#i also could use some more creativity when it comes to writing tags/comments on other peoples work

[joifee]

i sometimes wish i had like deep and thoughtful ideas or headcanons for my favorite mcyt blorbos but all my head can produce is like silly ideas

which is okay because for me the main thing that attracts me to the mcyt content is the fun it gives me. I love them being silly and clearly having fun. I love it when you can clearly tell that they are friends. I like them being upbeat, non serious. I like the canon. Also i am just not great with angst so thats also a thing to count in.

On a creative side tho i wish i could expand on the thoughts and carry them further but thats like the biggest of my struggle when it comes to creating stuff or headcanons or AUs. Or with interacting with the fandom, finding people to talk about it - combined with my shyness i just dunno what to talk about or how to interact with other peoples ideas beside saying "thats really cool". Thats ends up in me feeling lonely, even tho I am the person that should take that on and interact with others. After all I am not like a damsel in distress waiting to like be picked up and talk about stuff - i need to start the conversation to get anywhere. I just wish i could know how - and it makes me feel shallow for not knowing. Even though - its not somethings I should feel bad about; theres nothing to feel bad about for being just shy and socially anxious when it comes to the own interests. And well I always was a better listener.

But its okay to feel unsure about stuff like that; there isnt really a grandmaster to tell you the skills of communicating in a way that fits to yourself - might as well become your own master in it in your own unique way.

[rumplereids]

hii!! i’ve read some of your docs and they are just awesome !!

i wanted to ask you if you could write a fic (paring Spencer x fem!Reader) about the BAU chasing the unsub and they manage to catch him, tough he did fire some shots that didn’t hurt anyone except reader but reader doesn’t realise it until she starts to feel dizzy and feels her shirt wet only to find a gun wound on her side, spencer is really worried etc etc.. you know an hurt/comfort !! :3

sorry for my bad english 😞😞

take your time !! :33

tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. hurt/comfort. reader gets shot. blood. reader using sexual jokes as a coping mechanism. a/n: unedited! set around season 12, bcos i just rewatched the s11 finale lol. i also took some creative liberties but i hope u still like this :) masterlist. requests are open !

There’s something Spencer always did before the team goes out to take down an unsub.

First, in the car, in the calm before a probable storm, he would take two fingers into the collar of your bulletproof vest. He’d tug on the back, checking the tightness of the straps while confined in the SUV’s backseat. And then, the same hand would run down your back. A comforting gesture that grounds him more than he’d admit. And lastly, he’d take your hand in his. Squeeze it three times in a silent ‘I love you’. He’ll wait for you to squeeze back, and your eyes would meet for a second, words unneeded as your gaze tells each other to take care.

It’s a routine done even before you officially got together. Tonight was different.

You were on the way back to the station after re-interviewing a witness with Rossi. You’re sat on the passenger seat, notepad in hand, attempting to arrange your thoughts on the case. A ringtone coming from the car speaker distracts you from your musings. Rossi reaches over to accept the call.

“Yeah, Hotch?”

“We found him. Garcia sent the location to your cells. You’re 20 minutes away from the address, but do not engage. Keep your distance and wait for the rest of us.” Hotch drops the call after you reply with an “On it, boss.” You flip a switch on the console, turning on the sirens.

“I still hate how loud these things are,” you make a passing comment.

Rossi spares you a glance, a bemused look in his eyes, “I haven’t gotten used to it either.”

You turn to reach for your vest behind the passenger seat. After putting it on, you triple check the straps. And then, you unholster your standard issue pistol, thumb on the catch, before you check your mag.

Rossi’s turning the corner while you holster your gun, reaching over, you turn off the siren. Based on the profile, this unsub will not hesitate to draw guns if met with law enforcement. Best not give him a heads up. A few blocks ahead, you see the bright neon sign of the motel the unsub is hiding in. Rossi shifts the SUV into a slow crawl. He stops a block away, a safe distance that still gave you a good vantage point of the motel. You keep a lookout, Rossi putting on his vest while your eyes pass over each entrance, exit, and window on the two-storey building. You notice movement on the first floor. A shadow behind a curtain on the second floor.

You’re starting to get antsy when the rest of the team, and the local cops arrive. You quickly open your door, walking toward where Hotch, Tara, and Spencer were huddled by the trunk of a precinct car.

“Are you attempting to negotiate?” Rossi asks from your side. Spencer’s eyes meet yours from where he’s hunched over a map. Embedding the floorplan into his mind. You watch his eyes rake over your body twice. Eyes running to each strap on your vest. Your heart warms at the gesture.

“He has hostages,” Hotch’s voice breaks your eye contact with Spencer. The sheriff walks toward your team, a megaphone in hand. Hotch thanks the sheriff, turns on the speaker, and begins to call out for the unsub.

“Bryan Masen! FBI! Come out with your hands above your head!”

