite? Are there certain fics you would only post on certain site?

I mostly post on AO3 but I’m slowly adding my fics back to ffnet just to have them hosted in two places. I definitely prefer AO3 because I love the tagging system. 

42. How many views has your most popular fic gotten?

7k and I know it’ll be the only one

43. Your least popular?

less than 50

44. Do you follow/favorite/kudos/comment/review more stories than you have received?

Yes because I try to kudos and comment on anything I read that I liked. 

45. If you had to call yourself an author of a single genre (besides fanfic) what label would you give yourself?

Fluff. It’s a genre now.

46. Do you consider yourself a diverse author?

I would like to be but probably not. 

47. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

No. While I have no problem telling people I write fanfic now, I don’t want them reading my writing. 

48. Does anyone you know from outside of fandom know you write fanfic? Are they involved in the same fandom too?

Not really. I don’t just walk around telling everyone I write it. It still has to be brought up and I feel comfortable telling them. 

49. Has anyone in your life ever read your fanfic just because you wrote it?

Yes because I make my best friend read it.

50. Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

I’ve literally been writing fanfic for half my life now so it’s definitely had a significant impact on me. For the most part it has been positive. It’s given me a way to express myself and make my voice be heard. There have been times it stresses me out and I feel anxious about it but I wouldn’t stop writing because of that.

[technicallyoneofakind]

Nymph Hugs

Authors Note:

Heyo! It's Yuni! Been a bit since I last updated or posted anything on the site. (Sorry those of you who read Greedy Souls, I haven't gotten back to it… I feel like if I continue I would write myself into a corner and ruin the fic. Hehe.)

I decided to write about Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch. I decided to write about Swaine. I like Swaine. I felt bad for him when I ran into him in game. I played blindly so his introduction in the game came quite surprisingly.

I wondered what he did in the days he "wondered off" after the events involving Vileheart. Oh yes, there are slight spoilers. Forgot to mention.

This is actually inspired by Wherever Girl's "Like a Brother" fic.

Leave feedback. If you don't like something, be sure to leave constructive criticism. I apologize in advance for any OOC-ness- especially anything to do with Swaine as he's the hardest to nail down, characterwise. People who use this as an excuse to insult and harass will be reported.

Anywho. Here's the fic.

Disclaimer: I only own a copy of the disk for the PS3.

~.~.~

He couldn't describe the despair he felt. He couldn't explain why he felt it either. It reminded him of when the three had gone to the past- the scene he had not experienced as a child. The scene that completely blindsided him and sent him into an abyss of grief for the next week after. Difference was, he knew deep down that there was at least a chance his friend could come back.

It wasn't much to go on…

In the boy's current comatose state, he might as well be dead. And if he didn't wake up soon…

The thief slammed his palm into the nearby hill, bracing himself against it as this grim realization hit him. Normally, there would be some sort of remedy to wake him… The rugged man opened his tired eyes, a hint of a smile of that small hopeful thought.

But they had tried everything. Reminding himself of this, his smile sank again, right along with his heart. It's not like the boy was "broken-hearted"… But then again, what would happen if more than one piece was missing? Who would repair him? How would they know what part to fix in his condition? The man clenched his fist, his gunslinging hand grabbing a fist full of grass, pulling a couple of blades out of the mountainside.

Maybe my brother…? Could he help him? The thief thought, his hands beginning to tremble from the sheer stress of it all. Damn it all… Outside the fairy, I'm responsible for those two. I should be able to do something! Anything! Anything to help… He pushed himself away from the hill, but not far. He looked out to the valley that gave Autumnia its name.

He had come out here to think. In times of major stress such as this, he found it better to be alone. The thief was sure Esther had already called him out on his disappearance to the loudmouth fairy. She probably thought he didn't care- an all too wrong assumption. The ex-prince cared more than he let on. The truth is, being around the young wizard in his current state did nothing but remind him of his failure, which only stressed him more. That's why he was away from the inn. Swaine knew if he stuck around, tension would build, and his emotions would get the best of him. He tended to get rather stubborn and irrational in that state, which didn't help anyone.

There were many times where the thief was the last one standing. There wasn't enough time during those types of fights to revive the other two. When the time came, the least heroic of the group was the one that pulled them through. He let a small chuckle escape him, thinking on it. The scrappy Dumbelemur turned Aye-Aye Sir, Vemahl, put up a good fight most of the time. To Swaine's chagrin, Oliver wanted to try something different with his team of familiars, putting Gunther into the retreat for safe keeping. Thinking more about it, he realized part of the reason he lasted so long in battle may have partially been because of Gemini, the Greater Naiad, and her well-timed evasion.

