#but it’s really gratifying that at least to me I feel like my writing is well-received🥹😭😭🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂♥️♥️♥️♥️

[myokk]

wip tag game!!

Thank you to @holdmymallowsweet and @anomalyaly for the tags♥️♥️

I think in comparison I probably have boring file names, and not many, bc I don’t really write that much. I only ever write when I’m struck by an idea and unfortunately i spend most of my time just sitting around, twiddling my thumbs until it happens 😆😆

note-taking (my evil gremlin mc oneshot that I posted in the original wip tag game)

ominis gaunt thinks too much - the working (terrible) title for my Ominis longfic that hopefully I start posting soon🫶🫶 I posted a wip quite a while ago from chapter one♥️

and then…I split every scene I write into a different file, so the scene names for the next chapter of my fic, before it felt like a sin, are:

dream 1 - I posted a snippet here

eloise hallucinates and freaks out😌 - I posted a snippet of that with the wip thing before too

beasts

Tagging anyone who wants to participate!!♥️♥️♥️ I don’t know who’s done it and been tagged already and who hasn’t been tagged yet but would like to, so seriously if you see this & want to share I would LOVE to see it!!

[elodieunderglass]

It's not really my business, but honestly it feels like it would be advisable to hire a copyright lawyer. Like I don't feel like you're in it for the money, but it might be gratifying to have the guy milking your idea at least have to formally acknowledge you. I think I'd do it just for the peace of mind to know if I've been "legally" wronged or not. Either way, hope you continue to inspire, and live out a peaceful life.

(In reference to this post about the guy who pretends to have invented “Elder Teletubbies,” specifically how he is now kickstarting DnD minis of them.)

Ha, well, it’s all a little tricky I think. I might, hilariously, post on the r/legaladvice Reddit (even though they’re all cops lol) because the only thing I want here is for him to stop selling my “transformative work,” and ideally to stop pretending he invented it (which might be difficult as he appears to fully believe his work is creatively independent.)

I think if anything, my post counts as protected commentary or a transformative work of BBC’s Teletubbies, and I think it’s stinky to profit on that stuff in general (like I’m 190% okay with buying LotR fanart on stickers ! but I wouldn’t dream of trying to publish a fic with the serial numbers filed off. Why?)

I think ultimately I’m not a grifter, I’m a grownup, and I think it’s several levels of eye roll to sell fanart of a tv show on this level. I would be embarrassed to touch money made on that. I’m too fucking scrupulous and artisanal. I have toyed with a silly original novel for funsies since 2019 but keep saying things like, “oh, people will think this is too similar to something else that already exists” as if a silly original novel I write for fun has to somehow pass a Bar of Originality higher than anything salary-writers aim for.

I’m also pretty anti-intellectual-property myself in that leftist sense where I don’t believe people should be acting as if creative works are, like, oil. Like the resource extraction angle of intellectual property freaks me out, I don’t think getting super high-horse and snotty about Magical Brain Property is entirely compatible with the artisanal temperament I personally got going on here. I am like snufkin about this, simply smoking a pipe and making a flower crown saying “poor fools! Producing works for market, and serving as the guard dogs of the market, lest their work lose value if it becomes more common!” I do not have a high horse. I am not going to post 6900 words about the importance of defending fucking… Mickey Mouse. I buy those lotr stickers on Etsy! I do have a horse, but it’s a pretty low horse.

If it was his own work I would not care about this guy doing this in the least (apart from loftily calling it stinky - but hey, nerds are common and nerds are stinky, it’s not rare) IF he wasn’t STEALING FROM MY ANTI-COMMERCIALISATION DREAM TO DO IT.

That’s the bit that PISSES ME OFF too much to ignore: that and accepting compliments for being original like 😌 yes my twisted mind did this idk lol.

Like if you asked him point blank about the artistic choices he’d be like idk my twisted mind just sees the Teletubbies this way teehee! but if you ask ME why, for example, the adult Teletubbies live in the forest I’ll explain that in 2017 I was at a major life crossroads and this dream was ABOUT that. It was goodbye to my identity as a foreigner from the pine forests, and full steam ahead to settling permanently in the fucking shire (where the baby teletubbies on the bbc show live). It was about going back to work having had my first child, and saying goodbye to my various career dreams for myself (famous scientist! Published author!) as I chose instead, finally, the responsibility of working humbly as a public servant for the actual good of society. It is about witnessing the wild and saying “I am not of it, but it is my job to be its witness and voice.” That’s why the adult Teletubbies are dancing in my native forests while I’m watching them from the English hills. This guy doesn’t know that he just vaguely heard “spooky forest cryptid” and didn’t develop it at all, I do more work than that with FANFICTION in my time off!!!

So it’s really about nebulous stuff and ethics and not something worth paying a lawyer for I think!

But thank you so much for this, I think the thing that gets most perennial about it is the TOTAL GASLIGHTING of the “outside world” of the rest of the internet like, fully believing they invented this, and they DIDNT. They’re so wrong on the internet and they don’t know

[milykins]

*sticks nose in your inbox* hello!

I heard from a pair of bloomers waiting to be put out to dry that you were looking for fluffy bayverse raph prompts? Maybe something set at the farmhouse? Raph getting to wake up with the sun streaming through the window for once, cuddling close with his s/o, as soft and sweet as you want to make it please ❤️.

Final ask answered! I am such a sucker for soft romance... this was so nice to write. Also it's very funny that I'm giving off the vibe that I'd like to write for Bayverse Raph. Honestly, I love writing for him. He's my second favourite turtle next to Mikey.

I hope this is what you envisioned. Thank you for sending the prompt, these asks have been great for helping me to become a better writer.

Thanks to @sophiacloud28 for checking it over for me!

TW: A tiny bit spicy at the end with Raph getting a little handsy with his SO.

Raph x female reader, aged up characters of course.

Edited to add: one of my favourite Snow Patrol songs, which seemed to fit the scene quite well.

Golden Mornings

There was something so indescribably intimate about the mornings. Waking up slow, wrapped in his warm embrace. The soft, sleepy puffs of air on your neck. Deep, even motions of his chest, rising and falling with each breath. Strategically placed hands, and oh, those magnificent arms of his. Holding you like you were the most precious thing he owned. You were special to him in a way he couldn’t even express.

So, he showed you. Pressing tender kisses to your palms, knuckles, whatever he could reach really. Any expanse of skin was begging to have his mouth on it. Hugs from behind, especially when you were least expecting it. He didn’t care what you’re doing, you were not in his arms and that needed to be rectified. His arms belonged around you. He needed to feel the press of your body against his because it had just been too long since he felt it. He was addicted to you. Your scent, your softness, he loved it all.

He especially loved packing you up and taking you out for adventures on his bike. No responsibilities, no stress, just the two of you on the open road. He often liked taking you to the old, yet refurbished farmhouse. There was just something about that place that you couldn’t describe. It was many things that made this place special. The house itself, nestled in secluded acres of farmland and forestry. The feeling of being wrapped in the solitude of the sounds and smells of nature. Watching him walk around freely outdoors with no fear of anyone looking at him like he’s anything less than the incredible creature he is. Your unsung hero in red.

Oh, and waking up with him in this place. That was something else. Golden sunlight streaming in through tiny cracks in the blinds. His soft murmuring in your hair as you shift slightly and inhale deeply upon waking. Not yet… he wanted to stay in bed and hold you just a little longer. His arms tightening to keep you there, afraid to let you go. You’re quick to reassure him that you’re not going anywhere and feel his arms relax a little. He’s still somewhere between sleep and waking but coherent enough to press a soft kiss at the nape of your neck and slide his hand over your hip.

That’s when you felt rather than heard just how relaxed and content he really was. A sound reserved only for you. Soft, rumbling vibrations that radiated from his body to yours. Permeating your entire being. He only ever churred around you and it was both humbling and gratifying to know how safe and happy he felt to do it so freely. The rumbling alone could be enough to lull you back into the sweet embrace of sleep but you had other things on your mind.

You feel his grip tighten a little with the very purposeful push of your backside to his lower body. Oh, he was more awake now. The rumbling intensifies and you feel more soft kisses, spanning the expanse between your neck and shoulder. His hands, no longer still, began exploring the remainder of your uncovered skin. He didn’t like any barriers between his body and your own and made a point of removing them. Sometimes things got torn from you in heated moments of passion. Occasionally though, he removed things slowly like you were his own personal birthday present and he was taking his time unwrapping you. You weren’t sure which you preferred honestly. He could turn you into a puddle of need either way.

Currently, he was doing just that as his large hands smoothed their way across your body. The lazy beams of sunlight painting the walls only served to add warmth to the slow burn growing between the two of you. He can smell how much you want him. The sharp intake of breath and the squeeze of his hand on your hip was evidence enough. Your arousal was near impossible for him to resist, sweet, heady, and just you. If you were willing, he never hesitated in giving you exactly what you needed.

A plea from your lips has his hand travelling up to your breast for a squeeze and a gently brushing of his fingers across the peaks. A gasp escaped your lips, coupled with a now involuntary push of your hips. Then he growled, the sound sending an absolute rush of need straight to your core.

“Good way to wake up…” he husked; his voice rough with want.

“Best way to wake up…” was your quick, yet breathless reply.

He couldn’t agree more. He may not be great with words, but he was going to show you just how much he loved and appreciated you. Right at that moment, in that perfect golden morning. Just the two of you.

Until the next ask!

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

Please ask if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[hxney-lemcn]

This is Home — Osamu Dazai x gn! reader

summary: reader and Dazai's bond grows, feelings are revealed and Dazai shows a rare moment of vulnerability.

tw: mention of Dazai being suicidal, slight angst (mostly fluff), slight hurt/comfort

a/n: I hope I didn't write Dazai's character wrong. He's such a complicated character and I made him super lovesick so oops. Also this is super self indulgent (tbf I always write the reader in relation to how I would act).

wc: 3.3k

Master List

Your life outside of work wasn’t too exciting. After coming home from a stressful day of talking down a hostage situation or tracking down a criminal ability user, you were grateful for the peace you found at home. The Armed Detective Agency wasn’t what you expected to do as your career, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, after dealing with troubling situations all the time, laying down in bed and watching whatever managed to keep your attention was all the more gratifying. 

