#also when i wrote those tags it was like 1am my time or something and i was so delirious with happiness

[lovethroughdelusions]

Hi i loved your tags about your whale familiar so much that i doodled this on my notes app. I couldn't remember what a whale looked like, so for some reason i decided to just copy my build-a-bear shark week plush, and you know as i type this I'm thinking maybe i shouldn't have drawn your whale familiar as a whale shark (as interpreted by build-a-bear) but here u go. Also i used your icon to draw u so if your icon is a meme... Whoops

HDIISJEBHUS I love this so much!!!! Thank you thank you thank you thank you ❤️❤️

(and my pfp is me lol it's a few years out dated but still fairly accurate.)

[whalyrae]

THE OLD GUARD - CHAPTER 3

"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."

Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.

Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)

Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 4.5K

Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm, and more.

Tag list : @blackrockshooter780 @babyymeme @starrlo0ver @suckerforv @mushroom-main @m1sss1mp @prettydancingdamzel @i-have-no-life-charlie @avadakadabra93 @veronawrites @kawaiikpoplover268 @didi-9310 @ghostlyworld @carolinexkpop @gooooomz @00ihatesnaku

A/N : HEY YO I'M BACK !! Okay, I'm really sorry it took so long to publish the chapter... my exams, and after that I took a long rest because I travel in Spain and then in Paris during a whole month ! So as an apologize, this chapter is hella long I think it's the longest I've ever wrote in my life jfdkljgfk... I hope you'll like it !

Feel free to comment or send me a message (anonymously or not!) and give me your reactions, your impressions, your questions… I don't mind at all, on the contrary!

In the next chapters, there will be revelations, and answers to questions hehe so please don't hate me too much…!

A BIG THANK YOU again for all these views, I thought that by being absent for so long, my writings would be forgotten … but not at all!

Enjoy your reading, and thanks again, take care, I love you ♥

OH BY THE WAY !! I made a spotify playlist ! If you have any songs who made you think about the story, you can share it to me and I'll add it on the playlist !

Here is the link : The Old Guard Playlist

ps : sorry for the mistakes, it's already 1am here, but I really REALLY need to post something..... ENJOY :D

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 2 // Chapter 4

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

“I did it! I beat Ganon! Did you see, Jimin ?”

Jungkook put down his controller next to him on the couch, raising his arms with a big smile. Beside him, Jimin didn't seem to pay attention to him. His eyes focused on his cell phone. 

Jungkook frowned, and turned to Taehyung, sitting on his right. 

"Taehyung, Taehyung! Look!!!"

But he noticed that Taehyung also seemed lost in thought and was not paying any attention to him. 

Jungkook puffed out his cheeks, a pout on his face. 

"Hyungs! What's going on?”

“Do you know where Yoongi is? " 

Taehyung's question surprised Jungkook. He arched an eyebrow and thought for a few seconds. 

He knew that Namjoon and Hoseok had gone to the public library for some research, but he couldn't remember which. Jin had gone to the grocery store. 

And Yoongi... well, he didn't remember seeing him or even remembering him leaving the apartment. 

"He's been missing for a while, he doesn't answer when I try to call him..." Jimin sighed as he threw his phone down next to him. 

They remained silent for a few seconds, while the game on the television continued to play its cinematic. 

Jungkook turned his head and noticed that the window was slightly open. He pointed at it with his chin to his partners. 

The three demons then glanced at each other. They figured it out. They knew where Yoongi had gone.  

"You think he went..." began Jungkook. 

"I wouldn't even be surprised, he was very quiet yesterday after Namjoon’s explanations." Jimin continued.

And they all knew that at those times, it meant that Yoongi had something on his mind. And when he did, he became the most stubborn person alive. Nothing and no one could make him change his mind. 

"That guy... Ah, when he gets home, he'll hear me." Taehyung sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

Jungkook jumped to his feet. 

"Are you going to wait quietly for him to come back?" He asked, crossing his arms before straightening up from the couch. "Because I'm not. We've been waiting for this moment for way too long." 

°°°

Yoongi was… well she couldn’t describe him. His voice was sweet, his little vibrato always made her body shiver a little. Besides, he was so kind, so gentle, she had never seen so much tenderness in a gaze that was destined to her. 

Well, of course, there was Jin. But that was so, so long ago. 

She bit her lower lip nervously. Thinking about him made her heart ache. She was close to him like she never was since the two of them were separated, yet so far at the same time. She still hadn't thought about how she would manage it. She'd never figured out how to get his memory back, and she’d never found him at all to try anything though. 

At first, she had planned to spend the afternoon with her books, researching curses, spells, or some kind of memory-related magic. She wanted to have some sort of plan before she tried any approach with her soulmates. 

But it seems that one of them decided otherwise. 

Yoongi never took his eyes off her. She seemed to be lost in her thoughts for some reason, probably his visit disturbed her. 

He couldn't read her mind, she was probably powerful enough to block her mind to telepaths, as he and his demon boyfriends were. His admiration for her only grew stronger and stronger. 

He wanted to know what was happening in her head, what seemed to be troubling her. 

From the moment he saw her through her shop window in his cat form, busy watering her plants when he saw the lines on her face when he realized he was standing in front of his last soulmate, the world stopped in front of him for a moment. 

Just as he felt when he met Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok, Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. That feeling of being face to face with someone he'd known all his life, even though he'd never spoken to them, someone who completed him, who finally made him feel whole and fulfilled. 

A soul mate, pure and simple. 

She felt the same way. Like the day before with Namjoon, and when she was with Jin before they separated. However, she wasn't used to experiencing... so many positive feelings and emotions like that.  

She'd also thought that Namjoon would never talk about her or want to see her again. 

Apparently, she was wrong. 

She fidgeted nervously with her fingers, keeping a certain distance between them. She wanted to ask Yoongi where the others lived, to meet them, and finally see Jin again after all these years.

But the problem was that Jin didn't remember her. And when Namjoon, Yoongi, and the others hear about what happened, they probably wouldn't want anything more to do with her. And that was what she was afraid of. 

The pain of losing a soul mate is a sharp pain, like having her heart ripped out, without any anesthetic, raw. 

She met people who had been rejected by their soulmates, or who had experienced the death of their soulmates. They were a shadow of their former selves, and remained so for the rest of their lives, until their last breath. Most of the time, they ended up taking their own lives, the latter being a gentler and more bearable solution than living without one or both halves. 

She'd been through it once, with Seokjin. If she hadn't been immortal, she wouldn't have survived it. 

"I don't know what's been going through your head, or what you've been going through all these years alone," Yoongi began, taking a step towards her, "but it's all over now. I mean, you're not alone anymore, not now that we've found you. You should have seen Namjoon when he came home yesterday, I haven't seen him this excited since we met Jungkook decades ago." He let out a chuckle. 

She looked up at him, he was close to her, very close. 

If he knew, he wouldn't say that. Even though she couldn't deny that those words warmed her whole being without really controlling it. So, Namjoon was happy to meet her? Were they all? 

"You really thought Namjoon wouldn't tell us about you and we wouldn't want you?" He asked, tilting his head to one side. 

"Honestly, yes." she admitted with a shrug, smiling shyly, "I'm... old, very old, I spent several centuries alone, never finding my soulmates so... I always told myself that they weren't looking for me, or simply didn't want me."

And the only one I ever knew, I lost him, she thought.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his deep, soft voice making her shiver, "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you, we all are, believe me."

He raised his hand, without hesitation, to place it gently on her cheek. Normally, she wasn’t the most comfortable with physical touch, but strangely, she hadn't flinched, she hadn't moved. The warmth of Yoongi's hand against her skin felt good and soothing in a way she couldn't describe a comfort she hadn't felt... for ages. 

She surprised herself leaning slightly against it, even closing her eyes when he started to rub softly her cheek with his thumb. 

She opened her lips to reply but heard something behind Yoongi that made her take a step back. She heard the bell of her shop signifying that someone was entering.

"I knew it!" she heard a deep voice approach them, "I knew you wouldn't listen to Namjoon hyung!"

She tilted her head as Yoongi turned his, not disturbed by the interruption. She was surprised to find herself facing three new people. She didn't need to ask who they were, nor she didn't need to ask Yoongi who these three beautiful and handsome men standing in front of her were. 

When her eyes met those of the smallest of the three, while the other two were talking to Yoongi, she didn't even know about what because she wasn't paying any attention. Her gaze was completely absorbed by this pink-haired person standing a few meters away from her. She was feeling for the second time today what she had felt earlier with Yoongi.

These three people were part of their bond. They were their soulmates too. 

One of the other two noticed the smaller boy's attitude and turned toward him. 

"Jimin, are you..." he began, turning his head to follow his gaze, "Okay..."

His voice trailed off when he saw her.

She didn't know what to say or do, she could feel four pairs of eyes on her now. 

She noticed a smile tugging at the corner of Yoongi's lips and she bites her own nervously. 

He knew that the maknaes would notice his absence, and would quickly realize where he was and, most importantly, that they would come to her. 

"Are you..." the smaller one, Jimin, whispered in a trembling voice, taking a step towards her. 

"Yes... Yes, I am." she replied, looking away, "It's a pleasure to meet y-ah...!"

She hadn't had time to finish her sentence when she felt a pair of arms around her waist and a body pressing against hers. She looked down, surprised to see a pink ball, slightly trembling. 

"We've been waiting for you for so long..." he murmured shakily. 

She felt her head spin slightly under all these new sensations, not so new, but ones she hadn't felt for ages. It was as if she was rediscovering them.

She didn't know how to react and didn't have time to think about it when she felt two new pairs of arms around her waist. 

"Jimin, don't monopolize her yet!" a young man with blue hair sulked, "Ah, I can't tell you how happy I am to finally meet you... Can I call you Noona?"

She didn't know what to say and didn't have time to think about it either.

"Noona," the tallest of the three murmured as he hugged her a little tighter, "I can't believe I can finally hold you... You’re real...!"

She was surprised to see Jimin sobbing quietly in her arms. She looked up, utterly confused, and searched for Yoongi, who was standing not far from her, his hand resting on Jimin's back, stroking him affectionately as he looked at her. He gave her a gentle smile and shrugged. 

"They are our maknaes, Jimin," he pointed to the pink-haired one, "Taehyung," he pointed to the blue-haired one, "and Jugkook, the youngest." He finished by pointing to the last one, who was looking at her with shining eyes.

“Noona, you’re so gorgeous,” Jungkook said, making her blush furiously. 

“Kook’… you're making her uncomfortable," Yoongi grumbled as he brought his hand up to stroke Jimin's hair. 

"I'm not... thank you..." she smiled as she saw Jungkook's face light up, then looked down at Jimin, "Is he all right?" she asked, worried to see him in such a state. 

"Don't worry about him," Taehyung caught her eye and gave her a big smile, "he's very sensitive and just happy to finally find you."

"And we've been waiting for you... "Jungkook continued before letting out a shy little laugh, "Ah, you must have heard it lots of times since yesterday but... It's true... we've been looking for you for years, without success..."

"We've all always had that hole in our hearts..." Jimin spoke again, raising his head, his eyes bright and slightly red, "It was painful sometimes when all that was missing for us was you, I don't even want to imagine how you must have felt without any of us..."

She didn't even notice that tears had started to fall as they spoke. She wasn't the kind of person who cried easily, far from it. But in less than two days, this was already the second time it had happened.

She didn't know why she was so moved by their words, perhaps because they were the people she'd been looking for all her long life, never finding, thinking they didn't want her, which turned out to be wrong. 

She could feel the deep empathy in their words because they'd been through the same thing as her - less so because they were all together - she felt understood by the people who were meant for her, and that feeling was indescribable. 

Noticing her tears, the three maknaes backed away slightly but stayed close to her. 

"Noona I... we're sorry if we said something hurtful..." murmured Jimin nervously. 

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," she replied, shaking her head, "I'm just... I don't know, it all seems so unrealistic..."

And it still was. Knowing that she found her soulmates, that Jin was only a few miles away... After all those years of loneliness, of feeling guilty, of secretly envying the people who crossed her path, happy with their soul mates...

She thought back to Minji's words, yesterday’s evening in their apartment...

« You deserve it more than anyone else. You spent your whole life helping anyone who asks for help, sacrificing your life more than once - literally - for the helping and saving. You deserve to be happy, with those who are destined for you. »

The thought of those words made her tears double. Because after all these years, centuries even, in darkness, the light was finally coming to her, the hope of a more bearable and less lonely eternity was growing inside her.  

“Hey, sweetheart, please don’t cry,” Yoongi’s sweet voice brought her out of her thoughts, “You’re prettier when you smile.” 

She blinked several times and looked at each of the people around her. 

There they were, her soul mates. 

“Ah, I think Namjoon hyung and Hoseok hyung are back home," suddenly muttered Taehyung, who had his phone in his hand, "They want to know where we are..."

"I think we're in a bit of a mess..." chuckled Jungkook, resting his cheek against her shoulder. "Oh, you don't know Hobi hyung yet!"

"Same for Jin, I think we're going to have a bad time when we get home... they're going to be even more jealous!" added Jimin with a small smile.

Her eyes had widened when he'd mentioned Jin's name. He was with them. There was no doubt about it now. The confirmation twisted her stomach slightly with anticipation and excitement. 

Jin was alive. He was in the same town as her after... over five hundred years apart. She didn't know how to deal with it all, again, it all seemed so unrealistic. She felt like she was in a dream, that she'd wake up sooner or later, and that everything she was experiencing now was an illusion. 

If this was indeed a dream, she hoped she'd never wake up.

"I have an idea! Why don't you come with us?"

She lowered her head at Jimin's question. This was something she hadn't expected. 

"So you can meet them too and see Namjoon again! Good idea, Minnie!" Taehyung came and hugged his partner, kissing his cheek affectionately. 

Jimin giggled in Taehyung's arms, making her smile. But the idea of finding herself in the same room as not just one, but all her soul mates. Seeing Jin again, without the certainty that he'd regained his memory... If they found out the truth, what had happened, she'd lose them for sure.

Selfishly, she didn't want that to happen. She wanted to see Jin again, of course. It was all she could think about, constantly, ever since they both split up. But the risk was too big now. She wanted to come to him with a plan, a way of getting his memory back if he hadn't. She owed him that.

"I know we're all more than happy to find her finally," Yoongi began, "but our beautiful soulmate can't just walk away from her business, can she?"

"But Yoongi hyung... I don't want to leave her..." pouted Jungkook, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder.

"I know Kookie, me neither," Yoongi sighed softly, understanding with Jungkook because he too didn't want to part with her, "but I think she needs some time to herself, to get over her emotions, am I right?"

