#everythig will b okay

[merioux]

im gonna be honest nobody in the ostc fucking likes me asides from my friends since a little something happened and it somewhat crapped down my "reputation" i guess. i need to come over that aand accept that if it wasnt over my designs and art id be given a weird look 24/7. lol. someone tried ruining my chances of being a guest artist of something just because we dont like eachother and someone else ripped off my oc because we dont like eachother people want me gone ahhhhhhhh i wish i could completely migrate to the lisa fandom but im a bit too young for that rn, atleast in my own opinion. i dont want to risk it taking a toll on my mental health considering lisa is one hell of a game LOL. i love this game but id prefer waiting that im a bit older to make it the "only" thing idk how to put it in words??? im bad at explainig aghhhhhh; i genuinely cant believe the community of a game so life ruining has been way nicer to me than a community of trading fucking objects with limbs like pokemon cards. idont really care anymore but its sad ppl dont really like me alot, however im glad ppl like my lisa stuff though i feel happier focusig on that and my friends an drawing . ah

funny cat video

[apopcornkernel]

thank u sm @lisascumslut78 for the tag mwah kiss tayo

how many works do you have on ao3?

48 on apopcornkernel and 23 on poppyf1owers!! the numbers aren't the same as on my profile bc i have some anon works hehe. so that's 71 in total! woag

what's your total ao3 word count?

136,751 on apopcornkernel and 50,067 on poppyf1owers, making 186,818 in total!!! and i have around 70k lying scattered around in my wip drive so :>

what fandoms do you write for?

i started with miraculous ladybug, dipped my toe in asoiaf (specifically jaime/brienne), went into genshin & hsr, and rn all my current writing is going into dc!!

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

all this, and love too — spy x family — a whopping 4,379 kudos (??? still don't understand how)

lesterlicious — trials of apollo — 980 kudos (okay woag did not realize the numbers were that big now)

a fine bird nests wisely — hsr, jingfu — 384 kudos (one of my personal favorites dont read the others here just read my jingfu <3)

a chat in disneyland — miraculous ladybug — 337 kudos

Enough — miraculous ladybug — 327 kudos

do you respond to comments?

yes of course!! im just really bad at keeping up but i read and treasure each comment i promise 🥹

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i have an unfinished jingfu fic (propaganda movement chinoy au) where there will be major character death! im really looking forward to finishing that one

as for published works, my friend sent me death threats when i posted redder than february flowers (hsr/jingfu), so I'll answer with that :3

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i think it's gotta be all the stars crowd around the moon <3 just softness and love and warmth <3

do you get hate on fics?

i was about to say i thankfully dont but then i suddenly remembered that single comment i got on a fine bird nests wisely KNCNDVSHAHS let me just grab it for your viewing:

THIS WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE ON THAT AO3 I HAVE A FIC WHERE CHARACTER A TORTURES CHARACTER B AT THE BEHEST OF SOMEONE ELSE, AND THEN PROCEEDS TO MURDER INNOCENT SUBORDINATES AGAINST CHARACTER B'S WISHES TO ENSURE THERE ARE NO WITNESSES. AND ANON CHOSE TO COMMENT ON PURE BIRD FU XUAN SILLINESS 😭😭😭😭😭

do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i do! i have! there's one published (among our other torments not the least) which is wriolyney hate/desk sex, and there's an arlefuri one in my wips which will remain a secret until i finish writing it hehehe cant go spoiling the content yk

do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

i dont think i have :0 but i like to transfer concepts into another media, like for example yelone (yelan/pantalone) in a death in the nile plot, or crimson peak !!

have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope, or at least not to my knowledge LOL pls dont do it though

have you ever had a fic translated?

nope! i once wrote just dialogue for a liubai fic in my terrible chinese, tho, and then i translated it into english and added description and everythig!! here it is with the translation

have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes!! i dont think im cut out for it tho because im very bad at powering thru wips. i cant turn my writing on and off like a spigot :(

what's your all time favourite ship?

this is sososo hard and sososo evil but i guess jingfu </3 not thinking much about it rn tho bc im busy witj dc huhu

what's a WIP you want to finish but sometimes doubt you ever will?