It was funny looking back, when you had been afraid of growing up lonely and bored. You got more than enough excitement at work, and you almost saw your colleagues as family. You truly loved them, they were everything (which was a bit sad but you digress), but you also enjoyed the tranquility of your home. The time you had to yourself was something you always appreciated. 

Today was one of those rare peaceful days. It was the weekend and you all were given a much needed day off. You had been letting your top coat dry, being careful as you scrolled through your phone, tv playing something in the background. Your pet cat laid peacefully on your feet, her cute little head snuggling into your legs. Days like these were your favorite. The weight of your job was lifted momentarily, soaking in as much of this relaxing feeling as possible. 

What you hadn’t fully expected (you can never underestimate what he’d do) was for Dazai to pop into your bedroom…at least he had the decency to knock on your bedroom door before entering. How did he get into your apartment? Lock picking. He totally lock picked your door. Much to his amusement, you hadn’t even batted an eye at his appearance. He hadn’t done this before, but from the way he acted around you in the office, this was bound to happen. Your only grief was that your cat had jumped away in apprehension of the ‘stranger’. 

Dazai let out a gasp, eyes starry as he noticed the nail care products that were on your bed stand, “You do your own nails? I always thought you got them professionally done.”

“Nah,” You shrugged. “You think I have the money or time for all that? I’ve been doing my own nails for as long as I can remember.”

“You’re so talented,” Dazai praised, jumping onto your bed next to you. Taking one of your hands in his own, he took in your work, even though it was just one color he was staring like it was the most fascinating artwork he’s ever seen.

“Want me to do yours?” You asked, unsure why he was so enraptured with your usual nails. You always tried to keep them nice. You could neglect any other aspect of your health, but you always tried to keep your nails looking good. You weren’t sure why, but maintaining them was relaxing, as well as a routine that calms you down. 

“Would you really,” Dazai gasps, now clasping your hand in his, an exciting grin dazzling his beautiful features. “You spoil me truly, Abelia.” That was something only Dazai called you. His fawning over women had slowly fizzled out, the pet name belladonna long forgotten. Instead, he had turned that attention towards you tenfold. If someone needed Dazai (mainly Kunikida), the first place they’d look was wherever you were. He would constantly drap himself over you, complimenting you and fawning over you. It was weird, you weren’t used to such attention, but you had started to look forward to the next time you’d see Dazai. You soaked up any and all attention he was willing to give you, while he had been doing the same. 

You looked up Abelia, unsure what that was. It was a plant, just like belladonna. But except being the name of deadly nightshade, it was a flowering plant, a part of the honeysuckle family. It was a unique, but heartwarming nickname that you had grown fond of quicker than you’d like to admit. It was hard for you to fully comprehend if Dazai actually was interested in you, or if this was his weird way of showing you affection. Although as mentioned earlier, he had stopped his flirting with women altogether, which made you wonder if he was okay (he’s just whipped for you). 

“You can pick out any color you want,” You motioned to the small rack of nail polish you owned. You had more than you needed, but that gave Dazai a wide variety. You watched him, the warmth in your eyes clear as he made a show of what color to pick.

“Ahh what do I choose?” He sighed, hands pointing to different colors. “There’s so much to choose from.” Suddenly, he perked up, picking up a color and quickly sliding up to you. A grin formed on your face as he waved the sparkly pink color in front of your face. 

“I’m warning you now, those sparkles are a pain to get off,” You warned, grabbing your nail file and cuticle cutters. “I had to scrape them off even after all the nail polish was already gone.”

“All the more reason,” Dazai smiled, watching as you fully turned towards him. Dazai didn’t hesitate when you held your hand out towards him, placing his in yours. Your touch always warmed him in a way he hadn’t felt before, the simplicity of your routines is what drew him in. That wasn’t to say you were boring, it’s just all he had known was chaos. If he wasn’t the center of chaos, he would create it. You were the complete opposite. You gave Dazai a taste of something he thought wasn’t meant for him, and he was slowly becoming dependent on you to show him more. A world that isn’t bloody and terrible, a world where he can be loved even with the terrible things that he’s done. A world where he’s with you. 

Dazai didn’t pay any attention to the tv, warm chocolate eyes watching your every movement. How you gently filed his nails into a nice looking oval shape (he couldn’t believe how better they looked just after the first step). How your eyes would dart to the tv every so often to keep up. How you made sure he wasn’t hurt when you clipped his cuticles, he was in slight awe at how you made it look so easy. Finally you put on the base coat. It had been thirty minutes and Dazai was already feeling a bit antsy. Sitting still wasn’t really his style even though he could be the laziest motherfucker alive. You were just so close, and he felt like it was a crime that he hasn’t held you close yet.

Even though Dazai knew his feelings for you ran deeper than they should, he hadn’t been able to tell you. Yes…he was kind of obvious, but he could tell that you would always interpret his affection as nothing but friendly. It was amusing and frustrating at the same time. He wanted to move past this stage, for you to be his, and him yours. Yet he was held back, knowing he didn’t deserve such kindness. How many people has he killed that wanted the same? How many people has he killed that had that warmth, only to extinguish it? 

At the end of the day, he still felt that hollow feeling. He didn’t really care about whomever he killed, they were just blank faces adding to a number. That alone made him feel guilty, because he knows you wouldn’t see it as such. You were so kind, kind enough to see a monster like him and care. He’s been shown the light time and time again within the ADA, and you only furthered that. At first it was hard for Dazai to understand the difference between the brutality of the Port Mafia and the ADA, but it slowly became clearer over time. You had been the nail in the coffin, showing him the true beauty of protecting someone. You had become a shoulder to cry on for many victims, almost crying with them sometimes, sharing their pain. He didn’t understand how you did it, but he’s trying to learn. 

That antsy feeling in Dazai slowly rose, the way you gently treated him as you continued to apply the polish to his nails only fueling the feeling further. That warm, fluttery feeling was getting worse and you were his outlet. Oh how he wanted to hug you, cuddle you, squeeze you tight to get those feelings out of his systems. What a predicament he put himself in. 

“Careful!” You gasped, holding his hands still with wide eyes. “I just put on the top coat, you gotta let it dry.”

“How long will that take?” Dazai whined, a pout forming on his pretty lips. 

“A while,” You replied, waving his hands to help them air dry a bit faster. “I don’t have an exact time, I mostly just wing it. When you can tap your nails without them sticking to each other is when they’re completely dry.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” He whined again, dramatically swaying as you continued to hold his hands still. “How am I supposed to live without you in my arms?”

“You survived 22 years,” You teased back, a sly grin on your face (Dazai thought he was going to die at the sight). “I’m sure you’ll live.”

“You’re so cold,” Dazai bemoaned, tilting his head back (but making sure his hands never left yours). You found yourself stuck holding Dazai’s hands until his nails fully dried. You had almost let go and he nearly ruined all your precious work. It was nearly dinner by the time his nails dried, and you found yourself making plans with him. 

“Take out or should I actually try to make something?” You pondered, looking into your fridge to see if the latter was even possible.

“Take out,” Dazai replied instantly. Glancing at him, you watched as he beckoned you towards your couch, arms stretched out like a child asking for a hug. Although this was the first time either of you had done anything like this before, it felt completely natural, almost like this was how it was always supposed to be. 

“Alright,” You shrugged, closing your fridge and approaching the man that took up your couch. “I’m kinda craving pizza, what about you?”

“Pizza is fine,” He mumbled, gently pulling you to lay on top of him. You felt yourself fluster slightly, unused to such an intimate hold. Yes Dazai would cling to you almost 24/7, but this was in the privacy of your home, and without the company of your friends that kept you grounded, it felt like the moment was more tender.

Taking out your phone to the best of your abilities, you kept making sure Dazai was okay with your decisions (he would eat dirt with you if you asked). After you confirmed everything, he had started playing with your hair, making almost completely melt into him (he had quickly found your weakness). Dazai watched with fondness as your eyes fluttered as he scratched gently at your scalp, it was so cute how you tried to act so nonchalantly (it worked greatly to his advantage that you were also touch starved). 

At that moment, it felt like your relationship with the suicidal detective had shifted. An understanding washing over the both of you. You had both been the others this entire time, you both were just too cowardly to speak it outloud. The warmth in your chest hurt so nicely, enjoying every second that Dazai’s nimble fingers twirled your hair around, never wanting him to stop. Unfortunately for you both, the pizza arrived quickly, causing you to pry yourself off Dazai as he tried to tangle you into him further.

“I have to get the pizza,” You grumbled, the more responsible of the two.

“Fine,” Dazai relented, allowing you to stand up properly. 

…

You couldn’t hide the lovesick grin on your face as Dazai showed everyone his nails the next work day. Atsushi complimented him, albeit hesitantly, asking when you did them. Dazai held the most shit eating grin when he mentioned you both hung out over the weekend, causing Atsushi to sweat. The look on Atsushi’s face as he looked at you read ‘my condolences’. 

If you thought Dazai was clingy before, he was basically a leech at this point. That day had changed him, and he found himself becoming more selfish. He wanted to call you his. He wanted to be yours so badly, the thought of you both sharing more domestic moments consumed him. 

Such a moment happened after work. Dazai was feeling particularly romantic, and who was he to deny you such affection? You deserved the world and he would give you no less. He brought you to a park, a thick blanket and a bag of food for you two to share (he sadly couldn’t find a picnic basket in time). Since your work day ended at five, the park wasn’t too full. Parents were starting to take their kids home and some people were having their evening jog. Dazai had brought you to a more quiet area, placing the blanket beneath a tree. 

You felt flattered at the amount of attention Dazai had put into this. The blanket was a nice thickness so it wasn’t super uncomfortable to sit on the ground, the foods were your favorites and Dazai currently held a chocolate covered strawberry up to your mouth.

“Say ahh~” He giggled, clearly amused with the situation. You opened your mouth hesitantly, feeling embarrassed at the situation. This wasn’t the first time someone’s fed you something, albeit it wasn’t often, this scenario was more intimate then anything you had experienced. 

“Is this a date?” You couldn’t help but ask after you swallowed the berry (it was delicious). Normally you’d shy away if the topic was brought up, but at the moment you couldn’t find it in yourself too. After that domestic day, the way Dazai treated you was warmer than normal, and it felt 100% genuine. He had desensitized you to the notion of dating him, and it seemed to work in your favor. 

“If you want it to be,” Dazai hummed, grin widening.

“I don’t mind,” You replied, picking up a sandwich. “As long as that’s also what you want.” 