This was a different case altogether, though. This wasn't a fight against wild creatures. This wasn't the case of fighting on behalf of his friends. The pure-hearted one was in a state where even the distilled tears of a phoenix could wake him. The thief thought of asking his brother, but he had a feeling that he couldn't help and leaving to ask him would mean leaving alone, the Al Mamoon girl and Drippy looking after Oliver.

He knew that wasn't a good idea. He had a gut feeling that his younger brother wouldn't be able to help- having lived on the run as a common criminal helped develop a strong trust in his instincts.

He couldn't do anything, he realized. He couldn't return the favor when the time came. He couldn't help the boy that had saved him from a perilous life. He felt his strength leave him, his helplessness in the situation weighing him down. Feeling defeated, he sat down, leaning his back against the offended hill. He looked to the sky, a hand on one knee the other on the ground beside him.

A tear ran down the left side of his face- an action that shocked him. He hadn't cried since that night in Hamelin. He wiped the tear from his face, with the hand that was on the ground and stared at it. He closed his eyes, his body trembling. He felt alone.

There was a tug on his jacket sleeve. He opened his eyes and looked down to see the Greater Naiad in his regime of familiars. She didn't have her usual smile on her face, in fact, she looked rather concerned.

He sniffled. "Wh- What do you want," he whispered, his voice shaking. He didn't remember calling her to action nor did he feel her come out. He must have been pretty distracted.

She let the casting gem she held disappear into her and moved closer to him. The little sea nymph gripped his shirt in an attempt at a hug. Gemini's fluffy bauble gently rubbed his chin as she nuzzled his chest. Her cape and tendrils spread to compensate for her small size.

Swaine opened his mouth in shock, looking down at her attempt in comforting him. Nymphea wasn't a particular favorite genus of his, he recalled, but he also remembered using this particular nymph often in battle. He had unintentionally built a strong bond with her.

It reminded him of his brother, almost. There were times when they were kids that Marcassin would comfort him when he was troubled. Kind of like this, actually, the ex-thief thought.

He felt his shirt dampen suddenly, causing him to look down. Gemini was crying for him, attempting to use a healing ability she had long since abandoned. Despite how odd it felt, he felt some of his frustration leave him. He didn't know if it was because of the ability- it shouldn't have worked considering that he wasn't wounded- or because he had something comforting in a such a trying time.

"You're right…," he muttered, petting the familiar. "There's nothing I can do." He was still frustrated and confused, but less of a mess. He stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes and took a second to look back out at the valley. His spirits were low still, but the worst of the emotional turmoil was over. Going back there won't snap him out of it… He looked back at the still concerned Greater Naiad. But crying over something I can't help? Ha! What good will that do?

He threw a sad smirk Gemini's way and her smile quickly returned, her gem reappearing in her small stubby arms. "Thank you. Needed some relief, I did." He knelt down, stroking the feathery bauble on the nymph's cap. The nymph nodded and returned to his heart, a warm feeling washing over him briefly.

He sighed and put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. He still felt useless, he still felt frustrated. He still felt despair. But he had regained the strength of heart he had recently lost. "Familiars are still creatures with separate feelings from our own. Why do I forget that so easily?"

~.~.~

A/N: Before most of your familiars become your familiars, they are considered beasts. They have feelings, personalities, and histories before they join your team, much like the human members of your party. There's a cave outside of Nazcaa that proves this because there's a bunch of "friendly" beasts that you can go on unofficial quests for, including one of my favorite species line: the naiads. When you consider the way they act in the creature cage, even as familiars, they're still partially separate when it comes to personality and mindset.

Yeah. I switched out Swaine's main one with the lemur. I was experimenting with his set up. He really likes using the nymph, though. It's weird since Gem's not in his "favorite" genus group… I tend to ignore the whole favorite type thing in the game sometimes, though I probably shouldn't. Greater Naiad's are evasive healer types with light magic attacks. I noticed that when I removed Gemini from his team, he seemed to faint more, so it makes me wonder if the ally AI selects the most strategically sound familiar at the time. (In the winter islands, Esther busted out Soliton, the Grandsun, because he had fire affinity.) Most of the time evading and healing is pretty sound strategy and it would explain why sometimes he's the last up to bat.

Outside game mechanics, considering how much he uses Gemini in my version of the game, I always wondered if there's some sort of familiarity between him and the jellyfish. Maybe it reminds him of his brother.

And yes… I do assign genders to my familiars. And now that I really think about it, outside of the undetermined gender of a few, most of my mains are male. I don't know how that happened.

This is a long author's note… Might write another fanfic inspired by a movie I watched recently. Considering how the thief closes himself off, it makes me wonder if there are talents he neglected to mention outright. *Hint, hint*

Anyway. I'm done writing half a page for one lousy author's note. No doubt you've clicked on another story by now. (Might make this a drabble fic named after the first chapter… Watch out.) You're probably bored of me talking. Bye.