He looked at her, his lips stretching slightly into a thin smile. She could see in his eyes that he wasn't reproaching her and that he was also prepared to stay if she asked him to. Every one of them was ready to go and get the moon for her if she asked them to.

"I understand... it must have been a lot of emotions for you..." Taehyung sighed sadly as he pulled away from Jimin, "So can we give you our phone number? And we'll give you our address too!"

"Good idea!" Jimin exclaimed and snapped his fingers to summon a piece of paper and a pen, " So you can come and see us whenever you like! Usually, there's always someone at home, but if there isn't, we'll give you the code, and you can just make yourself at home and wait for us!"

"Deal," she replied as Jimin wrote their numbers and addresses on the sheet of paper, "and you, feel free to come here, whenever you like, my apartment's upstairs, but I suppose you already know that..."

"What was I saying, she's extremely intelligent, our soulmate, as well as being beautiful," Yoongi smirked, making her blush.

"Aaah, I don't want to leave you, Noona..." Jungkook whined, grabbing her arm, "You smell so good too..."

YoShe u held back a smile, feeling a slight pinch in her heart.

She didn't want them to leave either.

°°°

“You did what ?!”

Sitting on the sofa, Yoongi chuckled as the three maknae shrugged their shoulders at Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon. Namjoon had his arms crossed against his chest, his eyebrows furrowed, while his two companions beside him looked desperate but amused at the same time. 

"You're incapable of listening to a tiny indication, are you..." Namjoon blurted out accusingly, "I hope you haven't scared her..."

"Knowing these three," began Hoseok, addressing the maknae, "they would have been able to jump on her..."

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook glanced at each other. Without needing to reply, Jin's eyes widened. 

"You jumped on her..." It wasn't a question, but a statement. 

"I... I wouldn't go to the extreme of using the word jump Jin hyung..." defended Jungkook with a pout, "and then... it was Jimin who clung to her first and cried like a baby !"

The said Jimin turned to his boyfriend, outraged and betrayed. 

"At least I didn't make her feel uncomfortable by showering her with compliments! "Oh noona, you're so beautiful, you're so intelligent noona!" cried Jimin, pointing his finger at Jungkook, who was frowning, and Yoongi, who wasn't paying any attention to the conversation.

Hoseok and Jin couldn't help laughing as they watched their younger partners bickering, while Namjoon rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He should have known that his partners wouldn't listen to him and would go and find her the second his back was turned. He wasn't that angry with them, he understood them. From the second they'd said goodbye the day before, all he could think about was seeing her again. Yoongi was the most stubborn and obstinate of them all, and if the maknaes were by nature very impatient, he was even more so. 

He couldn't blame them, she was their soul mate just as she was his. And even if a reason they didn't know existed had darkened her heart and saddened her soul, she could not want to have something to do with them. She just couldn't. 

His four companions had only listened to their hearts.

"Did it at least go well?" finally asked Hoseok, who had settled on the floor, facing the maknaes, "how is she?"

"She's incredible hyung!" exclaimed Taehyung, "She's beautiful and her voice is so sweet..."

"Aaah, I miss her," Jimin added as he dropped onto Taehyung, "we shouldn't have left..." 

Hoseok chuckled and turned to Jin. 

"That means we're the last ones who didn't meet her, ah, that's not fair... Jin, are you all right?"

They all turned to the older man who had sat on the edge of the large sofa. He was staring into space, his face disfigured by pain. 

Yoongi was the first to react and got up to approach his elder. 

"Hyung, is it the same as yesterday?"

Jin took his head in his hands, nodding. He didn't understand why these violent migraines were suddenly coming to him, and more importantly, why he was now having these flashes and memories that weren't his own. 

Or were they? He had no memory of living in a human village with a hill and a big oak tree. And who was this person he was with? He couldn't see their face correctly, it was blurred, like everything that had happened since yesterday. 

"What's wrong with him, Yoongi?" asked Namjoon, concerned. 

"He's never been like this..." Jungkook sat down next to him, also worried.  

Yoongi told them about yesterday's episode in the kitchen, which made Jin wince, not wanting to bother them with it. 

"It's nothing," Jin muttered after a few seconds massaging his temples, "It's just tiredness I guess."

He wouldn't talk about the memories flooding his mind. He didn't want to worry them anymore. He'd look for the answers himself. 

"Hyung you've been very tired before, you've never had this kind of response..." replied Jimin who had gone into the kitchen to get him a glass of water. 

"He's right, maybe it's a problem with your powers? Or... argh, I don't know." Taehyung grumbled in frustration. 

"It'll be fine," Jin reassured him with a small smile, "I'll get some rest, and everything will be better tomorrow. But I will remember that you met our soulmate and Hobi and I are the only ones who don't know her."

He chuckled when he saw the innocent looks on the maknae’s faces and ruffled Yoongi's hair to reassure him. 

"If it happens again, you won't be able to escape," Yoongi replied simply, rising to his feet. 

He said nothing, but when his gaze met Namjoon's, the two demons understood each other. Jin's condition coincided strangely with the meeting of their last soulmate.

Pure coïncidence? Or was there a link between her and Jin's condition?

°°°

Every day there was an outdoor market in Seoul. She used to go there regularly to find various types of plants for her potions, spells, and other magical preparations. But also, fruit and vegetables for her personal use.

This time, Handong has decided to come with her. She closed her shop for the morning and set off in the early hours. 

She looked up at the sky and spotted the moon, gradually disappearing to make way for the sun. The full moon was for tonight. 

She knew that the moon was a very powerful force for witches. It was also that moment when she recharged her crystals and prepared her moon water for the month. 

But above all, the full moon influenced her powers. It was the best time to cast powerful spells and make sure they worked. It was therefore the perfect opportunity to find any spell that would help Jin recover his memory. 

The day before, after Yoongi, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin had left, and after spending a good hour recovering from her emotions, she went back to combing through every magic book and grimoire she owned, whether in the bookshop or her personal library.

She hadn't found anything very conclusive. All the chapters on memory magic had one thing in common: the spells, their effects, and their duration always depended on who was casting them and who was being affected by them. 

The spell cast on Jin could have disappeared, just as it could still be present. She could only know this by seeing him and talking to him. But even that was a tricky thing to do. 

"Is everything all right, sweetie?" Handong asked in a soft voice, after noticing that she’d been quiet for a while now. 

"Hm?" she turned her head towards her, before smiling and nodding, "Yes, of course! sorry I... I was thinking about my research last night."

"Don't apologize," Handong smiled at her, "It's perfectly understandable. Don't hesitate if you need advice, I'm not a specialist, but I'll gladly give you my opinion."

She nodded again and explained what she’d found. Her different ideas, but they all came down to a single point. She had to see Jin to find out about his condition and memory. And that was where she was stuck. 

During her explanations and conversation, she had arrived at the market, and without stopping to talk, she looked at the different stalls, buying some fruit and vegetables from old ladies. 

In the distance, she notices a stall selling papaya. She hadn't seen or eaten papaya for a long time. It was also Jin's favorite fruit. 

Handong was busy with a merchant, so she waved back and headed towards the stall. She greeted the old woman manning the stall and looked carefully at the fruit on display. 

As she reached out to take one, she saw an arm in her field of vision landing on the same papaya as her. Surprised, she turned her head mechanically to see who it was, before freezing, her eyes wide. 

No, it couldn't be true. 

She had to be hallucinating, it couldn't... be him. 

And yet she could recognize that face, those features above all others.

Jin. 

Kim Seokjin was standing in front of her. 

°°°

"By the way hyung, why were you and Joonie at the library yesterday?" 

Jimin was currently sitting on a stool, watching Hoseok who was busy preparing lunch while Jin was away. 

"Namjoon wanted to research our soulmate," he explained as he chopped some onions, "At first I didn't understand why honestly, but you know, over time, you and I know very well that Namjoon's instincts are never wrong."

"Does that mean you've found something?" exclaimed Jimin, suddenly straightening up. 

Hoseok nodded, now working on dicing the vegetables. What they had found in the library... he could still hardly believe it. 

Should he tell Jimin? Or should he wait until they are all together to share the results of their research? 

He didn't have time to think about it any longer. He heard a loud knock, startling Jimin. It wasn't long before Yoongi and Jungkook emerged from their room, also startled. 

"What's going on here?" Asked the older one, "I don't suppose we were expecting company?"

"Maybe it's Jin who's back and his arms are too full to open the door!" Jungkook added, tilting his head to one side. I'll get the door!"

He trotted to the door, dressed in a long sweatshirt belonging to Namjoon, who was still asleep in the room, just like Taehyung. 

He opened the door with a big smile on his face. 

"Hi! What took you so long Jin hyun..."

He didn't finish his sentence. His voice faded as he saw what was standing in front of him. At his silence, Yoongi and Jimin joined him, themselves freezing in front of what was in front of them. 

Y/n was standing in front of them, totally panicked, out of breath, and sweating. 

But she wasn’t alone. 

"Help me... please..." she begged, her voice breaking. They could see she was holding back tears. 

She was supporting Jin, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. A completely unconscious Jin. 

[sxfterhearts]

omg chat why is writing kinda hard???

ok so this is a bit of an aside (warning: this post is long) but @348kg and i talked about this and honestly writing fanfics is a way for us to express ourselves creatively while using our idols as inspo for our work. and it’s fun most of the time.. but like honestly, 70-80% of the time, writing is hard. it’s not easy, like… it’s actually quite hard work.

and i know everyone has seen posts of like “pls reblog instead of just silently reading” or “pls like at least to show your appreciation” etc etc etc and ur probs sick of hearing it but like, it’s so true???

writing is honestly hard. and for most of us fanfic writers.. im sure you know but we have lives outside of our blogs. we are students, or we work normal jobs, we have life responsibilities, we have problems to deal with, and yet somewhere in between our busy lives we manage to find the time to sit down and create these pieces of writing for you, the reader, to read.

and tbh, i don’t really know where im going with this? i just want to let you know this: a typical 1-2k words one-shot probably takes me around 2-3 hours to write (on average, on a good day - sometimes longer or shorter). but it takes you maybe 10-15 mins, at most 30 mins to read depending on your reading speed. isn’t the time gap a little wild 🫠 on a typical work day, i get home from work at about 6, i cook myself dinner and eat, i shower and clean up, and if i know im writing that night, i make sure to clear my schedule (ie no overtime, no phone calls to friends or parents etc) and i sit on my laptop and write from about 10ish to about midnight. then i pause and i edit, and set things up to get ready post (think: pictures, title, word count, writing the warnings, summary, doing the tags) and by the time i post, it’s probably 1am.

i breathe a sigh of relief because it feels good! it feels really good to release my labour of love (literally) out into the world. and honestly, you know who you are, but those of you who constantly read and reblog my work, i see u!! (Alexa play i see u by p1harmony) and those who leave comments or reviews in the tags, i also see u (that’s why i like to reblog and respond to your tags too)!! it honestly brings me so much joy when someone comes and talks to me about something i wrote and how it made them feel. or even when someone recommends a fic i wrote. all these things that are so little and take so little of your time actually mean so much to me and im sure other writers as well.

and so i guess what im trying to say to everyone is: if you are a fic reader, if you read any fics, i just want you to know that the fic you loved reading took the writer a lot of resources to write (brain power, creativity and importantly time). i hope this gives u an insight into the process of a writer/writing a fic because im hoping it might help with whether or not you decide to hit that like or reblog or comment button in the near future!!

(also, i think it’s a shame that as writers sometimes we have to compromise on what we actually want to write vs what to write to get more engagement, likes, rbs etc. personally i have been writing on tumblr since 2020 on and off so ive been on here for four years now and i have a good sense of what is a good formula for a “successful” fic - usually it’s smut, usually it’s for the most popular member in terms of fic reading, and usually it’s of a certain length posted around a certain time etc etc. but i guess i don’t rly care anymore bc im a kinda old tumblr writer who isn’t bothered about the notes as much as i am just grateful for the little comments people send me saying that what i wrote made them feel seen or resonated with them. cos i think that is priceless 🥹)

PS. in no way am i complaining about the engagement or lack thereof that i personally get, nor am i complaining about the mere fact that writing is hard bc yes i am aware that i wanted to write in the first place and so it was my decision haha

[awsugar]

I don’t understand why some big mcr blogs slate anyone who believes gerard and frank had a thing, like our view didn’t arise from nowhere there’s clearly evidence that has led us to think this. I get disliking those who push frerard in frank and Gerard’s faces (barely anyone does this nowadays) but slating people for believing they had something in the past is kinda ridiculous imo. Franks solo music speaks volumes but if you read into it you’re demonised as a frerardie

mmmmm am i down to clown today... ok i will speak.

actually im going to put this under a cut bc my last ask was a long one and i feel like i am going to talk about this for way too long bc its 1am and im honestly a little tipsy.

note: i just finished answering this it took me an embarrassingly long amount of time and i dont think the person who asked this is even going to read it but i apparently have a lot of thoughts and no one ever wants to listen to me lol 

firstable yea actually unfortunately anytime they do a livestream, or anytime anyone SOMEHOW RELATED to them does a livestream. there are ppl in the chat talking about frerard. they both have comments off on insta now, i didnt actually read the comments that much and franks have been off for ages but im positive there were people in the comments talking about frerard. i mean fuck, franks LAST tweet he qrted someone who tagged him in the replies of a pic of The Kiss. so i mean yea its definitely not a majority but it still happens extremely frequently.

this is like. genuinely really funny to me bc im sure frank didnt see it, i think he knows enough not to look at the chat for the most part. but the moral is that its 2021 and people STILL dont know how to act. i wont go on about it but it actively enrages me anytime i watch a stream. rule one of real person fandoms is keep all that shit in your fan spaces. which is actually why i prefer tumblr. none of them are on here. actively engaging in mcr fandom on twitter is too close for comfort, especially since frank follows a handful of my friends and also like. knows me.

so like moral of my most times unavoidable wall of text is that ppl are right to be frustrated with the fans who act this way. i am extremely frustrated with them. and i think for the people who have never like tinhatted or anything, this type of behavior stands out and makes an impression and becomes the like. poster child for ppl who are like 'hmmmmm but what if.' about the frank and gerard stuff.

anyway, moving on, i think a lot of peoples hang up is that they view it as rpf. which i have a couple things to say about actually. its no secret that i have read a lot of rpf. i had never heard of fanfiction until i started getting into mcr in 2008. that was my introduction. and at the time, in that community, it was completely normal. and it was for a loooooooooong time. i knew of people who didnt read fic or felt weird about it but the majority of people i interacted with DID read fic. and on top of that, the people who didn;t were nothing like they are today. we all got along. no one was like demonizing people who did read fic. in 2012 when i think mcr tumblr was at its peak, ALL of the most popular blogs were "frerardies" (hate that term). they all talked about and recced fic and a lot of them wrote it too. everyone had a boyfriends tag. anyway when i came BACK to the mcr fandom in 2016 after a couple years away post-breakup it was still like that. people talked about fic all the time and you didnt have to like, hide it in fear of being labeled as a terrible person.