His heart fluttered, an occurrence that had become normal in your presence. The fact that you wanted his full consent, even though he’s the one that planned it warmed him. You were so sweet he could feel his teeth rot. If anything, he should be asking you if you really wanted this. Even though you knew he was an ex-Port Mafia executive, he didn’t think you truly understood the sins he had committed. What he’s done without a second thought. The sadistic acts he did for fun. You had nearly cried over a song about a rat being killed, how would you react if you heard the details of his crimes?

You had sensed the change in Dazai’s demeanor. The shine in his eyes dulled, even if everything else hadn’t changed. He suddenly looked drained, the eye bags under his eyes were dark. At first you were worried that he didn’t want to date you, but that thought seemed silly. It then dawned on you that the charming, lovely Dazai might have been feeling inadequate. 

“Of course,” Dazai smiled, masking his feelings as quickly as they appeared. “I would be honored to be yours, Abelia.” He grabbed both of your hands, holding them up to his cheek as he swooned dramatically. A smile tugged at your lips as you noticed the polish on his nails, they had slightly chipped, but they were still nearly intact. 

Sliding one of your hands out of his grip, you caressed his cheek (a bold move on your part), “You know I care for you, right?” His dark eyes widened, a small blush rising over his cheekbones. Your thumb gently rubbed his cheek as he kept your other hand clutched in his own. 

“You shouldn’t,” Dazai muttered, letting you see a fraction of how he felt. He wasn’t sure why he admitted such a vulnerable thought so quickly. It was like the honesty in your eyes had compelled him to tell you the truth.

A frown tugged at your lips, unwavering adoration filling you, “Everyone deserves someone to care for them.”

The determination in your eyes, your kindness, it had all caused Dazai to turn into a gooey mess on the inside. You said such astounding things with such a strong truth. He knew you meant what said.

“Everyone?” Dazai repeated, raising an eyebrow, trying to lighten the atmosphere. 

You paused, thinking of some bad people from history that were definitely not worthy, but decided to stand strong (or your defense could easily be dismantled), “Everyone.” You noticed that the shine of despair still clouded in his eyes, his smile unwavering. That’s when you realized he truly didn’t think he deserved to be loved and cared for. Taking your other hand out of his grasp, you held his face in your hands, a seriousness taking over you.

“You may have done bad things, you may have hurt people, but you’ve changed,” You stated, staring deeply into his eyes in hope to get through to him. “And as long as you try to be good, to atone for what you’ve done, then you deserve a second chance. Osamu Dazai, you are not a bad person, and you deserve to be loved.”

The formidable Osamu Dazai, the carefree, lazy, unbreakable, cunning Dazai had cracked. And you, sweet, loving, caring, kind you had been the one who managed to break him. He had never expected to hear such kind words aimed towards him, he never had expected to show anyone his guilt he carried. He never expected to have someone like you in his life, who would love unconditionally. He thought people like that were fools who were oblivious to the horrors of the world, but you fought frontline and still smiled and loved ceaselessly. 

A bittersweet look fell onto your face, and when he felt your thumbs brush something wet away from his cheek, he realized he was crying. Something he had never done in front of someone else. He supposes it was a sign of how deeply he trusted you, when he thought you couldn’t get any kinder, you had shown him that some people simply didn’t have evil in them. Yes you could be selfish, no you weren’t perfect, he knew you were insecure and sometimes your kindness was due to you being a people pleaser. He had seen you become devastated at the thought of someone not liking you, how you’d do something for someone at your own expense because you want them to be happy. For someone who was extremely independent, you were still quite dependent on others' views on you, for someone so trusting, it was hard for you to fully trust someone.

“This was supposed to be a romantic date,” Dazai sighed, a small pout on his lips.

“I think this went quite well,” You replied. You smiled gently as you lifted a strawberry up to Dazai’s mouth. “Say ahh~”

Dazai couldn’t hold back his delighted giggles, happily chomping on the strawberry you offered him. He felt lighter than he ever had, who knew telling someone your problems could make you feel better, even if it's just slightly (get therapy man, it works). You had managed to endear yourself even more to the bandaged man (if that was even possible). If you wanted to get rid of him now good luck, he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.

If only he could mutter those three words that rested at the tip of his tongue.

[the-marshals-wife]

Angel Shot (John Wick x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: Just a little something because I missed writing for John and watching all the movies again on winter break has got me feeling inspired. ♥

Description: John Wick x Fem!Reader, protective John fluff | Warnings: mild language, alcohol, suggestive themes, Y/N is harassed/threatened and John intervenes | Setting: before Helen (or AU without her, you decide) | Word count: 1,474

Gif credit: user johnswick

Imagine John coming to your defense when a former associate won't leave you alone

It had been a long week. All you wanted was a moment of peace and a cold drink. Normally, you had no trouble finding that at the bar within the New York Continental. On this night, however, you found yourself wishing you had gone elsewhere. No sooner had you taken the first sip of your cocktail did Rico Augustine spot you from across the room.

You keep your eyes fixed forward and pretend not to notice his approach on your right.

"Look who it is," he announces, mockery in his voice, "The rooftop sniper."

"Rico," you acknowledge placidly. You could already sense this interaction would not remain civil. A quick glance his direction allowed you to take notice of his haggard, unshaven face and wrinkled suit. Even in the subdued glow of the mood lighting, you could see the wildness in his bloodshot eyes as he clutched the edge of the bartop.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink," he starts, leaning in closer, "but considering I'm a little light of funds right now, maybe you should be the one getting me something, huh?"

The alcohol on his breath was strong enough to burn your nose. Apparently, he'd managed to evade both sleep and sobriety since you last spoke.

"I already have one," you say, gesturing with your glass, "And I'm not sure you need another."

"It really is the least you can do, after what you stole from me," he provoked, his disgust poorly veiled.

His proximity, paired with his odor and audacity, set a fire in your blood.

"Are we really going to go over this again?" you ask, turning toward him, "I didn't know you were there last night. I wouldn't have taken the shot if I had. I don't work like that."

"You know that's my territory. I followed that mark for two hours and you took him right out from underneath me. I needed that money," he seethes, drawing out his next words, "You owe me."

You pivot back to the bar, your temper flaring. "It was an open contract, Rico. Just because we worked together on the Morocco Exchange doesn't mean I owe you," you state, taking a swig before speaking once more, "I already gave you a 30% cut, from a profit you didn't earn in the first place. That means we're finished."

His hand flies up to grab your wrist, causing you to drop your drink. The glass rattles and liquid sloshes out as it hits the bartop, but it does not fall over. With the dull roar of music and conversation filling the room, the noise isn't enough to catch the distracted bartender's attention.

"What if I say we're not?" he asks, his voice growling in your ear, "What if we're only finished when I say we are?"

Before you can answer or go for the dagger concealed in your shirt sleeve, you feel the cold steel of a concealed blade begin to dig into your ribs.

"I tried being polite, but you just had to keep flapping those lips of yours."

"You don't want to do this," you warn through gritted teeth.

"Wrong again," he sneers, his gratified tone sending a shiver down your back, "Why don't we continue this conversation up in my room, hm?"

You try to make eye contact with the bartender, but his back is still turned toward you, occupied with a chatty patron. Only one option remained: be even less civil. You try to free your dagger slowly from its sheath on your forearm without Rico noticing. It starts to slide loose as he pulls you toward him with a sickening laugh. The hilt is almost in your palm when, in the mirror on the wall of liquor bottles, you catch a glimpse of someone approaching from behind. They come to stand at your left a few seconds before you hear a voice that brings immediate relief.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hey, John," you say.

"Nice night," he remarks.

"Sure is," you reply, glancing to him from the corner of your eye.

"Evening, Rico. Can I buy you a drink?" John asks.

"Thanks John, but Y/N and I are about tapped out for the night. Ain't that right?"

You attempt to turn your head towards John, but Rico pushes the blade harder into your side in response.

"Yeah," you say unconvincingly, wincing from the sting, "Thought about ordering an Angel Shot though."

There's a brief silence before John speaks again. "That so?"

"This doesn't concern you, Wick," Rico snarls, his fake cordiality gone in an instant, "Mind your business."

"Actually, you made it my business when you pulled that knife," John responds calmy, "Now, how about that drink? Or shall I make a dinner reservation instead?"

You feel the grip on your arm loosen a bit. Your assailant knew as well as you did what that meant. One of two things awaited him: a whiskey, or a body bag.

Despite the warning, Rico scoffs, looking past you to glare at John.

"Come on, Wick. You and I both know you don't have the balls to break hotel rules," he retorts, his thin lips curling into smirk.

John doesn't blink. "You willing to bet on that?"

You suppress the urge to smile as you watch the reflection of your harasser's face lose its gusto, along with most of the color.

"Last chance, Rico," John says, "Take your hands off her, and walk away."

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

Rico narrows his gaze, but lets go of your arm. "Of course. Whatever you say, Baba Yaga," he jeers, rubbing his mouth with his sleeve.

You exhale, but the sweaty brute leans back in close to your face and hisses, "The Boogeyman won't always be there to save you. This isn't over."

Rico starts to walk past you, but John grabs his arm, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "I didn't catch that last part."

He clears his throat, avoiding John's piercing stare. "It was nothing."

"Uh-huh," he deadpans, "Didn't think so."

"What's the matter, Wick? We're all professionals here, aren't we?" he poses; more a begrudged plea for mercy than an inquiry.

"Some of us more than others, it would seem," John replies, proceeding to lower his voice, "If you threaten her again, you'll find out just how professional I can be."

Rico clenches his jaw, his eye twitching in rage. Even as he choked on his own venom, he knew he was beaten. He violently recoils as John releases his arm, straightening his jacket and running a trembling hand through his disheveled hair. You, John, and the rest of the room watch him retreat until he's completely out of sight.

Boogeyman or not, John had a way of drawing attention. The hush that had fallen over the room fades as customers return to their drinks and conversation, no doubt now discussing what sort of gruesome scene they were nearly witnesses to.

John finally turns to you. "Are you alright?"

You nod and smile a bit, "Thanks to you."

"I'm sure you had it handled."

"Yeah, but I wasn't looking forward to scrubbing his blood out of this fabric. You can never find this color, I'd hate to toss it," you chuckle, looking down at your shirt.

"We wouldn't want that," he says, amused.

