#for being a writer is really difficult for me to put into words just how much y’all’s nice words mean to me

[uhohdad]

Hi!

I really loved mein perle and the hunger games au so much. The way you write Konig is so complex and skillfully done your writing is a work of art.

I just have a question the tribute from district 8 and what he did to the poor girl is there any real reason why he did it? Did he have a motif? Was it a reflection of what could have happened to Konig and reader if he held resentment towards her? Idk...

Thank you!!!

first of all tysm ily ily ily <3 bonkers to me that y’all actually enjoy my silly goofy stories. warms my lil heart yes it does yes it does 💞🩷💖💕💓💗💞💗🩷 AND y’all still snacking on meine perle????? wild. god i love this community so much.

so glad y’all like the different ways i paint konig. i know there’s a lot of different preferences out there so that fact y’all are connecting with my portrayal is - qhshzhqbab. playing with konig’s character is such a blast bc there’s so much you can do with him i love that about our mysterious hooded beefcake

as for the question about district 8 - his motivation and more will be revealed in The Aftermath - but i will say that i tried to craft a heavy theme of spite being a character’s downfall in this story, so my intention was to have it parallel to the whole “i will double down on my spite even if it kills me” mindset that we see from Reader, even right from the start. there is a bit more of ‘symbolism’ in regards to the reason he did do it that does happen to parallel to Konig & Reader, but i don’t want to spoil anything :)

thanks for asking <3 🥹🥹<3

⌜ KONIG X READER HUNGER GAMES AU ⌟

⌜ MEINE PERLE OCTOKONIG X READER ⌟

[amuyyi]

she wants me (to be loved) .

synopsis; you have always loved huh yunjin, but not in the way she loved you.

trope; huh yunjin x f!reader, angst, unrequited (?) love, bittersweet ending

wc; 4.6k

cw; idk like one cuss word LMAO

a/n; i swear im still in forever writers block but THIS FIC IS INSPIRED BY THE SHE WANTS ME TO BE LOVED WARRIOR CATS AMV ON YOUTUBE ITS ABOUT BLUEFUR AND THRUSHPELT PLEEEEK WATCH IT AND/OR LISTEN TO THE SONG WHILE READING IM JUST SO ARRGGHHH also its almost 4 am i am half asleep i just realllyy wanted to finish this. also i used to be a theatre kid so.

You have always loved Huh Yunjin. But not in the way she loved you.

You recall very vividly the first day you met her.

It was the middle of freshman year of high school, and you had just moved into New York from out of state. Your father had just gotten a new job opportunity, and practically wasted no time packing all of your things to move in the middle of the school year. Perfect. New place, new faces, and definitely no friends. Everything an emotional teenage girl needed in a cruical stage of her development. All of the other students in your classes were nice enough, but everyone already had their established friend groups by now, and you simply didn't fit what they were looking for.

Despite the different environment, there was one thing that this school provided that provided some sort of familiarity.

Theater.

Back in middle school and for the brief semester you had in your old high school, you had always been a fan of the big stage. The music, the dramatics, the acting… It was all so whimsical and alluring to you. How could you not get involved?

(Okay, honestly.. You had gotten really into musical theater in middle school once you found a Hamilton animatic and it became your sole personality trait for a good two years or so–)

Unfortunately, you were too much of a coward to truly put yourself out there like the actors around you. High school insecurities and poor self esteem truly did take its toll on you back then. So instead, you settled for being part of the stage crew. 

You thought that getting involved with a club would make it easier for you to socialize and make friends. You could join a community. Yet somehow, it made everything all the more difficult.

Everybody seemed to already know each other and have their own established friends. On top of that, everyone also seemed to know who they hated as well. You would always overhear what other actors and techies would say about one another and it only just put you off from making friends even more. The whole environment was incredible… cliquey. 

Still, you had nothing else better to do, so you stayed. It was… Fine. You still had no real friends, but you did enjoy doing various tasks around the stage. Working with stage lights, helping prepare costumes, painting backdrops. It keeps you busy. It was routine.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight to walk in on actors practicing their lines or their songs backstage. Back home, you knew everyone involved within the production– including the actors. You would always compliment them and occasionally even provide help whenever you didn’t have your own techy jobs to fulfill. The main problem? This isn't home. Nobody here was your friend.

But when you found a pretty girl practicing for this semester's production of Phantom of The Opera in an empty hallway, you couldn't help but stop in your tracks and stare. You’ve never seen her before. Well, it's not like you bothered to pay much attention to the people around you anymore— but you feel like you wouldn't miss a face like hers.

She had the prettiest brown hair with highlights and the cutest beauty mark near the corner of her mouth. She was pacing around the hall, script in hand as she did various vocal exercises. The sound of her voice echoes off the walls, and it was just as angelic as she looked. 

“Prima Donna, your song shall live again…!” She sings out, her voice at a steady yet powerful vibrato throughout her verse. Her Bel Canto was skilled and practiced, and you can't help but wonder how long she’s been doing this for. Surely she’s overqualified for a simple high school production? You needed to hear more…

She moves her hands in elegant and dramatic forms as she immerses herself into the self-centered character of Carlotta. She played the roke perfectly, considering how most definitely had your attention now.

 “You took a snub, but theres a public who needs you, think of the cr—“

A loud thud rings throughout the hallway, startling the mystery opera singer as well as yourself. Shit. You look down and see the culprit. Well, it was you. you caused the interruption— but more specifically, it was a freshly decapitated mannequin head with a wig you were going to more securely attach to the top. It was a bit of a horrific sight, in all honesty.

Now that you think about it, this prop might actually be for her. Though you didn't have much time to ponder that thought considering the mysterious brown haired beauty has now caught you eavesdropping on her singing.

The head rolls across the tile floor and lands at her feet. You feel your face warm to what was most likely a bright tomato red as she picks it up by its shortened neck, the wig threatening to fall off as it dangles limply off of the top of its head.

“I'm assuming this is yours?” She smiles kindly at you, though a bit wary. Understandable, really. You would be wary of yourself too if you were in her shoes.

“Y-Yeah, sorry…” you nervously laugh, taking the head from her hands as you try to pat the wig back into place. 

“You sounded good, by the way!” You quickly stammer out, absentmindedly hugging the head to your chest, “Like… really good. Seriously.”

The mystery girl laughs at your flustered words, and she waves her hand dismissively. Her cheeks warm bashfully as she shakes her head.

“Thanks but… I have a lot to work on. My tones off, and I still need to memorize these lines by tomorrow…” she trails off, moving to press her back against the wall, sliding and sitting down on the floor.

Fiddling a bit with the mannequin head, you don't allow yourself to think too hard before you suddenly blurt out.

“I-I can help!”

You watch as her pretty brown eyes widen slightly, and

“Really? You sure you arent too busy?

You were actually quite busy, but she didnt have to know that.

“Of course not,” you lie confidently, sticking a hand out, “I’m y/n.”

She eyes your hand curiously, but ultimately shakes it, “Yunjin. Jennifer, if you’d like.”

From then on, you would spend every other day after school with Yunjin, helping her recite her lines, fitting her for costume changes, and even finishing that mannequin head prop for her.

Soon after, your after school hangouts turned into out of school hangouts and then eventual sleepovers every weekend. You learned everything possible about Yunjin. Like how she had always dreamed of being a performer, how she wanted to make it big in the Kpop industry, how she loves snakes…

Since then, you knew you loved her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

On one seemingly normal spring afternoon, you were abruptly torn away from your sunkissed siesta with the sound of your door being kicked open.

With the growing bond between you and Yunjin, you made the mistake of giving the girl a spare key to your own home. (Oddly enough, your parents werent against the idea. They considered Yunjin like a second daughter.)

You whine out as she grasps at your half asleep form, shaking you aggressively.

“I got accepted into a company, y/n!! I'm gonna be a trainee!”

Eyes shooting open, you try to sit up through the aggressive grip Yunjin had on you.

“No kidding?” You croak out, looking at her with disbelief.

“I'm not!” She cheers, bouncing happily through your bedroom. Trying to match her energy through the grogginess, you slip out of bed, stumbling a bit as you tumble into her arms. Yunjin laughs at your state, wrapping her arms around your waist to keep you steady as she jumps excitedly.

“I’m  going to move back to Korea next month— this is so exciting!!” She squeals out, and your smile falters ever so slightly. Move? To Korea?

Still, you bite back the sickly feeling developing in your stomach as you squeal alongside her.

You were happy for her, and did nothing but support her all throughout her time in Korea. Called her every night after training, sent her pictures of school life without her, even voting for her in that odd survival show she participated in. You did anything and everything you could to be the best friend you could be.

Yunjin always had the stars in her eyes. But in yours? There was only ever her. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The day that everything truly changed is still fresh in your mind.

After spending years chasing after Yunjin, it feels like you have finally caught up to her. She's back in the states after her time in Korea, and she's planning on staying. She looked a little different than before, but it was the same old Jennifer you knew and loved— even when missing a few moles and deeper eyebags.

Upon her arrival back home, it was like no time had passed. Once again attached at the hip, as it should be. You practically made it your job to crawl into her skin at any given moment and to pamper her with all of her favorite things. 

You would treat her to meals, spontaneous shopping sprees, and simple girls nights out. All of the good stuff to make up for lost time. Unfortunately, your attempts to keep your best friend happy came with their own obstacles. you would occasionally find advertisements or clips of idols that would show up during your time together, and for just a brief moment, you would see that usual spark within Yunjin’s eyes falter. It was a stark reminder of what she could have had.

It hurt you to see her get reminded of her time as a trainee. It truly was everything she wanted and more. But it was okay, you were here now, and you weren't planning on letting her go this time.

You’d drop any and everything for Yunjin. You allowed her to vent whenever she needed, to come over whenever she wanted, and to indulge in spontaneous late night meals whenever you two felt like it.

Needless to say, your wallet was crying by the time summer was nearing its end, but you didn’t mind at all. Yunjin was back. She was happy. You were happy. Things were finally returning to normal.

The two of you decide on a college to attend together in Boston, both pursuing a major in business. It's neither of your first choices in majors, but it's a good enough money maker in the long run. 

The pair of you sat in Yunjins bedroom, with you comfortably propped up against her bedframe on the floor whilst the brunette lay comfortably on the mattress. You hugged the  djungelskog plushie you had gifted Yunjin some birthday ago close to your chest as you atared at your phone, with Yunjin crunching away on cheez-its as the entire La La Land soundtrack softly plays from the record player in the corner of the room. 

Its nearly less than a month until move in day at Boston University, and you feel beyond giddy. Actual independence? And spending it with your best friend slash secret crush? Your dreams were coming true. Looking through your college dorms on the website, the pair of you converse about the future.

“What kind of theme do you think we should go for our dorm?” you ask, leaning your head against the bed to look up at Yunjin, who was still crunching away contentedly at her snacks.

“I'm not sure… But I do know I want to cover my wall with all of my posters…”

“Ooh! Yeah!! I can add fake flowers on the walls…”

“ Of course, we need a bit of girlish charm— oh! we need to make room for a record player and my guitar.”

“Google maps says there's a 7-eleven near the campus…” you murmur, your short attention prompting you to immediately shift to another topic.

“ Should we go got late night snack runs?”

“Duh.”

“Or maybe if we get tired of the dorm food, we can get equally as crappy convenience store food for instead–”

Suddenly, the music from Yunjin’s phone gets cut off, being replaced with her ringtone (it was Come Inside Of My Heart by IV of Spades ) as she huffs.

“ sorry, hold that thought..” She murmurs, answering the call.

You didn't know any Korean, the only bits you’re familiar with are the phrases Yunjin taught you to talk with her parents (which you also butchered) so you naturally begin to tune out whatever she begins to say on her end. Despite this though, you easily pick up on the shift in tone as she speaks. Professionalism, skepticism, to Shock. That was all you could read off of Yunjin as you looked up from your phone, curiously glancing at her. Her eyes were boggling out of her skull, and she placed a hand over her mouth before ending the call.

The brunette remains frozen in place, hand still over her mouth as a silence passes over the room.

“So….?” You ask, crawling up onto the bed to sit next to her.

Yunjin’s voice is shaky, yet laced with a twinge of excitement and disbelief as she speaks, “I just got a call from Hybe. I… I have the chance to debut.”

You don’t know what came over you at that moment. It felt like the world came collapsing down on you. Right now, you should be happy. Jumping for joy, focusing all on Yunjin and her chance for success. She's been given a real chance to make her dreams come true, even after it seemed impossible, even after all the years of rejection and work. This was all she wanted in life and more— you should be happy? Right?

But you’ve always been a selfish person. Or maybe you convinced yourself you were ever since that day. You don’t know. Maybe in that moment, you realized you could lose everything you’ve been waiting for. You’d lose the girl you've chased after for so many years now. If you didn't do something now, you wouldn’t have the chance to do it ever again. You were a greedy person, so you confess.

“Yunjin, I love you. I always have.”

The words feel like a slap to the face, and it shows. It shows in the way her eyes widen and smile falls. This was a bad idea, but you can't back out now. Your eyes begin to water as your voice cracks.

“I… I don’t want you to go— to leave me…” you choke out, “What about uni? Our dorm? What am I going to do without you?”

You knew you were being manipulative, you knew you were being selfish. But you didn’t care. You wanted her to know how you truly felt. You didn’t want her to leave you, not again. Your heart couldn’t handle it.

Through tears threatening to spill out, you can see her cheeks slowly dust a faint shade of pink as she processes your words. She seems… hesitant. Over what? You weren’t too sure. You weren’t too sure if you even wanted to know. 

The silence that washes over the two of you is beyond suffocating. You feel like you’re drowning, digging your nails into your palms as you look away. If you looked at her, you were scared you’d break, and the tears would begin to flow. After a few moments that feel like hours, she finally responds.

“I believe you have feelings for me…” she begins, voice soft yet strained. For some reason, those words leave a bad feeling in your gut. You muster up enough courage to meet her gaze. She looked just as hurt and conflicted as you felt. Yunjins grip on her phone tightens as she takes a deep breath, continuing, “...but I can’t give this up, y/n. It's my dream.”

That was the moment you knew you truly lost her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

In another life, you and Yunjin would be at Boston University together, pursuing that business degree that neither of you want.

It's a dream that used to occasionally return to you when Yunjin was overseas. Every now and then, you’d wake up in a cold sweat, and you’d check Yunjins location. She’d still be in Seoul. It was okay though, because you knew she’d always come back. She always came back. Now it haunts you every other night.