i always discussed this stuff, fic and theories, openly on this blog. for YEARS. the first time i noticed the rpf shift was 2019 tbh, when my blog was suspended and i (not related) had a mental health crisis and i spent a handful of months off tumblr, when i remade on a different blog suddenly it seemed like people were like noooo you cant talk about that. ppl who read fic are disgusting. if you think something happened between them you're homophobic. i was like honestly baffled bc i didnt know how it had seemingly changed so much in a matter of like 4 months or so. but thats the society we live in now lmao.

anyway the other thing about rpf is that i think most of these people are hypocrites. bc almost everyone makes an exception for unholyverse. theyre like ok i will dabble in the most popular fic and see what its about while still demonizing the people who read OTHER fics. like ugh.

also i have noticed its an age thing. a lot of the time. almost every mcr fan i personally interact with or know, which is a lot of people, read fic, used to read fic and just sort of grew out of it, and/or (usually and) believe something happened between them. but everyone i interact with is an adult and all of my closer friends are long time mcr fans like me. i feel like the percentage of fans who are minors who are extremely anti-rpf is way higher than the percentage of adults. and i think thats just due to the fan culture we grew up with and the fact that young people a lot of times are like..it seems very performative in an attempt to be the least problematic person that ever lived.

also random side note its really funny to keep updated with this debate on twitter. they literally yoyo there. frerard is ok on a bi-weekly basis.

anyway back to what i was originally saying which was that people view tinhatting as rpf and therefor not okay. which like idk maybe i sound crazy but i also always said this when i was in the phandom and discussing like dan and phil and whether or not they were soulmates before they came out, i don't think tinhatting is rpf. or like. idk theres a part of me that can see why people think rpf is a bad thing even though if i was famous i wouldnt care if people wrote fics about me. but like. analyzying the real life things that people have done and said in public (important). in order to try to contextualize their relationship or understand that dynamic better. well i mean first of all its not fiction. but like i do think its a lot different than writing explicit bdsm fic about them.

and i know a lot of the people on here who dont like actively participate in these conversations do like. see where we're coming from. with the frank lyrics and millions and like all of that stuff. they just dont talk about it. i mean *I* have stopped mostly talking about it at all unless its vague, due to the current climate and opinion. and sometimes we'll all have a moment of hysteria where we've all decided its ok to speak about. me right now apparently.

anyway im positive no one read all of this. i need to learn how to be brief but ive been saying that my whole life. but you're right. to me its clear that there's a bigger story behind it than frank and gerard just being buddies who were in a band together. a logical conclusion. and i wish we could just all get along again instead of people being sooooo mad about it.

[broadstflyers]

A/N: Welp, inspiration struck me, felt as though it quite literally hit me over the top of my head at like 1am, so I proceeded to write this at...1am. It was fun, honestly. It was meant to be a shorter blurb, but I guess it grew into a longer one. I have been experimenting with different writing styles to see which one fits me the best, so I gave the main character a name this time, Alessandra. Also, I was a slight idiot and on my first tag list, I made it specific to the other series I am writing. If you like this piece and the other Mat piece I wrote and you want to be tagged when I post any writing at all, the tag list is here. The semi lowercase thing I've got going on is purposeful. As always, feedback is appreciated, and if you like it, give it a like, reblog, or pop into my asks. Thanks! :)

Warnings: Cursing, angst, mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: When an ex comes back in a moment of weakness, you have to make a tough decision.

you say nothing as you approach the black haired boy sitting at a table in your english class. you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, and you lock eyes. no words are spoken, only a mutual understanding. one that only you two could define. you suddenly inch closer to him, continuing to lean in until your head is resting on his chest. you rest your arm next to your head, and he wraps an arm around you.

home. warm. it was.

you could feel his heart beating out of his chest. your heart fluttered with joy. it was instant. it was marvelous. it was beautiful.

“I love you, Alessandra.”

you lurch forward out of your bed, heart beating so fast you are shaking. you pant heavily, tears stream your face, startled. your eyes dart around your room to ground yourself through watery eyes. you hold up your trembling hands, something that has refused to stop since he walked out of your front door for the last time two months ago.

“please don’t visit,” you choke out. you find the strength to turn around and grab your pillow. your chest pounds with pain, every movement is agonizing. you squeeze your soft pillow against your chest to try and alleviate the self-sustained blow. you pretended the pillow could somehow suck the heavy feelings out of you, the way he used to use his hands of healing magic, the way he used to place them with gentle care on your chest to somehow suck the anxiousness out of you onto himself.

you mindlessly rock back and forth, waiting for the waves of mind numbing pain to recede back into the endless deep abyss of despair.

“please don’t visit,” you repeat in a weak voice. not that he could hear your begging, anyways.

he didn’t hear your pleas to love you how you loved him- with every bone in your body. he held a knife in his calloused hands and carved his initials into your soul. every inch of your soul belonged to him, and you let it.

how can you break a bond that felt as though the angels themselves used their delicate touch to hand-tie the gold string you once believed held you two together?

maybe that explains why this feels like hell.

you flinch as you hear a sharp knock at the front door. you should probably get that, but you instead settle back into your hazy gaze out into your room.

a second knock rings throughout the apartment, faster, with a sense of urgency.

“please don’t visit,” you croak.

“Alessandra,” a voice croaks back. “open up.”

your blood freezes cold, eyes grow wide in panic. fire spreads through your veins. hot and cold sensations rip you apart limb from limb. your voice feels broken. no sounds come out when you open your mouth.

I guess I should move.

so you do. you stand up a little too quickly, and your vision goes black. you place your palms down on the bed and wait for your vision to return. you tip toe over to the door and place your palm on your chilling door. goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“it’s Mat,” his once soothing voice whispers through the door.

“Mat,” you quietly repeat back.

“yes, it’s me,” he says with a sigh of relief that you answered him.

his voice of familiarity is catching you in a stint of anxiety where you just want something- anything that’s familiar. you know this. when you used to gaze into his kind, brown eyes, you would see the boy you met in eighth grade, not the man that walked out that door just two months ago.

you went to move the locks, and you unlocked both of them, until you pulled back with hesitancy. “I can’t, Mat, I can’t,” you breathe out, “I can’t see you. please,” you plead, “hear me. I, I can’t. you didn’t hear me all those months I pleaded with you. hear me now.”

you can hear him place his head on the door with a soft thump.

“I still love you, Alessandra,” he mumbles.

and that was it. you just about exploded. the emotions you had kept at bay were unleashed. you began to sob and you sank to the ground until you could hug your knees. you still faced the door. you knew he shouldn’t walk in, but you almost wanted him to. you wanted him to put an end to this, but was it a good idea?

no, it wasn’t. and you knew that.

you began to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. “it’s unlocked,” you hear yourself say in the distance. you didn’t immediately regret those words like you thought you would. you had scooted yourself away from the door so you wouldn’t get hit.

he slowly opened the creaky door, and glances down to see you blankly staring at your knees. what else could you do? it was awkward enough.

he doesn’t say anything. the apartment is dead.

he carefully sits down across from you, far enough where he isn’t in your face, but close enough that you could extend your legs and they would touch him.

you both sit in silence for a moment, trying to adjust to being in each other’s presence again. his presence felt so natural, yet so nerving. you weren’t used to feeling so on edge around him. so hurt.

“time,” you sniff and break the unbearable silence. “I need time,” you reaffirm.

he nods slowly. “I understand,” he whispers. “I know I hurt you. I know I fucked up. I fucked up badly.”

you don’t move a muscle from staring at the seam on your sweatpants. you take a shaky breath. it’s now or never.

“Mat, do you know how painful it is to have to practically beg someone to not treat you like shit one day and then to decide the next day I’m the fucking greatest human being on this planet?” you start to find your voice again.

“I had to beg my boyfriend to treat me with respect. the person I gave my soul to. do you know how much that fucking killed me?” your voice was seething with anger as you remembered the end of your relationship. feelings of betrayal and hurt overtook you.

you push yourself off the floor. he follows you.

“you don’t love me,” you assert. “you ‘love’ me because of when you met me. I’m just familiar to you.”

he makes a taken aback face, his eyebrows furrow. “hey, I know what I feel okay? and yeah, I was a fucking asshole. I realize that now. I shouldn’t have acted out on you like I did. I shouldn’t have made you beg for basic human respect. I’m sorry.”

you look into his eyes again. those brown innocent eyes were once filled with sparkling joy. you see 13 year old you dancing around with his favorite flower in your hair. you see hundreds of dates, each one more special than the last.

you see innocent you. it’s just familiarity. you know it is. you’re too hurt, mind too foggy to really sort through your feelings to figure out if you love the mat standing in front of you.

“I’m going to need time, Mat. I am still feeling too much hurt to decide how I feel.”

he swallows hard, but eventually nods. “okay.”

with a heavy heart, you walk him to the door. before he can walk out, he stops, turns around, and looks down at you one last time. you gaze up into those endless eyes of his, heart shattering because you know you have to send him on his way. it’s for your own good.

he opens his mouth to speak and you gently shake your head. he closes his mouth, and you offer him a nod as in, it’s time to go. you can see his body exhale. he steps through the door frame, this time you sending him through there yourself. you don’t wait to see if he will turn around. you don’t want to see if he turns around. you want to close that door knowing you are the one who sent him away, and that was all you wanted to remember in the future. and so you do.

you lock the locks with every ounce of you left, pressing your fingers down to make sure the door was actually locked. you just wanted to keep everything out. every weird feeling, any remote desire to go back to him.

you paused to touch the door one last time, letting a single tear flow down your cheek before turning to crawl back into bed and sulk for the rest of the day.

you knew deep down that was the last time you would ever see the face of your teenage love.

he won’t be visiting anymore.

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

again, here's the link to the tag list, and my asks are open if you want to talk about this piece! I hope you...well...enjoyed it, I guess? lmao

[aliwritesfic]

The Shop of Misordinary (Frankie Morales Drabble)

AN: I wrote this at 1AM entirely on my phone because my laptop is broken, so no word count sorry 😢 I take no responsibility for spelling, grammatical, or formatting errors. It’s also winter and it’s freezing so I stopped writing when my fingers started hurting.

Frankie knew the moment he stepped inside the tiny shop that something wasn’t right. Not in a way that made his skin crawl, that set off alarm bells in his head. It wasn’t right in a way that made him feel like he had stepped off the rain slicked city street and into a completely different place. A small bell tinkled his arrival, but there didn’t seem to be anyone about. His heavy work boots creaked loudly on the hardwood floor.

Shelves were crammed with an assortment of items; ordinary enough looking items, yet nothing that correlated. Jars of what Frankie assumed was tea with labels like Bravery and Persistence carefully placed on them. Ancient looking leather bound tones with no names on the spine, that seemed to hum the closer he got. Small, faceless idols in gold, silver, bronze. Nothing had a price tag.

“Anything catch your eye?” A light, airy voice startled him out of his browsing. He turned to face a woman with wild hair, who held an air of agelessness about her. Frankie cleared his throat.

“Everything?” He tried, which was the truth. He’d never been in a shop like this before. He wondered if it was one of those new age places that Santi’s sister was into. The woman chuckled lightly and rested an elbow against the glass countertop.

“Allow me to rephrase, is anything calling out to you? Are you feeling drawn to anything?” She said. Frankie shook his head. She frowned slightly, the space between her brows furrowing.

“It’s all very interesting, but no. Sorry.” He wasn’t sure why he apologised. It wasn’t like it was his fault that he just wasn’t interested in this new age hippy shit.

“That’s . . .” the woman thought for a moment, “that’s strange.”

Now it was Frankies turn to frown. “Not really, I’m just not interested.” The woman shook her head.

“No, it’s strange. Very strange, actually.” She stood and made her way to his side of the counter. She stood a head shorter than him, and Frankie noticed that she had tattoos snaking up her arms; flowers and vines and insects and birds, an entire forest on her skin.

Frankie bit back a sigh. “Why’s it strange? Are people just so enchanted with your shop that they can’t help but spend all their money? Well sorry but I’ve got no use for anything in here, and I’m running late. I don’t even know why I came in here in the first place.”

He turned to leave, thinking of the beer waiting for him at home.

“Wait!” She caught his arm, her grip surprisingly firm for someone who almost didn’t seem real. “You wouldn’t be here unless you needed something in here.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, completely over whatever this was. His voice took on a mocking, almost cruel tone. “Whatever this sales tactic is-”

“It’s not a tactic!” The woman let go of his arm and held it rigidly at her side. “If you’ll give me a moment to explain. Please.”

It was the please that did it.

She seemed to understand this, pulling a chair out of seemingly thin air and gestured for him to sit. He did, crossing his arms in front of his chest. She hoisted herself onto the counter and crossed her ankles.

“Fransisco, this isn’t an ordinary shop, although I’m sure you have ascertained that.”

Frankie rubbed his nose, confusion growing by the second. “I never told you my name.” Was all he could say.

“Quite right,” she agreed, “as I was saying, this isn’t an ordinary shop. It’s misordinary.”

“That’s not a word.”

“Yes, it is. It’s misordinary in every sense of the word. See, the shop is only available to those who need it. Who need something from it, they’re calling out to it, even if they don’t realise. You were calling out to it, Fransisco, but it seems neither of us know what for.”

Frankie wanted to tell her that what she was saying sounded like something from a kids book, but something in his gut told him to keep his mouth shut.

“Have you been having any trouble with certain emotions? No? Need the favour of a god? No again? Want to erase someone from your memory? No no no.” She sighed tapped her chin with a long finger. She jumped down from the counter, gestured for him to remain seated, and disappeared through a door that Frankie was sure hadn’t been there a minute ago.

He could’ve left. This was the perfect time to leave. Something though, something he couldn’t describe, kept him rooted to the spot. The woman emerged a few minutes later, holding two steaming teacups of silver liquid. Frankie eyed it warily.

“What is this,” he said, sniffing. Lavender, salt of the ocean, rain, all seemed to fill his nose at once.

“It’s to help us both figure out why you’re here,” she said, taking a delicate sip from her own cup. Frankie followed suit, surprised at the pleasant taste that burst over his tongue. Mint mostly, with a faint hint of honey.

“Now we wait.” The woman set her now empty teacup down and held her hand out for Frankies.

“How long for?” He asked. Delicious warmth was spreading through his chest, pooling in his stomach.

“However long it should take.” She said with a shrug. She also seemed to anticipate his next words. “Don’t worry. You won’t be late for your beer and basketball. Time doesn’t move in here, not a second has truly passed since you stepped foot through that threshold.”