You replace your tousled hair behind your ear and meet his softened gaze. "Thank you, John."

"You're welcome, Y/N," he says, reaching into his jacket pocket, "You look like you could use a refill."

He holds up an all-too-familiar gold coin, then places it on the bartop. "On me."

"That's two I owe you then," you counter, giving him a knowing look.

"No. You don't owe me anything," he states, kind but firm. The look he gives you in return makes you feel that you shouldn't argue.

"Fair enough," you say, watching the now attentive bartender top off your beverage, "But at least let me get you a bourbon."

John retrieves his phone from another pocket, reading the screen and stowing it back as fast as he'd produced it.

"Thank you, but I'll have to take a raincheck," John says, touching your shoulder before walking away. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

"You have business elsewhere tonight?" you question, calling after him.

"Yeah," he answers, pausing a moment, "But I won't be checking out for another day or so."

You smirk. "Be seeing you, then?"

He nods, the smallest trace of a smile on his face.

"Be seeing you."

He turns to leave, and your eyes follow him until the last. Drink back in hand, your heart continues its excited drumming. You press the cold crystal to your lips and grin. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad night after all.

"Give 'em hell, John."

[linomilkers]

Minho x Reader [Warnings: dry humping, a filthy blow job, probably some medical inaccuracies, Minho calls Felix Yongbok bc canon and that's his Yongbokkie]

Note: Helloooo, this is my first time writing in this style! Just trying something different for this particular piece. Also, I started writing this before we found out about Minho's hand, so I promise I wasn't making light of his injury! Just a coincidence!

Let me know if you like it!!

Minho who hurt both of his wrists somehow, maybe it was a misstep in dance practice that sent him to the floor, or a stumble at the airport. His wrists are sprained, he's in two clunky arm braces to keep them still, and he's not meant to participate in any strenuous exercise that would involve movement of them. It sucked, being hurt, and he was missing schedules, he would fall behind in learning the new choreography, and he was setting the comeback back by a couple of weeks -- but it wasn't the worst thing. He could use a small break, even if it's just a week or two, of resting and taking it easy after nonstop months of producing content.

Minho who enjoys the break for about a week before he started getting a little stir crazy. Eating was a chore, a true test to his patience instead of being something gratifying and he couldn't cook much. He could move his wrists a little so that the muscles wouldn't weaken from not using them, but barely enough to eat, let alone prepare a full meal. Everyone else in the dorm was so busy that nobody was really cooking, so living off take out has made his face swollen and a bit puffy. Which he wouldn't mind as much, if not for how annoying Seungmin's been with pinching his cheeks and cooing at him for it. He can't even properly exact revenge and the creatine is taking full advantage of that.

Minho who can't touch himself properly and is starting to go crazy because of that too. He doesn't have to do it every day like some (namely Jisung, the little pervert), but he does it often enough that a week and a half in he's starting to feel it. Every morning he's waking up with something stiff between his legs, and he's helpless to it. Minho believes he has enough mental fortitude to look past his horniness, because no orgasm would be satisfying if he couldn't properly use his hands. He could wait it out, the braces would be off within two more weeks, he'd be fine.

Minho who breaks the day after he'd made a pact with himself to hold out. In the daze of his morning wood and being two seconds from sleep again, he rolled onto his front on his bed. Minho bunches his blankets up into a wad, then presses into it, a reedy sound leaving his mouth, unfamiliar to his own ears. It feels good, really, really fucking good, but it isn't enough. Still, it doesn't stop him from trying. He ruts pitifully into the blankets, chasing after a release he knew he wouldn't find, leaking precum in his briefs. It's embarrassing, how badly he needs it, how desperately he's trying for it -- but there's nobody home. Everyone left early this morning, so he was safe to do this for a little while, until he gets frustrated and takes a cold shower instead.

Minho, who forgot Yongbok's friend had spent the night and had promised to wait around for him to get back from schedules so they could go shopping, or out to eat, or whatever. The friend who Yongbok had made promise she would bring Minho breakfast in the morning, so that he wasn't fumbling around the kitchen himself. Minho had told him that he didn't need that, that he wouldn't want his friend going out of her way for him, but he refused to listen, and so did she. Which was surprising, she's usually pretty quiet, but the sudden headstrong attitude started him into silence and acceptance. "No earlier than 7AM," he told her, "I'll at least try to sleep in."

Minho, who doesn't hear the perfunctory knock on the door before it opens at 7:05 (of course she is close with Yongbok, because he barely waits half a second before opening the door after a halfhearted knock as well -- he doesn't care what he sees when he ambles in, usually caught in his own head about whatever he'd come for in the first place), and only realizes that Y/N is standing there with a bowl steaming in her hands when she says, "Oh, shit, sorry," as if this wasn't embarrassing enough, Minho has to let go of the pillow he'd caught between his teeth, "I should've waited for you to reply."

Minho, who knocks his head against the mattress and gives a disbelieving laugh, because of course this would happen to him. He's at the edge of his rope, he just wants to cum, and he can't even do that without being caught humping the bed like a desperate dog. He's caught between wanting to apologize to her for seeing him like this and wanting to scold her for walking in, in the first place. He doesn't get a chance to do either because Y/N offers her help instead, gentle and not in the least bit suggestive sounding, despite what she was suggesting, "I can help you out, if you want," she told him, "Yongbokkie thinks my mouth is really good."

Minho, who really doesn't have a chance to consider what that means, because since when was Yongbok getting his dick wet? Is that why he's always so calm? How long had she been doing that? And would he be okay with her offering that to Minho? Wouldn't he be upset? Or were they not together like that? He makes a confused sound in his throat, nervous to turn around where he knew she'd be able to see how hard he was, but too mortified to stay in the position he's in. So he flipped onto his back, and tries not to wince when her gaze zeros in on his cock -- so fierce, he's sure that he could feel it burning him, "I told him to ask if you needed help, but he didn't listen to me," Y/N continued to say, "Swore up and down about how you don't like asking for help, that you'd have to really need it to accept it, and I think humping your blankets is really needing it, right?" It was a fair assessment, and he feels his ears get hot, "I'll help."

Minho, who agrees because. . .well, why shouldn't he? She's offering, and he's hard and horny and wet, and he probably isn't thinking the clearest. He'd never thought of Y/N in that way, she's always just been Yongbokkie's sweet friend and that's it, but now he can't get the image of her with his cock in his mouth (or Yongbok's cock, for that matter) out of his head. With great effort, he scoots himself up the bed, among his pillows with his back against the headboard while Y/N got herself comfortable between his spread legs. She doesn't bother to take his briefs off at first, burying her nose against the hard swell beneath the fabric and breathing in deep. His face feels like its on fire, because who just does that? And why is he so turned on by it?

Minho, whose mind is spinning because this sweet girl's mouth is made for more than gentle compliments and clunky sentences in a language Yongbok is working hard to help her with. It's made for wetting the thin fabric of his light colored briefs, sucking opened mouth kisses that add to the growing wet spot on him. He has a hard time figuring out what was from him and what was from her, but it hardly matters. He throbs and twitches with every suckle and lick while she saturates the cotton. And when he is about to start whining at her for teasing him, her fingers dip beneath the elastic and fish his cock out from the briefs. A small, contented sigh leaves her mouth, like she'd been waiting all day to get her mouth on him. The head is flushed ruddy and dripping, shiny with his own slick and she shows her tongue to wet her lips, and he's throbbing again.

Minho, who can only gasp when she says, "You really needed this, right? I would have helped sooner. I like drinking cum from pretty boys," because what is Yongbok teaching her? But before he can ask, she's swallowing his cock down in one go and he cries out like he'd never been touched in his life. It sure feels like that right now, and the tight, wet heat of her mouth makes his brain melt, and any hope for thoughts that surpass, this is good, this is good, this is good leave his head. His brain to mouth filter evaporates, he spreads his legs further, "Fuck," his eyes roll back, because if he looks at her then he'll cum and he wanted to enjoy this for a little while at least, "Who taught you to be this naughty?"

Minho, who wasn't really looking for an answer, but Y/N slips off to tongue at his slit any way, then drools a glob of spit on his shaft and fucks him with her hand, "Yongbokkie," she replied without thought, "He trained my throat really well, now I can take all of you pretty deep." All of them? He can't clarify because she's sucking his balls into her mouth and soaking them with her tongue and his mind fizzles out again. It's too much, all of it, and she does it with a practiced ease of someone who is taking a lot of cocks in her mouth and his mind is reeling with it. She slobbers and drools and sucks until she's licking back up to the tip, taking him down, down, down, until the head nudges at the back of her constricting throat.

Minho, who comes with barely a warning scraping away from his tongue but Y/N doesn't mind. She withdraws just enough so it fills up the pocket of her cheek, squeezing the base, working him through it. He thinks his vision whites out for a second, he's almost positive he might have momentarily blacked out from the intensity of it. It burns from his fingertips up through his chest, spiraling through his whole body like summer storm lightening. It's a lot, his muscles lock up, he thinks if there were any time to understand the universe it would be now after he just flooded her mouth.

Minho, who isn't sure what to expect exactly, but certainly didn't expect her to crawl back up his body, tilt his chin toward her mouth and fix their lips together. He didn't expect her to push his cum into his mouth either, in a kiss so filthy and gross he knows he's going to be touching himself to it for months to come. At least he doesn't taste all that bad, as she makes him share, and he moans pretty pitifully against her tongue.

Minho, who finally opens his eyes after some time and is greeted with a smile, "Good news is, we were quick about it so your food is still warm," she tells him, "Should I feed it to you? I don't mind." And who would have thought that, with his softening cock against his thigh, and his wrists in braces, that Y/N would offer him something like that too? She'd already done too much, hasn't she? More than she'd been requested to, should he really let her feed him? Or was she joking?

Minho, who quickly finds that she isn't joking at all actually. She doesn't wait for him to answer before she's offering him rice and a sliver of egg from his bowl, holding it out toward his mouth. Minho parts his lips, she presses it inside, then gives an even bigger, triumphant smile when he hums at the taste, "It's good, hm? I made it myself."

Minho, who decides that he needs to know more about her, needs to implant himself deeper into her life, needs to ask Yongbok where he found her and if he's willing to share.

[msunitedstatesjames]

I just finished up most of Emmrich's companion quests and oh my god that was amazing. I chose the human ending, and I loved it. Once again, my favorite string of scenes yet in the game.