The dream is always so incredibly vivid and real. You would wake up to Yunjins many alarms that she somehow manages to sleep through every single time, and you’d peel your eyes opened to your shared dorm room. Though you didn’t have much time to admire the beauty of it all through the sound of an alarm continuously dragging you out of your slumber. She’s always been a heavy sleeper. you’d have to jump on Yunjins sleeping form to even stir her into some form of consciousness.

Yunjin groaned in protest, but you knew her. She wasn’t truly bothered, not when it came to you. Instead of entertaining your futile attempts to wake her up, she would wrap her arm around your waist, dragging you down with her as you squeal out.

She's warm. Her brown bobbed hair has grown out by now, black roots peeking through the top of her head as you join the mess that is her bed (and hair.) She smells like vanilla and wood, and you can't help but laugh into her embrace. You’ll be late to the dining hall for breakfast, but it doesn't really matter. There was a 7-eleven nearby that could provide breakfast while the two of you rushed to your classes– in which you had meticulously planned to have almost every single class together.

After a long day of school, you would return back to your dorm both collapsing on your respective beds as exhaustion settles in. It was decorated just the way you two liked it. With both boy and girl band posters littering the walls alongside some fake vines, flowers, and a multitude of polaroids you two have accumulated over the years. 

Once the two of you move out of the dorms and graduate, you’d find an apartment to share. Dual income and no children, that was the way to live. Alongside a cat and a dog, of course. You’d have a black cat named Binx, and a golden retriever named Dug, something you two had discussed many times before. 

It’s beyond perfect. You lay on the couch, comfortably in Yunjins arms as a blanket is lazily draped over your forms. Binx is settled upon your lap as Dug takes up the space on the rug. The tv is playing Coraline— a staple movie for you two, and you'd smile. Yunjin would lovingly return the grin, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

And then you’d wake up, the grim reality of your situation compared to your dream sending tears flowing down your cheeks. You’re constantly reminded how Yunjin wasn't yours. Not in this lifetime. And it hurt more than anything else.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You’ve always been there for Yunjin, both before and after she became famous.

In High school, you of course supported her throughout your brief time in the drama club. But you also provided a shoulder to cry on, a free source of math homework answers, a friend.

When she moved back to Korea to become a trainee, you helped her through the rough patches. Hours of dance training, rigorous workouts, and unhealthy dieting took a toll on her. But you were always there through the phone, no matter the time. 

Even after her debut, you remained loyally by her side. Yunjin grew busier and more distant over the years, and it was understandable. You were busy too. With college, internships, and general “adulting,” it was a challenge to remain in contact. Still, when you two did find time to talk, Yunjin would tell you stories of her members, of the rumors and scandals that would plague the group. It hurt to see her hurting, especially knowing you couldn't be there for her like before. But you were glad to see her achieving all she wanted and more.

You hop into one of Yunjins late night livestreams (even if it was the morning for you.) It wasn’t like you couldn’t just call her whenever you wanted, but it was just another one of the little things you would do to continuously support your friend. Yunjin never made a scene whenever you popped in, but always made sure to look for your comments and read them out every single time.

“Sing something from Phantom or you’re lame?” She reads out, a soft laugh slipping past her lips as she does so.

The idol gives the camera a knowing look, one that only could be read by you, and you smile as she clears her throat. Phantom of the Opera is what brought you two together, after all. She spends a few minutes doing short vocal exercises to warm up her voice, and the sight is oddly nostalgic. Yunjin then sits up straight as she begins to sing, and you feel your heart twinge slightly at her song choice.

“Think of me,

Think of me fondly,

When we've said goodbye.

Remember me,

Once in a while,

Please promise me you'll try.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Now here you were, in a completely foreign country, placed in more than accommodating seats within the VIP section of this unfamiliar venue you’ve never even heard of before. There were hordes of men around you, all cheering in a deep voiced mass for the girls on stage. You stuck out like a sore thumb. Yet, there was Yunjin. You watch her, shining brightly on stage whilst donning a fresh head of bright orange hair. It suited her. Her fiery passion, her fierce determination that got her here in the first place, her glowing smile. It was all only a physical expression of who she was on the inside.

Yunjin had insisted on getting you these tickets– even going out of her way to even cover part of your plane ticket here despite you having a very stable and office job now. You tried to tell her you were happy enough to see her from the nosebleed seats in the back, especially since it was all you could afford on such short notice. But she refused, pulling some strings to give you the best seats possible. She wanted you here. More than anyone else.

You’ve seen Yunjin perform before. How could you not? You could vividly recall the way she would sing out and capture the entire crowd’s attention from the stage of your high school’s auditorium. How she would perform with such confidence and precision, how she performed like she was made for this. 

Things have changed a lot since then. There was no business college in your future together anymore. No planned dorms together. No more late night talks. No 7-eleven snack runs. Yet oddly enough, despite the changes, this was seemingly no different than before. Every person in the crowd was entranced, immediately allured by her natural charm and her passionate voice. You included. Just like those many years before, she still managed to have you bewitched on the sidelines while she chases after the spotlight.

So you cheer. Joining the roaring crowd as you call out Yunjins name, a bright smile playing on your lips as you do so. You’ve always been her biggest fan, after all. You swear you saw her make eye contact with you, seemingly providing her an energy boost as she sings out to the audience. She was beautiful, and she knew it.

Once the show is over, you find your way to the backstage area. You tried your best to explain to the security how you were friends with one of the members, and how she invited you back there. Unfortunately, your Korean was less than conversational, and you pretty much looked like an embarrassingly desperate and obsessive fan until Chaewon came and saved the day.

“y/n-nnie! Come, Come!! I saw you in the crowd!!” She chirps out sweetly, abruptly pushing past the guard and dragging you backstage, leaving the security both confused and a bit exhausted. This might not have been the first time the girls have tried to meet with their friends after performances.

There were people everywhere. Stage hands, stylists, makeup artists, and more, all rushing around you two and occasionally praising Chaewon. You felt beyond out of place, and probably looked the part too. Despite having Yunjin as a friend, you’ve never once felt like you were friends with a celebrity. She was simply your Jennifer, and that was more than enough. Being here though, you could truly see the extent of the impact she had on people. How so many people respected her and admired her.

Lost within your thoughts and observations of the crowd, you barely notice when Chaewon lets go of your arm, leaving you to fall victim to a bright orange mass stampeding your way. Without warning, you’re tackled into a hug by none other than Yunjin herself. You swear you see stars as the air gets forced out of your lungs.

“y/n!! You made it!!” She beams, giving you a firm squeeze pulling away to fully take in the sight of you. Her arms are still firmly wrapped around your form as her eyes almost sparkled with pure affection for you. Your cheeks warm at the contact, and you can't help but shyly avoid her gaze. Even after all of this time, she still has the same effect on you. After letting out a soft breath, she quietly murmurs, “I was singing for you, y’know.”

And your heart aches. Aches for what you two could have had. Aches for feelings she chooses not to reciprocate. You want to be angry with her. Despise her for leaving you behind and living this luxurious celebrity life. 

Yet your heart also swells. Swells with pure affection for the girl you love. The way she holds you, how she insists on having you attend, how sweetly she says your name. All of it makes you crumble all too easily. She truly cares for you, and never let the fame change that. You truly were lucky to have her.

“Really, now? You sure you weren't singing for the sea of men you forced me to sit with?” You laugh out, gently shoving her, “I swear I heard a guy say he ditched a family dinner to be there.”

Yunjin loudly laughs at your comment as she shakes her head, “How about you come over to our dorms to celebrate tonight, yeah? We’ll even let you pick a movie – or I’ll make them watch whatever you choose… Please?”

You were a bit hesitant. These were Yunjin’s friends. You didn’t want to intrude, especially after a crazy night like this. Yet, despite your reluctance, Yunjin stares down at you with those damn puppy eyes, and somehow manages to get Eunchae and Chaewon to join in…

“... Okay, fine,” you groan out, feigning disappointment as you see Yunjins eyes light up. “but we’re watching Coraline.”

The girls all cheer and pull you into a tight hug, with Yunjin holding onto you just a bit tighter than the others.

Huh Yunjin loves you. But not in the way you want. Yunjin wants you to be loved. 

And loved you are, even if it means she can't be yours.

[longlivefeedback]

Hey I want a bit of help about how to comment specifically on smut fics... I always find it So, so difficult to comment on them even if I normally have such an easy time commenting on other types of fic... Idk what to say so they just end up sitting upon on my tabs on my phone forever....

Not sure how long this ask has been sitting in my inbox, but...here's something to start you off perhaps, Nonny?

That was hot 🥵🌶️🔥

The way you wrote them was so amazing! X is so good at ABC! 🫣😍

I enjoyed reading this so much!

The way X takes care of Y made me melt

The way you kept up the excitement/anticipation had me hooked and the payoff was spectacular!

This fic had me asldkfhjwldkvnlkc-ing I love it so much

👏👌🙌🫶

Or use the ACD method that has just come to my attention 😅😂

However, an interesting thing I just noticed is that if you blank out the word "smut" from your ask, the example comments I listed could be used in any other kind of fic. So...since you're already comfortable with commenting, I think the root of your problem is that it is your perception and mentality around smut fic specifically.

For some reason, you may view smut fic differently from other types of fic and put it in a different category in your mind. I'm not going to tell you that you have to get over yourself or view smut fic differently (and to some extent, I suspect that smut fic writers understand and perhaps even expect the social/personal shyness of their readers), but if you really have it in your heart to comment, I would say try leaving a short, generic comment first, and once you feel like smut fics are a safe space, then have at it :)

Don't worry about comparing yourself to how you comment on other types of fic. Just accept that commenting on smut fics is more difficult for you, and adjust your expectations for yourself. You leaving even a single emoji is probably more than 95% of a fic's readers, so don't beat yourself up about not being able to leave a coherent comment. I love your attitude about wanting to comment on smut fics! Thank you for reading and (trying to) comment!

[autistichalsin]

I know I express dissatisfaction a lot about how hard it is to get Halsin upset at the player- how no amount of mistreatment from a romanced player will make him break up with them, how he NEVER asserts a boundary, how he tolerates even the most cruel comments. The rare times he expresses hurt, it still changes nothing about his interactions with the player and rarely costs more than one approval.

The reason I express this most of all with the new datamined dialogue is for two reasons: one, that one is so beyond the pale that it needs to be treated as evil, and should include Halsin saying so. But also, if Halsin won't even call it quits with a romanced player after THIS, it raises some really worrying implications.

Halsin should be allowed to have ONE situation where he'll go "no more" to the player's cruelty because... honestly? The pattern the writers established here actually makes me worried for Halsin.

Halsin rarely shows offense or anger at lines no matter how mean they are (even the player shooting down his romantic overture by comparing him to a deep rothe gets a hurt response but no loss of approval or scolding or anything). He stays with the player romantically even after they threaten to sell him back into sexual slavery in the new dialogue- he doesn't even lose a single approval point! And while he gets annoyed if the player toys with his heart by nearly breaking up with him multiple times and then changing their mind, even after the fourth time the player does this, when he says "sometimes it is difficult to love you," the implication there is clear- he still DOES love you. Even when he is deeply hurt by what you're doing, so much so that he straight up asks you, "does it please you to see me crestfallen?" and loses approval, he STILL doesn't break up with you or assert himself- he doesn't say next time is the last time, he doesn't call the player an asshole, nothing. He just takes it even when he gets hurt and upset again and again. In short: Halsin puts up with a LOT of manipulative, borderline abusive behavior from the player without more than an occasional ding in approval.

Then you add in Halsin's backstory of sexual slavery, him losing all of his family, being so socially isolated from his leadership role that he began to MISS being a sex slave, his sadness but quiet acceptance at the fact that everyone thinks his feelings can't be hurt due to his size, his survivor guilt over the shadow curse, and the fact that the player, even if they choose to mistreat him, is still the one who broke the curse with him, leaving him feeling permanently feeling indebted to them.

In other words: what the game is showing us ISN'T a wise and stoic, sage old elf who is just that unshakeable after all he's seen. They are showing us a man with so much unprocessed trauma and such a complete lack of personal boundaries that he is showing several warning signs he could easily end up the victim of domestic violence by a partner- whether that's evil!Tav or some other potential partner he might find after canon- without ever realizing it.

The other romanceable characters will dump you if you mistreat them or violate the terms of the relationship (I.E. sleeping with someone else when they made it clear they weren't poly). They all, even Astarion, have more willingness to stand up for themselves than Halsin does.

Halsin isn't a pushover, or at least, I don't think we're supposed to read him as one. He will fight whatever enemies he needs to. But when it comes to those close to him- and note that he calls the player his friend in ALL circumstances- he just refuses. The most is a ding of approval at times or a very quiet, quick comment that basically amounts to "that wasn't cool :( " before he moves on.

I know it wasn't what the writers intended, but it's what comes across in the text all the same.

(This is also why, on top of headcanoning Halsin as autistic, I am also firmly convinced he was bullied as a child- he just acts far too much like a grown-up victim of bullying)

[phonydiaries]

Beautiful Dreamer - P x Reader

Notes: This is a bit of a shorter fic from me and it's pure unadulterated fluff and sap and nobody gets stabbed! Which is really stretching myself as a writer, to be honest. You guys know I love nothing more than a good life-threatening injury. Anyways, no warnings for this one! Enjoy the cozy vibes <3 

---

It seemed somewhat magical in the beginning. 

Pino came running to you once, at the very break of dawn when you had just barely opened your eyes; too-bright sunlight stinging them as the puppet shook you from sleep. It was difficult for you to grasp what he meant, at first, to wrap your head around what he was trying to describe. His speechless manner of communication and your general grogginess certainly didn’t help matters. But through a series of signs and expressions from Pinocchio, you came to understand. In his slow but sure gaining of humanity the boy had begun to dream at night. 

You were vaguely aware that he did not dream before, and didn’t exactly sleep in the way humans did (although he did something similar enough that you personally couldn’t tell the difference). 

“Is it… pleasant?” You asked him, genuinely quite curious as to what a strange thing dreams must seem to someone who had never known them. It had the potential to be wondrous and peaceful, but at the same overwhelming and utterly confusing. P seemed to take your question into careful consideration, really mulling it over. His eyes shone bright as he finally nodded decisively. 

For all his excitement over this newfound ability, Pinocchio was frankly dreadful in his attempts at describing his dreams to you. You tried earnestly to follow along, but his gestures and expressions would eventually become too complicated and frenetic for you to follow and so you found yourself utterly lost in his recollections. It was after one such frustrating night that you gifted him a pocket journal to write in. This was much preferred for both of you, and you came to enjoy the routine of him eagerly handing off his scribblings for you to interpret in the morning. You would sit elbow to elbow at the table, sipping morning tea and reading his writing aloud, while he listened and nodded along captivated, his chin resting over his hands on the table. 