You see the shadow shift on the second floor. And then, a loud bang. Bryan Masen has an assault rifle, shooting out of the windows of the motel lobby, while a second unsub shoots their own rifle from the second floor. In all the chaos of gunshots and screams, your mind rotates through three things; Is Spencer okay? A partner wasn’t in the profile. My ribs hurt. Is Spencer okay? A partner wasn’t in the profile. My ribs hurt. Where’s Spenc—

The following silence was deafening.

And then, a group of uniforms led by Hotch and JJ move in on the motel. You begin to stand, intending to join the second group of uniforms with Luke and Rossi. Subconsciously, your hand presses against your side. It’s warm. And wet. You take one step forward. Hear Spencer call out your name. And then, it all turns black.

Spencer’s hands won’t stop shaking. He stares at it. The red on his palms. It’s drying, and all he can do is stare blankly at it. His knee jerks. It won’t stop. He feels a hand on his shoulder. Heavy. Comforting. Unwanted. He hears Luke ask him if he needed anything. He can’t hear his own reply. Hunched over his bloodied hands, he sees the boots peeking between his fingers. Black. Leather. Heeled. JJ tries to get him to wash his hands. He feels hands guide him to a sink. That same hand on his shoulder leaving when smaller hands take his in their own. The water is cold between his fingers. The hand scrubbing his knuckles is warm. He can’t afford to look away. Can’t risk his eyes closing for more than a blink. He needed to be distracted by something. Knowing that if mind was preoccupied by any other menial thing, he won’t be forced to see your body falling onto the sandy ground. Over and over. The scream in his throat. The thud. The frantic hands. Red, red, red. Pale lips and eyes closed. Over and over.

He has half a mind to stop JJ from cleaning his hands. But then, the faucet turns off. Paper towels are pressed into his hands, and JJ guides him back to where the rest of the team are waiting. Their silence tells him that there hasn’t been anything new. He falls into a chair. Numbers. Statistics. That can help him focus on something else.

The number of GSWs treated per biennium increased from 1,349 in 1996-1997 to 1,484 in 2014-2015, with a 59% increase occurring from 2010-2011 to 2014-2015. Overall mortality was 14.6%—

An unfamiliar name calls out your name.

He stands before anyone else can react. Like a wolf descending on a prey, he begins a barrage of questions; “Where is she? Is she okay? Is she ali—”

“She alive and well. The shrapnel missed any major arteries, and we were able to take every fragment out. Major bruising around her ribs. She’s currently sedated, but you can come and see her.”

Spencer bites back an attempt to snap, wanting to raise his voice and demand that they bring him to her already. But he doubts you’d let him get away with such a behavior. And so he silently follows after the doctor, fists pressed against his sides, thumb popping a knuckle.

When he enters your room, it’s dimly lit. But he can see your face, and the bruise on your cheek from when you fell unconscious. His eyes take you in, every inch of you. The hair pulled behind your ears. The medical gown covering pallor skin. The tube connected to the crook of your elbow. He reaches a hand out, smoothing your hair, before taking a deep breath in. He remembers your comment about the smell of hospitals.

“I’ll stay with her,” he mumbles. Two fingers pushing down the collar of your hospital gown. You don’t like it when your clothes bunch up around your neck. His fingers subconsciously move to trace the side of your throat. Moving to feel the beat of your pulse beneath his fingertips.

“I’ll bring your bags back in an hour,” he nods once to acknowledge JJ’s words.

“Thank you,” he coughs away the lump in his throat. You’re alive. You’ll be awake in a few hours. You can go home by the end of the week. He forces himself to feel optimistic.

“Get some rest if you can, Reid,” Hotch speaks from where he’s standing nearest to the door.

He nods, opting not to say anything. Unable to make promises.

Your eyes are heavy when you come to. You can feel the crust on your lids. The cool of the AC against your cheek. Slowly, you open your eyes. There’s a painting of a grassy field on the wall in front of you. You turn your head. Spencer has his socked feet up on the armchair. Curling into himself to fit better. He has his focus on your copy of Pride and Prejudice. You can tell it’s yours by the sticky tabs peeking between the pages.

“Spence?” your voice is throaty and hoarse. Struggling to crawl out. He still hears it, anyway.

“Oh, baby,” he drops your book on the chair, moving to sit by your side. His forehead presses against yours, his hands cup your jaw. Spencer presses a kiss on the apple of your cheek.

“You scared me,” he confesses with a whisper.

“I’m okay now,” you bring a hand into his hair. He moves his kisses down to your jaw.

“I was so afraid of losing you.”

You take his kisses as he freely gives them. He hides his face into your neck, kissing where it meets your shoulder. You move your hand down to scratch where his hair ends before his nape. “You could never get rid of me,” you say with a small smile. He presses a kiss where your neck meets your ear.

Right hand on your cheek, left hand going down to grip the flesh below your scapula. Slender thumb and finger pinching the softness behind your armpit. He breathes in the scent of you. Your hand starts to massage the muscle where his neck and shoulder meet. You know that he feels heavy there whenever he gets stressed out. You want to crack a joke at how tense he is, but keep it in and choose to give him comfort instead.