First of all, Emmrich's voice actor did amazing. Like, wow. We've heard Emmrich be the self assured academic, we've heard him be anxious, we've even heard him be angry, but we got whole new shades of Emmrich in the final Hezenkoss confrontation and Lich choice scenes. We got outrage, we got desperation, we got grief and pain. When Emmrich first tries to stop the lantern and realizes it could kill him, when he begs Manfred to come back as he goes after the lantern, when he begs him to come back again when he searches for his spirit, when he admits that he wouldn't trade Lichdom for having Manfred back, it's all so movingly acted. And you can't forget the "Magic, like you" joy. It can be easy for video games to make you feel excited or interested or generally just content, but feeling joy and grief are harder, and this string of quests pulled it off beautifully, largely because of the voice acting and also the character writing.

I found Emmrich's animation to be really good in these scenes as well. He does a lot of dramatic gesturing, and for whatever reason it just really worked for me. The way he gestures when pleading with Hezenkoss and admitting she was right was great. The hug when Manfred was back was adorable. The look on his face when he realizes he's talking about Manfred like a child was precious. But the one that really got me was when Manfred "dies," and Emmrich puts his hands over his face with that look of utter disbelief and horror. Seeing Emmrich look like that, when he's always so put together, really hits hard.

The little romance moments were great, too. Having Hezenkoss be so pissed off that Emmrich has a lover is gratifying. Rook getting called his "paramour" was amusing. Also, I have to give Hezenkoss some props for at least admitting she would have entombed Rook and Emmrich together when she killed them. That's really a pretty decent thing for a villain to promise, like, she didn't have to do that. It was nice to be able to stand up for Emmrich, too. And that you got to help him make his big decision. But of course the sprinkle on top of this delightful cake was getting to surprise Emmrich into realizing that you're parenting together. How many other Dragon Age couples get to parent together? Only a few that I can think of.

Emmrich's character growth was stunning too. He has to acknowledge that, at least in one way, Hezenkoss was better than him. He admits that he misses her friendship. He has to face down his greatest fear, death, more than once, and while doing so choose the lives of others above his own in a very real way. First he chooses to risk himself to save Hezenkoss's enemies, and Rook, and Nevarra City. Then, he literally chooses eventual death in order to save Manfred. He also realizes that he was stronger than he believed himself to be, both in magic and in courage. And in the end he can admit that though he has regrets, he knows he made the right choice. I haven't played or watched the other ending, but it feels right somehow for Emmrich to embrace his deep compassion this way.

As for Hezenkoss, there's a certain poetic justice to her being ended by a ragtag team of Emmrich's "ridiculous skeleton," Emmrich's lover, spirits she personally tormented, and her former friend turned foil, Emmrich the death fearing necromancer. I still love her as a whacky villain. Who knows what evils her escaped undead hand is getting up to now?

If I haven't blabbed enough about how amazing these quests were, they were also just the most exhilarating in the game for me so far. I think all of the reasons listed above just combined really well together to make this quest super suspenseful. I really cared about Emmrich as a character, so I really cared about his fate. Even though you logically knew he wouldn't die in this quest, it still felt very high stakes. There was exciting music, dozens of lives at stake including Emmrich and Manfred, and as I've mentioned before, top tier voice acting. I was gasping and kicking my feet in excitement at all the right moments. It strings you right along from suspense, to excitement, to dread, to shock, to triumph, to grief, to joy, to a pleasant contentment.

I couldn't stop playing this string of quests, which was extremely unfortunate for Bellara because right before this she told Rook they needed to go after her brother immediately, and then I instead forced her to tag along and help Rook defeat her boyfriend's rival.

Anyway, I'm still reeling from the excitement of it all. I hope the end of this game is really good because it's gonna be hard to live up to this bunch of quests.

(Sidenote: How horrified would the Southern Templars be to find out an extremely powerful death mage, his Spelblade Tevinter mage girlfriend, and their reanimated skeleton son (inhabited by a spirit of curiosity and gifted with death magic) are running around Thedas fighting gods?)

[prince-liest]

Omg, I just wanted to say I ADORE your characterization of Al and Vox! I don't even have the words to express how much I love reading your stuff, especially the Anon responses you post on here. The behind the scenes thoughts are literally my food, lifesource, its so good when people not only write characters IN CHARACTER, but also include stuff about their analysis/understanding of the character too.. I'm literally obsessed with breaking down characters and yk, cracking their chrome domes open to see how they work (which admittedly, I am not the best at <_< but I love reading them). Just wanted to say how much I love your writing. I had maybe 2 questions, please don't feel pressured to answer them :>

What in your mind (in reference to the 66.6 fics) would motivate Alastor to let Val get close to him in the first place? Or was that more you picking these two characters up by the scruff of their necks and plopping them into a hypothetical scenario to explore their character and write some fun intimate thingsTM?

What do you think of the dynamic of Vox and Al vs something like Lucifer and Al? Personally I've noticed that something Alastor craves, behind the mask of his static smiling persona, is attention. He's (at least how I saw it) usually peeved when people don't care about his absence, and seems especially bothered by the King of Hell refusing to really acknowledge him, so he goes out of his way to push Lucifers buttons (like calling himself a father figure to Charlie, IN FRONT OF HER ACTUAL FATHER LOL) whereas with Vox, Vox is literally CONSTANTLY thinking about Alastor. Man literally interrupted his regular TV program to do a segment about how much he totally didn't at ALL care about Alastors dissapearance or the fact that he returned (suree buddy). So Alastor can have more fun with him and annoy him by ignoring and messing with him on purpose.

ty if you do respond to this, sorry if it was hard to understand, sometimes I forget how to put the thoughts in my brain into coherent words!

Ahhhh, thank you very much, anon! I'm especially happy that you're enjoying my commentary on Tumblr, haha - I spent a while on Twitter because that's where all the fandom zines I was in were being hosted, but nothing beats Tumblr for giving me a nigh-unlimited word count and a captive audience for my rambling! >:D <3 I'm back to cocooning myself on the OG hell site.

Thank you for this ask, it really brightened my day! :D

As for your questions:

1. I'm assuming that was a typo and that you mean Vox (but in case you did mean Val: that was just a funny accident of him walking by the room! Alastor wasn't paying enough attention until it was too late), and to that I say:

I think Alastor allows Vox to take a go at him in canon because he finds Vox's obsession with him to be entertaining, but also because Alastor is kind of a narcissist and that same obsession massively feeds his ego, especially in a political climate that otherwise forgot about Alastor. Vox's whole "Who gives a shit about Alastor coming back?! Haha, now let me have a public meltdown and short out power to the whole city about it! Oh, fuck, why is he back, though?? Can we send a spy in to find out??" is exactly the reaction that Alastor wants every time he mentions his mysterious absence and gets brushed off.

At the same time, Alastor doesn't seem to register Vox as a sincere and genuine threat. He's a big enough fish in the Pride Ring pond that his obsession with Alastor is gratifying, but Alastor's self-absorption also doesn't really allow him to treat Vox as a threat tier above "annoying in a funny way, and also television is stupid." (Perhaps this will change in season 2... :eyes: (or perhaps Alastor will get Even Worse) (please god let him get even worse))

So those two things in combination make Vox the perfect candidate for Alastor to experiment with while maintaining his ego and not feeling particularly threatened. Despite Vox's Safeword 101 talk, Alastor would never put stock into that system with Vox unless he was certain that he himself would be able to back up a 'no' with overwhelming force. Him even considering safewords in the Live On Air! series is less for his own sake and more a politesse he offers on Vox's request to warn Vox to slow the fuck down before Alastor tries to put his insides on the outside.

2. And in direct contrast, we have Lucifer...

... Who Alastor obviously actually cares quite a bit about, because he's a whole nother power tier from both Vox and Alastor, and furthermore and possibly even more importantly, a credible threat to Alastor's relationships and standing in the hotel. I think a lot of discussion I see about Alastor prodding Lucifer seems to talk about how quickly he got annoyed about Lucifer's comments, but that misses the fact that he was pissed off before Lucifer even showed up. He got pissy the moment he saw the welcome sign, actually! And I wager that he was narratively absent for the scene where Charlie actually calls Lucifer because he would have done his best to manipulate her out of doing so had be been there.

And given that the two clearly haven't met before (though obviously Alastor knows of Lucifer - and hates that the inverse isn't true, hah), it's not 100% clear exactly why he's immediately so annoyed, but in my personal view of things and barring something like "he's projecting onto Lucifer because his contract is with Lilith," I think that what we know of Alastor's personality points most strongly to "he liked being the hotel's benefactor and sees it as His Project, and doesn't like the idea that Charlie called daddy for something that she thought mysterious, powerful Alastor couldn't handle." He distracts a lot with obviously-goading comments about practically being Charlie's dad in his duet with Lucifer, but underneath that he puts a lot of emphasis on the work he's done for the hotel and the fact that he's been supporting Charlie and the hotel from the start, so why the fuck is this deadbeat asshole suddenly turning up?!

Tl;dr: Charlie missed her insight roll on Alastor's personal investments and he's sooooo offended - and taking it out on Lucifer!

I think one of my favorite things about both Lucifer and Alastor is that they both sooo obviously belong in the Pride Ring, hahaha.

[positivelybeastly]

What have been some of your favorite rps over the years? Have you developed any personal ocs that you particularly enjoy (I know you've got Dark Beasts going on, so if you wanna talk about what's going on there, that'd be cool too!

Oh, this is a tricky one! Not least because it relies on my memory, which is one of my least reliable traits, ha - but I shall do my best!

The first one that comes immediately to mind is this thread with @themckaytriarchy - it was sort of integral to the process of my getting over what X-Force did with Beast by taking control of it, and it also just let me dive into a more horror based thread, which I don't often get to do. Beast is a character who is often very horror-aligned, so getting to really explore that was a ton of fun. I got very poetic in there, but I had a great time.

There's also this thread with the same writer, which was sort of how Cereal and I really got to be such good friends, and how Hank and Tess ended up becoming BFFs. They just had such instant chemistry and bounced off each other really, really well, and I love getting to play Hank as the best aspects of all of his selves - the more mature vibe of his feline self mixing with his younger, gremlin energy, the regret of his modern self mixing in with that, I like when I can pull on all the strings at the same time, if that makes sense.