His writing was uncharacteristically scratchy, with words often misspelled or crossed out implying that he was simply transcribing for speed and not coherence. Now and then there would be an addition of a crude drawing, sometimes the vague outline of a rabbit or a rushed impression of beaming stars. 

One day, when it was particularly gloomy, you and Pino wandered to the library. Silence between the two of you was not uncommon, nor was it in any way awkward or uncomfortable. With the heavy fall of rain against the roof on this day, you found the quiet between the shelves especially peaceful. By the orange glow of a lantern, you turned the pages of a dream-interpretation guide. It was a small and somewhat battered thing and had been picked up eagerly by Pinocchio of course, who sat on the floor with crossed legs, chin resting in the heels of his hands as he listened to you, enthralled. In hushed tones, you ran down bulleted lists of common dreams and all the cryptic mysteries they may contain. 

“Here, how about this one, have you ever dreamed that your teeth were falling out?” You asked, pointing to a passage in the book. P slapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head vigorously, looking suddenly very concerned with keeping said teeth firmly in his mouth. You couldn’t help chucking as you turned the page. 

The day wore on, and the oil in your lantern burned down to nothing, the dim light flickering across an eerie illustration. You’d been leafing through an art book of the romantic era painters and left off on a Fuseli painting of a tormented woman being peered upon unknowingly by some manner of devil. You found the page quite off putting honestly, and closed the book. 

“I figure that’s enough of that. What do you say, Pino-oh.” 

As you addressed your puppet companion in the dark, you came to see that he sat on the floor still, slumped against the foot of your chair. His cheek was sunk into his left shoulder, eyes shut, breathing soft and shallow. The serenity of the scene warmed your heart some, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Pino…” you whispered, and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to wake him. But he didn’t stir, seemingly in a deep sleep. You were sorry for the uncomfortable condition he seemed to be posed in, but you didn’t want to disturb the poor puppet. You gathered your things and left quietly, shuffling off to your quarters. 

It was around midnight that the puppet woke with a panicked gasp. He was surprised to find his legion arm held up defensively, as if in anticipation of an invisible attack. His eyes searched his surroundings frantically, and only when he recognized the library did he hesitantly lower his arm. In the darkness he felt quite uneasy and disoriented. He tried to recall your soothing hushed voice. It had put him into quite a state it seemed before he eventually drifted off. It was in stark contrast to the current thrumming of his mechanical heart and the uncomfortable quickness of his breaths. He had dreamed something wholly unpleasant, and with some sadness realized this new facet of humanity came with drawbacks. He did not care much for these dreams at all.

Pinocchio made his way down the corridor to your quarters, his steps echoing eerily. He threw pointed glances over his shoulder frequently, half expecting some monstrous creature to appear suddenly in the halls of Hotel Krat. The simple casting of shadows had never before made him so on-edge. When he reached your room, he opened the door slowly and peered inside. You lay there in the dark beneath silk sheets, curled in on yourself and sleeping soundly. With great care not to startle you, he knelt by your bedside and nudged you in the back. Your head flinched momentarily, but you otherwise remained still. With some urgency he took your shoulder and shook until you stirred. Rubbing your eyes wearily, you rolled over to face him. 

“Pino, it’s ah…it’s late isn’t it? Can’t it wait til morning..?” You grumbled. He shook his head almost apologetically and squeezed your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you were able to make out unfamiliar anxious creases in his expression. You willed yourself into a greater awareness and sat up promptly. “What is it, what’s wrong?” You asked, your tone softening significantly. P gestured in the direction of the library and rummaged around in his pocket for a moment. He retrieved the pocket journal you’d given him and pointed several times at the most recent entry. You squinted. On the left page he had simply blacked out the entire thing with a pen, and on the right page the phrase “strung up” was written several frantic times with increasing disregard for legibility. 

When you looked up at him to clarify, he raised his hands limp above his head and dropped his chin to his chest. The image was admittedly shuddersome and he cast a long and spindly shadow across the wall. 

“I see.” You said, closing the journal. “You had a nightmare, hm? All strung up like an ordinary puppet.” Your heart fell for the poor boy. It must’ve been terribly frightening for him. 

Pinocchio nodded solemnly, not meeting your eyes. He stared off blankly and rubbed his wrists, as if easing a phantom feeling of restraints. You took note of this and hummed softly. 

“Here, may I see?” You asked, and pulled his arm towards you. You made a show of inspecting it and tapping your chin thoughtfully. Holding his arm with one hand, you stuck up two fingers like a pair of scissors and pretended to snip the invisible puppet string. You repeated this mimic on his other arm and then took his hands in yours, placing a kiss on the back of each. 

“All gone.” 

Pinocchio looked at you with a kind of boyish wonder. He raised one fist to the crown of his head with a smile, making a  pshhh sound and opening his hand, giving the impression of a miniature explosion.

“Think you’ll be alright for the rest of the night?”

At this he shifted a little. His fingers busied themselves, twisting in the bedsheets. He was obviously still shaken up somewhat. You could understand that, although it was a bit of a surprise to learn that someone so nearly indestructible could be afraid of the dark. 

“Alright,” you sighed, lifting the sheets. “Get in here.” 

P’s chin jutted forward and his brow furrowed at your offer. You just gestured to the space beside you with your head. “Go on, before I change my mind.” You teased. At this, Pinocchio clambered up into your bed and nuzzled his face into the pillow. As he got settled. You pulled the sheet over his shoulders and snaked your arm up around him from behind. Your nose pressed against the nape of his neck and you breathed in the smell of him, like fresh rain. 

“Have no fear, my puppet.” You said sleepily against his skin. “Your trusty human won’t let anything steal you away from me in the night.” You heard him snicker at this, but you knew without a doubt he felt safer here with you and vice versa. It was sweet, really. 

By the time the sun rose you were both still sound asleep, all tangled in each other’s limbs, looking like lovers in the warm morning light. The day could wait a little longer. 

[nostalgebraist]

the light, and the glass

So there's this particular quality I have, as a fiction writer, and I have very little sense of how common or rare it is.

The quality is closely related to that famous Michaelangelo quip, about his sculptures being "already complete within the marble block":

The sculpture is already complete within the marble block, before I start my work. It is already there, I just have to chisel away the superfluous material.

This is how I feel, too, about my works of fiction. They feel like "real things" that "already exist," in some important sense, before I write them down -- or, indeed, before I even fully know what they contain.

So, for instance, if I haven't yet thought of an ending for a story I'm playing with in my mind, I nonetheless have a vivid sense that this particular story has an ending, and that this ending already is whatever it happens to be. It's only that I haven't managed to "see" it yet.

To clarify the point, consider the contrast between this thing, and two relatively familiar ways of thinking about how fiction gets made:

Conscious, goal-directed craft/artifice. Intending to write a Satisfying Plot in which each character has an Arc, the Story Beats follow logically from one another and are arranged with what is called Good Pacing, the proverbial Cat is Saved, etc., and "solving for" these desiderata in a conscious manner. Or, intending to create something much more outré and unsettling than all that -- but having some specific set of (outre, unsettling) intentions in mind, at the outset, and concocting/arranging the elements of your work in a conscious way guided by these intentions.

Free-wheeling, self-expressive "creativity." Just do whatever, man! Follow your bliss. The canvas is blank and anything is possible. Whatever you feel like putting into that empty space, go ahead and put it there. (The key thing being that, after "putting something there," you'll look and recognize something with origins in you, and your own whims and feelings at a particular moment.)

For me, though, the process of writing, and even of "ideating" (plotting, etc.), feels like a kind of transcription or channeling, as opposed to either of the above.

When I say "channeling," here, I don't mean that I have some actual, mystical belief in a supernatural object revealing itself through me. Not in the woo-woo sense anyway; whatever is really going on here, I am sure it "merely" involves the mechanics of the human mind, as implemented in the physical human brain and body.

But I do mean that it feels a lot like that. Like the story -- and not just the story part of the stories, but the whole thing, the "art object" -- has some real prior existence outside of me, first.

Like I am merely doing my best to "get it right," to be a perfect transmitter for the radio signal. To "do justice" to the "real thing," in the secondary act of writing words onto a page.

To be a courier who transports a valuable object from some originary otherworld into a place which happens to be called "existence" -- and to ensure, as much as possible, that it suffers no disfiguring scrapes during the journey.

----

I should say, though, that there's a lot of the "#1" above in my process too, the conscious-artifice thing.

Except... when I do that kind of thing, the intentions all come from the "real object," and my goal is to fill in whatever I can't see of that object so that everything I can see is preserved.

So: I will come to know, surely and indefeasibly, that the story must have some particular feature. (An event, a little moment, a character feeling a certain way at a certain time, even a specific turn of phrase.) Better to say: I know the story does have this feature. I see it in the marble.

But I can't see everything that's there, already, in the marble. And sometimes these glimpses-from-the-beyond are strange, inconvenient, difficult to "fit" into the current story (or perhaps into any story) in a natural-seeming manner.

And that's my task, when I'm doing the conscious-artifice thing: to take this collection of axiomatically-present glimpses, and build a structure around them into which they can "fit," naturally and even logically, just as if they were ordinary story-building-blocks like their neighbors, being placed here and there for ordinary story-reasons.

----

This has various implications. For one, it determines which kinds of writerly anxieties I suffer from, and which types leave me alone.

Like, I have virtually no self-doubt about my "ideas." About the overall, large-scale goodness-or-badness of the thing I'm creating. At least, not when considered "in principle," in an idealized sense that abstracts away from my actual capabilities as a guy who puts words on pages.

"Was this story, as a whole, a good idea?" is a question I find difficult to ask myself. Even when applied to smaller units, like specific plot points, this kind of question simply goes nowhere when I attempt to think about it. Insofar as my mind can cough up any answer, that answer looks like:

Yes

(after a moment, with mounting bewilderment) Yes, obviously -- how strange even to ask!

(after another moment, and as an afterthought) ...but if it weren't any good, is that really my business? It's not like I came up with it. I was asked to keep it safe and bring it into reality, and I take that duty seriously, but once it has reached its destination I wipe my hands of the matter. Don't shoot the messenger!

It's not, just, that I feel like the "real thing" "already exists." I also feel, always, that the real thing is... really good.

I deeply, thoroughly trust the Muse / Higher Power responsible for originally "making" this stuff. (To speak in relatively woo-woo terms, for ease and clarity.)

The Muse / Higher Power is a seriously skilled artist, much more so than little-old-me; if She makes any errors at all, they are not really mistakes, but "are volitional and are the portals of discovery."

And what's more, there is a sacred, unearthly gleam to the artifacts She makes, perhaps having something to do with that Fairyland, that place-other-than-"existence," in which they are originally made.

It feels like an honor to be designated as a courier for these enchanted things. Perhaps not a deserved honor -- on which more below -- but it's never the nature and value of the transported goods that I doubt.

(There is a definite sense of ritual to the thing that I do, here; a sense of connecting with some other place, definitively apart from our mundane here-and-now, and likewise more important/primary/etc. than the latter. Hence, perhaps, my tendency to not-write for long stretches, and then write in long sustained bursts for many hours at a time, which need a good deal of preliminary building-up-steam before they fully get going; it takes time to pierce, and then fully cross, the veil between worlds. And the various imprints of this stuff on the works themselves are not hard to see, once you're looking for them; they are of course especially transparent in TNC.)

All that being said, I do suffer persistently from a different anxiety.

When Michaelangelo said the thing about the sculpture "already complete within the marble block," he said it as... Michaelangelo.

As a famous, incontrovertibly masterful craftsman. Not a guy likely to suffer from doubts about his ability to put the chisel to the marble block, and reveal precisely that shape which was already there, inside.

But I'm not Michaelangelo. I'm not even sure I'm a good craftsman, much less a great one.

Certainly I've never conceived of myself in this way, even aspirationally. (Well, maybe I did in childhood and adolescence, but that was a very different thing from what I'm talking about now.)

I don't do what a person would do, if they wanted to be a Writer, and strove to be the best one they could. I don't, for the most part, practice my craft. I write because there's a Real Thing that only I can see, and it's not going to make into Existence any other way.

And since I don't write by habit or as practice -- since I only write at times when a Real Thing is in need of some incarnating-work, and I'm the only one around to do it -- I'm not exactly an ideal candidate for the job.

I am like a man who never especially wanted to be a sculptor, never practiced the trade, and was never more-than-ordinarily good with his hands, even... who is then, suddenly, struck with a very literal version of the experience Michaelangelo described.

Who, suddenly and inexplicably, begins to actually see a sculptural masterpiece lurking inside, whenever he looks at a faceless marble block.

What is our protagonist to do? Naturally, he will find a chisel, and begin chipping away. He will feel that these things need to be freed from their prisons, released and revealed to all the world, so that all the world can delight in them as he already does.

But he will be very aware of the unfamiliar way the chisel sits in his hand; of the way that hand trembles, and fails to meet the mark, and sometimes shaves off precious bits of what was really and originally a beautifully formed hand -- so that the hand, in the realized artwork, forever bears some oddity of shape which was not a part of what he saw inside the block, but only a consequence of his own shameful incompetence.

He will feel that his works, such as they are, are an odd mixture of amateurish craft and direct, divine inspiration. Insofar as he is Great, it will be because he has had Greatness thrust upon him, from without. He will feel, sometimes, that his successes have been obtained through a kind of cheating, not won fair-and-square.

And he will feel, always, a particular kind of (justified) impostor syndrome: an awareness that what he is doing, when he sits down before the marble block with the chisel in hand, is a very different sort of thing than what is usually called "sculpting," and what is being practiced by careful, hard-working aspirants just down the road, at the local workshop. The students there call themselves "sculptors," and our protagonist supposes he must call himself a "sculptor" too -- but he knows that behind this coincidence of language, a vast and strange chasm is hidden.

(I worry that this metaphor sounds flattering to me -- I am divinely inspired, they are merely toiling away and following the rules -- when I don't mean it that way at all.

In particular, note that there is nothing in our story to rule out some of the "real" sculptors down the road from also being visionaries who see the finished work in the block. Indeed, I got the metaphor from Michaelangelo, who was precisely this way.

I am only saying that all the conceivable configurations of craft/inspiration are in fact possible: just as it is possible to be skilled but uninspired, it's possible for inspiration to strike someone who lacks the capacity to fully realize its content. And that is how I feel, about my own attempts to create.)

----

When I was getting near the end of Almost Nowhere, and struggling with this kind of feeling, Esther would often reassure me by saying: "you are the light, and you are the glass it shines through."