“I love you,” his lips whisper against your skin.

You sigh, the sound making him look up to meet your eyes.

“I was so scared too,” it was your turn to confess.

“You’re okay. We’re both okay,” he moves his hands to take yours into his. You squeeze his hands thrice.

“I asked Hotch to give me time off while you’re on medical leave.”

“You did?”

He squeezes your hand back. Three times like you both always have, and always will.

“I also had to call your family,”

He watches you grimace, “How did they take it?” He gives you a slight wince of a smile.

You let out a sigh, “I’ll call them in a bit.”

“Your mom is taking a flight to Washington,” he informs you.

“That sucks. We won’t have the house to ourselves for at least a month.”

He raises a brow at you, “Why would it matter? You’re not allowed any strenuous activity for three.”

You give Spencer a little pout, chastised that he easily called you out, “That’s just mean.”

He gives you a withering look, “Behave.” He gives you one more kiss on the cheek, moving to stand from your bed. He has to tell the team you’re awake. Taking your phone from the end table, he begins to draft a text.

“I still have my hands, you know.”

He turns to you, caught off guard. Disbelief painting his features.

“You did not just say that,” he says.

You stick a tongue out.

“Stop it. You’re injured,” he says with a slight reprimand.

“So? That didn’t stop us when your knee got shot.”

His mouth falls open, “I can’t believe you.”

“Three months is just a recommendation. You would know.”

You grin at the blush that takes over his face.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite @khxna please feel free to send an ask to be added to my general taglist!

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 5 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: the second year of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly concerning traditions 

warnings (TW): swearing, gambling, illegal activities, illusions of past abuse 

tags: fluff, affection, mutual-pining

notes: canonically no one knows anything about shermie really, which would be hilarious if I didn’t have to write about it \\ also i feel like there not too much fluff in this (could be really fucking wrong lol) but the next part i have drafted is sickingly sweet so just give me some time 

Also (again) i’ll begin linking a legit masterlist below with all the parts! I thought of renaming each era but the naming part of things is where im legit the leassst creative for some reason? maybe later idk? but anyway! so much love from everyone! thank you so much! you don’t know how much i appreciate the love and the comments, thats why i continue writing this ahhhhhhh! thank you!!!

word count: 4.4k 

| masterlist | part vi |

March, 1984 

It had taken her several months to come to terms with what had to be done for the sake of their identities. 

He had been more open with her concerning his past in that one two-hour conversation than he had in the past year in its entirety. Something that would shake a normal woman, but she had become so oddly attached to her new partner she almost didn’t care about the picture he painted of what he used to be - something he insisted he still was. Bad. He had said to her that night. That he wasn’t any good. 

The painting only flooded with more color, in those following months after said heart-to-heart. His conversation with his mother spoke of it. It also spoke of a man who truly honestly couldn’t be the picture he had painted. 

It’s something they had both tiptoed around, conversations of their parentage. Of course, because of Ford, she knew that they grew up in the typical American nuclear family home, with a mother who lingered in doorways and a father who raised his hands as frequently as his voice. But she didn’t know how intertwined Stanley had been with his mother in particular. 

Which was hard, considering he was now legally dead. 

That first frantic conversation they had had over the phone had shaken him, had him reconsidering. But watching Doc’ wait in anticipation and disbelief in the next room over quickly made him change his mind. It was so they would be safe, he reasoned. 

His mother had called believing she was calling Ford after she received the shattering news that her baby boy was presumed to be dead. Baby being used here loosely, seeing as Ford was only truly older by a mere fifteen minutes. 

His mother hadn’t been shocked Ford hadn’t contacted her in that past year, something he had shook off every time he passed the landline. He thought to call her. But she was quite hung up on not having heard from Stanley that past year, insisting in her ways that surely he would have called, her free-spirited boy was always much more inclined to call her, something she had never blamed Stanford for of course. Just a flippant difference between her two boys. One called and the other lingered in doorways, like her. 

Stanley had reasoned with her over the landline. Insisting that he, unfortunately, would not be able to make it to his own brother's funeral, something she had tisked at, raising her voice to who she assumed was Stanford. This is your brother! She had insisted. You loved your brother, don’t say you didn’t. Everyone makes mistakes, you need to forgive him now. 

It was not until after the event that she called again, telling him not to worry. That she had attended for him, but that his father was just as busy as him. Something unspoken between them, just as stubborn. She had meant to say. Just as ignorant. 

His mother spoke with him in a different tone over the phone, a difference in how she held cadence when she was talking to Stanford rather than Stanley, something he wondered if Poindexter ever noticed. 

His Doc’ knew the conversations drained an odd part of him, so she did her best to work around him when his mother did ring their landline. Something she did semi-frequently now that Stanley was officially dead. 

In the beginning, she had lingered in the next room, then drifted through doorways, and eventually made it until she sat at the kitchen table with him, playing with his fingers in hopes of baiting him away from the phone. If the conversation was shorter then surely he wouldn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t for too long. 

