#her writing process <3

[alluralater]

🥾 Ahh so adding to that weight on your shoulders and showing your incredible strength. Sounds like not only do you love them and are proud of them but you're proud of what you've been able to help them to achieve. Your reflection is partly showing the success of others you've supported, coming from that role as a parent as a youngster. - that's beautiful.

Currently - only myself and my own depression. I'm doing my masters next year but focusing on the now is super hard. I prioritise my work over me and then have nothing left. It's just me that's in the way.

Okay new Q : if you could have dinner with any famous person who would it be?

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

[dancefloors]

it's so funny how people were shitting on you for saying the album was going to be about matty and it turns out you were right lmfao, how does it feel to be vindicated like this?

don't worry im being as annoying as possible about it. like I predicted this literally down to the fact that she reconnected w him / was emotionally cheating in 2022 and left Joe for him just to get ghosted by him and that he was the tortured poet in question. they hated jesus bc he spoke the truth

[babygirlgiles]

I think my fic where Xander accidentally becomes a successful novelist (largely without realizing it) is the funniest idea I’ve ever had. This guy started writing little stories to remember their adventures in Sunnydale (his last line in Chosen about “how will anyone even know about this unless we tell them” burrowed itself into my little archivist brain and won’t let go) and posts them online. He unintentionally goes viral. He thinks someone named Simon N. Schuster is leaving him voicemails. He ends up on the New York Times bestseller list.

He doesn’t even realize that everyone else thinks the stories are fiction. Xander is out here writing autobiographical non-fiction but everyone else thinks he’s a weirdly dedicated author that’s really committed to maintaining a Lemony Snicket style pseudonym/persona for the narrator of his novel. There are “Who Is Xander Harris?” articles. No one can dig up much of anything on him because he lived his whole life in a town that got wiped off the map. He keeps rejecting requests for interviews because of his stage fright. At first this drives his publicist absolutely ballistic but it just adds the the air of mystery that’s drumming up book sales so she lets it go.

He only responds to questions over email and only ever responds “in character” as his “novel’s narrator” and this baffles everyone, only adding to the supposed mystery. It’s literally not even Xander actually writing the emails 95% of the time. It’s Dawn. She has appointed herself as “Xander’s representation” even though she doesn’t really know what being someone’s representation means. She printed business cards.

[quailxcrossing]

maybe i didnt need to worry about anything, maybe i just had to make the comic

[navysealt4t]

first official day of napowrimo!!! april 1st prompt is: poem that recounts the plot of a novel you haven't read in a while. (warning for themes of war, bombing, & past abuse)

overnight in a bomb shelter

if the world ends this week  please brush my hair  i won’t ask you to be gentle  let me walk barefoot  farther away than the eye can see  in weather cold or warm  i may bite you  sting and curse you  don’t come too close  feed me and bathe me  that’s all i ask   but bombs scream overhead  planes shriek with their engines  sirens blare from the streets  in a murky shelter  buried beneath the mud  of your childhood home  your calloused hands are soft  dropping a blanket ‘round my shoulders  reading a book in the dark  my ears ring and my hands shake  you shield me with your palms  you promise to teach me to sew  to read and write  to run and climb  in moments in the dark  where the world might end  where all i smell is mold  you treat me like a child  who has never known love  i treat you like a woman  who has never known love  and for a moment  the world feels right  as the bombs scream overhead  ‘cause the world might end tonight

[maddymoreau]

I'm enjoying Fallout 3 a little more but there’s one thing that’s extremely bothering me.

How come, in the dialogue options, I can NEVER can mention, I was FORCED to leave the vault?

I didn’t have a choice but to leave. Jonas Palmer was beaten to death in attempts to get info about my father James. The Overseer was going to have the same done to me if not WORSE.

The Lone Wanderer: "So they killed Jonas, and I'm next, is that it?"

Amata: "Yeah. It's lucky I got here ahead of them. But we can't stand here talking! You're got to get out of here!"

I understand my father didn't know this would happen. That he simply thought I wouldn't be able to leave the vault after he escaped.

But the fact I can never explain what happened when reunited with him is just so ODD!?!?!!?

I COULDN’T STAY!!!!!!!

I FEEL LIKE THIS IS IMPORTANT INFORMATION YOU SHOULD WANT TO KNOW DAD!!!!!