In other words: you are a transmitter, and you are the source of the transmitted signal. Remember that in actual fact, the "real thing in the marble" came from your own little brain, just as much as the rest of it did. In actual fact, if there is a Muse and a Higher Power, it is really just an additional part of the same creature that holds the chisel, and worries over its trembling hand.

I did, indeed, find this very reassuring. And that's a funny thought, in a way! I imagine that for some people -- and indeed for me, in many other endeavours -- the same sentiment could easily have the opposite effect.

"It's all on you. It's all your responsibility. If any of it is bad, there's no one else to blame. If there is any 'Higher Power' at all, it is only the one inside you at all times, and not able to save you through unexpected intervention, from some true outside."

But I already believed, thoroughly, in the magical potency of the goods I was charged with transporting. If I was (somehow!) their maker, too, then (somehow!) the root of that glimpsed, alien magic was in me.

And so, perhaps, I could trust myself to ferry them into Existence without ruining, without even much dimming, the fairy-gleam from elsewhere that made them what they were.

[nitewrighter]

When writers say the riddler is too silly for modern Batman stories, I wonder how much of that is code for “I can’t write good riddles”. I mean, even btas only had a few episodes with Eddie because Dini admitted they had a hard time coming up with them.

I suppose it brings up a problem with writing a character who’s supposed to be smarter than you.

It’s easy to have joker blow up a bunch of buildings.

You want to show a villain is tough, have them smack the heroes around a little.

You want to show a character is a genius, just have the build robots or time machines or whatever.

But very few can hit that intellectual sweet spot between “overly complex word puzzles so difficult Bruce has to pull the answers out of his butt” and “dopey puns that wouldn’t make popsicle stick standards”

I mean obviously the puns and silly little puzzles are a vital part of the Riddler, but you know, even if you can't write that, there are aspects of the Riddler that you can focus on that still feel true to the core of the character. I think the pathological need for attention can be a great focus for his character, and I think the Arkham Games did a fun job with that even if the majority of the 'riddles' were just in-game puzzles and him taunting you. There's also something to be said about like... certain facets of the Rogues basically getting offloaded onto the Joker because DC feels the need to jam Joker into everything to make it sell. Like, you have variations on Harvey's Two-Face origin story getting offloaded onto the Joker because of the Joker's (might not even be real because one of the Joker's whole THINGS is that he's an unreliable narrator) "Red Hood" origin story in The Killing Joke. So like, Bruce and Harvey are childhood friends, but then DC will bring in the Joker and kind of co-opt (one of) Harvey's origin stories to say, "Batman was, while unintentionally, intimately involved with the creation of the Joker." But like... the whole thing about the Joker is that we, as the audience, aren't ever really supposed to know why the Joker's Like That. That's the whole point of him having multiple "You wanna know how I got these scars?" stories in Nolan's The Dark Knight.

But like... take the Joker's obsession with being Batman's Ultimate Nemesis in The Lego Batman, for example--you actually have a lot of Batman's relationship with the Riddler in that particular interpretation of the Joker, because for the Riddler, it's all about proving himself as Batman's intellectual superior, and actually a major factor of their chemistry is that this obsession is significantly one-sided on the Riddler's end. And I think the Matt Reeves Batman also handled that "one-sided obsession" aspect of the Riddler really well, as well. Like, for Batman, it's all just mystery to solve and then you finally get to the Riddler and Paul Dano's Riddler is like "Wrow. I knew you'd find me because we're so alike and we're besties! It's allll for youuuu!" and then you have Batman fire back with "We're nothing alike--! Wait, I just remembered I'm also an off-putting loner freak. Uh oh." So like... there are ways to feel true to the Riddler even if you can't go full camp.

The Riddler WANTS Batman to find him. He WANTS Batman to solve his riddles because not only is that the only way he is 'seen' but he believes it also gives him control in how he is seen and who he is seen by--although it really doesn't because Batman has already made his assessment of "This is an egotistical loner freak who is desperate for attention and obsessed with me."

[lampiridaes]

♬ now playing: "white day"

-> returning the love your s/o gave you !

affiliated with @virtualbookstore ★

★ — chars ; an , mafuyu , rui , toya

★ — notes ; MIZU-NIGHTS HAS OFFICIALLY COMEBACK!!!! i just wanted to write two fics (still writing the other) to finally FINALLY get out of this writers block ^_^ VERY VERY HAPPY TO WRITE AGAIN AFTER SO LONG missed it sm ueueue... decided to use chars that i wasn't able to write for during vday event, so it still counts as the white day theme <3 first time writing for mafuyu, so i hope it isn't TOO ooc !!?!?

★ — warnings ; none

★ — requested by ; none

★ — taglist ; @nogenderbee (an and rui !!), @mintchocaur (mafuyu!!), @akitosheart (an and toya!!), @toyaswif3y (toya!!), @asherenjoysart (rui!!)

★ shiraishi an :

"oh? honey, what's this?"

an was surprised, but also very pleased with the sudden gift! she went all out the month prior—boxes of chocolate, a bouquet of your favorite flowers, as well as a sweet little handwritten letter about how much she appreciates you!

whether you bought her a gift or you made it yourself, she appreciates it nonetheless! it was from her beloved s/o after all, why wouldn't she?

expect a lot of kisses from her as a thank you. and maybe another gift or two... knock some sense into her that you're doing this as an act of gratitude for her earlier gifts.

★ asahina mafuyu :

the warmth your actions gave her... they can't be described with simple words. it was a soft and gentle, like a candlelight in a cozy, rainy evening where you simply read a book.

"mm... thank you, [name.]"

don't mind her dry response, she's really happy inside. in fact, if you look closer at her, you might even see a small, yet genuine smile on mafuyu's face!

mafuyu wants to experience new things, so as a way to show her appreciation for whatever you got her, she plants a quick, but loving kiss on the cheek. small steps, but adorable ones.

★ kamishiro rui :

"hmm? you have something for me in return, dearest?"

really, really flattered. rui isn't used to being on the receiving end of gifts, so the fact it's from you makes his heart flutter.

knowing rui, he also went a little overboard when it came to your valentines gift. it'd be a romantic one, with a robot playing a lovely melody in the background as he took you out on a quiet date.

so, regardless of how big and small your gift for him is, it's appreciated and will always be an important memory for him.

★ aoyagi toya :

toya is rather simple when it comes to gift giving. considering how talented he is at claw games, he took you for an arcade date last month and got you one of those big stuffed toys that take forever to get because of how many tickets you need. he even carried it for you going home as well!

... which leads to you wanting to impress him with this date by getting him one too. however, you just went with one of the claw machine plushies rather than a big one.

and it was... so difficult. the claw just would not work! it was definitely jammed, right!? these have to be rigged!

by the end of the day, toya was the one who had to get it since you basically rage-quitted from it. but that just made you feel even more guilty because it was for him, and he had to get it himself...

"don't worry about it, love. i know you were supposed to get it for me, and i really do appreciate the effort you put in for me."

... that was reassuring. toya even gave you a small kiss on the forehead for it. maybe this date wasn't that much of a disaster after all.

[volturiprincess]

You Kill Me (Pt 2.)

Caius Volturi x vamp female reader

Summary: The confrontation after part one. Warnings: Angst, foul language, mentions of sexual harassment, Caius' sinister side peeks (I think thats all?) A/N: FINALLY! Man it took a while but I mean I got writer's block with this one. I really wanted to dive a bit deep with this and I added a couple back and forth POV between reader and Caius (I almost added a Marcus POV but I changed my mind). Thank you to everyone who has been patient with this one-shot, I hope I did not disappoint. But as always...Enjoy💙 Word Count: 6k+ (My longest one so far)

(Here's Part 1)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(This. Was. His. Era. Again Jamie did him justice🥰)

Recap….

We stood in silence, I wanted to say something but I didn't know what exactly. I must have been too deep in thought because when I looked up he was gone…..

Oh gosh. What have I done? Why didn't I just say something to him, anything really could have worked at that moment and maybe I would not of hurted him. I never wanted to hurt him in anyway, he’s my mate for fucks sake. Even if I'm still getting used to the idea of having him as my mate, or just being around vampire civilization again, I would never want to harm him. When I pushed him away the hurt his eyes reflected, hit me.

Why am I being so difficult with him? You would think finding your mate just clicks for one and everything in your life finally makes sense, you get a sense of being even but no I decided to just make this once in lifetime experience so complicated. I have been in communication with Carlisle of course via letters, and when I tell him about me and Caius, I can already picture him shaking his head in disappointment each time he reads my letters. He understands why I'm being like this but he finds it totallyunnecessary for me to act like this toward my own mate, he keeps telling me you only get one in this lifetime. 

I decided to head outside to the gardens, where I usually spend my alone time until I see Marcus there. It seems he was expecting me. 

“Hello Marcus, fancy seeing you here”

“I would say the same thing but we have matters to discuss, dear”

I guess Caius got to him already, even if Marcus never shows any sort of emotions, right now he's giving me the same look Carlisle would give me when I did something absurd. He motions for me to sit with him, which I join him instantly.

“I am already going to assume you know what I'm about to say?”

“I have a hunch of an idea”

I couldn't look at him because the look he's giving me was pure disappointment, I felt like a child being scolded by their parents. I know that feeling all too familiar, I was the ‘wild card' apparently compared to my brother when we were younger, father had a knack to always scold me even when it's something as little as forgetting to put away a cup. Carlisle had it easier compared to me, I was molded to be this lady that society would approve of, I was designed to be the perfect wife according to my father. Mother would have never wanted me to be raised like this, she was the one who encouraged me to read, she was even the one who taught me how until she passed away when me and Carlisle were 5. 

“Let’s start this off simple, how are you feeling?”

That is a very good question, how the fuck do I feel? Sure I feel confused, that's all I have been feeling since I found out about being mated to Caius but I mean I feel disgusted. I feel disgusted with myself, I heard stories over the years that the Volturi were supposedly these power hungry coven who are just ruthless but now I feel like I'm the true villain here. What kind of sick person– err vampire in this case– turns their back on someone who has been nothing but loving and patient with them? Caius, even if he has  been interesting with his tactics of showing affection, has only been patient with me, and how do I return the favor? I push him away and basically stomp on his heart.

“Terrible”

“Elaborate on that”

I really do feel like a kid currently.

“I feel terrible because I broke Caius heart” 

“And how?”

And now I feel like I'm in a therapy session.

“For months I turn away from our mate bond and refuse to give in, he does not deserve that, actually screw that he does not deserve a mate who just shuts him away for no reason”

“Oh but there is a reason to your uncalled behavior”

“Isn't there always a reason for everything?”

“Yes, which is why I'm asking you why are you being like this?”

“I dont know”

Of course I know why, I'm scared to give into the bond, what if I’m not good enough for him. What if I fuck up or something and he decides I'm not worth, that I'm not worthy in being his mate. I know you can't pick who your mate is or anything but he could do so much better than me, a person worthy enough to be his queen. Other than the fear, I'm angry. I've been forced to be here forever and don't even have the chance to see my brother. I miss him, he was all I had left of my family and now I have to be away from him. And my past trauma is always lingering.

“I doubt that”

“Marcus, no disrespect to you, but why are you invested in me and Caius? I know he's your brother and all but…why?”

I saw him look off to the distance, almost like I do on a daily basis when I'm reflecting on thoughts or events throughout the day. But I could see his expression change, instead of the disappointed look he had not that long ago, he looked gloomy which was his usual expression before I started to talk to him. 

“I told you about my…” I saw him take an unnecessary gulp ”late wife…Didyme,right?”

“Yes you did, she sounded like a lovely being, I would of loved to of meet her”

“She was, I mean she is. What i'm trying to say is I don't want to you or Caius to end up like me, I have had my brother in my life for so long and to see him finally find his mate, makes me surprisingly happy, I might not show it but internally I have a bit of peace”

Oh the guilt I have right now is no joke, the way he is speaking makes me worry more about the situation I created with his soul brother. The day he told me about Didyme was when I healed her favorite flower, he only told me a bit about her, her personality, features, how her smile could brighten any room, how with just a touch his worries and sadness would be like if it never existed. He truly loved her and the way he is barely going through life does make me sympathize for him big time. I actually make sure to check up on him at least once a day, from just asking him about the latest book he has read to just asking him to oversee my work in the garden, it's not much but I can see a bit of change in his eyes. 

“But I also do not want to see you suffer, I don't know what you are trying to accomplish with this behavior but you have become an important person to me. I view you as a sister I never had, makes me a bit envious of Carlisle since he has the honor to call you his actual sister.”

“Marcus I don't know what to say, I'll be honest with you but I view you as my brother as well, I see a bit of Carlisle in you”

“We are getting off topic but I appreciate your honesty dear, the point of this conversation is to come to your senses and accept Caius as your mate, I can see your bond with him weaken, you are doing nothing to nurture it, he was kind of trying but not in an effective way, in a way you two are acting like children, now if you will excuse me, I have matters to attend to”

He took off before I could even close my mouth at his revelation. He does make a point, I need to stop this ridiculous behavior I've been having and be willing to accept Caius as a mate. 

Caius POV

Humiliated. Disappointed. Defeated. Embarrassed. Furious. And Shameful. Who does she think she is? Was it perhaps my fault for pushing her and just throwing myself at her with that kiss? What was I thinking in doing such an action on her? I would never act like that or think to do it, I am a gentleman, I might not show it but I have never had no intentions to be this way. I still blame her. She is the one who has made me a whole different being. My brother has told me once you find your mate, everything just clicks, they are your equal side and they supposedly make you a better person. He’s wrong, since the minute I saw her I knew she would be trouble, I knew she would not be the right fit for me. 

How could she push me away like I was not worth anything. I have feelings. Wait? Do I? I never understood the purpose of expressing feelings. We feed on humans, I have no sympathy for them only that they keep my thirst down. But when I saw her, I felt the world stop, my main focus was on her and only her, not only because of her beauty but the aura she gave. I for once felt my unbeaten heart beat, I felt like I was suffocating from her scent, but at the same time I felt at ease. I still do not understand her purpose of being difficult with me, if I didn't spend our longest time together arguing with her I would've gotten answers to my questions.  

Maybe it is my fault as well, I have not been there for her. Marcus advised me to spend time with her to actually get to know her. He also warned me that I should be easy with her, she will never be able to see her family unless they come here. But what do I do instead? I basically seduced her with my charm and thought that would be enough to seal the bond. What an idiot I can be, but at the same time I at least tried to give into the bond, unlike her. She would just turn away from me and act like I was some low life, like a pest in a common sense. Who gave her the right to treat me in such a way? Maybe her brother was the one who influenced her to be this way with me? I knew that vegetarian vampire had it out for me, it only makes sense since he left, he probably knew she was my mate this whole time. 