She later realized this was a mistake, no matter how his impression of his brother gnawed at an odd part of her psyche. So she moved from him, doing dishes and cooking. But still oddly near him. 

It was easier to lean into domesticity when she played it so well around him, and it made the phone calls less nerve-wracking to take. Pretending his wife was doting on him, that his long-distance mother was calling to check in, and pretending he wasn’t a fraud and a failure. So he usually insisted on her presence. And he pretended that she played a role in it all and that his mother didn’t sound different over the phone. One big lie to make him breathe better. 

It’s after one of these phone calls that he slumps deep in his kitchen seat one day, and she turns from the dishes in the sink to ask what’s wrong. 

“We’re gonna have to tell her one day.” 

“What?” 

“That we’re married, doll.” He crossed his arms, a contemplative look overtaking him. The first time he’d said the word since that conversation in the car. “I don’t know how long until we have ta’, but I know we gotta.” 

“Okay.” She hums, hands still sudsy from the sink. “Is there any other family we may have to tell?” 

“My older brother, Shermie. But he’s in Cali not Jersey like my ma.” He hums. “Older than me, don’t know him as well. But he is closer.” 

“And will he be able to tell?” She asks. “That you’re not Stanford?” 

“Nah.” He sighs. “He’s got a wife though, and a kid from what I remember. A baby girl, probably about ten now.” 

“Oh my god, so you’re an uncle?” She laughs, a smile splitting her face once more. 

“Ya doll, have been since I was 18. Remember meeting her, but pretty soon after I hit the road.” 

He had been fond of her, from what he could remember. The baby girl had rarely left the crook of his doting mother’s arms, but when it came to be his turn to hold her he enjoyed the warmth and weight of her. And her gummy smile at his continued insistence. He still remembers her tiny hands, fisted around one of his fingers. She had been small, smaller than he had imagined babies could be. He bet she was still small, it felt hard to imagine her as more than a swaddle in the swell of his arms now. 

Silence breaks between them again. “Well for what it’s worth I think you’d be a great uncle, if you could have been closer to her that is.” She hums, moving back to the sink to wash some more dishes. Her hair curved around her soft face, beautiful in her usual careless way.

Maybe he would have been. 

June, 1984

They had started a tradition in their home. A young tradition, but she figured it still was one since they had promised to go about their day the same way as they had the previous year. Except this time they had thought to prepare. 

The town they resided in was odd for sure and had an affinity for the unexplained and perhaps more creepy pursuits. The town had a tradition of its own in which they held a Halloween event twice a year, Summerween they called it. 

Not that they had known of it their first year residing in the shack, but it was quite the surprise to open the door to trick-or-treaters in mid-June. The children had unknowingly interrupted Stan's attempt to teach her how to play poker. Unfortunately for the children, they didn’t have any candy on hand for them that year. Without anything to give them, the kids retaliated by tee-peeing their yard that same night. 

She had found it only slightly annoying, having to clean it up the next morning. But it quickly fell into amusement, watching Stan stomp and curse while pulling toilet paper from bushes and trees. He didn’t enjoy a prank that was not his own. And he wouldn’t be caught unaware the next year. 

Which was why they had wandered around town that last week, looking for supplies to decorate their porch and getting last-minute off-brand candy. She had scoffed at the shitty candy they had bought but figured it was more or less all they could afford. She had eyed up the bigger bags of nicer candy, chocolate had always been a weakness of hers. 

Stan had also bought what he called “Scary Stan” supplies. Silly string, odd meats, and fake blood found its way into their shopping cart. Along with supplies for caramel apples upon her insistence. 

They had made a night of it, decorating their porch with fake spider webs and the town's traditional carved watermelon jack-o-lanterns. She had gone ahead in making caramel apples also, bagging them up as she went for the children. Perhaps it would make up for the shitty candy. 

In keeping with tradition, Stan thought to continue their poker night as they had been doing the previous Summerween. So their night was spent in an identical fashion almost, with detailed explanations of correct poker etiquette from Stan with interrupted rushing to and from the door to give awaiting kids off-brand chocolate and homemade caramel apples. Except they sat across from each other in costume now. She had been amused when he had insisted on them being matching, he had flushed in embarrassment in the store that week, pleading his case after his initial insistence. Like it was only natural that they would match. She barely fought it, something odd aching in her chest at his rather sweet insistence.

“Come on! It’s a good idea!” 

“What are we Stan, twelve?” 

“No, we're married. Just as embarrassing.” He had said flippantly, his ears red in a flush as he shoved two capes into the shopping cart along with everything else. 

Which is how they ended up here tonight, sitting across from each other in the dim kitchen light, both dressed as a gaudy vampire couple while Stan explained for the fourth time the probability of getting a royal flush. Her feet propped up on his lap, like always. He had bent down to grab them, folding them into the curve of him. 