JINGFU CHINOY PROPAGANDA MOVEMENT AU, dinahbabs fake dating, vichelena post-breakup situationship, hawk & dove aftermath of titans burning rage and legion of bloom in connection with the mordru arc, yelone crimson peak au, SO MANY . SO SO SO SO MANY

what are your writing strengths?

i genuinely don't know anymore bc my writing changes sm all the time. uhhh. i know how to perfectly format dialogue tags?

what are your writing weaknesses?

i hate starting things i hate too much description,, im also prone to really really long sentences, which i try to cut in half when editing, but sometimes im too tired to edit so...

thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

girl im filipino wdyt HAHA

serious answer: absolutely. just make sure your target audience will be able to comprehend ur meaning. do this by either making a translation easily accessible without extra steps, or by making a translation obsolete by clarifying the meaning within the text!

or if you're writing, say, maria clara at ibarra fic, just write in taglish bc ur readers are almost all gonna be filipinos anyways LOL

first fandom you wrote for?

miraculous 😞😞😞 ladybug 😞😞😞😞😞 i wrote a chloe fic for an english assignment it was really bad but it was my first real story ever HAHA

favorite fic you've written?

VERY HARD especially since some of them aren't even published yet. but i will have to go with, again, redder than february flowers <3

tagging: @queer-cosette @theladyfae @hanaasbananas uhh anyone else who sees this and is a writer!!!! thank you for reading til the end LOL

[holyjimn]

@lawlliets 's love for suho is going to be one of the reasons i can get thru this comeback

[arlandvery]

Hen, Chick (and Hawk)

A concept sent to @yandere-love-love-love got me started on this fic, and the first thing I’ve written on my new laptop! Still getting used to the keyboard and it sucks! :D Anyhooo, this is written from the pov of the kid, purely because I thought it would be a bit more interesting.

You didn’t like the new apartment.

It was small; your apartment was nicer. It was big. Daddy called it an eyrie. Your room at home was big and soft- it had to be, to accommodate your wings (you were big enough now that you could keep your flapping under control, but it was annoying at home, where the worst meant Mommy and Daddy finding out you lied about brushing your teeth,but here that meant knocking into something, and after a couple of weeks your wings were sore). You didn’t have any toys here either, and that was no fun.

Mama liked it here though, you could tell.

You didn’t get it.

At home, Mama didn’t need to work. She didn’t have to leave. She could play with you all day if she wanted, or lay in bed all day. But now Mama went to work every day and left you with an elderly neighbor named Mrs. Saito. Mrs. Saito was nice, you guessed, but she was old, and didn’t really want to play, or do anything very interesting.

You missed Daddy.

You wanted him here, now. But Mama wouldn’t let call him, or tell you what was going on.

It all got fuzzy when Daddy had to leave town- he said he’d be gone for two weeks, but he’d bring back lots of presents to make up for it. Mama had hugged him tight when he left, and cuddled you when you started siffling. That day, Mama was jittery. She kept disappearing into hers an Daddy’s room. When Daddy called that night, to tell them good night, Mama had picked up and told im about her day, then let you talk to him. 

But the moment that you were off the phone, she’d said you were leaving.

And you didn’t have any choice but to go with her.

You slept in the car the first night. Then you walked everywhere. There was a tiny motel room where the water was brown and the sheets had cigarette burns. It took two weeks for Mama to find a job and another month to get the apartment.

“When can we see Daddy?” You whined that night as Mama tucked you into bed. 

Mama frowned and looked down at you, carefully tucked away for sleep, your wings folded gingerly.

“We aren’t.” She admitted, and you didn’t understand. Why wouldn’t you go home? Wasn’t this just a vacation?

“B-but I want Daddy!” You whined, your eyes getting hot with unshed tears. Mama sniffled and climbed into bd beside her, pulling you close.

“I know baby, but it’s better this way.”

But you didn’t understand.

So Mama told you a story.

It wasn’t a nice story.

But you never asked when you were going back to Daddy again.

You think about your Dad more than you want to admit.

It’s hard not to think of him, when wings sprout from your back, soft white and itching to fly. But you don’t, because that quirk would be too noticeable.

(Mom paid someone in the Quirk Registration offices to lie- you’ve got a weak quirk on paper, something about sensing changing wind currents. You don’t fly. Your wings are always folded neatly beneath your clothes, feathers plucked as soon as they grow in.

Mom cries every time you do it.

But she doesn’t stop you.)

You look like him too. You hate that.

But Mom doesn’t flinch when you move too quickly (a memory that you recovered when you were ten), or spend a scary amount of time with hat blank-faced stare when you do something that reminds her of him anymore (something that she did but used to hide). So things are okay.

You think about the story.

(The first time she told it, it was the bare bones.

There was a man who fell in love with a very unlucky woman.

He followed her and learned everythig about her; her name, where she lived, what she did, what she wanted.

And he approached her and wooed her and she loved him so much. Everything moved so fast her head spun, but that was alright, she thought, because she loved him.

She married him.

And then things got bad.)