She's such a child to top it off. Running away from a bond that is grander than any bond to existence, and yet she turns away from it like a coward. Just like her brother, always going on and off from having mortals or not. In the time she has been here, she is still not drinking human blood. I thought by now she would have converted to our diet but it would seem I was wrong. Another thing to add to my list of changes; being wrong. I have always been right and if someone goes against me then they will end up being sorry. She’s changing me more than I care to ever want.

Y/N POV

It's been a month since I last saw him, even before I would at least catch glimpses of him or he would approach me. He’s nowhere, I even asked some of the guards if they have seen him but I was met with disappointment. Not even Aro or Marcus have been any help, well I haven't actually talked to Aro yet, he still creeps me out. My mind has been rehearsing over and over in what I will say to Caius, it's all I can really think of.  And to think it's only a month, it has felt like an eternity, considering I have been around for a while now, it cannot compare to this month alone. I think I am finally losing it, I believe I am going mental now. The way my mind is being filled with endless thoughts and worries is really pushing me into a not so pretty mindset. I want to cry but I know I am unable to, I want to scream but what will that solve? I want to run away but Demetri would just track me down in an instant. I want to drown myself in books to at least distract my mind but I know whatever I read it would only be twisted and I would be thrown back to thinking about him. 

I even stopped  hunting, I haven't had not one ounce of blood since the last day I saw him. Why do I deserve to satisfy my thirst when I hurt my mate? Oh my mate, how much I am longing to be in his arms right now, telling him how sorry I am. To tell him what an idiot I have been this past half year, to tell him my fears of not being worthy of him, to tell him it's me and not him no matter how foolish that sounds. It's the truth there is nothing wrong with him, not even his anger issues bother me, on the contrary I love how he is not afraid to show his intense emotions out. Oh? I said the L word, well it's no issue to me because I think I do love him. How fucked up is that really? It took for him to stop coming up to me to finally realize I do have love for him.

I have been spending this whole month, when I was not looking for Caius, pacing in my room growing more and more mad. Not the emotion mad but like mentally losing it. But I think I am also mad, I mean I am trying to make it up to him but he won't even give me a chance. It's frustrating really. Oh no. Is this how Caius was when he was trying to seal the bond but I just turned away from him? Now I am really feeling the pain and guilt, this torment is just so painful for anyone to face. I made him go through this, I really am a monster.

I fell to my knees in defeat as I buried my face into my hands, the venom started to fill my eyes. All my walls started to crash down on me and I could feel myself almost physically hyperventilate as I was trying to remember to calm myself. I felt my old human self creep up. In my human years I would have my breakdowns after each lecture my father would give me. His talks about me being the ideal respectful woman would get to me too much.

His preaching never got easier, he even would force me to attend his social gatherings with other men so I could be viewed as an available choice as a wife. When my dad was not having an eye on me, those men would stare at me shamelessly, it made me feel gross and caused me to have a desire to be alone. Another reason why I avoided any type of civilization when me and Carlisle went our separate ways. 

Maybe that’s another reason why I was also being harsh toward Caius, I feared he was going to be like those men. It didn't  help his case to be proven wrong when he kissed me or the way he seduced me endless times. I need to talk to him. 

Caius POV

I feel foolish avoiding my own problems. I tend to get to the bottom of things but in this case it's different. How can I solve this? Wouldn’t it make sense for her to come up to me and apologize for her childish acts? The way she wouldn't even look me in the eye when I talked to her? Or how she would respond to me with a snarky remark? Gosh I think I love her attitude, even if she did hurt my feelings by rejecting me, I think I fell for her more each time I would approach her. But when she pushed me away, I noticed her attitude was true. Why would she want to be with a vampire who has the title of the ‘ruthless one’ out of the three? I never cared for what others think about me but with her, everything suddenly mattered. I wanted her to accept me for me.

My reputation means everything to me, I am the one who does not show mercy and I am the one to not give second chances. As for her, I would give her endless chances if it means she gets to be mine, only she can get her way with me. I would not let anyone know how her rejection has hit me, I would rather let my anger take over me to let others know she has no effect on me. Why is loving someone so hard? Love for me was always something I viewed as a weakness, look at me for merlin sake, I feel like being locked up in a room and refusing to be out and about. 

It is what I have been doing this past month, I been in my art room staring at a blank canvas. My muse, my inspiration, and my desire to create a masterpiece has left me. Before her I would decorate my walls with weekly original art from whatever came to my mind. And yet when she turned away, my yearning vanished like I drop my helpless dead meal fall to the ground after I drained them. 

A while ago I was painting her, I happened to decide to work outside on a little platform reserved for me only and I happened to spot her in the gardens. I never revealed myself to her but I had a perfect view of her staring off into the distance, the right lighting was even hitting her and the scenery around her was every artist's dream come true. 

I only got to sketch the background because I wanted to spend more time on just her. How she was posing unaware of my eyes on her, how her lips were slightly parted, how the wind picked up her hair slightly after each breeze. How her eyes held so much emotion while her other facial features stayed relaxed. She was and still is breathtaking to me. I could spend hours drawing different sketches of her if she were to let me, I even got an idea of a new statue to add in the gardens, it would be of her.

She’s like a reincarnation of Aphrodite, no I am mistaken she is more bewitching than the goddess herself. How have I gone a millennium's without witnessing such beauty in my life? I need her, she’s my missing muse. 

Y/N POV

When I was finally mentally composed enough I walked down one of the many hallways to head to the throne room. I have a feeling he might be there, I don't know where else he could be and nobody has told me about his whereabouts. I arrive hoping to see him there but only Marcus and Aro along with some of the guards who are within the shadows are there. I want to yell at them but I compose myself. 

“Aro, Marcus, where is he?”

Aro who as always tends to act unaware of things unless it is of interest to him decides to mess with me.

“Where’s who?”

“Look I have kept my patience for a while, but if you dare to test me today I will gladly knock you out again but this time it will be a month”

The hidden guards stepped out from the shadows after my little threat, already recognizing them I knew I could take them down. I was lucky that Jane and Alec were not around because my chances of winning would be low. 

“Why should we tell you where he is? Haven't you hurted him enough? I seen his thoughts I know the suffering you have put him through since your arrival”

I wanted to rip his head off so bad. How dare he meddle into mine and Caius' life? Soul brother or not, what me and Caius go through is our own business. I know he makes some sense about the suffering and pain but I have gone through my own pain also. Marcus settled a hand on Aro shoulder before I could think about attacking him

“Aro it is not our business to intercept into our brother and his mate's issues, my dear y/n he is in his art studio. Felix? Demetri? Would you mind taking her to his studio?”

They were both by my side and led me away. Good thing these two were taking me away, they are the only ones who would manage to stop me from attacking. It was a quick sprint and they nodded toward two large mahogany doors, it looked like it was indeed doors to an art room. It also seemed handcrafted, I had never seen such gorgeous details on a door before. I opened the door slowly to do a small peek into the room to see if he was there. He was there on a stool with a loose button up shirt that was open at the throat and he had some casual black slacks. His hair was a bit messy even and yet he was the most striking being I have ever seen in my lifetime. 

His gaze snapped at me as I was closing the door, his irises were matching his pupil from his lack of feeding. His eyes also matched mine, since I was also pushing away the need to feed. He watched my every move like a cat watches a mouse before pouncing on it.

“What do you want?”

“I-I I want to talk to you”

“Is that so? Took you a month to come to some senses did it?”

Well that hurt, I already knew he was going to be a bit sharp with his words yet that line hit me a bit hard.

Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe I still need time to be able to calmly talk to him. No, no keep yourself together y/n, I need to do this for not only my sake but for Caius.

“Well go on with it, I don't have all day”

“Look if you are going to start having an attitude with me then maybe we need to wait another day then to talk”

“I am not with attitude, I am just trying to get to the point, I don't like to dance around issues”

I took an unnecessary gulp like Carlisle would do when he would break bad news to me.

“I love you”

The pencil he had his hand fell to the ground and that was the only noise that was heard after my words. 

“I know you're probably thinking, how cruel can I be to say that after everything that has happened between us but it's the truth. It's always had love for you within me but I was scared to open that door, you see I wish we could turn back time and I could explain to you everything that has been going through my mind before that fateful day. I wanted to tell you something but you left before I could and-”

“Then explain to me why you have acted like a child”

His voice lost its sharpness, instead it was soft, the same softness his eyes reflected currently. I wanted to melt on the spot by how sweet he looked.

“Before I was turned, my father would display me like some doll to show others of my availability as a wife, when he was not looking the men he was presenting me to would basically undress me with there eyes, some of them would be brave enough and leave lingering touches on me after I would shake their hands, the only males in my life I trusted after that was Carlisle, even in my time when we were apart I was never near civilization, I feared for the day I would have to be around others.” He stood up from his stool but he stayed at a distance from me still.

“When I saw you I thought it was time to heal completely from my trauma, but with the way you would approach me it gave me slight flashbacks from the past, and it made me recoil from you a bit, but at the same time I wanted to be by your side. What didn't even help my case was I had a fear of not being enough for you. How can a vampire like me who has such fears be worthy of a king like you? You deserve someone who doesn't still feel an ick when she’s around others for too long. I felt if we were to talk sooner then we wouldn't be in this position but no you just did a quick and go, made me feel unworthy of your time even”

I wanted to say more but I decided to give Caius a space to talk also, I wrapped my arms around myself for comfort and looked away from him. I feel exposed and anxious just standing here in silence, waiting for him to say something. Please say something already.

“I was not expecting you to even start this with those words”

I knew it was strange to say that but I mean I wanted to reassure him I do have feelings for him.

“I think you make a great point in we should of had a civil conversation at the start of this to avoid our current issues, I-I apologize for my behavior, it was uncalled for and inappropriate of me to try to nurture our bond by seducing you in such a way, you should of been treated like a queen with respect and love. But you are wrong of not deserving me, on the contrary I feel like it's the opposite, you deserve someone better than me, after all the shit I put you through without knowing what you been through, Marcus advised me to be there for you and yet I was hardly there”

I felt my eyes fill with venom again but I was still not looking at him so he was not aware of how I was reacting to his declaration. 

“But at the same time I thought it was a bit foolish of you to try to back away from me, you should know from now on that when it comes to you, you can tell me whatever you want, no matter how harsh or straight forward your words might get, I can take it, you are my mate after all. I never want you to feel uncomfortable around me or feel the need to distance yourself from me either because I cannot bare being separated from you, incase you haven’t noticed I haven't been feeding lately either, much like I can see from your once glowing amber eyes that I manage to fall for, but back on topic we can work on your healing process together, no matter how long it takes we do have forever after all”

I looked up at him finally to be met with eyes filled with venom too. Not really having control over my mind or body I ran to him to pull him into a deep hug. His arms not thinking twice wrapped around me like if it were second nature to him. At that moment it felt as if our issues never existed and we were happy once again, so this is how Marcus felt with Didyme, now I understand why he was so worried for us. I would rather kill every being who dared to harm Caius in any way, than to see him suffer anymore than he needs. We fit perfectly into each other, it felt like we were molded into one another, it felt like home. I'm finally home in the arms of a man I can trust and…love. 

I looked up at him and gave his cheek a kiss. I was going to kiss his lips but decided to pull a Caius in this situation with a simple “Com tempo”. He smiled lazily at me at the sudden realization that I used the same two words he said to me a while back. 

“I'm willing to go into this bond fully, no more avoiding you because that only causes more harm for us. I don't want to be separated from you either because with all honesty the moment I saw your eyes I was enchanted by you, for a moment I saw a whole future with you and even though I was recoiling from you after each encounter with you, I couldn't help but fall for you a bit each time. Even that kiss made my stomach weirdly flip” 

He caressed my cheek with his thumb while his other arm was wrapped snugly around my waist as we was listening to me. Whereas my hands rested on his chest, I was trying very hard not to look at his exposed chest and or his collarbone, because even this small exposure of skin looked like art. 

“I vow to never become one of those filthy sorry excuses of men, if I could I would hunt them down one by one and drain them completely. No one will harm you, I would certainly never dream of creating such misery for you. But why don't we take some time to spend together and just get everything out. Hmm?”

“I would love that Caius”

He leaned in to give my forehead a tenderful kiss that would have woken Sleeping Beauty herself up. 

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

Epilogue 

‘Dear Carlisle, 

As I write to you, me and Caius have come to be in a better position. We are spending more time together and we have brought up any miscommunication we failed to address from the beginning and solved them up one by one. We are at a point where I feel like we have known each other since the beginning of time. I never felt more at home since before mother passed. Caius really is my other half, we even spend hours in his art room, drawing whatever. He tends to create masterpieces of me being his muse. I even included a painting to this package I am sending of the painting I did from my garden here in Volterra.

I feel more comfortable around the others even, that ick I would tell you about is finally gone and I could spend hours with the guards who I have grown close to. I can never forget to tell you how whenever I talk to Marcus, I see a piece of you in him, I miss you so much but this is the closest I have to having you near me. I hope you and Esme plus the kids are doing well enough. Maybe soon enough we'll see each other, and tell Alice I forgive her, I now know her true intentions and I thank her”

Love y/n”

As Carlisle finished reading out loud the letter to Esme he smiled at the part of seeing his sister soon. But he did not forget to mention to Esme a ‘Finally” after realizing his sister is finally happy with her mate.

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

Officer Down | J.H.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: Jay takes a hit to the chest during a shootout and gives you quite the scare. Based on episode 6x2.

A/N: I finally wrote something!! (Shocking I know) it only took me 7 months but I’ve finally got a new fic for yall. I’m sorry for being so slow to write but the last 7 months have been ROUGH.

I’ve been wanting to write this fic forever and was finally inspired to finish it after rewatching the episode. I don’t really like how this turned out but that’s what happens after writers block I guess

Warnings: near death experiences, guns and shooting

Word Count: 637

-

This case had been difficult for the team, Jay getting hit his hardest with his dad being one of the victims on the fire. The longer the chase for the arsonist, the more you could see him spiraling. You expected it, all things considered. Jay may have said they didn’t have the best relationship, but it was still his father. What you didn’t expect was for Jay to disobey a direct order from Voight and go after the suspect on his own.

After you took his truck and two way, you thought he would be safe, far away from the action. So when you heard his call come in over the radio, your heart sank to your stomach.

“This is 5021 George. Emergency. Shots fired. Offender down, need an ambo. Lower Wacker and Columbus.”