He had tried not to stare too long when she came down the stairs earlier, her matching velvet red cape and shitty plastic vampire teeth sat oddly in her mouth. But it was one of the first times she had done her makeup like that, all dark and creased around her enchanting eyes. And the first time he had ever seen that black shirt, which had a surprisingly low cut. All the more distracting. 

This is why he was stumbling through explaining what a royal flush was for the fourth time, and probably why she was looking all confused at him like that also. 

“Okay doll, let’s run through this a couple of times, then we’ll put in some real steaks here.” 

“Stan we are dead broke we are not gambling money tonight. You’d rob me blind!” 

“Shush!” He insisted, smiling across from her. “Just a couple rounds, I’ll show you some good hands and we’ll go from there, okay?” 

They were interrupted interspersedly from time to time during their practice rounds, Stan usually being the one to race out to the porch first, in hopes of scaring whatever little kid dared knock on their porch door. 

Of course, if the child was too young he’d call for her. She had put up a fight with him about scaring kids that were younger than ten tonight. Which he had been glum about until he watched her with them. 

She’d gush at the doorway, complimenting costumes and handing out her caramel apples she had slaved away over. She had this certain smile too, and silently in the back of his mind he thanked any little kid who knocked on their door that night because she looked particularly enchanting when she was kneeling down talking to them. Like she was always meant to be doing that. 

Anyone over ten was free for the taking though, and he took particular pride in scaring any poor sap who was old enough in her eyes. The fake blood in particular came in handy, and she would laugh when he’d routinely come back from the porch door slathered in it. She silently thanked those kids tonight, because he seemed to be particularly enchanting when he laughed like that. Like he was always meant to be this carefree. 

The poker games practice rounds were over though. And he had a particular surprise just for her. 

“Ta-Da!” He said, while pulling out a bag of candy from the very top cabinet she could never reach in the kitchen. 

“Oh my god, is that chocolate!” She gasped again, reaching for the bag. “Name-brand chocolate! Awe, you shouldn’t have Stan.” She encased it in her arms, hugging it like a stuffy. It was the bag she had been eyeing up in the grocery store not even a week ago.

“Ah-ah!” He moved to grab the bag back. “This is what we are betting with tonight, doll.” Candy back in his hands, he moved back to his seat. Opening the bag to evenly disperse the individually wrapped candy between the two of them. 

“How’d you even get that bag, Stan, we can barely afford everything else we bought.” 

“You don’t wanna know, hun.” He said, shuffling her candy pile in front of her. Okay, so he had stolen it, so what? He hadn’t called her “hun” in a while though. Distracting. 

He almost never called her that sickeningly sweet name now, something she thought about far too often for her good. She missed that term of endearment in particular for some reason. But perhaps Stan found it to be too domestic, too personal for what both resided between them now. Perhaps it reminded him of her mistake, of her tying herself to him for the foreseeable future. Her heart did something odd though, when he would call her that. She usually made note of it when he did call her “hun” now. Because it was so rare to hear it, and she hesitated to ask why. It would slip out of him in odd moments, moments he would catch himself unaware and relaxed around her. But it always made him flush now, too. 

The game followed similarly, his flushing smirk distracting her from her hand on more than one occasion. He was so charmingly confident when he was playing games, so competitive. She tried to shake it off, the way he looked like this. She wanted to play with him, too. 

“You’re full of shit doll.” 

“No!” She gasps, suddenly a good actress. “My hand is just that good bucko! I raised it by too cluster bars, are you gonna meet or fold sir?” She hummed, smiling at him over her hand of cards. 

This was probably the only time she was damn good at lying, he conceded. She liked to play it up, waving her hands and laughing everything off. She was pretty good at playing off a hand that had absolutely nothing in it. But he had memorized her tell long ago, memorized her face just the same. She looked the same every night, teasing him across this kitchen table over dinner. Her brow upturned just a little, her cheeks flushed. That was the look, her look. She had nothing in her hand. 

But he was wiping the floor with her. 

He hums, hand over his lips. “I guess I fold then.” He sets his cards down, pushing his stack of candy back towards her.  

“Yes!” She jumps up, reaching across to swipe his candy into her pile. An elated smile on her face as she dances in her seat. The kitchen light making shadows on her face, the sun having finally gone down to alleviate some of the June heat. She stops mid-dance, a realization blooming over her face. “Wait a minute.” 

“Hmmmm?” He says, munching on one of his candies. 

“I know for a fact you can count cards, Stan!” Her finger pointed accusingly at her. “That’s why they won’t let you back in Nashville. You should legitimately win every round, and I know that for a fact!” 

He leans back in his kitchen chair, laughing in his low gravelly voice. “Perhaps?” He questions, hands held up in guilt. 

“Gahh!” She yells, reaching across the table and the stacks of candy to throw a fist at his shoulder. “I’ll get you for real one day.” 

“You’re smart hun, I know you will.” That flush across his face. 