Disbelieving, Frankie looked down at his watch. It was stuck on five-fifteen, the face still glowing but the seconds unmoving.

So in the end, he didn’t know how long they sat there in silence, waiting. Frankie let his mind wander, occasionally glancing down at his watch to make sure it was still stuck.

“Oh my,” the woman’s whisper made his head jerk up. He raised a brow at her, waiting for her to say more.

“Do you see it?” She asked softly.

“See what?”

“Watch my pointer finger. Don’t blink, if you can help it.”

Frankie did as she requested, his eyes burning and watering with the effort. But then he saw. A thin red string seemed to tie itself around her finger. He followed it, right to his own.

“I see why you’re here now,” she said. Her eyes searched his face, confusion written plainly on her expression.

“What does it mean?” Frankie asked. She shrugged helplessly.

“There’s old folklore, myths . . .” She bit her lip. “Fransisco, have you ever heard of the invisible string?” Frankie shook his head. “Stay a while? And I’ll explain it? We might be able to figure out why we’re connected.”

“I don’t even know your name,” Frankie said, thinking this whole thing was a bit ridiculous.

“I haven’t uttered my own name in centuries,” she said more to herself than him. “Haven’t been asked in centuries.”

Frankie pulled a face. Well and truly insane, he thought. But then her eyes met his, and he thought maybe she wasn’t so insane.

“My name is Rhiannon. Please, stay and allow me to explain everything to you.”

So he stayed.

[sapphicscholar]

2020 Fic Year-in-Review!

It has been ... a year (both for global/national and personal reasons). I did less writing than I had planned to. Didn’t finish those WIPs like I promised myself I would. But! I worked my butt off to be there 110% for my students, and I still managed to write words and new fics! (According to AO3, I came in just under 200,000 words written/posted this year, which is more than I expected and a nice little boost.) 

With the whole “5 fics you’re proudest of” end-of-year meme going around (thanks for the heads up about it @chainofclovers!) and having been tagged at some point in a fic-in-review thing whose questions I’ve lost, I want to focus on being happy with some of the things I did! So, without further ado, 5 fics in chronological order of posting that I’m proud of!

1. Swipe Right for Soulmates - Supercat, T

In general, I really dislike soulmate AUs, and that’s putting it lightly. I’ve read a handful I adore; I’ve tried to write through my issues with the trope a few times; and this is perhaps my favorite of my attempts at playing with it! I got to do a few fun things with genre in this rival-CEO fic and write Cat and Kara into a rivals-to-friends-to-lovers arc, which I don’t think we get too often with this pairing. Anyway, it was fun and felt different, and it still makes me smile!

2. Your fav is in fandom series - one Supercat, M; one Sanvers, T

These two one-shots are meant as a  kind of cracky love letter to fandom and the kinds of relational practices it can foster at its best. It came to be in the early weeks of the pandemic and lockdown in the US when, utterly unable to sleep one night (all the nights?!?), I turned to my wife at 1am and asked: “So...which one of the Supergirl characters would be the fandom asshole?” Originally there was meant to be a third fic feat. Lucy/Alura (Majorly Judging You) with my personal headcanon that Lucy organizes the big annual events like fic exchanges and ship weeks and that Alura takes the whole “thank your mods!” A/Ns very seriously, messaging Lucy each and every day of an event with personalized thank you notes that lead to a friendship, then more. 

3. If you give an alien a syllabus... - General Danvers, G

Another love letter--this time to community colleges and the wonderful people who staff and attend them. This fic felt vital when I was writing it (there was a lot of stuff going on at my own university and many across the country that I was putting my job on the line to fight), and it was meant as a gift for a close friend who teaches at a local community college at a time when we couldn’t see each other in person. Even though I’ve only ever written a couple General Danvers fics, I quite enjoy fics about them (they were some of the earliest ones I ever read in the Supergirl tag!), and it’s always a lovely fandom to visit!

4. you showed me colors you know i can’t see with anyone else - Supercat, E

Despite being the only angsty thing I’ve written in quarantine when most of my fics have trended toward the cracky or the weird, I actually really enjoyed this smutty, feelings-heavy, years-later/post-breakup Supercat fic! I know that fic often shows some of the best of what life and love can be (which is awesome, even if I’m partial to messy characters who don’t do well with or think of themselves as deserving or wanting a neat happily ever after trajectory), but this felt a little gritty in ways that I personally like. It’s the aftermath of two complicated women coming together and shattering, showcasing all the messy emotions that remain when they start the process of picking those pieces back up and finding a new way to put them back together. Hilariously, I went into it envisioning something with a similar premise but lighter--essentially what would be a part 2 to this fic if I ever wrote it. It was meant to be about Cat and Kara after this initial moment of coming back together for the first time in years, seeing them sneak around almost like teenagers as they tried to keep this precious thing to themselves while they rekindled it and figured out what it could be away from the judgment of everyone who was there when they fell apart the first time. 

5. Writing Retreats Are For Lovers - Supercat, M

Another AU! Well, Cat’s pretty much canon Cat, but featuring ABD PhD candidate Kara who meets her at a writing retreat as she tries to get the dissertation written and Cat finally gets a writing coach to help her through the worst case of writers’ block she’s had in years. It hit close to the heart and was very, very fun to write! I always have fun getting to bring characters into new settings to see what about them is integral to who they are and what is context-dependent, much like I’m intrigued by the different (and very similar!) ways relationship dynamics play out, especially early on, when the characters are in new settings and/or roles.

Honorable Mention: Queen of All Mediums - Supecat, G

It’s weird and quirky and a first foray into writing a historical AU based on a period I know so much--like, too much--about to start figuring out how to strike that balance between “what do people need to know for your fic?” vs. “what do you want people to know but honestly it won’t hurt their experience of the story if they don’t?” I have a very long nineteenth-century authors period piece all outlined, which I’ve debated trying to make original fiction or a Supercat fic. I don’t know where it’ll go, if anywhere, but it was nice getting to dip my toes into the historical romance genre here, even if it’s just a tiny little one-shot about spiritualism with a sprinkling of nineteenth-century class and gender politics in the US. 

Theres a lot I could say about trends in my fic writing this year (so little angst! largely AU! no new WIPs!), but I won’t bore you all with my theories about why x or why not y. I wasn’t surprised by most of what I found looking through what I wrote, though I was shocked to find that I wrote only Supergirl pairings this year--a variety of pairings (only some of which appear on this list), but still. My writing and reading didn’t match up at all, and my random fic outlines and drafty drafts also include a much broader variety (some seeds of what was, at one point, to become a multi-chapter Grace/Frankie fic that I think I’ll need to ease into with a couple one-shots; several fully sketched out SwanQueen fics from binge-watching the whole series for the first time during the pandemic and having SO MANY thoughts about both the show’s promising notes and its many disappointments, as well as the fandom’s fabulous works; and a handful of notes about Dead to Me that are honestly closer to meta than fics proper anyway).

Honestly I’d love to see other people doing this! Consider yourself tagged, and feel free to tag me in your responses--I’d love to hear all about what writing you’re proud of!

[theasstour]

Nora darling, I’m writing my first fic EVER and I’m worried that when I finally finish it and post it, it will be a total disaster. Do you have any tips on getting it out there for people to read it?

BRI💖💖 I’ve given advice like this before and I tried finding the ask but I couldn’t so I’ll try and make a list for you!

TAG YOUR STUFF! Key when tagging your fics is to remember that the first 5 tags are the most important cos those tags are the ones your fic will show up in when people give it a search. You literally do not have to tag more than five things. and you most definitely do not have to tag your fic if you reblog it again cos your fic won’t show up in any of those tags (only on your own blog and your followers’ dashboard), it only works once and that’s when you post it.

POSTING TIME! Post when loads of people are on. It usually ranges from 4pm-1am everywhere, and most people are online at the same time on Sundays (which is why I always post on Sundays!!). Check when most people are on by doing a Google search!!!! It differs from place to place etc!

HYPE YOUR WORK! If you’re writing something, hype it! Give it a tag on your blog and reblog posts that remind you of your fic. It keeps people interested and people will keep an eye out for it! Like I did for Baby Blue, I tagged stuff MONTHS in advance to keep people around and make them want to read!

UPDATE REGULARLY! This is what keeps people coming back to your work I’ve noticed! Ff you have a schedule, people are more likely to jump on the train and read as you update, meaning more asks, more notes, more interaction with your readers (which is the best part of posting on here!!!). You don’t have to do this, as I’ve seen people update sporadically and still have loads of hype, but thats cos the writer already has a big following and readers. I updated regularly when I wrote my first chaptered fic and it’s cos of that that i have most of my readers now! Besides, I need structure but that’s just my preference!

BETA READERS! If you wanna, it’ll be really helpful for you to develop your writing further by having people read over your work before you post it! You really don’t need betas, I don’t usually ask people to beta my writing, but it’s gotten quite popular, so it’s something you can consider if you feel good about it!!! You’re also almost guaranteed they’ll reblog your stuff when you post it aka spread your fic! There aren’t a lot of people who actually reblog the fics they read anymore, which is a shame as that’s how fic writers get the attention they deserve, so having beta readers and having them help you with not only your writing but spreading your fic as well, is a great idea!

PATIENCE BABEY! The most important one. I cannot stress this enough. You need to be PATIENT !!! I’ve seen so many writers give up cos they don’t get as many notes as they want when they post their first piece, or they don’t get any asks, or any sort of feedback. You WON’T get feedback unless you hype your work, unless you’re patient, unless you work up a big reader count, etc! I literally did not get ANY feedback until I posted my 8th piece of writing on here! NONE! I got next to no notes as well, but it’ll come eventually! Don’t rush it, you’ll get there!!! You’ll get the recognition you deserve!!!

[all-hail-the-witcher]

You guys are friendship goals how do you make internet friends saph

okay story time this is the progression of mine and @papesdontsellthemselves friendship (complete with pictures)

so once upon a time (actually it was november of last year) i was a Sad high school senior drowning my sorrows in my tumblr account as newsies royalty while i stressed over my college applications and auditions. most of my pastimes included 1. writing shitty fics 2. reading good fics and 3. listening to bad music from 2012. and i happened to stumble upon some newsies pics as one does by Someone called @papesdontsellthemselves or, as was listed in the bio “Mikey” 

nevertheless i binge read all of them at approximately 2am on a school night and probably fell asleep in ap euro the next morning. i very much liked his fics. they were slappy. and i started to stalk his account, as any normal person would.

and once or twice or several times, as any person who runs out of ideas does, he asked for prompt requests. and me, being a sad fangirl of this poor bois account, decided to send him some. (he still has one that he never answered) and he wrote a few of them. this one was my favorite go read it (i think i inspired this one) 

and then one day i opened my tumblr acc and THIS was waiting for me:

and i think i was like KJHSJHASLHJGDSLKH WH

then you know some time went by as time does and we sort of awkwardly coexisted. i actually was within like 10 minutes of him for a college audition before we knew each other that was pretty wild.

and then

the fateful day

i was sitting in ap stats, bored out of my mind, and decided to ignore the lesson on z scores or whatever it was cause what the fuck else are you supposed to do in ap stats and go on tumblr (seriously do not take ap stats its terrible, its an acid trip, i barely passed that class) and i had a message waiting for me from the one and only @papesdontsellthemselves that said something like:

“lol sorry to bother you chief but how to you put your tag lists on your pics so they dont take forever ooo sorry!!” 

and i was like ssksksksjskskjsk why is tumblr royalty @papesdontsellthemselves talking to me, a lowly peasant, and i may have freaked out for a hot sec but then i responded something like 

“i have it in a google doc and then hit the down arrow and the return key really fast lol”

(only recently he revealed to me that he didnt actually give a shit about my tag list (r00d) and that he just wanted an excuse to talk to me and That was what he came up with and he screamed after he sent the message cause he was so scared. also he was in theater with his weird shoeless teacher not paying attention. we’re good students i promise.)  

and then we got to Talking and we just didnt Stop talking? like i told him about jeff, my shitty english teacher and he told me about his theater teacher who made them do 9/11 shakespeare and we bonded and then we sent each other pictures of our dogs: 

mikeys dog, leela (aka leeks Big Chonk) ^^

my dog, lacey ^^

and we also went through The Awkward Stage

but then

a miracle happened

twas christmas eve, about like idk 3pm and the two of us were Awkwardly Conversing as awkward internet friends do and i was getting changed for christmas eve dinner (cause my family Extra and you have to be Fancy or face the Wrath of the Elders) and I'm digging through my closet looking for something Presentable when discover The Pencil Skirt. 

it twas a rather unsuspecting article, green wool with faint plaid stripes, and hand-me-down from some aunt, and i decided to put it on because i had limited fancy clothes and didnt wanna do a repeat from a previous year. so i added my One White Button Down Shirt and some black dance tights and called it a day. 

so then me, being me, was messaging mikey and said (keep in mind were still practically strangers and had been barely talking for a week):

“wow i actually look kinda hot right now like maybe someone would bang me. like, I'm not into that, but I look good enough that someone might consider it.”

yes

me, an asexual, said that to a total stranger on the internet.

what were you Thinking saph.

truly, i have no idea.

but for some reason, instead of being scared away (like a normal sane person should be) mikey laughed and we began calling each other daddy. i dont know okay, it was a wild experience. I'm not sure if it actually happened.

so, my skirt became The Daddy Skirt, a tragic symbol of our strange friendship, and the two of us exited the Awkward Stage.

truly it was an exciting time:

and then we gave each other nicknames. the sappy kind not the cursed kind. mikey was bean cause he was a coffee bean and cocoa bean addict. and i was originally shrub and then bear and finally peanut. im not sure why. he isn't either.

boi also Literally guessed my real name. like straight up. and i was like “o word.” it was trippy. 

AND THEN twas a cold february day when we decided to exchange faces. i send him a picture of me eating a christmas tree. he sent me a picture of him in his kitchen wearing sun glasses frat boy posing. truly iconic.

we also liked to look up weird things late at night and have revelations about dumb shit, as seen by these Unexplained Screenshots i have on my phone:

yes those are real screenshots

then we decided to finally talk on instagram instead of this hell site and i was exposed to mikeys finsta *shudder*

nothing much else interesting happened until: College *dun dun dunnnnnn* 

(except for that one time i had a mental breakdown at 1am and he drove home form some party to ig call me and tell me about the time his dog ended up in solitary confinement. a true g)

so for Safety Reasons, i finally gave milky my number when i got to school and we started texting and Facetiming which was a Trip.

i also sent him a Box of Cursed Content. he tried to send the box back to me in october and it still hasn't arrived. we think it may be in antarctica.

and then we tried to coordinate to meet up like three (3) separate times before We Got Lucky, the Stars Aligned, and we held hands in the back of an a&f

(we also hugged in a nordstrom in like the Fancy Clothes Section and the lady thought we were definitely dating cause we took pics of us hugging in the fuckin mirror pillar. also i almost lost my wallet but thats another story.)

and next year our wild journey will continue (hopefully) 

in conclusion i love mikey and this has been a sappy post

[rosegoldquintis]

T-shirt

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Reader                                                                

Word count: 1.5k (I haven't written this much in so long??)         