As soon as you heard his location, you took off running, Kevin close behind. Rounding the corner, you saw Jay unmoving on the pavement, his side covered in blood.

“5021 Victor. Officer down. I repeat, officer down. Lower Wacker and Columbus. Get us an ambulance!” You rushed to Jay’s side, leaving Kevin to take care of the offender.

You tried to stay calm as you ripped open his shirt, panic threatening to override your training. You could see he was bleeding from his side, but you couldn’t tell what the damage was from the other bullets.

“Jay? Hey, talk to me.” Your voice wavered.

Jay was breathing heavily, looking at you with wide eyes. You pulled his vest away from his body, feeling under it for the bullet.

“It didn’t go through. It didn’t go through.” You pressed on the wound at his side with shaky hands. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

-

You watched intently as the paramedics patched up Jay in the back of the ambulance. There were officers all around you, blocking off the scene and questioning the other members of the team, but you tuned it all out.

Once the paramedics were done treating him and he had gotten a thorough scolding from Voight, you made your way over.

“Hey.” You took a seat next to him. “You gonna be okay?”

Jay looked at you sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m okay. No serious damage, just a few stitches and some major bruising.”

“Good.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I just couldn’t stop myself.” He said quietly.

You nodded lightly, giving him a small smile and patting his leg gently. “I know.”

The paramedic came back over and you used the interruption to excuse yourself. You could feel the aftermath of the situation setting in and you needed to get away from the scene.

You heard footsteps behind you and Kevin appeared at your side. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yep, I’m good. I’m fine.” You replied, unable to keep the emotion out of your voice.

Kevin put a hand on your arm, slowing you down and turning you towards him. “Woah, woah.” You couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you met his gaze. “Yeah, that’s the adrenaline wearing off. It’s okay.”

“I thought he was dead.” You choked out the words.

Kevin put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. “So did I.”

As the two of you made it back to the cars, he brought you in for a hug. You gripped his shirt tightly, embarrassed by your crying, but soaking in the comfort after the emotions of the past hour. You knew out of anyone, Kevin would never judge you for being human.

“I gotcha.” He rubbed your back comfortingly. “C’mon, Sarge said we’re done for the day. Jay’s in good hands. I’ll drive you home.”

You spared one last glance back towards Jay as you got into the car, only to find him looking right at you, his face etched with concern.

-

Writing Masterlist

[blitzor0de0]

The jealous St Peter prompt caught my eye. Especially the idea of him wrapping his wings around redeemed!reader, so I have a suggestion, instead of jealous St Peter, how about protective St Peter?

Maybe Lute confronts redeemed!reader and it gets ugly? The confrontation possible brings up redeemed!reader's pstd, maybe even making them think they were going to be killed again, only for St Peter to appear with Sera/Emily, and he just wraps his wings around them, blocking out the chaos around them, comforting them with soft words and kisses.

I have no excuse for not putting this out sooner I've just been refixating on obey me </3 but this was rlly fun to write despite writers block eating my ass

listened to way too much blur and gorillaz doing this

cw: ptsd, fluffy, I forgot how to write mid way through, reader is always going through it aren't they, biblical Peter, reader confesses finally, kiss!!! Emily cucking lowkey

word count: 1.5k

part 1 part 2 part 3

Safe & Sound (Saint Peter x Redeemed!Reader)

You were just minding your business, you swear you were! Delivering a parcel to Emily. But it wasn't supposed to go like this??

Backed into a wall in the Plaza, the package clutched to your chest. Your mind was swirling with emotions as your heartbeat rapidly increased, finding it harder to breathe.

Former lieutenant of the exorcists, highly feared amongst sinners, yet highly respected amongst the blind sighted angels. You had already known Heaven was a lie at that first meeting, seeing how all the higher ups hadn't a clue about the exorcisms down in Hell. If angels could fall regardless of their ‘sin’ why wouldn't a sinner be able to redeem themselves?

The logic of Adam and Lute was incredibly flawed, and since yours and Pentious’ arrival in Heaven, you had felt a murderous gaze upon you each time you left your home.

It wasn't difficult to tell it was Lute, but since Adam's death you could tell she was a little lonely despite trying to avoid her gaze at every chance you got. She was always quite outspoken in the few times you met her, but the quietness of the Plaza, and Heaven in general after Adam's death.. The silence was borderline deafening.

But today, Lute must've decided enough was enough, if she couldn't kill you, she would gladly find a way to send you back to Hell.

“You filthy scum.” She scowled, venom lacing her words. She wasn't secretive about this confrontation either, causing a small crowd to quickly appear around the two of you, mimicking a petty school fight.

But this wasn't a fight, it was a one sided dispute.

You couldn't bear to face Lute, her mask being too much of a trigger to stare at for too long, especially in a situation such as this. You opted for clenching your eyes shut, but this only infuriated the angel more.

“I have lost EVERYTHING because of you sinners… Adam. My job. My subordinates. My fucking arm. How did you do it, huh? You and that snake you both made it up here. What sort of magic did Lucifer pull, huh?”

You felt your mind spin, knees going weak as you fought to keep yourself upright, lip quivering as tears threatened to spill as you gained the courage to speak.

“..He didn't do anything. It was just as Charlie told you all… It's just rehabilitation, Sir Pentious sacrificed himself for us all, I just wanted to better my soul..” God you were about to cry, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Bullshit.” Before Lute could threaten you further, some gasps and whispers emerged from the audience. You dared open your eyes, peering behind the Executioner to see the commotion, only to be faced with the two Serafim parting the crowd.

You gasped, causing Lute to finally turn around. With Adam gone, Lute didn't really get a ‘get out of jail free’ card, so the growing look of fear upon her features was evident.

Sera was quick to whisk Lute away as Emily held your arms gently as all you could do was crumble to the ground, tears finally being free to fall.

You couldn't exactly understand all what Emily was saying, everything seemed like ringing in your ears, but you appreciated Emily's attempt to ground you.

“Oh, Peter there you are!” Emily gasped, turning to face the angel who had a worried expression upon his face.

The ever so smiley angel for once held a look of disgust towards the crowd still whispering and murmuring about your fragile state.

“I got here as soon as I could.. Are they okay??” He seemed panicked, he'd never been in a situation like this, especially with someone he cared so much for. He couldn't think straight.

“I'm not sure..” The Serafim replied, “They haven't responded to me once, I'm not even sure if they can hear me at all.. You two are..” She hesitated, “close, you should deal with them, I'll see what I can do about the crowd..” She frowned, rubbing Peter’s shoulder comfortingly before grabbing the parcel and approaching the crowd.

Peter on the other hand unveiled his wings without a second thought, shielding you from the looks and whispers. Giving you a little bit of privacy was the least he could do right now.

“Hey.” He spoke softly, almost in a cooing manner, caressing your face as if you were made of porcelain.

In a room of a thousand people, you would be able to recognise every aspect of Peter’s being. His voice, his scent, his touch.. Everything. With the delicate caress upon your cheek, you'd be foolish to not know who it was, even in such a fragile state.

Still, you couldn't bear to look up at him. Though he had seen you in such a state before, your consciousness of the situation as opposed to your exhaustion from the previous time weighed on your shoulders.

To acknowledge his presence, you simply leaned into his touch. Your ears were still ringing, probably for the better since the whispers and chatter amongst the slowly dispersing crowd weren't doing you any favours.

Peter gently lifted your head up to face him, a soft, yet pained smile upon his face. You wanted to look away so desperately, but the way he looked at you so tenderly, you couldn't stand to pull your gaze away. A shaky “I'm sorry..” left your lips before you could realise it.

Peter gained a small sense of déjà vu from that, you always did seem to apologise for things that weren't even remotely your fault.

“Don't be silly. It's not your fault. You're safe now..Okay?” You nodded slowly, taking his words in. “Lute’s being dealt with by Sera and,” He glanced behind him “everyone else is more or less gone. You wanna stay here or move somewhere else?” Just at the thought of moving, an ache spread through your legs, the weakness growing once again.

“Here please.” You replied, reaching up to turn Peter's face towards yours, you needed his attention, his gaze, his essence. He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your nose.

“I thought she was going to kill me..” You murmured, finally regaining some stability. “I.. I couldn't do it all over again.. I didn't exactly think there was an afterlife in the first place.. let alone the possibility of dying twice.. I don't think God would approve of me dying a third time.. right?”

Peter grew silent, what could he possibly say to that. To be frank, when he was alive, he had a tumultuous relationship with his belief. Of course he believed in Jesus’ word, but he was also one of the first to betray him. Being disowned from Heaven before he had even passed. How he managed to get up there and still be held in such high regards by the Lord still surprised him centuries later.

Noticing his prolonged silence your eyes widened slightly, “That was a joke, I swear.. Peter..?”

Shaking his head he snapped out of his thoughts, “Oh! Of course it was, right!.. Either way, I think I'd be able to convince God to keep you around, I am an esteemed patron saint after all!” He winked.

After such a traumatic experience, you had cracked your first smile of the day which only caused Peter to mirror a smile right back at you.

“I feel like I'm always thanking you for looking out for me. You're so pure of heart, it's no wonder I fell for you-” You paused, realising what you said.

You and Peter had shared many intimate moments together, kissed on many occasions and even slept in the same bed together but you two had never established any actual feelings or relationship, until now it seems.

You panicked “Wait Pe-”

“I love you too.” He cut you off, stars in his eyes. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he finally confessed.

Oh.

Your shoulders relaxed as you breathed a sigh of relief. “Cool.. Wait! No! Erm I love you, oh I'm such a mess just kiss me.”

With a laugh, Peter gladly obliged, pressing a small teasing kiss to your lips before indulging in all his sins with an intimate kiss.

You wanted to savour this moment forever, Peter's hands cupped your cheeks as he pulled you impossibly close, the scent of his lightly floral cologne infiltrating your senses, quickly changing from intimacy to desperation — fearing as if this kiss may be your last.

Neither of you wanted to part, continuously pulling away for a split second before either one of you pulled the other in for ‘just one more’.

Though, the unfortunate parting would come from an awkward throat clear from the younger serafim.

“Um..Guys.. Super! Happy for you two but.. You're still in public..” Emily smiled down at the two of you.

Flushed and breathless, the two of you blinked up towards her before her words finally dawned on you.

“Oh.. Oh my, Emily I'm so sorry. Um!! Peter let's go!” You rushed to stand, pulling Peter up with you who’s uniform looked a little dishevelled, bowtie lopsided as well as some hair stuck to his forehead. He was both literally and figuratively on Cloud 9.

Emily could only giggle at the sight of Peter, “I'm glad you're feeling better, have fun you two lovebirds.” She called out as you and your now boyfriendddddd departed.

[itsthesinbin]

Worth (Megatron/Reader)

i gotta do everything MYSELF around here since NO ONE sent me any earthspark megatron requests!!!!!!

i wrote this very quick at almost 2 am so if its bad..... shut up

Warnings: Mentions of reader being injured (non-graphic), mentions of blood (non-graphic)

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

Megatron was a stubborn old bot. Sure, he’d given up on his more outwardly dangerous and volatile ideals. The internal ones, though… Those were a struggle to get rid of. Like the ones where he was sure he wasn’t fully worthy of some things. Pleasure and love being at the top of his list, after everyone he had harmed and betrayed. He appreciated the chances he was given and the friendships he had made, of course. But more than that… He knew he didn’t deserve such things.

You made that part of his ideals difficult.

You were a friend of the Terrans, after a bit of an incident that had taken place while out on a walk. You became a sort of babysitter, after you were able to be trusted. Megatron remembered the thrum in his spark the first time he met you- seeing you using your tiny hands to help Jawbreaker with a little painting project you had put together for everyone. The little twinkle in your eye if you asked if he wanted to join.

“I don’t really have a brush big enough though,” you had joked. “I could try and find a really soft broom?” A couple giggles sounded through the children, and even the cranky old mech couldn’t help but crack a smile. Of course, he was more than content to watch while he waited for you all to be finished so the Terrans could train. You had sat with him while they finished, working on your own piece while you became his silent company.

Megatron was surprised you had immediately trusted him enough to sit with him so easily.

You two saw each other often, after that. A Terran always brought you along, nearly as inseparable from you as they were from their human siblings. And every time, you found a way to have your talks with him when the children were busy. He couldn’t help but ask why, one day.

“You always looked lonely,” you answered with a smile. You didn’t elaborate further, simply falling back into the topic from before. That familiar thrum ran through him.

As time went on, the feeling in his spark began to scare him. He was fond of you, sure, but you deserved something… normal. You didn’t deserve an old warlord with blood and energon staining his hands.

Oh how he wished, though. To confess to you. To hold you. To learn those little human courtship quirks that are so different from his own. Every time he was with you, he had to bite his glossa to keep from asking you to come away with him so you could talk. He had even gotten through his writer’s block. Words flowing from his fingers as he poured his spark out onto the datapad in his next piece of you-centric poetry. He was so ashamed of himself that not even Optimus could get to such a file.

And then you were injured.

A rogue Decepticon on the run happened to take a human hostage. It was an unfortunately common occurrence, especially if the con posed as an Uber or something similar. Megatron was ready to just get it over with. Then he saw you dangling from the con’s hand, half unconscious.

Megatron saw red.

Normally, he tried to be civil first- especially when a hostage was involved. But all of his training- all of his teachings from Optimus- melted from his mind in an instant. He was back to before. A cold, unfeeling machine that only knew selfish need and vengeance. He was lucky Optimus and Elita were there to keep him from killing the mech. He didn’t even hear Elita’s question of “what the frag is going on, Megatron” as he scooped up your frail form. He ignored his comrades as he transformed and began the flight to Dorothy’s home.

He didn’t trust GHOST for shit.

Megatron loved you. He realized this as he agonized having to part with your bloodied little body to allow Dorothy and Alex to heal you. He realized this as he felt his frame tremble. He realized this as he overheard Twitch say she had never seen him this distraught over anything.

Megatron realized it as he watched your sleeping form through Dorothy’s window late into the night. She was kind enough to keep the blinds up and curtains open, so he had a clear view. His optics were locked onto the rise and fall of your chest. As long as that moved, you were fine. As long as you weren’t still, you’d talk to him again.

Everyone had long since left to rest, although a few tried to get him into the barn as well. He knew he wouldn’t be able to rest comfortably until your eyes opened. Until you smiled at him again. His spark ached.

He didn’t deserve you. You didn’t deserve an old, broken soul like him. He was stuck between two states of mind: wanting to tell you his feelings, and wanting to keep them to himself so it can’t be used against him. A con managed to harm you just by chance. He couldn’t imagine the target on your back if you were on the way to possibly becoming his Conjux.