Oh! Another one is this thread with @silverjetsystm - one of the things I absolutely love about Hank is that he knows goddamn everybody, like, the man's been on every team you can imagine, so there's always some era you can dive into, and his time on the Secret Avengers was so undeveloped, and MK-mun has just been an absolute joy to write with. You can really tell when I'm getting into a thread because I just write reams and reams and reams, and things get more poetic, and Hank starts thinking heavier and heavier things.

Easily another one is this one with @thebettermccoy - I've been wanting a good Dark Beast to bounce off for ages, to the point where I took him on as an extra muse just so he and Hank could interact and I could practise their voices, but then Squirrel-mun took the brave step to take him on, and it's been a joy ever since. It's so gratifying to get to refer to one specific issue from 1996 that no-one but me and Squirrel-mun know about, and they know the lines of dialogue just as well as I do, and we can just dig.

Another one is this one with @themarvelliteraryuniverse - I've lowkey shipped Beast and Sabretooth for years because of Wolverine and the X-Men vol. 1 #8, and getting to actually attack that dynamic and explore it and see Locke's unique take on Victor mesh with my Hank in such an instantly compelling way . . . god, it's a dream come true for me, honestly. Something that often gets lost about Hank is his inherent sexual drive and energy, his repressed primality, his morals interacting with his pull towards the dark, and exploring that is always just a complete joy.

Oooh, ooh! This one with @notmymamasboy - not only is it fun to play Hank as getting used to being pursued again, but Stabby is just so good at throwing this inescapable, unrelenting energy into Raze that makes him feel like a force of nature that Hank has immense affection for and attraction to, but, again, knows has a lot of darkness attached to them. They just bounce off each other really well, and it's probably what fandom would qualify as a crack ship, but I just like the intellectual conflict intersecting with the interpersonal chemistry.

Another one I've loved is this one with @emmatriarchy - I'm an absolute sucker for getting to fill in missing bits of Hank's history, and I always thought it was such a travesty that X-Force never tugged on the very brief but incredibly impactful time where Hank and Sage interacted in X-Treme/New X-Men, because it adds such dimension to their dynamic. Getting to explore that in-situ is a dream for me, and I also just love getting to play Hank from specific periods with specific moods, especially with gloriously obscure and underappreciated muses, with is sort of this mun's whole thing. :)

Ooh, ohh! This one, with @maximummuses - I again felt like this entire thing was swept under the rug back in the 2010s, and it felt like such a disservice to Hank and Logan that they never got to have this conversation, that they never got to just GO AT one another, everything laid out, all honesty, all feeling. This was, again, just another dream for me, and as far as I'm concerned, this is canon and exactly how it happened.

Now we get into stuff that was more dynamics, and also older threads with are, like, a decade old . . . my X-Force Beast's twisted toxic relationship with dusktrip's Wolverine was a delight, and I miss that writer very dearly (they had to stop RPing due to a lack of time) because it let me just drown in a very dark place for a bit in a very controlled way. They, like themckatriarchy, were integral to me coming to terms with what X-Force did with Hank's character.

There are tons of threads with people like brandisnotmygivenname (Abigail Brand), technarchology (Warlock), hulksdontdoweak (She-Hulk), this-city-is-a-symphony (Dazzler), fangedfirecracker (Jubilee), levoleurcinetique (Gambit), healingtheassassins (Elixir), dontcallmejulio (Rictor) - a lot of people from nearly a decade ago who aren't active anymore, but I still think of them a lot, and a lot of the time, I have to remember that Hank's dynamics and history with these people in canon don't necessarily include these versions of the characters, ha.

But, very formative to my interpretation and exploration and journey with Hank.

As for OCs - I'm sort of a one fictional obsession kinda guy, so I don't really have too many! I did have a guy called Danny Jones who was a mutant based on Tito Bohusk from New X-Men. He was from a Young Avengers RP ages and ages ago, and I think at one point he was going to become a Ghost Rider? It was a long time ago, in fairness.

I also have an AU version of Hank called Sir Henry, codenamed Grandmaster, who's inspired by the Ghost Box steampunk version of Hank and Sublime. Instead of being a scientist, he's a Victorian era spymaster with Hank's typical intelligence, but a lot less of his warmth and ethical consideration. He tended to dual wield pistols a lot.

I actually still have some art a friend of mine did from the Exiles RP he came from. This is her OC, Joan, with whom he had a budding romance.

But, as of late, the biggest one has been The Irredeemable Beast, which has spawned a number of characters, the most significant of which is Zeke.

Zeke has always been a clone of Dark Beast, in my conception of him. I always figured that Dark Beast would absolutely be the type of person to keep spare clone bodies around because, frankly, he keeps wagging his ass at people who are stronger than him and can kill him, and the fact that he kept dying and coming back diminished only solidified to me that he would eventually kick the bucket and need an out.

The version of him in Irredeemable is altered slightly, in that he's a recently created clone of Dark Beast - in the original chain of events, he was released as a kid, along with a twin brother, Strauss, and they grew up relying on each other, eking out a meagre existence by living between the lines. They had full lives, but obviously severely disadvantaged, and hated Dark Beast whenever he was around because, well, why wouldn't they?

Zeke's fun to play around with just because he has a lot of Hank/Dark Beast's perception and wit, but he doesn't have the same level of intelligence, knowledge, privilege, or advantages, so he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder - yet he still tries to have fun, which is very Hank. He's a good grounding presence, which is why I decided to make him a central part of Irredeemable, and I have a good few plans for his arc going forward from Dark Beasts.

His narrative arc is sort of meant to tackle a big problem I had with both X-Force and, more widely, the Krakoan resurrection system, which is the amount of wasted bodies/clones, and the lack of thought put into what's a 'real' life and what isn't.

The whole Talon/Wolverine split is treated completely differently to how the clones in X-Force of both Hank and Logan are treated, and I wanted to unpick that, question exactly what a clone's life is worth, and question why we arbitrarily decided that we put more value on Talon/Wolverine, but carving dozens of Hanks and Logans was perfectly acceptable.

Every one of those Hanks or Logans could have been a valid individual in the exact same way that Ezekiel is, and I want Hank to have to think about that, and be faced with the ethical/existential question of the lives he arbitrarily brought into existence in such a cold, mercenary fashion without any consideration for his responsibility for them.

Zeke is just a really good foil for Hank, and Hank absolutely needs a foil, because his internal monologue is fascinating, but it really can get maudlin and self-involved, so you need to break that up with some youthful 'I don't give a shit' energy, which Zeke provides in spades.

One of the other characters in Dark Beasts, Yekaterina, is a pretty minor character, but pretty much any time I come back to my long term plans for the fic, I keep wanting to give her more to do. I think it's really important to me that X-Men have human characters who are friendly and pro-mutant, who make up the other half of the mutant metaphor, because that's something the comics really did just give up on for the longest time, and it makes such a difference to have a human who's like 'no, fuck Orchis, fuck all these racists, I'm with you because it's the right thing to do.'

I also have a tendency to write exclusively dudes, so Yekaterina and Jennifer Nyles keep being given more and more to do so that I break out of that writing rut. Same thing with Olivia Ocampo, the Orchis commander in Dunfee - I explicitly gave her a Marvel branded alliterative name so that I would use her more, and I know where her story goes. I need to get on that, actually, I want to release that chapter close to Christmas if I can . . .

Gorobitz and Taft are pretty shameless Rosencratz and Guildenstern expies. I like giving goons personalities, and I think it's funny exploring the weeds of the arbitrary distinctions of anti-mutant racism through the lens of a pair of garden variety Orchis grunts. They're gonna turn up in future chapters with similar segments.

I think that covers the majority of it? There are other characters who are going to appear later on, including an Orchis agent that I want to be a bit of a surprise. The entire fic is about the ramifications of Hank's actions and dealing with them, and that agent has a backstory that is all about Hank's actions and what they meant for her, and I think he's gonna struggle not to feel like he should just let her shoot him in the head when he finds out what her deal is.

Thanks for the question! It was a really good one!

[burinazar]

I’ve been in Japan for five days. It’s one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done, maybe the most. At least, I can’t immediately think of any other period of my life that’s offered as much consistent challenge and novelty and made me feel so alive and actually as though I’m living in my own body for such a prolonged period of time. Things seem to go wrong or turn out unexpectedly every day, but I keep landing on my feet and getting more and more excited about the rest of my year here. Guys, I’m very happy. I’m, hmm, not NOT stressed (at certain junctures I have been extremely stressed lol) but it feels like I keep moving forward and it’s really gratifying

The school I work at, which I visited for the first time today, is actually closed until next Friday. Although setting up my apartment is going to use a lot of daylight and energy I should thus have some downtime to blog a bit about my experience so far, and I really intend to, as it’s been a regret of mine that many meaningful periods of my life I didn’t write about my feelings during and then most of my memories poofed into nothing. I should probably also take more pictures or something since I have barely any so far and am definitely not IN any except an airport selfie the first night and some official pics the program took.

Anyway. Stay tuned. Your local (or not so local) Ebil is having all kinds of adventures…

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Can we see arranged!verse meeting batman for the first time?

There was one thing about being married you rather enjoyed. And that was being able to go where you wanted without a chaperone... presumably so long as you didn't abuse it.

Bruce didn't seem to care if you stayed at home at night or not. He really didn't even seem to notice you at all unless there was someone else in the room... You supposed it was better than being monitored constantly. But that didn't mean you weren't lonely.

At least at home. Being out was better. Even if the rain wouldn't stop and the constant drizzle played havoc with your hair. There was some comfort in the noise. In everyone knowing your name... wanting to talk to you. To know you. Girls- women now that had mocked you and been mean to you in school wanted to be your friend. Wanted to be invited to your parties. It was incredible- and overwhelming.

So for a moment, you escaped to the rooftop. Taking a moment to light a cigarette and just watch the city. Cars like ants trail over the streets, following each other to destinations unknown.

You exhale a cloud of smoke and sigh. You should go home. You have an interview to give and you need to write a few letters- but. God it's like rattling around in a tomb.

"Those things will kill you-"

The deep gravelly voice makes you jump and you wheel around, alarmed- and then relieved when it's the Batman instead of a reporter.

"Maybe," you acknowledge, putting it out anyway. "Gonna snitch me out?"

"Not if you tell me what I want to know," he said keeping his distance. You weren't a suspect. So far as he could tell you didn't do anything wrong. But- every crime boss in the city knew you. And had dealings with your father... For now, you might be the safest woman in Gotham. They had a vested interest in keeping you alive. Assuming that your father was working with Bruce Wayne.