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, drunkness, swearing, me trying to write ‘angst’ and Luke being a D I C K, bad ending?

A/N: Based on T-shirt by gnash!!! This sucks but I haven’t posted in a while and idk what to do with this blog anymore gang.

Also here’s my MASTERLIST

Faded red, short sleeves

I can't forget the way you looked without your jeans on 

It's in my drawer and you're all I dream, so                                                       

I had to let you know you left it here with me

She couldn’t get the image out of her head. She tried and tried but nothing worked, so in the end she just gave up. He was still haunting her dreams and she was still deeply in love. He had just up and left one night when she confronted him about it.She had packed down everything that reminded her of Luke, everything except one shirt. It was a red button up which he loved seeding on Y/N. At first she didn’t remember why she left it hanging, so it wa soon forgotten. One day when she was cleaning out her closet which now seemed too big, she found it. It was hanging there, neatly beside her dresses and blouses.

“What are you doing to me Lu.” She said to herself as she held it in front of her. She picked up her phone and pressed the messages app, scrolled down and pressed the contact she was looking for. She started typing a message but before she pressed send she deleted all of it, closed the app and hung back the shirt.

It kills me to admit that I still want this bad

And I try to forget all the feelings I had

But each time that I look in my closet, I can't

'Cause I still got your t-shirt, do you want it back?

Sometimes Y/N would wear the shirt because she missed him, he was a big part of her life and she hated to admit it but she still loved him. Y/N had decided to get drunk on a Wednesday night because she was in pain. So here she was, after a couple of vodka shots and almost an entire bottle of wine, sitting in her closet and staring at that red fucking shirt. It had been almost a month since she found the red shirt hanging there. She would forget about the shirt and move on, but for the past week she found herself staring at the shirt. So tonight she grabbed her phone and looked through her contacts and when she came to the contact that read Lu❤️ she pressed call, after a few dial tones someone answered, the only problem was that it wasn’t her Luke who answered;

“Hello?” A woman's voice said

“Is Luke there?” Y/N whispered in a small voice.

“Who is this?” The woman asked, clearly very confused to why someone would call her lover at 1am.  

“Can you just give him the fucking phone.” Y/N spat, not understanding why she had to explain herself.

“Tell me who you are and I’ll tell him that you cal-” Before the woman could finish her sentence Y/N hung up. Around 20 minutes later her phone vibrated on the floor next to her, she looked down and unlocked her phone.

‘Why did you call Y/N?’ the text read

'Cause I still got your shirt, do you want it back?’

--

I gave you love and all you did was leave first

Then you told me that I shouldn't be hurt

I tried to hide it, but it couldn't be worse

You broke my heart and all I got was this t-shirt

Something 'bout the way I love you seems cursed

But I've learned karma tends to be a b-word

So, I hope you get everything you deserve

You broke my heart and all I got was this t-shirt

Y/N never feel out of love with Luke, but when she caught him cheating she understood that he had fallen out of love with her. At first he didn’t know that Y/N had caught him in the act, so he pretended that everything was the same, which wasn’t very hard since he had done that for almost 6 months.

One night when they were sat on the sofa in Y/N small flat she looked at the love of her life and accidently said; “How Long Lu?” Luke looked away from the TV and looked at his girlfriend.

“What do you mean baby?” Even when those words left his pretty lips he knew deep down what she meant.

“How long have you been cheating on me?” Luke’s body stiffened at those words and so many questions filled his head, like how long had she known and why she didn’t say anything until now.

“You shouldn’t be hurt you know.” He said, that made Y/N furious. How could she not be hurt? She had left almost everything behind just so she could be with the man in front of her.

“I think I'm going to go now Y/N.”

Those were the last words he said to her before he left her flat.

For the next days Y/N wandered around her flat, picking up things that he had left behind, putting gifts in boxes and she even threw away some things. When all his things were organized in a box she grabbed a black marker and in big letters she wrote ‘SOMETHING ABOUT THE WAY I LOVE YOU SEEMS CURSED, BUT I’VE LEARNED KARMA TENDS TO BE A BITCH. SO I HOPE YOU GET EVERYTHING YOU DESERVE’  The box was later shoved into a closet and soon forgotten about.

--

I'd burn it in a fire if I didn't know the smell

I'd bury it six feet deep if that would help

I'd hold onto it longer, but you don't like being held

So, I'd really like to see you so that maybe I could tell you

I gave you love and all you did was leave first

Then you told me that I shouldn't be hurt

I tried to hide it, but it couldn't be worse

She tried to get rid of the shirt so many times but she was never able to fully commit. In the end of their relationship Luke seemed to avoid Y/N at all costs. She thought that she had done something to upset him but that was clearly not the case. A week after they had broke up Y/N tried to call him a couple of times, she even texted him, she needed to see him and talk to him. It’s so hard to just let someone go after spending so much together.

But he didn’t want to be around her anymore, he wanted to be with everyone but her. Over the years Y/N had became good friends with the rest of the boys in the band but they seemed to avoid her as well.

Y/N had never been a petty person but she still went and did the last thing she thought she’d do. It was a saturday evening at around 9pm, the sun would soon start setting for the night and she had downed a few drinks because alcohol was her only source of comfort right now. She put on the red button up that had been hanging in her closet, she sat down in front of her big mirror that she had in her living room, she snapped a few good photos and before she could really process what was going on she had posted it on her instagram.

The picture had a warm glow from the setting sun and you could see that she was wearing the red shirt. The caption she chose to have with the photo took the price, it read;

“Then you told me that I shouldn't be hurt, I tried to hide it, but it couldn't be worse”

As soon as the comments came flooding in she turned them off, a while later she made her account private and around 2 days later she deleted her account. The only social medias she kept was her snapchat and her blog, she also kept her twitter but deleted the app from her phone.

You broke my heart and all I got was this t-shirt

Something 'bout the way I love you seems cursed

But I've learned karma tends to be a b-word

So, I hope you get everything you deserve

You broke my heart and all I got was this t-shirt

“Hi Lu, so uh. it’s me again, so i know that you’re probably just deleting these but.” She paused and hiccuped a couple of times.

“I just had to let you know that i still love you very much. but you should know that you’re probably cursed. Because all you did hurt me. A lot” She took a few deep breaths as the tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“So know that i love you very much but please keep in mind that karma is a bitch so i hope you get everything you deserve you pathetic idiot.” She looked at her closet and for the last time she took a few deep breaths and said:      “You broke my heart into a million pieces and all i got was your stupid fucking shirt.” Then she hung up her phone and threw it on the bed beside her. And for the first time in two months she let herself cry.

Tagging some cool people: @panimation @notexactlylegal @lilbabycalum @glitterprincelu @benhardymazzello @softforcal @mathildahilda @perriwiinkle @babyplutoszx2

[junghelioseok]

Not sure if ur taking req.This came to me as I read catharsis, I loved their friendship.Ur hired as a choreographer for the group, & ur in Korea on a work visa.JK just gets you like no one else does. You are bff, then it turns romantic.U keep ur relationship secret, & when U travel with the group he always sneaks to ur hotel room. He wants to take the relationship public, but u know the company will fire you, & you need your work visa to stay in Korea (to stay with JK). happy ending please. 😊

so i don’t take requests, sorry! however i have also been thinking about this idea nonstop since i got it so! i’m gonna not ignore it for once and lay out exactly what i would do if i did write it (which i refuse to actually do bc more jk ideas is the absolute last thing i need, lolol).

that being said, if any of my writer friends want to take this on, please do so!!! and tag me in the finished fic bc i would read the hell out of this shit. i fucking love this idea and i need it to come to fruition one way or another. (but like, obviously you should take it in whatever direction you see fit. please don’t feel the need to follow my outline, lmao.)

anyway, without further ado, here is my abbreviated version of this, ft. the frankly absurd, stream-of-consciousness way i plan every fic i write, ahaha. 

let’s get it!!!

you weren’t ready

you weren’t ready when the email from bighit came, asking for your help choreographing the dances for love yourself: answer

(you thought it was a joke, tbh)

you weren’t ready to get a korean work visa on such short notice

and you definitely weren’t ready to actually live and work in a different country

two years of college-level korean and a month’s worth of nightly cram classes couldn’t have prepared you for life in seoul

and no amount of researching bts - whether that was binging music videos or going over every dance practice vid or repeatedly listening to the albums - could have prepared you for your first meeting with the boys

tbh you kinda thought they’d be jerks, being so wildly popular and whatnot

but you couldn’t have been more wrong

one month into your time at bighit, and you finally understand the undying adoration army has for the boys

they’re just seven big soft nerds in stupidly handsome bodies

you’ve been subjected to hundreds of dad jokes, courtesy of seokjin, and plenty of clingy hugs from jimin

you’ve grown to love hobi’s screaming laughter and yoongi’s quiet grumpiness

but no matter how well you get along with all of the boys, nothing compares to your budding friendship with jeon jungkook

admittedly it’d taken a while for him to get comfortable enough to speak to you directly, especially when namjoon isn’t around to act as a translator

and likewise, it took a while for you to become accustomed to speaking korean every day

but once you both get past the language barrier, it’s like you’ve known each other your entire lives

you bond over your mutual love of dancing, of music and flow and rhythm

and watching him dance is a dream

every move is the perfect mix of grace and power, and he’s a joy to teach choreo to

hardworking and perseverant and more than a little bit of a perfectionist

but so are you, and that just means that you spend plenty of late nights in the studio together

working through the bits of choreography that just aren’t clicking yet

prepping for the upcoming ly tour

helping him with the choreography for euphoria

you were shocked when he approached you about his solo stage instead of sungdeuk, but you can’t say you weren’t pleased that he trusts you

and the first time you heard him open his mouth and sing euphoria in person, you were blown away

after that, you spend even more time together in the studio, long after the other boys and sungdeuk have left

late night after late night, dancing and laughing and ordering takeout at 1am when you’re both starving and need a break

one night you’re both hanging out in golden closet, snacking on ice cream and fried food you know you’ll regret later, listening to the setlist and talking big picture stuff for the ly tour 

and jungkook suddenly pauses the music and pulls up a new, different audio file

“um, i’ve been working on something and i was wondering if you wanted to listen to it?”

surprise, it’s his mixtape

it’s a work in progress - just a short collection of songs and a few random snippets that he admits he’s been working on for almost a year now

but every single one is so heart-wrenchingly lovely and emotional

your eyes may or may not well up a little during the last song - a soft, sentimental ballad that has you longing for something you didn’t know was missing in your life

“jungkook… this is beautiful”

“… i wrote it for you”

“…”

what are you gonna do, not kiss him?

lmao unlikely!

so you kiss him. a lot.

and then you do a lot more than that

you end up straddling him in his chair, your knees on either side of his thighs as his hands curl around your waist and find their way under the hem of your shirt

it’s sweaty and hurried and he tastes like the strawberry ice cream that he was just eating but it’s perfect nonetheless

afterward you are both in a happy haze, your head leaning on his shoulder as he strokes your back fondly

but then reality comes crashing back down

“jungkook, oh my god, we can’t do this!”

“but noona”

“but nothing! i’m only here temporarily, and if word gets out that we’re dating i’ll be fired!”

it’s so hard to tear your gaze from those pretty doe eyes when they’re staring up at you so beseechingly, but somehow you find the strength to wrench away from him and out of golden closet

you can still hear him calling for you as you run away, but you don’t turn back and he doesn’t chase you

needless to say, things are a little awkward from that point forward

you still see him every day at rehearsals

but you stop having one-on-one sessions with him late at night and tell yourself that it’s for the best

the other boys aren’t dumb; they notice that something is amiss straight away

but they don’t press too hard and you’re grateful for that

just days later, the international part of the ly tour starts and you are all jetting off to north america

by that point, it’s been almost a week and a half since you’ve spoken more than two sentences to jungkook

and you have no intention of changing that anytime soon

you can feel his eyes boring into you on the plane and in the car on the way to the hotel

but you escape to your hotel room and don’t see him again until dress rehearsal later that night

they’re running through the setlist, and you can’t help but admire how he looks in casual clothes

no one else could pull off a matching gray puma tracksuit, tbh

but he can, and he’s got the sleeves of his gray sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows to expose the rolex on his wrist

and his sweatpants are juuuust tight enough to show off the definition of his thighs

but! you’re a professional, and you can’t be looking at him with anything more than a critical eye so that’s what you do

even when he keeps glancing your way during euphoria

and stares right into your eyes as he nails the high note

afterward, you go onstage to give the boys your notes

you have a lot to say to hobi about just dance, and you can just feel jungkook’s hot gaze lingering on you the entire time

and then…

(thanks a lot for this shit, @puellaigmotum istg i have fucking nightmares about this bit of dialogue and it’s 10000% your fault)

… he corners you backstage

“noona, why are you paying so much attention to hobi-hyung… when i’m right here and ready to be on my knees for you”

he’s so close you can’t even fucking breathe by this point, his lips right at your ear and ruffling your hair with every word he speaks

when he begins kissing a trail along your jawline you finally regain control of your lungs 

and all you can manage is a shaky “jungkook, not here”

and you press the second copy of your hotel key into his hand

he comes over that night, of course

(and just like he promised, he does end up on his knees)

(head nestled between your thighs, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder to keep you spread open for him)

but a n y w a y

when you wake up in the morning, jarred awake by your alarm at far too early an hour, he is curled around you with one arm draped over your waist

he’s bleary and a little dazed and has the cutest bedhead you’ve ever seen

but when he sees you still in bed with him, his entire face splits into the brightest bunny smile

he pulls you in for a kiss and you could happily spend the rest of your life tucked away under the blankets there with him

but he’s got a concert to get ready for and both of you know it

the last rehearsal before the concert goes off without a hitch, and if anyone notices how you and jungkook are on good terms again, no one says anything about it

the concert is incredible. the boys smash it.

you are beaming when jungkook comes off the stage after his solo, ready with a bottle of water and a towel and plenty of congratulatory words

he beams right back, scooping you off your feet and twirling you in a full circle before putting you back down again

(his stylists are a little dismayed by the rumpled state of his clothes, but they can’t say much when namjoon destroys everyone’s outfits daily. they’re used to it.)

besides, all the staff can see just how happy he is around you

afterward, you all go out for a celebratory dinner, toasting to a successful tour kickoff

jungkook sits beside you and cracks inane jokes the entire time, and you spend the entire evening laughing your ass off with him

naturally, he finds his way back to your hotel room that night

and pretty much every night after, from la to hamilton to london

you’re in berlin when he first broaches the topic of taking your relationship public

“jungkook, we can’t! i’ll be fired!”