You shifted in his sleep and his spark lept in his chest cavity. It dropped again when you simply fell back into an uneasy rest. He sighed shakily, placing his head in his hand. He could almost laugh.

The mighty Megatron, brought to his knees- quite literally- by a human. The very species he had sought to eradicate to take the Earth’s energy and use it as his own. The irony is not lost on him, even in his distress. He smiled slightly, lifting his gaze back to your frail little body.

“No matter what happens next, you’ll be safe with me,” he whispered to you, although he knew you couldn’t hear. Megatron simply spoke the promise to reassure himself. Maybe by doing this, he’d earn the right to be yours. If you’d have him.

Guess he’d have to wait to know if you would.

[boywifesammy]

spn fic rect fest - 9

AUGUST 31 - all time favourites

we’re here, the big fest finale !! i tried to keep this list short but alas it got out of hand... pls go read them because they’re all wonderful and be sure to give the authors your thanks and kind words :) as before, i've tagged authors that have their tumblr public on their ao3. if you'd like me to remove the @, just lmk. @spnficrecfest for more info on the event.

dead dove & sensitive topics under the cut. TWs are given where necessary.

Touch Me Like a Razor Blade by ADeedWithoutaName (@a-deed-without-a-name) Sam/Dean, 18k, E [underage]

"For as long as he can remember, sins have caused Dean physical pain." in my mind this fic is in the golden hall of wincest fame. the idea of materializing dean's guilt is SO CRAZY and ingenious given he is THEE guilt character. especially in a story about the taboo of incest. dean's internal struggle in most wincest fics is already so delicious and painful but to make it a physical sensation that he is constantly aware of puts this perfect bow on him as a character. also because sam DOESN'T KNOW until so late into the story. are you kidding. also an actually GOOD example of bdsm!! a masterpiece, go read it and show the author allll the love!!

The Road Rhythm Outro by brokenlittleboy Sam/Dean, 50k, E [violence]

"A routine hunt goes horribly wrong. A curtain fic dealing with permanent injury, angst, and various types of trauma, and fluffy domesticity." this is my favourite permanent injury fic! the author clearly researched a lot to make it accurate and that makes it hit so much harder. there's not only the initial grief and pain, but also the recovery journey, and a thorough exploration of sam's struggle after his injury and how it effects his relationship with dean.

The voicemail by tattooalecki Sam/Dean, 3k, E [noncon]

Sam masturbates to the infamous S5 voicemail. #1 for hottest samdean smut fic. PLUS a voicemail fix-it! this particular niche of humiliation kink is my fav and i haven't found any other piece of writing that does it quite so well. it's hot and captivating while still feeling in-character. if this sounds like your thing as well then definitely check this out because it's insanely good!

snuff by chinablue (@mpregjohnwinchester) Dean/John, Sam/Dean, 5k, E [underage]

"There's nothing good on TV, and Sam's contemplating killing his father again." i had to control myself from putting all of china's fics on this list. she is SUCH an amazing writer and the way she writes johndean is my absolute favourite in the fandom. this fic manages such a delicious balance between hot, violent, possessive and horrific. i don't know how she does it! @-@

Tethered to You by lily rose/annabeth Sam/Dean, 32k, E [TW necro, violence, major char death, noncon]

"Sam wants Dean, but he'd like him even better dead." yes, this is necrophilia smut. BUT- it's also a character study and an insanely interesting look into the psychology of paraphilias. i firmly believe sam would be into something weird given the way he grew up, and the author really displays that in an accurate way. 10/10 most tasteful necrophilia i have ever consumed.

the one percent by deadlybride (@zmediaoutlet) Sam/Dean, 9k, E

Dean finds out that Sam's too big for most condoms. my fav take on the bigdick!Sam fanon. there is something soo hot about a guy being too big to be contained... it rolls perfectly into sam's gentle giant thing where he's sooo big and powerful yet quiet and unassuming. also sizequeen!Dean. whats not to love.

Brittle by thecapn Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess, 30k, E [TW ED]

"Sam Winchester has an eating disorder." so- i couldn't reread this fic when i was putting together this list. not because it's bad but because it is so beautifully written, raw and accurate that i couldn't read it again because it got me worked up. it's really that good. the ending manages to be positive without feeling preachy, and at the same time has that lingering pain of how difficult recovery is. massive tw for eds obviously, but if you can stomach the content then this is a must-read fic.

I have to live here by Goshen/applecrumbledore (@goshen-applecrumbledore) Sam/Dean, 30k, E

An angel erases Dean's memories, but only the ones about his relationship with Sam. silly amnesia fic from the one and only applecrumbledore. there's some angst as well where we get to see sam's grief over losing his relationship with dean and dean working through all the roadblocks they had to overcome to finally get together. as always the characterization is perfect and the writing is so engaging and witty.

Lima Syndrome by guestwho (@guestwho) Sam/Dean, 20k, E

Sam has extensive facial scarring from the fire. John locks him away, and Dean is as usual, not normal about him. holy SHIT i cannot rave enough about this story. it's one of those fics where you read it and wish there was more or an actual book about it because the author's writing is so compelling. it's an interesting take on the whole sam/dean codependency thing with an angle that's less supernatural focused. also freak!sam in this is sooo captivating and the smut gave me shivers, just go read it, i promise you won't be disappointed!!

hello by allwellandgood Sam/Dean, 4k, T [major chara death]

Dean's dead but his ghost lingers. Sam struggles to reach out to him. this is such a depressing but hopeful fic. it broke my heart the first time i read it, especially considering how dean dies in the finale. in my mind if dean ever died he would refuse to pass on and stay with sam just like in this fic.

With A Bit Of Spit And Luck by elsi/Prince_of_Elsinore (@prince-of-elsinore) Sam/Dean, 7k, E [underage]

"Teenage boys cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter with nothing but each other and an ancient porno on VHS to keep them warm." weecest smut extravaganza. i loveeee the trope of dean being sam's sexual awakening. the idea of them in a little cabin together while dean shows sam scratchy low quality porn is amazing and the execution of it in this fic is perfect.

lay my bones beside his bones by adastreia Sam/Dean, John/Dean, 6k, E [TW CSA]

Dean has a rape fantasy. Sam indulges him, and things come to light. a perfect mixture of smut and hurt/comfort. i also love how sam & dean's hell trauma is integrated into the johndean CSA. the scene where dean says 'dad'- i genuinely felt my stomach drop. haven't had a reaction like that from fanfic in a LONG time !! very well-written.

[blurglesmurfklaine]

4, 7, 9, 12 for the ask game <3 (all glee if possible)

Yay, thanks for these Crys! 7 was previously answered so I went ahead and skipped it :)

4. say something nice about a ship you don't ship (it can be another ship in your fandom, a mutual's OTP, etc)

I don’t ship St. Berry, but I am of the opinion that if it couldn’t be Finn, I’m glad it was Jesse. He and Rachel really are two sides of the same coin and they seem to love each other very deeply and I hope they’re happy together!

9. a ship that isn't your OTP but that you enjoy

Samcedes 😭 they are my emotional support heterosexuals your honor. But also, they are two genuinely good people who care deeply about one another samcedes you will always be endgame to me

12. compliment someone else in your fandom

Okay this is gonna be a lot because I AM going to do all the active fandoms I’m in! So under the read more!

Glee:

First of all you, Crys! And @backslashdelta You are both so talented with your gif making that it kind of drives me insane.

@kurtsascot is probably one of the most talented writers I’ve ever had the pleasure of interacting with. I feel so lucky that we’ve gotten her so late in the game! I feel similarly about @rockitmans and @thelegendofjenna

@esilher @twinkkurt and @justgleekout make the most BEAUTIFUL fanart I’ve ever seen, and I also wanna thank @carsonphillips for klainegifs and keeping the fandom interesting with their events!

@somefeministtheatrepls is not only an amazing friend but the most thoughtful beta reader and honestly partner in my writing?? Writing is much less stressful because I don’t even worry about things being clunky or weird because I know her ass will help that chapter SHINE

@nancysgillians @kurthummeldeservesbetter also get shoutouts because they are wonderful people to have in your life

Newsies:

I could fill novels with how much I love and appreciate @somanywords! Their amazing storytelling and also volunteering to make art for the MiniBang I hosted earlier this year??? On top of listening to my insane ramblings?? They don’t make em like this anymore folks

@one-paper-bag is also SOOOOOO incredibly talented with their art, and their lovely comments on my Spider-Man AU keep me going (on GOD we are gonna get you another chapter ON GOD!!!!)

@livesincerely and @agentsnickers are some of the most prolific and INSANELY TALENTED writers I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading, and also genuinely lovely people! You know when you see someone on your dash and ur just like “wow. I hope they are having a FANTASTIC day and life. They deserve one.”

@piedoesnotequalpi and @regina-cordium are also so incredibly FUNNY and have the most correct takes on every single newsie and that’s on that ❤️

911:

I’m relatively new to this fandom, so I don’t know a ton of people yet, but there are def people I see on my dash that I have noticed!

@cranberrymoons @lesbianrobin @insertlovelyperson have written some of my absolute FAAAAAAVE fics! I feel like they really have a handle on who the characters are in a way that’s true to the show and kind of difficult to pull off!

@texasbama makes amazing gifs and honestly anytime I see her on my dash I laugh bc genuinely she’s so funny. Also on the list of hilarious contributors is @buckgettingstruck

And a couple of people who I think have genuinely great vibes are @buckera @leathercouchcushion and @yaz-the-spaz

And of course I can’t talk about 911 without a second mention to @regina-cordium who puts up with all my Texas!Buddie nonsense andbansndbsk

-

Okay yeah so that was a LOT sorry!! I didn’t mean for it to get so long BUT I do mean every single word! I’m really blessed to have met so many amazing people through fandom and my experience on this site has been nothing less than superb because of yall ❤️

[beauty-and-passion]

Did you see Thomas Sanders' YouTube community post about his plans for videos, including Sanders Sides?

... well, it looks like something happened in the SaSi fandom. Jeez, I cannot leave for a couple months to celebrate the Gravity Falls renaissance, that Mr. Sanders decides to pull up some stunts while I wasn't looking :P

Maybe he hoped I wouldn't notice. That I was gone. Well, unfortunately for him, I am always around - and if I lose something, there are always nice people ready to give me a heads-up. So here I am again, ready to give my unrequested two cents about the latest updates.

A lot of things happened since dear anon wrote me this ask, so I will not talk about one single post (also because I have no idea what post the anon was referring to :P) but I will briefly talk about the latest info taken straight from the ts_criticism tag, which is always the most updated place regarding SaSi.

No, Mr. Sanders' updates do not count, considering they're non-existent.

_____________

Season 2 finale: to watch or not to watch?

There was a survey going on in the criticism tag regarding the season 2 finale and whether people would watch it on YouTube, another platform, or just ignore it.

Now we can tell ourselves all the stories we want, but at the end of the day, we know everyone will watch it - no matter if on Thomas' YouTube page or somewhere else.

And even though we already know it will never be worth the years of waiting, I am sure everyone will still give it a chance. The view count will be high.

But if that's true for part one, who knows what will happen for all other parts? What if part 1 is not worth the wait? Will people still be willing to give a try to the other parts? Will they be willing to wait who knows how long for them?

_____________

The hilariously bad Brei Grace situation

Is it so surprising, that Thomas lost another person working for him? It's basically a constant, considering people keep being laid off, disappearing or not getting paid enough. By now, you would think this man learned something from the past but hey, it looks like I overestimated his intelligence.

What I find incredibly funny about this situation is not that Brei herself had to tell the truth to the public because Thomas, as always, refuses to be honest about anything. It's about this specific part of his post regarding Roleslaying with Roman:

Oh my god, this is so bad it's hilarious.

So Thomas laid his last writer off, but apparently he wasn't clever enough to find a proper replacement before doing it and he openly admitted in a post, to his fans (including his investors) that he has no writer to replace Brei and will have to keep following/begging her to get more of the script, because there's no one else who can develop the story in her place.

Do I really have to explain why everything about this is so stupid? Do I? Okay, then:

Thomas was apparently very quick at firing Brei, but not quick enough in finding another writer before doing it. That's not how any competent person works: when I left my last job, my boss asked me to stay for a couple more days, just enough to get a replacement. But hey, I suppose "finding a replacement" and "not leaving a vacant position" were too complex, too difficult thoughts for Mr. Sanders.

Mr. Sanders showed his investors he's so disorganized and impulsive, he fired someone with no backup plan and, as a result, had to put the series on hold. One of the series people are paying him to produce. If I were still paying him, I would stop immediately after this: if you're this unprofessional, you don't deserve money.

After laying Brei off, Thomas still wants to reach her for details regarding the story. The same story he fired her from. If he was so desperate for more of her work, he should've found a way to keep her around, not laid her off, then waste more time trying to find a way to get more of her.

If I were Brei, I would ignore Thomas forever and refuse to write even one more word regarding Roleslaying. But I'm a cold, heartless person, so I don't count. Still hope Brei will have some self-respect and refuse to share her work for free just because he's begging.

Or, at least, I hope she will ask for pre-payments first.

Thomas thought it was a great idea to show how unprofessional and disorganized he is via Twitter post. And refused to say the whole truth too. And no one was in the room to tell him: "Hey, what if you get a replacement first, so at least you won't have to admit you are dropping a series because you have no writer left?".

That's so stupid it doesn't even make me mad. It simply goes all the way around and becomes pure genius.

It also (involuntarily?) reconfirms a thought I had long ago, when Joan left. When I watched the goodbye video, I expected Thomas and/or Joan to tell us: "Hey, Joan is leaving, but here is the person who will replace them!".

But nope, no introduction of a new writer, no update post. Literally nothing. Joan left and no one came in. Only vague mentions of other people and names, but mostly Thomas confirming he was the main SaSi writer.

Thomas. Who is not a writer - let alone a competent one.

That's so stupid it's hilarious.

So, since now Thomas got rid of his last writer, what will he do? Learn how to become one? Considering his lack of progress in general, I suppose not.

So what? Will he hire another one of his friends? Will he think he can do anything and write RwR himself? Or will he keep trying on SaSi, a series that is so difficult to handle and with so many stakes, that even a competent writer would have problems with?

The incompetence has just reached a new level and I can't wait to see how deeper we can go.

_____________

The spoilers for the next SaSi episode

Thanks to @t-slanders, who appeared out of nowhere and decided to feed us something more than the absolute nothing Thomas gave us for years, we know what the next SaSi episode will be about.