“You’re smart too though.” She says, stating what she knows to be true. He is smart, he proves it to her every day. He just would never actually take the compliment, something he figured was a lie. He’d never been called smart in his life before her. He’d let her lie about this one thing though. His head hung off the back of his chair. His Doc’ was a terrible liar, though. 

“Nah!” He says flippantly, hand waving away her truth. “Let’s watch a movie!” Jumping from his seat, scooping up her pile and his pile of chocolates, and racing to the T.V. They’d play again the next year, and he’d let her win again in hopes it would make her just as happy as she just was. And maybe then she’d believed she’d won and he’d believe he was smart enough to be out-witted by the likes of her. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” She inquires, head popping back into the living room. 

“No no, come here!” Waving her in, so she can plop down next to him on the floor. Candy piled high in between the both of them. A mischievous grin sneaks up on his face, hand already reaching for the movie she’d hate. She was terrified of zombies, for some reason. Something he takes advantage of routinely. Anything to have her curled up next to him, her heat seeping into his side as his hand made a home on the back of her neck. Like usual, like always. Something that still made him feel sickly sweet, her flippant affection for him. It must be nothing for her, to be this close to him.

“Scary movie?” 

She nods, mouth full of chocolate and shirt dangerously low. Her cape piled around her, and her eyes dark as she grins at him. Distracting. 

October, 1984

They had hit a metaphorical dead end when it came to the portal. Something they both feared voicing between the two of them. 

It was hard, almost impossible, to reverse engineer the plans drawn out in the one journal they had on hand. She knew there had to be two more out there, hidden in the woods. A homage to the three corners of the portal that she stared at day in and out. Stanford was like that in a way, flippantly sentimental about the oddest thing. 

Her old friend more than likely buried the other two journals somewhere on the property. Unfortunately for them both they did not know where the property line began and ended, but she more or less figured it was a lot of land to cover. Stan had backed up this claim, explaining to her that first night that Stanford had wanted him to take this first journal, take it with him to the ends of the earth. In hopes that the portal his brother had created couldn’t be replicated. Something they had both dared to do now and something they did not discuss in great lengths either. 

He had put them away in his haste, she figured. He was never one to half-ass anything really, but with the way Stan had described his brother that night he disappeared into the portal, she figured he was not necessarily himself. Not himself, actually at all. She had contemplated it a lot, the fear of otherworldly possession. But had a hard time believing Stanford would let anything into something as sacred as he believed his mind to be. He didn’t even let her up there. 

But the way he described his odd relationship with an entity that happened to be a shape was… distracting. It constantly had her flipping back and forth in the journal, looking for clues as to what Ford was doing in relation to an otherworldly being. He couldn’t help his own curiosity she figured, something she had never blamed him for except for now. Something she cursed him for, now. 

So they had both agreed to move in silence when it came to passing into the tree line of the property. She had more than hinted at their need for caution in communicating with whatever the hell Ford had previously encountered. Stan and Ford both considered themselves adventurers in their own right, which would be admirable if one of them wasn't missing from their current plane of existence. 

They had headed out together one October day, bundled up, and hoping to find signs of Ford on their property line. Hoping to find one of the journals, and nothing else. 

His red coat with a new patch was swung over his shoulders, as she had whined in the doorway that morning. She much preferred his things to her own nowadays. Much preferred to be swallowed by his shirts and jackets, not that he would ever comment. There was just more warmth to his things than her own now, and she preferred the imprint he left on the couch to her own in these colder months. Stealing his spot when he would up and leave for a new drink, laughing when he would come back to claim it. Stealing that imprint of him was her only joy, because it made him laugh and flush differently when she got close now. The closest he had allowed in months, the imprints and loose shirts he’d leave behind. Made something behind her chest ache thinking about it.

Felt slightly disjointed in their trek through the forest now, the thought of the unknown just beyond them both. And no warmth of his jacket to cool the part of her that achingly worried for him now.

But of course, they both had weighed the probability of them encountering some creatures that Ford had sighted in his journal, but she feared encountering something that was not listed in the specific one they had in their possession. Something out in the borders of their home, that they had no knowledge of. 

He was swearing with every step through the underbrush ahead of her, his hand held behind him in case she would need it when trekking through the uneven forest floor. His head held down as he stomped a path into the fallen leaves for her. Her head held up, looking for signs of their long-gone friend somewhere between the trees. 

“Fuck!” She swears, tripping over fallen branches. He reaches back, catching her with the length of his outstretched arm. The first time he had reached for her since he bent to fold her legs across his lap this morning. He felt far away. He was flushed though, worked up with the long trek they both had made. Some odd miles between them and their home now. 

He grunts, lifting her back to her feet with ease. Moving to wipe dead leaves and twigs from her hiking pants unconsciously.

“Should we map this out doll?” 

“Mhm.” She nods, as he reaches back into their shared backpack he had been carrying. Taking out a property map and a compass. He had thought to bring the map, commenting on how they could mark down when they would see odd things throughout the forest, and so they could track where they had already been. She had thought to bring the compass, simply to find their way home. 