“no you won’t”

“how can you be so sure?”

“i’m negotiating my contract renewal right now, and i’m making sure that nothing prohibits me from dating. i want to be with you, noona.”

“but jungkook…”

“don’t you want to be with me?”

“yes, of course i do-”

“then that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”

he kisses you before you can speak again, and all your protests and arguments fly out of your head the moment his lips meet yours

the very next morning you agree to gradually make your relationship public, first to the other boys and then bang pd and the rest of the bighit staff

(most of them already knew though)

everyone’s happy for you, even the company higher-ups, because it’s so easy to see how happy jungkook is these days

(and like, lowkey, sungdeuk has already decided to spoil rotten any kids you may have in the future)

but no one is happier than you and jungkook

as soon as the tour ends, you extend your visa so that you can stay in korea longer with him

jungkook is yours and you are his, and life is good ♡

[farfromthstars]

annual writing self-evaluation

All answers should be about works published in 2018.

tagged by: @sarcathlon, thank you angela <3 <3

i. Optional if applicable: link to last year’s self evaluation:

N/A

1. List of works published this year (in the order that they were posted):

fallingforyou [hendes]

was hoping i could get lost in your paradise [hendes]

at the end of the road, i see you with me [ziall]

i don’t wanna pretend (that you’re only my friend) [nick x niall]

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear [ziall]

things you said when we were on top of the world [ziall]

things you said when you were drunk [hendes]

things you said when you were scared [nick x niall]

things you said that made me feel like shit [ziall]

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear [nick x niall]

things you said after you kissed me & things you said with no space between us [nessie]

things you said that slipped out while you were busy with something else [ziall]

things you said after you kissed me [ziall]

things you said when you were crying [nick x niall]

things you said too quietly [nick x niall]

things you said at 1am [ziall]

the best is yet to come [nick x niall]

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

i don’t wanna pretend (that you’re only my friend), because it was my first nick/niall fic and also the first longer fic i worked on in a while, even though i ended up posting it later in the year. plus, i just really like some of the things i wrote for it.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

i wouldn’t say i’m not proud of at the end of the road because it’s the longest thing i’ve written in years and i’m happy with large parts of it, but i’m a little disappointed with myself for having to abandon the big plans i had for it. idk, i wanted to do so much more than what i ended up with? so yeah, the whole writing process could’ve gone better. 

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

from i don’t wanna pretend (that you’re only my friend):

“Now kiss!” Liv shouts eventually, and Nick and Niall both freeze.

“Yes,” Jane agrees with her daughter though, “take one of those typical couple shots! That’ll be funny in your costumes!”

Liv’s gone over to chanting “kiss, kiss, kiss!” at them, and she’s somehow got a full glass of wine again. Niall bursts out laughing looking at her and then says to Nick, “Let’s just do it.”

“What?” Nick asks incredulously, then lowers his voice even more. “I promised you no snogging.”

“It’s just a little kiss,” he says, “if anything it’ll make us even more believable.”

“What are you waiting for?” Jane asks, and she’s now got a glass again too. “I’m growing roots over here!”

She and Liv cackle and clink glasses and Niall tells them, “he’s just shy in front of you guys! We’re doing it, right, Nick?”

“If you’re sure it’s okay,” Nick whispers, and Niall sighs deeply, grabs Nick’s face between his hands and pulls him into position.

“Yes, I told you,” he says, and closes the distance between them.

He knows immediately why this was a terrible idea. Nick’s lips soften under his, kissing him back, and his arms go around Niall’s back, pulling him closer.

Niall follows blindly, lifting up on his tiptoes and sliding one hand from Nick’s jaw to the back of his head, knocking his hat askew.

This was a terrible idea because Niall’s not gonna be able to stop thinking about this, never in his life, he’s sure of it. It was a terrible idea because he’s gonna want to do it again. Kissing Nick is everything Niall would’ve imagined if he’d ever allowed himself to imagine.

They pull apart, and Nick blinks at him for a few seconds before taking a step back. Niall’s dropped the impressive paper moustache he’d been holding in front of his face for the first few pictures at some point, even though he can’t remember when it happened. He swallows, then turns to Liv and Jane with a grin. “Got any good ones?”

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

oh, i genuinely love every single one of them, my heart literally jumps every time i get an email notification about a comment on one of my fics :’) @sarcathlon and @queerlyalex are particularly good at picking out things they liked which i LOVE, ao3 user musiciansfriend (who are youuu) comments on like everything i write and is just wonderful, but honestly? every comment is my favourite

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

most of it? lol (no but there was this time when i was unemployed and travelling lots for 3 months and every time i sat down to write there was just. nothing.)

7. A scene or character that you wrote that surprised you:

probably nick, actually. he’s made appearances in my fics before but never as a main character and it’s been so much fun figuring out how to write him

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

i hope i learn something new with everything i write but idk if i grew...maybe in my determination to write despite the writer’s block

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

finally move past the writer’s block that’s been hanging over my head for two years. improve my show-don’t-tell. write more unpredictably. 

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

well, @thinkimfromspace is the reason i finished my longest fic of the year, and @spaceziall is the best cheerleader i could ask for, @sarcathlon boosts my ego in the nicest way. every person who comments on fics or encourages me while i’m writing or when i’m gearing up to do so (includes headcanoning with @mustbeseeingblind @actualhumansunshine and @hiatusniall among others) has been a positive influence, and i wouldn’t be able to do it without you <3

11. Anything in your real life show up in your writing this year:

my anxiety almost inevitably shows up in all my niall characterisations, and maybe the uncertainty about the future in at the end of the road?

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

i don’t think i’ve ever had any wisdom to share skhfjd

13. Any new projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

always, and very rarely planned. i have a hendes AU in the works that i really want to finish, and everything else is probably just gonna happen someway. my inspiration strikes very randomly lol

14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read:

@spaceziall @hiatusniall and @theflicker, but also anyone else who writes and wants to do this

[alien-bodies]

whos this wanker

its me

Tagged by @gemvictorfromtheponyverse AND @the-deca, 2 FRESH pals bless thank

The real title is “get to know the blogger” but it’s 1am and I can’t copy more than 1 paragraph on mobile so I’m manually typin this bish!!! Gotta have fun!!!

name

ian

star sign

My mom went to the hospital 10 days past my due date and got labour induced bc I’d been in there TOO long it was TIME to GET OUT. Incidentally this was the last day of Taurus and 16 hours before Gemini began. Make of that what u will

height

In this house we round it up to 5’3”

put ur Spotify on shuffle and say the first 4 songs that show up

I share this account with my mom so I’m cheating ok we get

Frame of Mind by Tristam

Choke by IDKHBTFM (i am NOT typing that shit out are u kidding me)

Hit and Run by LOLO (HEY it’s me from the future where I finished this post. This has been stuck in my head for 20 minutes but I’m TURNT so it’s fine but also I have class in 8 hours so it’s not fine)

Dear Wormwood by The Oh Hellos (HEY again. This song for REAL showed up on shuffle I wasn’t lyin in that book question lower down This Really Exists get on my level)

have u ever had a poem or song written about you?

KIND OF YES ok I post on Facebook relentlessly and one time my dad was late coming home bc whatever and dinner was shrimp fettuccine alfredo like UHHHH YUM so I posted “Make haste father / We must partake of the shrimp fettuccine / Make haste” and my friend who makes music (goodnightgirl on Bandcamp) made a song of it bc she was so inspired I was HONOURED

when was the last time you played the guitar?

In grade 9 social studies class we had an assignment that was to make an album cover and track list about the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms and at the time I wanted to go into film and other Tech Stuff so instead of doing something fuckin normal like writing down “Jingle My Equality” in coloured pencil and calling it a day I kept working over winter break and wrote and recorded 8 songs including the whack-ass instrumentation using only a headset, my laptop, and Audacity. The last couple days of winter break I tried to learn some guitar cords to try and make it sound at least a little alright but I absolutely did not sing in any real key I just fucked around in my closet so that fell through real quick and the strongest instrument backup went to random tooting on my mom’s recorder

I never picked up a guitar again and those songs haunt me to this day

celebrity crush

We All Gay For Jodie Whittaker This Season

a sound you hate and a sound you love

I passionately hate when my neighbour operates his leaf blower

I love the ping sound the custom bot makes during a word war in my regional NaNoWriMo group chat, it triggers something nice and good in my brain bc it always happens when I’m writing words and having fun so even when I think the sound. I’m Good

do you believe in ghosts?

only when I’m on the clock bc my manager can see ghosts and says our Hot Topic is haunted and who am I to argue with that

aliens?

dude hell yeah

do you drive?

dude hell nah

last book you read?

fuckin. I read The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis

I’d elaborate but that’d take longer to explain than the guitar story, so TL;DR gay analysis plus folk fanfiction album

worst injury you’ve had?

My friend broke my arm in grade 4 when we went tubing at a birthday party because she’s a speed demon and fell on top of it

any obsessions rn?

H

Don’t @ me

do you try to hold grudges against people who have wronged you?

This is such a weird questionnaire first of all, second of all like no I don’t try but there’s one fucker out there,,, hey brxen.prxnce if u reading this block me on ravelry bitch (theres no k because theyre a doofus plain and simple)

in a relationship?

I sure ain’t but i got some dank fic recs hmu

That’s a wrap I’m tagging anyone who read this and understood what “Dear Wormwood” was referencing and/or if you’ve watched an episode of TJLCE those are tonight’s moods thank you goodnight

[tinypurpleparrot]

Fanfiction Writer Asks

Fuck it, I’ll do it myself, because I know I can’t count on you nerds to actually ask anything. :p

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction?

I really don’t know. I’ve been writing creatively since I was like 6. I don’t really remember writing for fandom until Pokémon, but I’ve been in fandom since the original Sailor Moon and Ronin Warriors/Samurai Troopers.

 2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

I guess the Yogscast. Except I only really like a few of them, and it sure as shit isn’t the main channel people. I haven’t found a new obsession because I can’t sit still for tv anymore, and I’m a patient gamer/reader. So once I find something I like, it’s probably old and everyone’s already moved on.

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

OCs. I am boring, shy (and thus no fun), and quite good at ruining the moment.

 4) What is your favourite genre to write for?

Action/Adventure. Fight scenes. Getting out of dire as fuck situations. Underdogs.

 5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi chaptered stories, which would it be and why?

I have so many… XP I guess a story I wrote in called Royal Infamy. It was literally hundreds of pages long, spanned at least 4 different fandoms, and could’ve been a standalone series if I just changed the names. Unfortunately it’s been lost to the ooooolllllddddd (and I mean 2001) internet. I like to think that maybe it’s on some ancient server, saved by those sorts of people who try to archive the entire internet and have literal exabytes of hoarded data. It was also how I met my SO of 13 years.

 6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

A Prince of Persia fic. I don’t even like Prince of Persia.

7) When is your preferred time to write?

I never get as much inspiration as when it’s 1am and I’m supposed to be going to bed like a normal person. But never at a normal hour in the evening unless I’m inspired at work and have to rush home before I forget.

 8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

It used to be from all the anime I used to watch, now it’s cobbled together from fantasy books and video games.

 9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote?

Like erotic fic? Eeeh. I’m so terrible at it that I literally only have one, I’m writing it right now, I’m not finished, and I don’t particularly like it because I keep subconsciously writing away from the part where they hold hands because I’m conflicted and discomforted by the whole thing, to be honest. Like, even when I was adolescent and supposed to be thirsty as teenagers are, I just wasn’t and couldn’t. My ex tried to get me to write something for him, and I still couldn’t do it. *shrug* It doesn’t help that I’ve never been big on shipping. …Those characters sure are standing next to each other, yep.

 10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind?

Hahah… endings. That’s good. (Also see previous question.)

 11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

Not that I can recall, unless you count ‘stop doing that thing’, ‘okay’ *does it more*

 12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

Rythian. Fuckin’ edgelord. Just everything about him and his OC is *kisses fingers*.

 13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?

Unfortunately Rythian is usually entangled with other people from the Yogscast. :p

 14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx?

Current project doesn’t even have a title, that’s how non-committed I am to it (she says even though it’s fast approaching a novelette.)

 15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names?

If it’s an OC of a particular universe, there’s probably a naming convention, and I go by many names. If it’s just generic freestanding story, I keysmash and pick through it until it rolls off the tongue.

 16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx?

Classic ‘rivals who hide their sexual tension behind their distaste for one another.’

 17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

“I haven’t seen your face since when you first came back from The End. And the … incident with trying to rid you of your curse.” He chuckled. “I’ve actually seen a lot more than your scars.”

 18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Like 75% of my work is abandonware. I have ADHD, I get bored, and I usually take so long, the fandom “dies” before I can finish. And the moment is gone.

 19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

Royal Infamy. And make it mine this time.

 20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

Probably Royal Infamy.

 21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

Ilona Andrews. Her style is exactly what I aim for. …Okay maybe not the monster fucking, but the rest of it. Exciting, tense, a little bit scary.

 22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

The Prince of Persia fic. The first draft of the erofic. The weeb crack.

 23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

Silence. My brain goes 100% towards analyzing music and then I can’t focus on anything else.

 24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

Eeeeeeehhhhhh *whines* I don’t wanna…

 25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

Nope. I don’t write that kind of pain.

 26) Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write?

The part where these two people who’ve tried to murder each other could even reasonably be in each other’s presence, let alone fuck. Also eternal hatred for evasive genital description brought on by a broken, puritan society.

 27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?

I should start making outlines. My current three projects keep going off the rails.

 28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?

To go in with no expectations of people ever responding let alone giving feedback to anything. You’re just tossing shit in a hole and for every ton, one flower might grow.

 29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

I did a thing about how Lalnable Hector created Echo, and *crickets*.

 30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Twenty years later, I still get emails about a fic I wrote about Birdy the Mighty (C-tier anime about a dead boy soul-sharing an intergalactic cop’s body.)

 31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec not the answerer)

-

32) Are any of your characters based on real people?

Other than putting slivers of wish fulfillment in, no.

 33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

Someone found a fic I wrote in two weeks in an archive over 20 years old and sent me kudos. Like, that shit should’ve been buried. But they found it.

 34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

Mary Sue. And you’re goddamn right she was. And I’ll fucking do it again.

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

Nope, not for fear or anything, I just don’t think to share before it’s done because I’ll probably abandon it anyway.