And look, it's a plot in which:

The main topic of discussion is Thomas and Nico's relationship

Roman is ready to push things further

Janus and Virgil are not

Virgil is hiding he's on Janus' side

Wow. Wow. That's what Thomas came up with, this is what he's working on for 4+ years and hasn't finished writing yet.

Now, I'm not saying he should've created another plot: that's the only possible plot he could've developed. The only one that made sense, considering how WTIT ended and what was hinted during the 5 year anniversary special.

Why am I so sure of that? Because those are the exact same plot points for the season 2 finale - part 1 I came up with: in my version, Thomas was questioning if he was ready to have a relationship with Nico, Roman wanted to push things further, Janus wanted Thomas to be more cautious, Virgil was siding with Janus but refused to admit it.

Sure, some elements are different of course, but the plot points are the same. The biggest difference is that it took me a few months to develop them into a plot, not 4+ years.

And since those are the plot points, I already know how they will develop too. And not because I'm a genius but, again, they can only go in one direction: Thomas will eventually agree with Janus, it will become obvious Virgil is siding with him, Roman will feel betrayed and his arc will start in the next parts. It's already all written here, it can only go this way. The time travel idea is an "embellishment", but the plot can only go one way.

However, that doesn't mean the season finale will be automatically bad. A lot of stories I can predict end up being great anyway. So no, I won't judge it for its predictability. I will judge it for the production time and the characters' personalities.

And speaking of personalities...

_____________

The tweet video

I watched it at 2x speed, because didn't want to waste too much time on it.

It was... okay. Just okay. The characters' personalities are just okay. Everything is just okay.

Sigh. I'm tired of everything being "just okay".

And no, I cannot shake the feeling that Thomas pulled out this video in 0.2 seconds, only because he had a sponsorship to do.

One last thing I want to tell now, so consider it a warning: if the next episode and/or eventual season finale part 1 are "just okay", I will consider it negatively. From a canonical episode, I expect more than to feel "meh" while watching it.

_____________

And now?

We do the same thing we do every night, my dears: we wait forever for Mr. Sanders to finally decide to update us, to work on SaSi, or to do some stupid shit worthy of a discussion.

Of course, that doesn't mean we should burn him at the stake or cancel SaSi: we are all adults here, so we will simply highlight the shit Thomas does, because if you do stupid shit, you deserve to be criticized. That's not a personal attack, that's just being objective. I hope, one day, he will learn that too.

And maybe, who knows? He will also learn from his mistakes, hire someone competent, pay them properly and not lay them off without finding a replacement first.

Or, maybe, he will just find the perfect excuse to drop SaSi/put the finale on hold forever, so he will be finally free from the burden he clearly feels. When that day comes, I wish him to find a series he will be truly passionate enough, to keep it on until the end.

And sure, of course I will be around when the supposed next episode will supposedly come out: one part of me hopes it will be good, while the other part loves shooting a fish in a barrel. So... well, at least I will be satisfied either way ;P

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  deadratz/@munsonkitten! They have 32 works in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and 31 of those are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @munsonkitten:

the sound of silence

float among the wreckage

share the same space for a minute or two

you make me feel like i am whole again

sugar on my tongue

"In a fandom with over 20 thousand fics, it's hard to find fics that stand out, and Grim has so many that feel like a breath of fresh air for the characters. His specialty is exploring Eddie's trauma, past and present, and being patient with letting him heal in a messy, realistic way that tears your heart out and puts it back. Grim takes on topics that can be difficult to explain, like trauma and gender exploration, and puts them into words so perfectly. His fics are entertaining and heartfelt and always hot, no matter which one you open, you're in for a treat and he has some hidden gems! Regardless of what's popular, Grim stays true to the characters and it's easy to trust him with them, and that's something to appreciate!" -- anonymous

Below the cut, @munsonkitten answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

When Season 4 came out, I had lost all motivation in my old fandoms. I hadn’t written anything in months, but then I saw Eddie and fell in love instantly. As I was watching, I started to have this little thought like “is anyone else seeing this?” when I saw Steve and Eddie interact, and I ended up on AO3, reading through anything that looked good out of the 300 fics that came out in those first couple of days, and then I kept reading, and I was completely inspired. I was pulled in, and I tried to write something between volumes 1&2 that didn’t go anywhere, but I didn’t want to give up on them because there was just this pull that kept me thinking of them, and then, of course, we saw Eddie’s fate and I immediately had to rectify that in my own way. I love writing Steve and Eddie because they come from very different worlds, but as a queer punk who also played sports in high school, I know firsthand how those worlds can collide and I can relate to both Steve and Eddie and how they fit into their places as the freak/jock. There’s also just a certain coziness that comes with writing Steddie for me, like they’re familiar and something I can find safety in. They’re both complex characters with traumatic experiences and there’s comfort in that and there’s comfort in being able to process my own life through the perspective of the two of them and apply different things to their canon personalities and backstories. It really comes down to, like, even though they’ve fought monsters, they’re really just regular guys, too. They’re relatable and accessible because their lives are pretty average without the monster stuff. I don’t find myself wasting time doing tons of research about certain jobs or lifestyles as I have with other pairings in the past. Steddie has just given me a lot of freedom to do what I want.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

There are so many tropes that I love. I think a lot of them depend on how they’re written, of course, so even tropes I don’t typically like to read can end up being really good to me. My go-to answer for this is usually pre-dating sharing a bed/only one bed, whether they’re sharing because they get paired up together on a trip; they’re laying low at Steve’s and Steve needs to keep an eye on Eddie while he’s healing; nightmares bringing them to each other in the middle of the night; or one of them just crashing in the other’s bed. I think there’s something so intimate about the way these scenes can be written, something very vulnerable that I just love. There’s a lot of trust that goes into being comfortable enough sleeping near someone else, and I think it’s a really good way to start Steve and Eddie’s relationship. I also love, love like any kind of friends with benefits situation where they’re obviously pining for each other and completely in love but try to pretend the things they do together is just “helping a friend out,” while mutually being in denial of feelings. It serves for great tension and there’s always really good pay off when they start dating.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

My answer for this is really similar to the last one. First and foremost, I write what I want to read. I’m just very drawn to these kinds of fics with pre-relationship intimacy that turns into something solid between them. So I love writing only one bed and pining/fwb/friends to lovers fics as much as I love reading them.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

It’s hard to choose just one favorite after almost two years of reading Steddie fics, but some real stand out fics for me that I’ve read fairly recently have been Trouble Looks Good on You by indelicate, Metamorphoses by fastcardotmp3, Play it Right by stereobone, and Doing Nothing with You by redoaktree. All of these give such nice depth to the characters and their situations and have stuck with me. “Trouble” is still ongoing, but I trust Rue (indelicate) with these characters so much that I can say it’s one of my favorites without having the entire fic yet. It just hits so many of my boxes for Steddie, has all the right factors for a phenomenal fic, and stays so true to the characters in my opinion.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I have so many plans for upcoming fics, but one I’ve been trying to find time to write for over a year now deals with a lot of grief/mourning of a loved one and includes rockstar!Eddie with a good slooow burn. It’s all things I’ve somewhat explored, but want to really expand upon with this one. I feel like I haven’t written a proper slow burn, either, because I tend to do fwb situations with slow burns on the emotional aspects and admitting feelings part of their relationship, and I want to do a full slowburn in more aspects of their relationship. 

What is your writing process like?

Usually I’m inspired by something, whether it’s a situation that happens to me or something I see on TV, and I think about what kinds of stories could be told with those elements. Sometimes I take one trope and try to build a fic around it, sometimes I see a tiktok or a scene in a show and decide I need to use that in something. Other times, I just have a sentence in my head that I have to write down and it turns into a whole page and then suddenly I have 5k words. A lot of my process is spent brainstorming with friends, talking through scenarios and seeing what kinds of responses they get, other times I have an idea and I run with it and don’t tell anyone until it’s done. There are some fics I’ve fully outlined and then gone in completely different directions, and there are some fics I never wrote down a single note for. I’ve had a few fics that started as just single sentences and turned into paragraphs and merged them with other ideas in other documents. My process is kind of chaotic and always changes, if I’m being honest, but it works for me. I think it entirely depends on the mood of the fic I’m trying to write, how much research goes into it, and how long it’s going to be, and all of that. Sometimes I’ll sit down to write something fully knowing it won’t go anywhere just to get me into a writing mood. I’m really all over the place with my process.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I don’t know if this is really a quirk, but I’m the type of person who will go weeks without writing anything and then suddenly have an entire chapter or oneshot finished in two days. I procrastinate until I realize I need to do something or until inspiration really hits me and then I just lock it in and write nonstop until it’s done.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

This is kind of fic-dependent. If I know for sure that I have the time and motivation for a story, I post as soon as I get chapters finished. If I know I don’t have the capacity for another long form fic, I’ll write out the first chapter and leave it in my drafts until I get a bit further on it, just working when I’m between other projects or stumped on something else. I wouldn’t exactly say I post on a schedule because it’s nowhere near consistent, but I’ve never finished a full multi-chaptered fic before I start posting. I do write a lot of oneshots and two chapter shorter fics, though, so those two chaptered ones are usually close to finished before I post them.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Hands down, the sound of silence. They’re not done yet, but ‘you make me feel like i am whole again,’ and ‘sugar on my tongue’ are also up there with ‘sound of silence.’ It’s my longest fic in this fandom (currently) and my second longest fic I’ve ever written. I put so much of myself into this fic and I’m just really proud of myself for it. There were some definite challenges with this one, with one character in the main pairing barely having any dialogue for the first half of the fic, with the other half of the pairing navigating his newfound sexuality and his life being turned upside down yet again, and I also have a few outsider POVs like Wayne, El, Robin and Hopper sprinkled in there, which is always difficult to work in for me. I’m proud of myself for doing all of that and finishing it.

How did you get the idea for the sound of silence?

This fic started as two separate documents, just unconnected pieces of different stories, both of them hitting dead ends with no hope for continuation. I had started with just a simple idea of Wayne and Steve meeting after the events of season 4 put Eddie in the hospital, and I wanted to show the way Wayne cares for the people who love Eddie, and that ended up becoming the beginning of the fic once I put all the pieces together. The other document I had started around the same time was a short Wayne POV about living with Eddie after S4 and the person he turned into after losing so much of himself. I wanted to explore the idea of someone as loud as Eddie going non-verbal for weeks to months at a time (something I explored in a different fandom, so that sort of inspired me to write SOS too), and when I finally put those together, it just felt like everything was so clear to me and I took off with these ideas.

When writing float among the wreckage, what was something you didn’t expect?

Oh boy. This one was actually difficult for me because I wanted it to be a hate sex fic, and I realized I’m just incapable of making Steve and Eddie hate each other at all. I did something like that one other time earlier when the fandom was still pretty new, but wreckage came to me nearly a year into writing them and I’d really cemented the idea of these characters in my head, and it was just… Very unexpected that I struggled to tap into that tension and hatred. It ended up being less about hating each other and more about misplaced/misidentified feelings in the end.

What inspired share the same space for a minute or two?

I think my friend Teddy actually gave me the main idea for this one. An end of the world “I’m going to die a virgin” apocalypse setting during “season 5.” From that, I just started writing and saw where it took me, and I’m happy with where I took it. Sometimes all I need is one sentence and then I have 11k words written in just a few days, and that fic was one of those times.

What was your favorite part to write from sugar on my tongue?

This is a really hard question because I love so much of this fic and it’s still ongoing so I might still write something I love even more than any previous parts. Without giving too much away, it’s probably a tie between their first smut scene in chapter 1, their club night in chapter 2, and the part in chapter 3 where Eddie’s walking down the road after he runs out of gas and has a lot of introspection about his life and how he finds safety in Steve. One of my close friends told me the writing in that last part was beautiful and I’ve since decided it’s one of my favorite things I’ve written.

How do/did you feel writing the sound of silence?

Sound of Silence was very cathartic for me. I’m so proud of this fic and it deals with so much I rarely see in fanfiction – some of the topics are unsexy and there are a lot of symptoms of mental illness that are highly stigmatized that people just might not want to read in a story. But I knew it was the story I needed to tell for Eddie, mostly, but for Steve, too, and for myself. It’s not always happy, but it’s real to me. Life can be ugly and people can be volatile and traumatized and struggle with sexual function and have undesirable compulsions, and writing that whole fic felt like a release in a way because it’s stuff I relate to and stuff my best friends have also gone through. And the comments on this fic have made me feel seen and less alone in the things I struggle with that I had Steve and Eddie struggle with, as well. I think it’s just really important to have those fics that give at least one reader some comfort in their own situations.

What was the most difficult part of writing you make me feel like i am whole again?

This fic is about gender identity and pregnancy and love and all sorts of stuff that can be hard to put into words. I’ve never experienced a pregnancy, so there’s a lot of research that goes into that, a lot of reading firsthand accounts and finding out all sorts of things that weren’t taught in sex-ed classes. It’s also been a very vulnerable fic for me because Steve and Eddie both experience gender in ways that I do, too. Every time I write about identity and dysphoria through them, I’m putting parts of myself on display for others, and that can be hard, especially when people don’t always understand. I’m very protective over this fic, and I’ve had to defend aspects of it from people who can’t always accept other people’s experiences with gender identity and queerness. That’s been difficult, even well meaning comments can come across as criticism when the writing is so close to home, and it’s been a struggle to keep my head on straight with this one. But as difficult as that may be, the pros outweigh the cons with this fic. It’s so rewarding when people DO relate to the things I write about, and it’s been validating for my own identity and I’ve been told so many times the fic has felt validating to others, too. So as difficult as it can be, I wouldn’t change anything. 

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I mentioned this bit of sugar on my tongue earlier and I think it’s my current favorite, but I have so many scenes and lines from other fics I’d consider my favorites: The sun beats down on his face and arms. He’s burning, red skin and hot tears. He feels like he needs to crawl out of his own skin. To leave it on the ground and walk away someone else.  Someone who doesn’t have to deal with Al Munson, doesn’t have to deal with a town that hates him for things he didn’t do. He wants to be someone who doesn’t have to be Eddie Munson at all. He just wants to be someone else, to feel safe in the skin he wears.  He thinks Steve might be the only person who makes him feel that way, even if it’s only for a glimpse, a small fraction of his life. Even if it’s just in the quiet hours of the morning when they’re curled up in Eddie’s bed, or when they’re just two boys kissing in a bar where no one knows their names. He wants to feel like that again. Safe. 

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m helping with a Sub Eddie Week event in April, so if anyone wants to do a fic or art for that event, you can find all info @subeddieweek. Most of my upcoming work is going to be made for this event, so stay tuned.

Thank you to our author, @munsonkitten, and our anonymous nominator! See more of deadratz works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!