Things are nice now. Normal. You’ve moved out of the dingy apartment and the gross hotel room. Now you live in a nice neighborhood. Mom has friends that she goes out with on Thursday nights. You usually hang out on Sundays- they remind you of when you were little and it was just you and Mom, because Dad-

(Her new husband always wanted to know where she was. He always kept her busy, and soon her other friends faded away. He was angry whenever she suggested going back to work because he could provide- why would she need to work? 

She let him isolate and manipulate her until one day she went out without telling him.

For no reason she decided one day that she wanted to go out. If he loved her, she said to herself, he’d understand her need to breathe, to be away from him, just for awhile.

She didn’t do much that day, just walked around. Did some window shopping.

But she never entertained the thought of calling her friends. Or leaving him.

When she came back that evening, he was waiting at the door for her. He dragged her inside and that was the first time he hit her.)

Mom’s gonna be late tonight, so you’re probably just gonna get pizza and do your homework. You’re thinking about calling your friend Chi and bitching over the latest garbage episode of your guys’ least favorite show that you both watch unironically.

You like Chi because his favorite hero wasn’t Hawks. Well, there was more to it than that, but it made your friendship easier, purely because you didn’t have to look at your Dad’s smug PR smile on his merch everywhere when you went to his house. Chi preferred All-Might, something you both had in common.

 But the thing is, you feel uneasy.

It’s nothing new, you always feel like that. Anxiety, Mom calls it, looking guilty. So you don’t tell her about it. It’s not her fault that you’re always scared that Dad’s coming, that he’ll find you both. You keep your long nights secret- nights where your breath is shallow and rattles in your throat and you can’t breathe because you’re so sure that he’s outside the window waiting waiting waiting

But you get home without incident. You unlock the door, lock it behind you, change into some sweatpants and text Mom you made it home safely. Then you study- math’s kicking your ass. You learn better by doing, and sitting still has and always will be a nightmare.

Mom says you get that from him.

But she didn’t sound sad when she said it. You’d been in the teacher’s office, again, because you didn’t get it, you got frustrated, so you lashed out. Mom had to leave work. You felt awful. But she didn’t yell at you or anything. She let the teacher talk, agreed you were in the wrong and then you talked about it at home. When you finally told her how hard it was she’d nodded and petted your hair.

“We’ll work on it together.”

And you did.

You learned how to listen, how to pay attention. Little tricks.

You’re not stupid, you just needed extra attention.

(And not because you don’t have a dad, like the PTA mom’s hush-whisper about)

Around 6 you order pizza, checking your phone. Chi hasn’t called you back. Mom’s messaged you to remind you not to stay up too late and that she loves you.

Love you too, ma, you text back.

(After that, her husband didn’t let her leave the house. He kept her locked in the bedroom. Sometimes he drugged her to keep her quiet. He’d come home and fix dinner and bring her out and feed her as if she were some pet.

But now the woman knew what kind of man she’d married. She began to fight him, using the pain to spur her onward.

One night she nearly got away.

But by nearly, she almost made it to the door. 

Her husband dragged her back to the bedroom and he hurt her.

-Mom shows you the scars on her back when you’re 10, because you didn’t know how bad it was and you wanted to know.

You traced the scarring carefully, with gentle fingers. You could imagine the feather in Dad’s hand. Brighter red than the blood welling up. He’d taken care that it was scar, would pull if she moved a certain way.

Hawks, the letters said, because she’d never escape being his-

And after that she couldn’t fight him, because then she was going to have a baby.)

You take a break after you order. Your eyes are starting to ache and your hand is cramping. You could call it a night reasonably. Instead you shower and unbind your wings, sighing as you flex them. You’d be lying if you sad that you didn’t worry about what the constant plucking and binding was doing to your wings. 

There’s a knock on the door and you scramble to grab your wallet.

“Coming!” You shout, running because, well, pizza.

But when you open the door and standing there, holding the pizza box is your Dad, smiling like nothing is wrong. Like you saw each other this morning, not 6 years ago. Like he isn’t a monster.

“Dad,” you say quietly, gripping the door. His smile is every bit as predatory as his name.

“Hey eyas! Gonna let your old man in?” You notice that his foot is wedged against the door. You couldn’t close it if you wanted. Or, rather, if you had the presence of mind. 

But all you can think about are the scars on your Mom and how much he scares her still. What will he do to you?

Dad’s still waiting, and laughs a little, “c’mon kiddo, pizza’s getting cold. We can catch up til your Mom gets home!” There, there’s that darkness that you know is there, never noticed as a kid.

Wordlessly, you step aside and let him in, trying not to tremble.

You know what he is, and you hate him. But that’s still your Dad. And he wants to know all about you.