 36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?

You’ll be unsatisfied with the ending.

 37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written?

You fucking made me open one of my old Gundam Wing crack fics to check. Now I don’t know because I’m still cringing.

 38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.

*shrug* Like… I haven’t done a collab in *checks calendar* 17 years. I don’t have any live fandoms. I’m not big on trying to meld with other people’s styles.

 39) Do you prefer first, second or third person?

Third.

 40) Do people know you write fanfiction?

No.

 41) What’s your favourite minor character you’ve written?

Can’t think of one. I usually don’t have minor/background characters?

 42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song xxx for xxx.

…Okay, now I seriously can’t tell if xxx means erotic or a particular example. 😐 Anyway, I for some reason lost the ability to link songs to fics/personalities. I just don’t think of any particular person when I hear a song and vice-versa.

 43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it?

That would imply enough people cared.

 44) What is the last line you wrote?

Despite the queen pushing him, he couldn’t move even if he wanted to (which he didn’t.)

 45) What spurs you on during the writing process?

If I don’t fucking do this it’s going to bother the fuck out of me for weeks, even if I don’t finish. Just get it on paper so it goes away.

 46) I really loved your xxx fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it?

More action and intrigue.

 47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made up title. What would this story be about?

 -

48) What’s your favourite trope to write?

The antagonist finds the protagonist’s berserk button and realizes that maybe they should not have pushed it.

 49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

I can’t remember fics I wrote. And shit, that was at least 23 years ago. (She says even though she can perfectly remember her first fantasy novel 30 years ago. (The Gammage Cup))

 50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Angst. I think. I’ve gotten good feedback from my more serious stuff.

[renrutnnej]

I never wanted to be a mother

Oh boy, the miracle of birth and whatnot!

I’m really bad at absolutes. For example, as long as I can remember I’ve told people I never wanted to be a wife or a mother. As a little girl I remember looking at both jobs and being like, “Nah.”

My daughter was not my first pregnancy. The first time I was en-wombed was in university and I was a freshman who in the short span of six months time was sexually assaulted, and entered into a volatile physically and emotionally abusive relationship. Because of some mental health problems and a total lack of self esteem, I didn’t see either of these things in their correct light, I just thought my first year away from home was a real education in female adulthood.

Fortunately my first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage. Is it weird or wrong to say that? I don’t think so. I was 19 and had already chipped a front tooth from being punched in the face by my boyfriend. So when I think about that time in my life, I don’t feel any guilt. Also I didn’t know I was pregnant until it was too late and what I thought was the worst period of my life was actually a miscarriage.

This gave me the impression that my physical person was a hostile environment to children. It proved that I knew I could and would not be a mother, ever.

—

To talk about my daughter’s birth, I have to set the stage, which in retrospect I’ve always described as an unfortunate series of events, but now I realize fully how incomplete and lacking in good substance my life would have been without her. I have to look at these events as exactly the way things were supposed to happen.

First, I could not find a writing job out of college (I graduated with a degree in English literature, lucrative I know). All of my self esteem issues came to a head and I resigned myself to the fact that I had been posing in college as a person with ambition when really I was going to end up staying a small town person working retail or as another’s administrative assistant or something.

Second, my sister graduated from college the following year and decided to move to Las Vegas. Through zero seconds of trying to convince me I decided to come along. Also our parents were already living there (they had moved while we were both in university).

This new start inspired me and I decided to do something completely different with my life. I was going to change the world by joining the Peace Corps. Whoa, except that stipend does NOT even come close to covering my credit card bills and student loans. Umm, backup plan, I was going to change the world by teaching English in South America, somewhere like Argentina or something. In the meantime I had to save up for this adventure so I took the first job I could, in retail.

Third, sexism has pissed me off for a long time. Growing up tomboy really instilled an (arguably ignorant) type of jealous competitiveness in me. Anything they can do, I can do better, or in the very least I can do it too. So when my male peers (retail managers) were having relationships with younger employees, I decided to too. I’m a modern woman, and cougars were like definitely a thing by then. I started hooking up with a very hot, barely legal (but also very legal), sales associate.

Next, in a few months time my sister moved to Seattle and my parents moved back to Washington state. They moved me into my own apartment on Warm Springs and back home to Richland in the same weekend. Finally I was a modern woman living in Las Vegas, with her lifelong companion cat (i.e., cat I picked out when I was 6 years old) Beauty, making it happen.

Just kidding, I got pregnant.

—

Getting pregnant a second time was a complete shock. And by that I mean, I thought it was impossible. As in, not even within the realm of possibility.

I’d been having some lady troubles for sometime and since my sister had had Exorcist level kidney stone problems I went to the doctor right away for fear. The doctor confirmed what I had known since I was 19. Well, almost. She said it appeared that my symptoms might be an indication that I was infertile. Twenty-four year old me: duh. But they still had to run the tests.

Getting pregnant brought intricate complexity and mind-numbing simplicity to my life. Having to tell the parents of my 18 year old (now boyfriend, ugh) that I was pregnant was terrifying. Having to tell my parents, worse.

No more changing the world.

No more Argentina.

No more writing.

No more freedom.

I had just fast tracked my path to wife and mother by being a “modern woman” making things happen.

No more infertility, what the hell?

And since this was clearly a miracle baby, getting rid of her never once entered my mind. This was obviously a baby Jesus type situation.

We moved from Vegas to Kansas City with his family. To say it politely, my parents weren’t pleased by my condition and the distance did us both a lot of good (I told myself). His family, on the other hand, were very happy and excited by the baby’s coming. At least they always gave the very genuine appearance of being so. I was less excited.

Actually I was the most depressed I’d been in my life at that point. I knew my body was a hostile place to fetuses so what the heck!?

I absolutely could not imagine the whole exit strategy of my situation. Instead I imagined death.

I took lots of time to myself and wrote pages and pages of tear-stained journals I can’t bear to read now. I slept as much as I could. I was mourning my death while I was still alive, growing a life inside of me.

Also I had to get rid of my cat, what the fuck.

—

I knew I was never meant to be anyone’s mother and so I was positive I would carry this baby to term and die during labor, and she would be cared for by this warm and loving family. And I would die young like I’d always predicted. Well, youngish.

My OBGYN became worried by my morbid questions about death rates.

I refused to have a baby shower or anything resembling a baby shower because I couldn’t imagine celebrating the event that was going to kill me.

My lamaze class teacher asked me stop asking questions about worst case scenarios because I was scaring the other mothers.

—

Working in retail brought about what I felt to be appropriate levels of shame and self-hatred.

Strangers, assuming me to be much younger than I was, made completely hideous comments about me and my baby, and my education (lol, right). I was constantly touched and given advice by strangers, interrogated regularly.

My retail district was close to a particularly violent one regarding shoplifters. Other managers in my store had been maced or stabbed with the tools shoplifters brought into stores to break off the security tags. One day I found the equivalent of a shiv in the front room of my store and went into the stockroom and had a complete mental and emotional break down imagining approaching the wrong customer just one time.

I felt I deserved this, though it enraged me. This was my penance.

My hormones surged. I snuck as many drinks of wine at family dinners as I could. (Sorry baby, but red wine is delicious). I had nightmares about delivering babies with heads shaped like deflated basketballs, or delivering piles of bloody guts. I obsessed over my single friends awesome lives (aka highlight reels) on Facebook.

It made me bitter that I had to die. I became resentful of my baby’s father, even though he tried his best with me. He wanted to marry me and have more kids, be a dad. I knew she’d be okay. Hopefully he’d marry someone who wasn’t anything like me or that evil stepmom bitch in Cinderella.

I’d end up letting him name her. I chose her middle name, Violet.

—

It began one Sunday night, after a large steak dinner (with red wine) at his parents. I kept feeling like I had to poop really bad every twenty minutes. It was so bad that I couldn’t sleep. By 1am I was on the toilet trying to push steak out and when I saw drops of blood, I freaked out. IT’S TIME! I screamed.

He sprung into action. What do we bring? Spoiler alert, I hadn’t even packed a “go” bag because I never planned on coming back.

We listened to Jason Mraz on the short drive to the hospital. God, this is the last song I’m ever going to hear. I focused on the words and tried to clear my mind of pushing all of my guts out.

When we got to the hospital, they did some tests and I wasn’t far enough along. Maybe this is a fake out, and I can go home and go to bed. No, the nurse told me, you’ll progress it just takes a little time.

Another nurse came in and did a quick ultrasound to see the baby’s position. Her tone worried me, looks like this one’s a breach baby. You’ll have to adjust your birthing plan. Just knock me out, I sighed. Oh oops, those are the baby’s shoulders. I thought it was her butt. She was low and engaged, and I was fine. That fucking nurse.

So he walked me around the hospital corridors while I had the worst cramps of my life. I tried not to cry.

This is how it ends, me alone in the hospital, out in the midwest, without any of my friends or family, with this kid, and this other kid inside me.

Around 4am I finally reached a point where I could get pain meds and this other drug that would help my labor progress while I was medicated, but first they had to break my water. I was terrified of any more pain. They showed me what looked like a knitting needle that they’d insert to break the membrane. The nurse assured me, her name was Bridget by the way, that it was painless. I sobbed. Couldn’t they just knock me out. My knees clamped shut and I couldn’t keep from trembling.

But it was painless and suddenly I was sitting in a puddle of what just felt like warm pee. That was it, water broken. I felt like an idiot. The drugs came quickly after that and by 5am I had progressed to the point that I could get the one thing that was keeping me going through this whole ordeal: an epidural.

The anesthesiologist came in and sat me perpendicular to the gurney. He told me to sit still because he was putting a needle the length of a ruler down my spine. But the painkillers really got to me and I had to crack jokes about how the only thing separating my naked body from the doctors and nurses in that room was a piece of paper gown. My boyfriend looked white. I was already stoned.

Afterward, I was finally comfortable, and I drifted off to sleep quickly. Bridget came in once an hour on the hour and put her whole hand in my vagina to see how far down the head was. I didn’t like being woken up but I couldn’t really feel anything and Bridget was my best friend at that point.

Around 10:45am things picked up. My baby’s dad was downstairs eating breakfast with his family when Bridget told me I’d need to call him, I was almost at 10 centimeters. He came back with his mom and Bridget told me now when I felt the urge to push to do it.

I didn’t want to poop on the table and I couldn’t get up to like clear things out before I labored a baby so I gave some weak ass pushes. Bridget could tell.

I gave one hard push and she exclaimed, JUST LIKE THAT! But I saw his face and I knew I had pooped. The shame. But again, I was stoned so meh.

Strangely I had turned down the floor length mirror at the foot of the bed because I didn’t want to see myself die, but if the end was coming I really didn’t want to see it.

“Bridget can you take off your glasses? With the lights and everything I can see my vagina and I really just can’t right now.”

She did.

With his mom video recording the monumental eruption and destruction of my vagina, my first child was born at 11:25 am. The doctor, I don’t know when she showed up (?), put the blue, guts covered baby on my chest.

She was out. I had tried not to picture her before because I never wanted to let myself go down that road in my mind.

I looked at her. She looked at me. She was gross. But she was an alive thing with eyes who looked at me. She looked like she’d been freezing (she was blue) in bloody Cream of Wheat. Also she had pooped in utero and that was everywhere, super great.

I had nothing profound to say, so I said, “Oh my god, a baby.”

Then they whisked her away to clean her up and do all the baby tests. Everyone else left too.

My body got overtaken with waves of pregnancy hormones coursing through me while I delivered the placenta and my whole body convulsed as the pregnancy hormones left me. NO, I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THE PLACENTA. Jesus.

The doctor began to clean up the volcanic eruption where my lower lady parts used to live. I knew I had felt a slight burning sensation during the birth, but I didn’t know it was a tear. I simply thought it was the slight onset of death.

It didn’t make sense to me that I was alive.

I had no plan for this. I didn’t even bring a nightgown.

Now what?

—

As of the time of my pregnancy, I can’t recall seeing any birth or pregnancy narratives that highlighted feelings like fear, depression, or general reservations without framing them them as fleeting blue aspects of an otherwise golden soft lit scenario. That’s not real life. I’m sharing my story, because even though I was certainly depressed, I don’t know that my feelings of doubt at the sudden onset of potential motherhood are all that uncommon.

When I share my true feelings and experience with friends, I often hear that other women are relieved by my candor. Dutiful, knowing mother is a trope to which I do not subscribe, and frankly, doesn’t reflect my experience at all. So I’m offering my story as just one against the many almost romantic Disney-esque birth and pregnancy stories. My daughter and I did not live happily ever after, and our relationship, just like any other, is one that has required hard work and patience (a lot of patience) but we’re both better for it.

This story originally appeared on Medium, April 3, 2016.

[anerdysouthernbelle]

In Case You Didn’t Know

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7qaHdHpSjX8

Here is something I decided to write cause it’s like 1am here and I’m trying to get back into writing (those of you that requested something from me, I apologize so much and I will get those as soon as I can. This is something to shake the rust off a bit.

Okay, so we all know Pete isn’t exactly expressive (except when he’s murdering someone lol), so I thought this song would fit this. This is “In Case You Didn’t Know” by Brett Young. Yes, I realize this is a country song but I find country music says things you didn’t know they could. 

Fluff, Smut

Tagging:   @wwesmutdonedirtcheap  @wrasslesmut  @hiitsmecharlie basically anyone that’s a Pete Dunne fan 

Word Count: 3583

(I didn’t add a name or details for the OC, and that’s because I want you guys to imagine yourselves for it, hence the reference of she/her)

“There, that should do it,” Pete said as he made the final touches on his surprise for her. He hoped she loved it because he usually didn’t do things like this – it wasn’t that he refused to, it was just he didn’t know how to express his feelings. He knew the feeling of aggression well and could express that like no one else could but this? No, this was odd to him but she made him feel things he didn’t know he could. There was a knock on the door and he looked up. He exhaled slowly as he adjusted the collar on his shirt and took one last look at the elegantly set table. He walked over to the door and opened and a smile spread over his face when he saw her.

God, she’s gorgeous, he thought.

“Hi,” she said as she kissed him on the cheek.

“Hey,” he replied.

“So what’s the occasion? You don’t usually dress up – or invite me to dinner,” she said with a lilting laugh that gave him a warm, tingling feeling in his body.

“I have something I wanted to say and I didn’t know how else to do it,” he told her in his thick accent.

“Hmm. This should be fun,” she replied as she walked in. She gasped as she saw the beautifully laid table, complete with candles and a vase of her favorite flowers – calla lilies.

“You did this. For me?” she wanted to know. He nodded sheepishly.