WHY ARE THESE MY ONLY OPTIONS?!?!?!?!!!!!

Why give me that entire section where I had to escape the vault to avoid MURDER!!?? If they were going to back me in a corner (dialogue wise) that I would've gone after my father no matter what.

It would've made the dialogue option, "Why would you throw away the life we had?" WAY MORE INTENSE AND INTERESTING IF I COULD TELL HIM HIS ACTIONS UNINTENTIONALLY AFFECTED ME!!!

It could've been followed by a cute bonding moment where he apologizes and says while this life was never what he wanted for me he'll now help me adjust however he can.

[astor-and-the-endless-ink]

my sister is making characters for her first novel im so proud of her <33

[ssreeder]

Ok so I NEED TO KNOW

Will the gaang eventually meet Hama?

Bcuz i think thst if they do It would be such a cool interaction for sokka (and zuko' too but i think mostly sokka since ✨watertribe✨) and Hama since Hama was Stolen from the S.WT and then locked up for the rest of her life in the FN ship and theu could "bond" over it so Sokka also has a connection w Hama other than only hama n Katara (like in Canon) and then later on when She bloodbends him and theres a whole ass betrayal and he feels betrayed by her bcuz they have such familiar experiences snd when she gets taken out he just fucking breaks donw snd more trauma yayyyyyy

Sorry i love ANGST lol (and ik you do too ;> )

Even t'ho il It probably wont hsppen Its still a nice suggestion i Just pictures in my head lol

OH LIAB HAMA…..

if only you were real you could unleash so much angst onto our favorite prison pals… OH SHIT WOULD THEY ALL THREE BE PRISON PALS?! (Technically Katara went to prison too sooooo…. Is she an honorary pal as well??)

In all seriousness, the idea of Hama being in LIAB and the amount of heartbreak and pain she could unleash would be unparalleled, while also stirring up so many painful sentiments for EVERYONE… ahhhh…. Good thing she won’t be making an appearance or idk if our gaang could handle it! Feel free to write your own spin off though! I’d love to read it!

[dylanlila]

whenever i talk about elena take it with a grain of salt because she is like a god to me so i am bound to romanticize her

[dollypopup]

listen, i'll say it

if S3 doesn't give us significantly more Colin scenes, it'll be a failure

Colin is completely underdeveloped as a character. He has gotten just about 0 POV. All we know about him is either filtered through Penelope or in an ensemble scene with everyone else. And at this point, even if S3 is half and half, it still won't be fair. To balance out the discrepency, it should at *least* be 75% Colin and maaaaaaaaybe 25% Pen because we've gotten nothing for him

I ship Polin, I like Pen, but I'm over getting Pen's POV all the time. We've had enough of it. We've certainly had an unfair amount of it in comparison to his. I'm sick of seeing all the Whistledown behind the scenes and all her quiet contemplative moments when Colin doesn't so much as get 5 minutes focused on him being on the boat, or on his travels, writing his letters or talking through a problem to himself.

I love Colin. He's my absolute favorite character. And it sucks to have a favorite character who is *supposed* to be a lead but has had a grand total of nothing. Bton stripped him of character qualities and threw them onto Benedict, gave Colin like 5 lines, and filtered near all his 'development' through Penelope. Aside from his 'everyone says that [I'm Daphne's favorite]', our literal second scene of Colin is through Penelope's eyes. Everything he says, everything he does: it's always through Penelope's eyes. And I'm over it. I wanna see the world through *Colin's* eyes. And it would only deepen the narrative if we do.

Listen, the directors and showrunners have called Colin 'stupid' or 'dim' or 'not smart enough for Penelope'. The fandom has been rather blatant with their disregard of him, calling him boring, that he's not leading man material, writing him as a cardboard cutout in fics, assuming he's an empty charmer (hmmmm, just like what he's upset about in the books), and it's all because he's been denied a narrative. Colin is a rich, nuanced character. He's funny, he's kind, he's compassionate, he rejects toxic masculinity, he's got imposter syndrome like nothing else, he has a very unique role in his family and experienced a very unique perspective after his father died, he has hobbies (writing, boxing, fencing, studying, traveling) and strong values. But we've barely gotten any of it. Sure, we're *told* some things about him, but we never *see* it.