“You don’t deserve to know me!” You snap, interrupting his steady stream of questions as he goes through your phone. You shove your pizza away and stand up to leave- to run.

But your Dad’s wing flares out, blocking the door and cornering you. Dad just looks up at you without moving his head.

“Kiddo, sit down. We’re gonna have a talk now, okay?”

You know what he can do with those wings. Mom tortures herself and watches his televised fights. There’s a reason that he’s #2. So you sit your ass down. He nudges the pizza towards you again.

“Tell me, why don’t I deserve to know you? Is it because I didn’t find you immediately when your Mom had a moment of insanity and stole you?” You open your mouth, but he keeps talking, eyes flashing. “Do you have any,” he takes a deep breath and tries to lower his voice, “any idea what it was like when I came home and you both were gone? Bags packed, no note, your mom’s ring just there on the counter-!”

“You can’t even tell the truth now, can you!” You demand, because damn the neghbors, hopefully they’ll cal the cops. “You called her nightly to make sure she was where you put her! How long until you rushed home because you knew she’d found a way out, a way to get us out and stay safe-”

“Safe?!” He snarled, “I finally track you down and you’re terrified of me, your wings are- are plucked, living illegally-”

“Mom has a legal job-!”

“Lying to the Quirk Registry Office is a crime, along with kidnappig.”

“You kidnapped her! You isolated her and hurt her and raped-”

His backhand is sharp and snaps your head to the side.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Hawks voice is dangerously low, and goosebumps break out on your skin. Your cheek hurts- it’s gonna bruise. But you don’t move. “I love your mother, I did everything for her, to keep her safe, and happy. Sometimes people don’t know what they want,” remarkably, he smiles again, and you want to hurl. “She needed me, and she needed a baby- and now she needs to be reminded exactly why you don’t kidnap your child and hide them for 6 years.”

“Dad-”

“Love is a beautiful thing, kiddo,” he cups your hand and curls his wing around you, and you stifle a sob.

You...you have good memories of your Dad.

Memories that you don’t like thinking about, because he’s a monster, good memories of him aren’t fair.

But dad taught you how to groom your wings and held you when you were scared. He took you to the doctor when you got sick and surprised you in the morning with omelettes and cheese because he wanted to show his family that he loved them. When sat on his lap he’d wrap his wings around you and you felt warm and safe and you’re crying now, you can’t help it as he hugs you close and strokes your hair.

“Love is so beautiful, and I can’t let anything ruin that,” he coos, kissing your head. 

[critical-scarss]

me.

i obsess over things way too much. ever since around primary school i have. it was my second last year in and i became obsessed with music. i still am obsessed with music but more so, i used to be obsessed with 5 seconds of summer.

they were my life, they’re still such a big part of my life. they’ve hoenstly helped me through so much. and one of the main reasons i attached to them so tightly was because i was alone. looking back now i had no one, i was actually an outcast. i am different. i was weird to other people.

i sought out comfort and friends in my obsessions.

i change my obsessions to what i feel most comfortable with and what makes me the happiest at the low moments. i sought out comfort in some actual friends that i knew and some of their obsessions had become mine.

i became obsessed with 5 seconds of summer through a friend, A

i became obsessed with troye sivan through a friend, B

i became obsessed with pierce the veil, sleeping with sirens, black veil brides through a friend, T

i became obsessed with teen wolf, the vampire diaries, the originals, through friends

panic at the disco, with confidence, twenty one pilots. through friends.

i have these memories that i cling onto. to make myself not feel so lonely.

i have the memories of me and my friend S crying about teen wolf, the vampire diaries and the originals together. i have the memory of us seeing panic at the disco live. she screamed when time to dance car on. i cried to her about people leaving me in the past during this is gospel. i have the memory of her leaving. i have the memory of her coming back.

i have the memories of me and my friend N meeting. it was orientation day at our high school. we were so small. and we’ve grown up so much and i’m so lucky to have grown up next to her. i’ve known her for four years of my life. i couldn’t have asked for someone better to be my best friend, to be my family. i have the memory of us binge listening to the neighbourhood together. we found the neighbourhood through the originals, we were watching one episode and we heard let it go playing. and we decided that we liked this band. i remember when we were younger i found out that she liked panic at the disco and fall out boy. we were so alike but yet we were so different. i have the memory of crying into her neck as she hugged me and told me that she’d never leave, this was during this is gospel. i have the memory of her crying with me because i was being hurt by someone that i loved leaving. she hasn’t left yet. i have pushed her away, but she came back.

i have bad memories of some friends, there’s A and there’s B and there’s T.