She looks down at the unfolded map now held up in his hands, stepping to bend down under his arm, residing in front of his expansive chest and between his outstretched arms. He was warm, she noted, a part of her cooling. 

“Sooooo… I think I saw something around here.” She moved her pencil up, marking along their predetermined path where she thought she had seen tree carvings. She took a step back, running into his chest. Trying to get closer to him, before he would inevitably leave. “I believe we are about 1.5 to 2 miles out from the shack?” She questions, tilting her head back to look at him. 

He grunts, flushed by her proximity. Her back to his chest, he noted how warm she was when she was this close. Her eyes shining up at him in question. She shouldn’t be this close. 

“Mmm, feels like we’ve been walkin’ longer than that.” 

“You may be right.” She hums, her pencil held in her mouth now. “Should we retrace our steps? Get a better estimate? And look at that carving I saw?” 

“Whatever you say, boss.” He grunts, trying to move his eyes away from her. 

“Alright!” She steps back from him, suddenly cold. Ducking beneath his arm and stepping away from him as he begins to fold back up the map. She’d savor whatever he allowed. “Then we’ll be home in time for lunch.” She comments. 

“Can we have those fancy deli sammiches?” 

“Mmmm, sounds good to me.” She shrugs, letting him lead the way back to their home. Trying to find oddities in the tree line, but getting distracted by his shoulders the entirety of the way home. Missing that imprint of him along her back already.

[juliasturnz]

“The little things”

Chris x y/n

🜸 - Sorry for the small amount of posting🥹

★ - summary:

A late night walk with your boyfriend is got to be the best thing right?

༆ - warnings!:

Kissing and pet names (baby, my love (ml) babe, bae) nothing more ☺︎︎

✫彡 - writers note!:

Sorry for not writing I’ve been struggling mentally a lot so I’m trying to keep up, sorry again🩷

★ -

your laying down with Chris in his just perfectly comfy bed, the soft blanket touching your skin, his head and silky soft hair on your shoulder. But your mind has been keeping you up, everything you could think about right now is a late night walk to just clear your head, to feel the cold night air hitting your skin.

You can���t stop thinking about going outside holding hands with Chris and just yap with each other, you feel bad asking to go for a little walk since he’s laying on your shoulder in a (what it seems like) deep sleep.

The urge is getting bigger and bigger and you finally have the courage to shake his shoulder a little bit. ‘Chris baby?’ ‘Hm? whatsup?’ His voice is raspy and his eyes are still shut, not that you can see much but your at least think so. ‘Can we go for a little walk, my mind has been racing.’ ‘Mhm for sure.’ His head isn’t on your shoulder anymore and you flick on a night stand light. His eyebrows furrow and so do yours, even though it a warm color it’s still very bright since you and Chris aren’t used to the brightness. ‘You can put on some of my clothes, pick whatever you’d like.’ You turn around to see him fully sitting up in his bed, with surprisingly his eyes wide open. ‘Thank you baby and I will.’ You give him a smile back and give him a little peck on his cheek. ‘Wait we should pick each other’s outfits.’ His ideas were the best, and also hard to deny. ‘That’s a great idea!’ Your face lights up by the once again creative idea.

When he’s done picking your outfit and you his, you give each other the pieces of clothing and get dressed. You are wearing his blue fresh love hoodie with a pair of way to big black sweatpants, what makes him giggle when you put it on. And he’s wearing also a black pair of sweatpants with a grey zip-up hoodie. (Yes the grey zip-up hoodie🤭) ‘you look adorable.’ Chris is proudly scanning your outfit and so do you ‘you also look very handsome.’ Chris does a little spin what makes you laugh. ‘I love your smile ml,’ he comes up to and give you a little kiss on your lips. ‘I love yours too Chris.’ He’s not far away from you what makes you a bit nervous, ‘come on, you got to do a little spin for me too!’ His face lightens up while he talks, he sticks out his finger and while you hold it you spin around. ‘Yaaay you look gorgeous!’ You giggle at his excitement not only in his voice but also clearly in his face.

‘Ew I need to brush my teeth, my breaths stinks.’ ‘Yeah me too.’ You and Chris walk up to the bathroom and brush your teeth. You guys are trying to talk but talking while brushing your teeth isn’t the best option. You and Chris keep laughing at each other trying to say words or sentences while brushing your teeth.

When you and Chris finally reach the point where you are on your way to outside, he opens his hands to give you a sign that he wants to hold hands. You lock your hand into his while he gives you a warm smile, you both reach the front door and Chris opens it and the perfectly cold midnight breeze hit your body.