“Pete, you’re wonderful,” she whispered as she kissed him again, this time on the lips. Pete pulled her closer as he cradled the back of her head with his callused hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist. He moaned as she nipped at his lip and he knew he had to break the kiss because otherwise, they’d never make it to dinner.

“Aww, I was enjoying that,” she mock-whined with a devilish pout.

“Ah, I know, petal. But I want you to eat first,” he told her, jerking his head towards the table.

“Will you be dessert, then?” she asked with a wink.

“That depends on if you’re a good girl,” he whispered in her ear.

“Only for you, my love,” she whispered back.

Pete turned her around and led her to the table, where he pulled out her chair. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her and he knew he wanted her but he just didn’t know the right way to tell her.

“I know you liked wine, so I got you a bottle. Is that alright?” Pete asked once they sat down.

“Alright with me. Sure you don’t want a glass?” she asked once she took her glass that he filled up for her. He gave her one of his trademark sneers which made her laugh.

“I’m kidding, Pete.”

“I know. I also cooked dinner for you and yes, I added non vegan products.”

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me. Really. You didn’t,” she said as she reached for his hand. He took her hand and rubbed it with his thumb.

“I know, but I needed to. I…” he trailed off. She put her wineglass down and cocked her head.

“What is it?”

“Can we at least start eating first? Please? I can’t think without food.”

She rolled her eyes and took her hand from his.

“Okay, fine. You weirdo. We’ll eat.”

That earned her a smile.

“You know, when you smile, you’ve got the best smile. I want you to smile more,” she told him.

“Nah. Then I wouldn’t be the Bruiserweight and what good would that do?” he quipped as he took a drink of water.

“Fine. Will you smile more for me, then?”

“Of course. Only for you, though.”

They ate in silence for a while, but Pete just couldn’t stop looking at her. She was so different from him – for one, she was American. She also wasn’t a vegan, as evidenced by her tearing into a steak that he grilled for her alone. Sometimes, he didn’t know why she put up with him – he was moody and he beat people up for a living. 

“I can’t count the times

I almost said what’s on my mind

But I didn’t

Just the other day

I wrote down all the things I’d say

But I couldn’t

I just couldn't”

They finished their dinner and while Pete was putting the dishes in the sink – at his insistence because she kept wanting to help him clear away the table – she was drinking her second glass of wine, taking him in and wondering why he picked her. He was pretty famous in his home country of England and there was no doubt he had women falling over him trying to get his attention. She bit her lip and smiled to herself as she remembered him asking her out for the first time; the way he tripped over his words and the way he kept glancing at her nervously. She found the whole thing hilarious because she knew what he did for a living and she thought his whole rough and tumble persona was just that – a persona and there was actually a soft, kind man underneath the callused hands and the semi-permanent sneer that was fixed on his lips.

“Okay, those are done,” Pete announced.

“Ah, good! Now you can tell me what it is you wanted to say.”

“You wanna go sit down?” he asked, pointing towards his sofa.

“Sure.”

They walked over to his couch, where she promptly kicked off her heels and placed her legs into his lap. He started massaging her feet and calves, which elicited a soft moan from her.

“That feels amazing,” she said softly.

“Good. Okay, I’m ready. I think,” he whispered nervously. She put her now empty glass down and leaned closer to him.

“Baby I know that you’ve been wondering

Mmm, so here goes nothing”

“What is it?” she asked as she pushed back a lock of blonde hair that had fallen in his face.

“I… I love you. I’m fucking crazy about you. I just… I’m not great at these things but I needed to tell you. Like, I have to tell you this. Everything about you drives me fucking insane but I want it. I want… I want you,” he said, almost in a rush.

“In case you didn’t know

Baby I’m crazy bout you

And I would be lying if I said

That I could live this life without you

Even though I don’t tell you all the time

You had my heart a long long time ago

In case you didn’t know”

She was absentmindedly stroking his hair and she stopped when she heard his confession.

“Pete,” she whispered.

He looked at her expectantly as he bit his lip.

“S-say something?”

She said nothing but in response, she leaned over and kissed him softly. She ran her hand through his hair as she kissed him and he was so taken aback that his arm stopped in midair before finally wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer to him. He could feel her heart beat picking up pace and his beginning to match it. He moved to lay down on the couch, stretching out his legs but keeping a firm hold on her so that she didn’t fall off.

After a while, she came up for air and laid her head on his chest. He stroked her hair as he struggled to find the words.

“You’re… awfully quiet, love. Did I say something wrong?” Pete whispered.

She looked up at him and smiled.

“Not at all, baby. In fact, I’m glad you said that. I… I love you too.”

Pete let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“The way you look tonight

That second glass of wine

That did it

There was something bout that kiss

Girl it did me in

Got me thinking

I’m thinking”

“I know. It’s just nice to hear the words. Especially when I don’t know how to say them and don’t say them all the time.”

“It’s okay, Pete. I know you have to keep up appearances but you know you can let down your guard with me. It’s okay,” she murmured.

“You’ve got all of me  I belong to you Yeah you’re my everything”

“I want to. I’m trying to, love. I… just don’t know how to.”

“Let me help you, then.” 

Pete looked at her with questioning eyes and all he got in response was a devilish grin. He moved his hands until they were resting on her hips and he looked up at her.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered as she leaned down to kiss him slowly and passionately. Pete moaned and tightened his grip on her hips while she reached for his shirt to start unbuttoning it. Once she had it unbuttoned all the way, she spread her hands out across his broad torso and slid it off. Pete sat up to help take it off and then reached for the back of her dress. He fumbled with the zipper as he littered her neck and shoulders with kisses and small nibbles. She leaned away from him to finish taking off her dress and he stared at her with hungry eyes. She bit her lip as she held his gaze.

“Like what you see?” she murmured seductively.

“You have no idea,” he growled as he leaned over to kiss her, this time more roughly. He bit her lip, eliciting a moan from her which in turn, made him groan. He gripped the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her soft hair as he slid his tongue in her mouth and kissing her as roughly and hotly as he could. She dug her nails into his broad shoulders as she moaned louder this time. He took his free hand to hook her leg and pull it up around his waist.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous, darling,” he groaned as he made his way down to her chest. He made quick work of her lacy bra and he began to kiss her heaving breasts while she moaned his name.

“Pete!” she cried out when she felt his teeth bite her breast. He kissed the spot then slowly started to lick her nipple while his other hand was squeezing and playing with her other breast. He grazed his teeth over one pert nipple while he pinched the other, making her squirm underneath him. He switched over as she continued to squirm under him.

Once he had had his fill, he came back up to kiss her again.

“Sit up,” Pete commanded. She did as she was told and she watched in anticipation. Pete pulled her closer to him so that she was on the edge of the couch and he spread her legs apart.

“Ooh. What are you planning, Mr. Dunne?” she wanted to know as she ran her hands through his now messy hair. Pete looked up and flashed her a wolfish grin.

“You’re about to find out, sweetheart,” was his reply as he made her matching lace boyshorts disappear.

“Eyes on me,” he said sharply. She kept her eyes on him as he took one callused hand and spread her lips apart and pressed his thumb against her clit. He rubbed it enough to make her moan his name and then he slid one finger inside her, making her gasp.

“Ahh,” she moaned. Pete slid his finger back out and then in quickly. He then added another finger, keeping the same pace.

“P-Pete…” she gasped out as she reached for his free hand. He obliged as he laced his fingers with hers, never taking his eyes off her or breaking his pace.

“You feel so good,” he whispered. He leaned in to kiss her stomach and thighs as he kept working his fingers in and out of her now wet pussy. He bit the sensitive skin on her inner thighs, making her gasp and cry out.

“I… I want…” she said breathlessly. Pete glanced up at her and whispered,

“What do you want?” as he kept his languid pace. “Tell me.”

“I want… your mouth.”

“Where, sweetheart?”

“Where… where your fingers… are.”

“Oh? What’s the magic word, darling?” he murmured as he kissed slowly and ever closer to where his fingers were.

“Please!” she squeaked.

Pete stopped his fingering then. He bit her other thigh, eliciting another moan from her lips.

“Okay. But first you gotta do something for me,” he said.

“Anything,” she told him.

“Kiss me.” She leaned down to kiss his lips; he then slid one wet finger in between her lips.

“Suck it clean,” he told her. She obliged happily, sucking his finger until it was dry. Once it was done, Pete took the other finger and slipped it into his mouth, watching her as he did so.

“You taste pretty good,” he remarked after he took his finger out of his mouth.

“Yea?” she said. She motioned for him to come closer. “Keep tasting,” she whispered as she brought his head closer to her outstretched legs.

Pete bit his lip and then put his head between her legs. He enthusiastically went to work, licking and sucking on her clit. He gripped her thighs to steady himself as he kept licking her.

“Ahh! Pete! Ohh, god, you feel amazing,” she moaned as gripped the back of his head. Pete slipped a finger back in and began working in tandem with his skilled tongue, making her buck her hips and writhe in pleasure on the couch. She could feel her heart pounding against her chest and she didn’t know how much more she could take.

Pete kept up this tandem for a little while, at least until he felt her tensing up.

“You’re not ready, now, are ya darling?” he whispered teasingly as he licked her wet thighs.

“I…”

“You what?”

“Want…”

“Want what?” Pete asked as he kept fingering her, this time going a little faster. He nibbled on her thighs as she cried out. She arched her back as she felt her first climax rip through her.

“Ah, there we go,” he whispered against her leg. He slowly kissed his way back up her body, making sure to leave little bites here and there until he reached her mouth.

“Darling, you feel…” he kissed her. “… and taste amazing.”

“I want you… inside me,” she told him once she caught her breath.

“Oh, you do?”

She nodded. Pete looked at her coming apart as he contemplated this. He had been wanting this all night since she walked in wearing his favorite dress and he couldn’t keep himself from imagining tearing her clothes off and fucking her senseless on the table, dinner be damned.

“How bad?” he whispered in her ear before nipping the earlobe.

“Bad.”

Pete reached down between her legs to slip his fingers back in, which made her moan his name.

“Tell… me,” he said, punctuating his words with the movement of his fingers.

“Please fuck me!” she screamed out.

“Good girl.” Pete slid his fingers out of her and sat on the couch next to her. He ran his eyes over her, taking her in and a slow grin spread over his face. He bit his lip as he reached for his boxers, which he quickly slid off.

“You’re just now taking your boxers off?” she asked.

“Didn’t wanna rush.”

She reached over to take his hard cock in her hand and she slowly went up and down, making him moan a little. She watched his head fall back and his mouth open in short gasps as she moved her hand up and down.

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” he growled. She stopped long enough to adjust herself in his lap. He sat up and saw her in his lap and grinned.

“I suppose you want me to fuck you now?” he asked.

“Of course. Well, not yet,” she told him.

“Not yet? What do you mean?” he growled, gripping her hips.

“Got a condom?”

“Oh. Yea. Look in my pants down there,” he told her.

“You always keep a condom in your pants, Pete?” she asked as she got off his lap to get his pants. Her position made her ass a prime target and Pete bit his lip before delivering a sharp smack to her ass, making her cry out.

“Aah!”

“To answer your question, yes. At least when you come around, I do. Got it yet?” he asked as he rubbed her thighs. She straightened up and turned back around, holding a shiny packet in between her fingers.

“Good. Come here,” he commanded as he roughly pulled her down to him. She settled on his lap as she handed the condom over to him. He ripped the packaging open with his teeth and pulled out the condom.

“Wait,” she whispered. Pete looked up at her.

“What is it?”

She held up a finger and adjusted herself so that she was dangerously close to the tip of his cock. She then took it in her hand and slid up against it so he was teasing her, drawing the moment out a little longer. Pete couldn’t tear his eyes away from her hands and gripped her hips with his own. He growled low in his throat and his jaw tensed as he watched her tease herself.

“If you don’t stop…” he warned.

“What are you gonna do?” she purred. He gripped her hips harder, making her stop. He slowly slid the condom that he was holding on to his cock and then pulled her closer.

“Kiss me,” he told her.

She kissed him as he began slowly sliding inside her. She gasped against his mouth and he chuckled under his breath.

“Mmph. You feel amazing,” he moaned.

“Pete…” she groaned as she dug her nails into his shoulders. He held her hips as he began a slow, steady pace, making sure she felt every… last… inch. Once he was completely inside her, he pulled out and then thrust back into her, making her cry out.

“That feels so fucking good, Pete,” she moaned. She began rocking her hips against him, matching his pace. She grinded against him and they kept this pace for a little while.

“Pete…” she moaned. He kissed her and then held her tighter as he began to pick up the pace, moving his hips a little faster. She matched the pace as she started to bounce up and down on him. He slid his hands down to her ass and squeezed as he went a little faster. He leaned in to kiss her neck and she could feel him panting against her neck.

“Ohh, god…” she moaned.

“Fuck, you feel so goddamned good,” he replied.

“More,” she gasped and he picked up the pace even more.

After a bit, Pete moved them both so she was laying down on the couch.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he told her. She did so and slid her hands through his hair as he held her hips. He began to thrust in and out a little faster now while she arched her back to meet him.

“Mmm… such a pretty little neck,” he murmured as he reached down for it, bracing himself with the arm of the couch. He slowly grasped her neck and while he continued to thrust, he squeezed, making her gasp.

“P-Pete…” she said breathlessly.

“Want me to stop?” he asked.

“N…no.” Pete squeezed her throat just slightly harder as he kept thrusting in and out. She raked her nails down his back in response.

“More…” she moaned and he squeezed just hard enough for it to hurt in the best way as he picked up the pace. He then took his hand away from her throat, making her gasp and ran it down to her hip where he gripped it as he began a frenetic pace.

“Pete!” she screamed out as he pounded her soaking wet pussy.

“Fuck!” he shouted as he felt his body tense up but he knew she had to come first, always. He wouldn’t deprive her of that pleasure and it was always so enticing to watch her beautiful face screw up as she orgasmed, usually loudly and without abandon. He watched her squeeze her eyes shut and his name spill from her lips as she began to climax, raking her nails down his chest. He gripped her hips tightly as he gave one final thrust before his own orgasm overtook him.

He wanted to collapse but kept his grip on the arm of the couch so his weight wouldn’t crush her. He panted heavily before slowly sliding out of her slick, wet pussy. She gave a soft moan and a whimper, which drove him crazy.

“Pete…” she gasped. “Aah.”

“Yes, my love?” he panted.

“You… fuck.”

“Exactly,” he whispered before kissing her.

He laid back on the couch but not before pulling her to him so she was lying on his chest. He stroked her hair as they began to come back down from their high.

They were still for a while after that, the only noises being their soft yet ragged breathing.

“So does that answer your question?” Pete asked after a while. She looked up at him and replied,

“What question?”

“How much you mean to me,” he said softly before kissing the top of her head.

“Of course.”