"It depends on what you need to know," you tell him honestly. "My father is... old school. Wives and daughters are meant to be seen and not heard-"

"But you have eyes and ears," he snapped, stepping forward. You had to know something.

"I might," you sigh, taking a shaking breath. "But I doubt it. Father is good at keeping us in the dark."

"What do they want with Bruce Wayne?"

"I don't know. I only know they want- well. I'm disappointing them."

"Why?" he growled. Annoyed. Wondering why you weren't afraid of him.

"Because he doesn't- I mean. He doesn't really... want me."

Bruce stepped forward. Making sure he was towering over you, "Why do you think that is?" Bruce challenged, gratified when you rocked back to put some space between you. Weak. You'd been wrapped in cotton wool your whole life. It would be easy to get you to break.

"I don't know," you say softly, wrapping your arms around yourself. "All I know is that if I can't get him to... soon. Well. My father is going to take matters into his own hands and... I don't want to. I can't- I don't know how to- I." You stop, biting your lip and looking away. Feeling stupid. But when a gloved hand tilted your chin up to make you look at him, you shiver. And you don't know if you're afraid or something else.

[mercurygray]

8, 9, and 18 for the 2024 in review fic ask

8. What fic meant the most to you to write?

I think it might have been Reality and Sense, or else Routine. Both of these came out onto the paper exactly as I wanted them to, and I'm really proud of both.

9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? Maybe this is a selfish interpretation of this question, but watching so many people care about Marion made me really happy this year. It was really gratifying watching a lot of people go oh over a character that they might not have otherwise, and I just - yeah, that made me really happy. Seek To Hold The Wind is my least kudos'd MOTA fic but I feel like everyone who liked it really liked it.

18. Share your favorite ending line

I had some goods ones, but it might be the one I just did yesterday -

He wished, looking at her dress and her flowers and the diamond on her hand, that he could honestly say the same.

[2024 year in review]

[clavissionary-position]

Gilbert vs. Azel

(crack but also contains some main story and sequel route spoilers)

Azel: (standing saint-like and unbothered at the end of Gilbert’s pointed cane)

Azel: And now that you’ve learned that little factoid, feel free to donate this—(skewers a receipt onto the cane)—exact amount to me. You know my contact information, right?

Azel: God@TheTemple.com. I’m telling you that free of charge, of course. It’s common knowledge, but it’s okay to be embarrassed if you didn’t know.

Gilbert: Hehe. As it happens, all of your other contact information is also common knowledge. (Retracts his cane to glance at the receipt) To me, anyway.

Azel: I’m happy for you. That means there’s no need to send any more rando princes to my country. It must be gratifying for a mortal to be so creepy, I mean knowledgeable.

Gilbert: Oh no! I’m not the one mystically window-watching into every bedroom ever, am I, Mister God@TheTemple.com?

Azel: May I ask why you seem so envious about that? Your current god complex isn’t lacking by any means.

Gilbert: Well, as you know, you can never know too much. Hehe.

Azel: You’d be surprised. By the way I also charge interest on any pledged donations that aren’t paid off in a timely manner. You will find my rates are completely reasonable.

Gilbert: For a prince.

Azel: For a man with eclectic means.

Gilbert: Ah. (smile deepens) While I’m not Silvio, it’s not a bad idea to attack me through my investments. But unfortunately for you, I don’t pay any bills I can’t read.

Azel: Tsk, tsk. It’s not a good look to lie to an omniscient character.

Gilbert: (pouts) I’m not lying. I mean, this handwriting is pen vomit. It looks like a tiny animal tried to imitate what it thinks a human being writes like.

Azel: (maintains his generous smile even though his eye is twitching) I wrote the receipt out in front of you not even ten seconds ago. Had I known you suffered from such catastrophic lapses in memory, I’d have gone to Prince Chevalier first.

Gilbert: Ahaha! Maybe you should have. He’d have ended this conversation much earlier. With much more blood.

Azel: (grimace) I’m happy we can agree on that much, at least. So in the interest of parting ways as soon as possible… (points at the receipt)

Gilbert: How shameless. So you think you get to order an Obsidianite prince around? I almost admire your foolhardy levels of courage. But I think there’s something that needs to be made clear.

Gilbert: Tigers, you see, are at the top of the food chain. They answer to no man. No god.

Gilbert: Sometimes to bunnies, but that’s the exception, not the rule.

Azel: I don’t contest that. But unicorns, you see…

Azel: (appears to glow under the mid-day sun) …are not even on the food chain.

Azel: (eyes sparkling) They prance-fly in their own pastel dimension, unfettered by this world’s foolish ways and uncivilized biologies.

Gilbert: Hehe, that’s a creative way of saying you’ve noped out of reality.

Azel: (under his breath) Your face is a creative way of saying ‘punch me’.

Gilbert: Hm? What was that?

Azel: (saintly smile) Nothing, nothing. Just praying for you.

Azel: (scribbles an extra surcharge to the receipt) You’re learning so many new things today, Gil. I’m sure you’ll achieve a grown-up’s level of knowledge long before you reach a grown-up’s level of physical stature.

Gilbert: You know, you shouldn’t directly plagiarize insults from whatever is popular at the moment. If it’s too mainstream, it loses its bite.

Gilbert: (dramatic shrug) I really thought a living god would be much more inspired than that, but I guess I was wrong.

Azel: I have better things to do with my time than murder normies, stalk bunnies, and brainstorm funnies.

Gilbert: Are you sure about that? That second point, I mean. A little bunny told me about some very interesting dreams she’s been having as of late.

Azel: (serious expression) I’m glad you brought that up. Can you tell your pet to quit stalking me? I’m a very busy man and I have no interest in starting a harem.

Gilbert: (tilts his head with an evil smile) Tell her yourself.

Azel: …..?

That night in the rosy dream world…

Azel: Oh, goddammit, not this goddamn stupid dream again! (kicks one of the columns) Urgh, that hurts!

Emma: Um, A….zel? Oh hey, I remembered your name this time! Azel, are you here today?

Azel: Of course I’m here. If I’m here, you’re here. If you’re here, I’m here. If you have a cure, I’m all ears.

Emma: Aw, that’s a cute poem.

Azel: Shut-up.

Emma: Right, anyway, I’m sorry about this. (points a gun at him)

Azel: …

Azel: …….

Azel: (watches the crystalized rose on the table begin to rot)

Azel: (sighs)

Azel: Does he want a discount on the bill, is that what this is about?

Emma: (realizes what she’s pointing and scampers to put the gun away) Oh shi… I’m sorry!

Crystalized Rose: (goes back to being uwu)

Emma: I meant to hold out my hand in a truce!

Azel: Truce? I don’t remember being at war with you.

Emma: Apparently we are? Stuff gets twisted around in Gil’s head all the time. Although usually there’s at least a grain of truth to it. But basically I’ll stop stalking your dreams if you stop stalking mine. I don’t know how, but I figure this is a good start.

Emma: (looks up at the dreamy clouds) See, Gil? We’re talking it out. Stop strapping your gun to my thigh while I sleep, please? It tickles and it makes me want to pee!

Azel: This is our dream. He can’t hear you.

Emma: I know, but I heard that if you shout stuff in your dreams, it's more likely you'll remember it when you wake up.

Emma: AZEL IS DEFINITELY THE GUY WE'RE TRYING TO TAKE DOWN IN THE CURRENT STORY ARC!

Emma: I NEED TO STOP CASUALLY TELLING HIM NATIONAL SECRETS!

Azel: (covering his ears) You're the reason I wake up with seven hundred bags under my eyes.

Emma: So... truce?

Azel: Yeah, sure, truce, whatever. (goes to shake her hand)

Emma: (points gun at him again) I'm sorry, I can't let you actually physically touch my hand or Gil will literally kill you.

Azel: THIS IS A DREAM WORLD

Azel: I’m not even going to tell you that your love is cursed. Your entire man is cursed.

[nadjasworkshop]

So...

At least for me, the way the Miguel romance works best is when it doesn't start until after the main quest is complete. Sadly it's way less gratifying in-game, but storywise it all makes perfect sense in my head.

First of all, the way the Water Incident and its immediate consequences overlap with the relationship between Miguel and the builder if they're already together... I don't know if the developers plan to add more content (not keeping my hopes too high tbh) but so far the only thing that changes with the relationship is the explanation he gives the builder after the interrogation, which I find the weakest part of his whole writing (so many powerful lines and then you get this?).

Don't get me wrong, when I created Nadja I knew I was down for the tragedy and I would have gladly bought any other outcome from Miguel no matter how painful it was, but in this case it feels forced and hardly credible to me.

Then there's another issue, more of a personal impression: I have a hard time figuring out how Nadja and Miguel's interactions in the early stage of the story would make the grounds for getting involved romantically. They have as many common points as they have radically opposed intentions and attitudes. And mostly, none of them really want a romantic partner at that point.

This is why I like the story much better if it starts off with a conflicted, contradicting friendship that breaks down because of betrayal, and then starts over after a long time while Miguel is still in jail. The friendship starts healing just when Sandrock's healing is almost complete, and that's when their renewed selves, even under the weight of their own conflicts, start really seeing each other as lovers.

It's sad because with this pacing almost everything happens offstage (since there is barely any in-game interaction with Miguel while in jail). But well, it's a price I have to pay.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I do have a question on writing. My hang up is when I get to sex scenes I don’t fully know how to keep it going. I can and do write them but they take a while for me and I feel like I’m missing something or it feels clunky whenever I finish a scene.

I will say that I have never had sex (vaguely grey asexual…I don’t fully know). I’ve read articles, pages on the internet. I have read a plethora of explicit fanfics. I’ve watched porn (straight/gay/in between).

I try to not so much take inspiration from the sources I’ve experienced/watched, but grasp ideas on how things are done. At the same time, I do feel stilted at times bc idk if it comes across as too rushed or not quite right or not done in that way. I can write the build up just fine. The start of it easily. It’s the middle where I feel I am lacking.

I understand that it’s fanfiction, anything can happen or not happen. At the same time I have no one to talk to about one of the hindrances in my writing.

It doesn’t bother me as a whole but I do wonder/would like to know if you have any tips to be able to keep it going instead of getting to the scene and saying “I’ll come back to it” or writing it and wondering if it seems right/sounds right.