So if S3 is going to be his time to shine, his season, his falling arse over elbow in love era, they *have* to give us his perspective, and I don't fucking want it all to be his perspective about Pen. I am *tired* of Colin as an extension of Penelope. Penelope has had so much room and time and care to be a character on her own. Colin has gotten nothing. And that kind of dynamic does not a good love story make. And if all that underdevelopment wasn't to pull an Uno Reverse on us and give us a season that focuses on him and builds him up, what was it even for?

S3 should be Colin's story

[berryblu-soda]

Anyways update i just didnt bother to post earlier:

fr God is good and the whole car crash my parents got into last week was so incredibly mild in terms of injuries!!!! worst was a bruised knee im pretty sure

ALSO-

*taps mic* HUG YOUR FREAKING LOVED ONES OR SO HELP ME!!!!!!!

[merakiui]

mera i am so excited for TMDG, you’ve been dropping hints about it every now and then like girl you’re teasing us at this point (affectionate)

i can feel that it’s going to be a masterpiece, you are cookin so much for us like what did we do to deserve you ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

and the recent one with azul…it made me so!!!! (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) will you write something happy or lighthearted for our poor tako now that he’s home? i can imagine him kneeling on the floor gripping your ankles right now, asking for orgiveness and a happy ending lmao

also take care and keep safe always!!

Forgive the occasional teases!! I can't help it!!!! 80 pages in and I am vibrating with excitement AAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! o(≧∇≦o) it reads like Azul thought 4 with a romantic tone, so if you've ever wanted scary, yet also fluffy yandere eel you will hopefully enjoy it (I think and hope. ^^;;;;)!!! :D TMDG may just be my Jade magnum opus. I have had too much fun writing it and I think that will be obvious when you read it hehehe. Thank you for looking forward to it and saying it will be a masterpiece!!!! ♡( ◡‿◡ ) everyone who likes Jade (and Floyd) will be feasting because there are plenty of yummy scenes!!!!

^^;;; perhaps "sad" was too much of an understatement. It is a tragic fic for both Azul and the reader... If tako is at my feet begging for forgiveness, who I am to ignore him? ❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀ although I will probably write something fluffy for him! It looks like most are in favor of giving Azul his discord mod fic, so he may just get his happy ending after all!

Thank you for your kind words!!! <3 please also be sure to take care of yourself and stay safe!!!!!

[gingerpeachtea]

🦀🧳🦀

YAY AIRPORT CRABS have 10 sentences from burning suns!!!

She fixed her hair while he worked, a feeble excuse not to look at him, though she also wouldn’t want him seeing her like this regardless. Sweat stuck wisps of hair to her forehead. She should’ve long since caught her breath, and her heart had calmed, but not entirely—a state that should be reserved for the company of aching thighs and pillow talk, not a poor stage performance. He placed her shoes neatly beneath her vanity, where she always kept them. Christian wrapped a loose hand around her ankle, his thumb slipping beneath the crosses of her fishnets to rub small circles over the bone. She looked down at him, still knelt before her. Her eyes fell to his hand [before he could/before he had the chance to meet her gaze]. “What is it?” she asked. She knew the answer. For all the ways he’d changed, Christian still hadn’t lost his boyish avoidance of directness. She considered some kind of physical comfort, perhaps a hand on his shoulder or cupping his cheek, but didn’t move.

(make me write!!)

[chronal-anomaly]

Someone put the doomfist fight on my Twitter timeline time to be annoying

[youraveragecatastrophe]

In season 2 episode 5, Carmen says "the idea of even having a headquarters may be a little too 'VILE island' for me".

I feel we're now touching the heart of the matter of HQ for Carmen. Not that Carmen wanting to see the world or not knowing where to rest wasn't true, but this may be the bigger and more subconscious reason why she hadn't tried to find an HQ.

This line shows just how deeply she was affected by VILE and her upbringing. Apart from not knowing who she is without VILE and being unable to imagine herself not trying to stop them... just having a place to rest and put her things, somewhere to call home, somewhere to organize future capers- all that makes her think too much of VILE island.

She's trying to distance herself from VILE so much that anything that looks slightly like them is to be avoided. Do you think that, because they raised her and she believed in their teachings for years, Carmen is afraid of becoming like them without even noticing it?