i saw 5 seconds of summer and troye sivan live with B. me and her met on the internet. she was like a sister to me too. we don’t speak at all anymore.

then there is J. J is different for so many reasons. i am in love with J. i’d kiss her and hug her and everythig would be okay. i pushed her away. i messes up so fucking much. i pushed away the one person that made me feel so alive.

i remember the first time we hugged.

i remember the time i tried to be all smooth and asked for a kiss.

i remember the first time we actually did kiss. i tried to do it first but i placed my hands on her shoulder. but then she pushed off my hands and grabbed my face and pulled me in.

i remember the butterflies i’d get whenever she kissed me. whenever she told me she loved me.

i remember the first time she slept over mine. i cleaned up my room, it took all night. i even made my bed for her.

i remember loving her. i remember caring for her so deeply that i ignores everything else that was around me.

i remember just adoring her and her family and everyone around her.

but then i remember caring about her too much. the day i realised she meant way too much to me. that i just couldn’t have anyone else loving her.

i remember crying to her for hours about me being worried that she’d not love me anymore. that was the last time she slept over. we were in my bed and the lights were off and i just started crying as i laid on her chest. she asked me what was wrong and i told her i couldn’t lose her.

i remember when i was at her house and i was sitting on the other side of the bed with my legs crossed. i started crying and she came over to me and asked me what was wrong. i told her i couldn’t ever handle losing her. i never wanted to lose her. i never wanted her to let me push her away.

i remember the day she said she wanted to go on a break. i remember seeing the text while listening to winter by pvris on repeat. i broke down. i couldn’t control myself i was screaming. at my parents to come pick me up from the train station. i was trying to hold in all the tears but the moment i got home i was a mess. i cried and screamed and i just kept screaming that i needed J. i can’t not have j with me.

i remember the day that she said that we could still be friends and if i got better mentally then we could try again. i remember breaking down again and having a panic attack right in front of her. my three friends were there too. my closest friend, he held me while i cried into J. i have never cried this much about a person.

j meant the world to me. i didn’t mean to hurt j. i never meant to hurt her.

i cried and i cried and i just felt like screaming but we were at school and i just couldn’t stop crying. and i just cried into her and i couldn’t breathe.

i remember when she was messaging her ex. i cried to her and begged her not to go back to him because he hurt her. not because i was jealous but purely because he hurt her and he caused her so much pain and he can’t just come back into her life and say that it was a misunderstanding an for everything to be okay.

she said she wouldn’t go back to him. but she did. i remember she told me she was in love with him practically the whole time she was with me.

i was telling her that i loved her with all my heart and i was crying my heart out to her because i was afraid that she’d leave. but she never put all her heart into us because her heart still partially belonged to him.

i remember when she told me she didn’t want to be friends at all anymore. i admit i said some bad things and i acted out in such a bad way. but i never did this while we were actually together. she told me she didn’t want to be friends. i snapped and just started screaming. maybe at her, but maybe more so at myself.

i never thought about anyone else when we were together. i still really don’t think about anyone else at all.

my friends think i’m fine now but i’m not even sure if i’m fine. i keep trying to forget her and repress every memory i have of her. but i hold on to the fact that if i got better maybe she could come back. just maybe. i don’t know.

no one notices that i’m obsessing over criminal minds so much. i’m getting so emotionally attached to this show. i did this when A left with 5 seconds of summer, i did this when B left with troye sivan, i did this when S left, N, i do this every time but they still don’t realise.

i’m trying to forget her. but i just can’t

no matter how many episodes i watch. i can’t fucking forget her.

this probably makes absolutely no sense to anyone that is reading this but god it makes too much sense to me.

i’m sorry j.

i really never wanted it to be like this.

i’m so fucking sorry.

please believe me.

i need you so much still.

i don’t know how to keep going. im holding on for you but i’m not entirely sure if i am able to hold on anymore.

[hat-thief-thoughts]

Topic: Lists

People call me cumpulsive and esentric when I want to make a list, and maybe I am. I mean I know lists come in handy like for groceries, to-dos, etc. but I like making lists for everything it makes me feel more in control when I know I really don't have control over anything...

People like to pretend that is you do steps 1,2 and 3 You will get from point A to point B. But in reality unexpected things happen which throw off your whole plan and you can't just say "ok Il deal with that after I finish my plan." You have to deal with it right then and MAYBE finish your plan but more than likely you will have to come up with a whole new plan.

I wish I could just "go with the flow" and be okay with just "knowing" everythigs gonna be ok... but I need some structure... I can't just hope that it's gonna be okay without feeling like I'm working toward my end goal. I don't know, I just with I wasn't the only one who makes lists for everything...