Your writing as well as @happilyhertale has inspired me to figure out/work harder on my sex scenes. Make them, not so much believable, but make them feel, at the very least, plausible.

I do appreciate your time. And answer when you are able to. 🌈

Thank you for thinking of me, and for taking the time to send this ask. I'm more than happy to offer help and advice!

First off, ask yourself, why are you including smut? Can your story not be told without it? Does it actually need it? Do you actually want to include smut?

If the answer to any of those is no, then simply leave it out. Oftentimes the build up and the tension is more gratifying for both writer and reader than the act itself, so get your characters there, then fade into the next scene. A fade to black is a great way to allude to smut without the need to write it - @exitpursuedbyavulcan has done this for a fair few of her fics, and it works really well!

There is a belief in fandom that fics only receive engagement if they have smut, and so writers feel pressured to include it even when they don't want to. And it is true - fics that have smut do perform well, but only among those who are seeking out fics purely for the smut, and that crowd are the ones that go for the porn without plot drabbles. If you're writing longer pieces with multiple chapters then it's safe to assume your audience is there for the story and the characters, they aren't going to care about graphic descriptions of their blorbos getting their cheeks clapped, as long as the intimacy is believable.

HOWEVER. If your answer to any of the questions above was a resounding yes, then give this a read - I hope you'll find it helpful!

Happy writing!

[the-bi-space-ace]

I’ve been wanting to talk about something for a while and I’ve just never felt like I’ve had the right words but I’m going to give it a go now.

In the most caring and open hearted way possible I want to talk about ✨shipping✨so here it goes. This post will move around a lot so please stick with me. Clearly, there’s a world of nuance, and I won’t touch on every single corner of fandom shipping behavior because this post would be miles longer than it already is, but I’ll focus on the broader attitude towards shipping, queerness, and platonic relationships.

I’ve seen plenty of posts about how shipping is cheap. How it’s bad. How it’s ’always about the two men’. How it’s ’not canon so shut up’. How 'straight ships need more of the spotlight'. How ‘nothing’s ever platonic anymore’. Or, my least favorite ‘I don’t like the ship you ship so I think you’re evil, actually, and deserve to be harassed’.

Shipping is a fun part of fandom. As someone who is asexual (demi to be exact) I love a good intense relationship in any form it comes in. Platonic, romantic, sexual. Any of the above really is fun for me to read about and look at art of. I ship plenty of stuff but I also have plenty of platonic relationships that I give the same weight. If not more sometimes tbh. Every relationship I write is intense. It’s wrapped up in deep feelings of love and affection. It’s always going to be that way even if it’s not romantic.

Some people just really love romance and I’ll never ever knock that. Romance is beautiful. It’s lovely and deep and intense and gratifying. It’s a wonderful thing to write about. There’s nothing cheap about it. This demonizing of shipping is really just pushing people further away from a cohesive and accepting fandom space.

There’s been a shift where instead of people just having fun shipping they’ll try to belittle the popular ship, usually the queer ship, and it’s really not getting the message across that you want. What I think some people mean is ‘don’t erase or demonize this female character for your queer ship’ but sometimes what is said is ‘your queer ship isn’t canon you’re an idiot and you’ll never get what you want get over it dick head’. And yeah, there are plenty of people who do, in fact, demonize the female character to ‘justify’ their ship instead. And I think one of the primary problems here is this idea that you have to justify your ship. That it has to make sense. That one ship has to be horrible and toxic to make yours superior.

That isn’t the case.

The same goes for the ‘well my ship is canon so get over it that person will never be queer’. It’s just mean spirited and unnecessary. Sure, I may know a specific ship will never happen but I’m shipping it anyway. Because it’s fun! And I like it! And I'm queer as hell! Of course I want my ships to be queer. Claiming some kind of superiority because your ship is ‘canon’ is ridiculous. This is a dollhouse. We’re playing with dolls. Barbie can kiss whoever she wants because this is my dollhouse and you have yours. It’s all fine.

You can enjoy your ship and let people enjoy theirs and keep your mouth shut when someone ships something you don't like. It really is that simple. No, the straight ship is not toxic just because you don't like that ship and no the queer ship isn't cheap and awful just because it's queer and you don't ship it. It doesn't need to be some attack on you or your ship just because someone ships something else. They can simply ship other things. And we can all have fun, shipping multiple things. It doesn't have to be a contest. It shouldn't be.

I want to touch on platonic relationships for a bit because it’s a relevant topic while talking about shipping and being someone who writes a ton of Gen fic I want to discuss it in more depth.

There is a lack of acceptance of platonic relationships between characters. That or it’s usually belittled for the romance, pushed aside, devalued. And this does happen a lot. It’s hard, it sucks, and I struggle with that sometimes too. No, not everything is romantic, but that doesn’t mean it matters less. It's a sad thing to see and experience especially as someone who has had friendships that have fundamentally changed me as a person and I value those friendships so much it hurts. Friendship does not equal less than and sometimes it is treated that way.

However, I’ve seen this sentiment that you should blame shippers having their fun time and belittle them for shipping something that you might see as platonic. Because it is their fault for 'being sex obsessed' and 'making everything romantic'. And this just doesn’t sit right with me. Because there is literally no issue with either.

If your goal is to get people to care more about platonic relationships then shame is never going to be the answer. Shame does not work as a tactic. It just serves to belittle and hurt the other person. It can actually make them more resistant in the first place. Again, shame is not a productive tactic when trying to get someone to try something new. So much of this argument relies on shaming shippers, shaming queer shippers. It doesn't sit right with me. It never has. Shipping and liking sex are not shameful things. Shippers are not the enemy and they shouldn't be seen like that.

Teen Wolf comes to mind when thinking of this. Several long standing friendships that I’ve loved watching evolve exist in that show. They show genuine closeness and love and it’s platonic in the show between several main characters. Which is awesome. I love Lydia and Allison, best friends, perfect matches, support each other until the end and also Scott and Stiles childhood best friends with each other until the end and never wavering one bit. I love their commitment to each other. It’s beautiful. Seeing them commit to each other and never treat each other as less than their romantic counterparts in the show was excellent for my teenage brain. And, ya know what, it still is as an adult.

I also don’t think someone shipping a pair like Scott and Stiles ever cheapened my love of their friendship. I just don’t see it that way. Maybe it’s because I am often able to enjoy a wide variety of aspects in fandom, even the ones that aren't my 100% cup of tea. I was introduced to fandom super young and was well versed in the concept of ship wars and I was around for the ‘super gay hell’ fiasco. I have been supportive of the ‘ship and let ship’ concept forever and will be forever. I genuinely hate the concept of a nOTP and will not participate in shutting down other ships for no reason, even ones I don't personally ship.

Because that is not the fandom I want to participate in.

I've seen what happened in the Star Wars fandom before I was a part of it. I have read the posts, I have heard the horror stories, I have been shocked and appalled and I'm still grappling with if this is a fandom I really want to invest my time, energy, and creativity into. A place filled with so much hate and negativity that I have thought of turning away, leaving, abandoning works I've longed to write, simply because I can't seem to resolve this fandom that has been so kind to me with the one that has genuinely harmed so many people. I write primarily Gen fic because it is what usually captures my interests. The intensity of a relationship outside of a romantic or sexual tie. One that is reliant solely on the affection and care between characters who are just like that about each other. And that has seemed to garner way less hate and toxicity than those who participate in shipping on the regular. So, is everyone actually nice or are you only nice to me because you see me as worthy of your respect because of what I do or don't ship? Have you ever thought about that? Because I have. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Now, I don’t really ship the straight ships, but I don’t think you’re evil for doing so. I like my media queer, everyone else can like their media however they like, and we can all coexist as long as no one starts getting weird about it.

I think we do need more diverse representation for sexuality and different types of relationships in canon and fanon because it’s all a big ecosystem and it needs variety to survive and appeal to more people, but I also don’t think the burden of that should fall on the fans. We shouldn’t be pushing fans to abandon their preferred ship bc not enough people like the relationship the way you do. That’s unrealistic. What we should be doing is focusing on doing things the way we specifically like them done. I love intense relationships and primarily it ends up being platonic, that doesn't mean you need to see it or write yours that way. If I do what I love and you do what you love chances are we are all going to find our people and it's going to be a lot of fun. I'm not going to scoff at you for shipping a ship I don't. That's silly. I hope you enjoy reading them falling in love a thousand different times in a thousand different ways in a thousand different universes. I hope it makes you happy. I may even want to read some of your faves too, if you share them with me.

I think fans should ship whatever they want. I think if you like the straight ship, if you prefer the queer ship, if you prefer platonic relationships then have at it. Do your thing. Have fun in the way you want to have fun and be unapologetic about it. Ship rare pairs. Ship people from different tv shows. Ship what makes your heart feel full and happy.

But don’t go on rampages against other people’s ships just because you personally don’t like them.

It’s okay to feel frustrated that the way you like to participate isn’t the most popular way. It’s okay to feel frustrated that there aren’t more characters who are ace or bisexual or strictly platonic. It’s okay to feel frustrated about that. But it is not the fandom’s job to create that for you. Don’t go after people just happily shipping their characters. Don’t draw a line between us as if we can’t all just get along in our little bubbles. This is supposed to be fun. Our fantasy world where anything can happen and it all does happen. A beautiful little town where we hand out fics and art like they’re a fresh batch of bread we made that we want to share. Dividing us only leads to fandoms fizzling out and that’s not what anyone wants, now is it?

All of this to say that I love the big wide world that is fandom. I have read some things I never thought I would, seen some art I didn't expect to like, and made a lot of really great friends throughout the years. And, hey, we may not ship the same thing. I may not seem like the type of person you want to associate or talk with, but I hope that I've built a space that says 'you come as you are and I come as I am' because I know so deeply how it feels to be ostracized because of something other people didn't like about me. I know how it feels to be left out, to be hated, to be bullied, to be harmed by other people. And I never want to be someone who does that to other people.

So, hey, if you aren't sure about all of this discourse then maybe this has helped at least show you a different perspective even if it didn't change your mind. Fandom is supposed to be for everyone and it hasn't actually been for everyone... maybe ever. We still have a long way to go, as much as we may start to believe we have reached a peak, or allow ourselves to get complacent.

Fandom should be for everyone and I hope I live to see the day that it is.