You and Chris walk into the darkness of this beautiful night. ‘I love this so much.’ ‘I’m so glad you woke me up, I didn’t knew I needed this.’ Chris looks around into the darkness from the streets around him. It’s quiet, but a peaceful quiet. You and Chris could just hold hands walk around and say nothing, you were made for each other.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

hey gorgeous, you wouldn’t mind liking this post would youuu?? Comment if you wanna be tagged, or js lmk what you think about this.🩷

again I’m sorry for this lack of posting been struggling a lot lately and still wanted to post a bit☻︎, so there it is a short story I’d love to experience 😔😔

Tags:

@042502 @chrisslut333 @chrissslut @chris-slut @chrissv4mp @chrisshotdog @pepsiboyy @pepsiluvr0209 @hollandsangel @hoeformatt @hoesformatt-deactivated20240729 @hopefuljellyfishcollection @mattsfavbitchhh @mattstattos @mattslittleprincess @mattsturnswife @mattsgf @sturnzsblog @sturnzsun @sturnzwrld @sturnzyolo @sturnzluv @sturnslesbo @sturnslcver @sturnsdoll @sturnsbaby @sturnsblunt @sturnioloshacker @sturniolonmc @sturniololoverr @monroesturnns

[pinkberrytea]

✨Writing Interview Tag Game✨

Eeee tysm for the tag @nyx-knox and @honeybee-bard! 🥹🙌❣️

When did you start writing?

I used to write fanfiction when I was 13 years old, but as an adult, this is actually my first time dabbling in creative writing! I released my first work back in April, crazy to think it’s been barely four months since I started!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Horror and mystery are actually my favorite genres, though I'm not sure I'd be able to pull either off? I should give it a go one day, maybe!

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

To be honest any comparisons at all would make me plenty happy since I barely consider myself a writer 😅 There are some people in the fandom who are endless sources of inspiration for me though, all authors in my recs list and ao3 bookmarks, for starters.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

No BG3 merch sadly, yet!

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Just daydreaming honestly. Also listening to music helps plenty! Researching lore and brainstorming ideas with friends too. But mostly just daydreaming!

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Hurt and comfort, and also angst. Lots of it, for some reason. It does surprise me how angsty all my writing ends up coming across, but I try to balance it out with some melodramatic fluff, I guess? I do want to try my hand at some less serious/more lighthearted themes eventually though, branch out a little!

What is your reason for writing?

Coping, mostly. Also as a sort of therapy, to sort out my feelings about themes that are important to me and that I’ve been processing through media. And no less relevant, simply as a self-indulgent outlet! I write what I myself would like to read.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Every single comment is incredibly motivating for me, but of course, I do twirl my hair and kick my feet whenever someone tells me about which passages they liked the best and how they specifically felt about a certain scene. Also, whenever people pick up on a detail I was sure would go by unnoticed!

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I want my readers to think of me as a friend, as someone who is always accessible and up for talking about writing, be it mine or just in general!

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Oh, this is a toughie. I have a very flowery and verbose style, though I’m not sure that’s a strength? I guess it could be, depending on your preferences. It’s a bit of a double-edged sword, really.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I don’t think highly of it from a technical standpoint, but I do pour my heart and soul into every single piece, and that makes them all special to me.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

I can sincerely say I write mostly for myself, otherwise I wouldn’t even be able to write anything at all because I don’t think I could live up to anyone’s expectations. Though of course, the feedback I receive on a piece may in fact influence whether I feel inspired to expand on it or just move on to something new. Even if I’m typically my own main target audience, comments are always greatly appreciated!

No pressure tags ✨ @locallegume, @judasiskariot, @inkymoonbunny, @starryjuicebox and @kalmiaphlox!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Twenty questions for fic writers

Thank you @homicidal-slvt for the tag. Tagging @ceilidho @peachesofteal @neoarchipelago @tinypandacakes & @gremlingottoosilly (no pressure folks!)

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

15. Yikes.

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

361,563. Double yikes!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Call of Duty only... I think I might be mentally ill

4. Top five by kudos.

DOG, Just Friends, Man-sized, Refugee, Fatum Nos Iungebit

5. Do you respond to comments?

I used to but I've been so bad at it lately that I decided that if I can't get to every single one I shouldn't reply to anyone at all T.T But I see them all and cherish them dearly!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Just friends for sure

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think it's a tie between Christian Woman and Love is a Heavy Weapon :)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I used to get hate for tagging all of my fics in x reader as a default when some of them included a more fleshed out OC. Understandable perhaps!

9. Do you write smut?

Honey it's all I write these days

10. Craziest crossover.

I'm a purist and don't do crossovers :/

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I sure hope not!!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Hope not (meaning if the fic also gets shared without permission)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and honestly I don't know how this even works :') But I like the idea!

14. All time favorite ship?

Maybeeee Loki x Jane Foster. Gosh, I don't know. I mainly write/read reader inserts these days

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Gromsko thingy I said I'd write this time last year

16. What are your writing strengths?

Inner dialogue. Subtle details when it comes to historical/mythical au's. I'm pretty good at conveying yearning and other strong emotions, perhaps?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Eloquent prose & poetry. I can do it once in a blue moon but not constantly, it somehow destroys my brain cells & saps me of my creative energy

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

If only I could speak German fluently...

19. First fandom you wrote in?

Mortal Kombat... my cringeworthy beloved 💖

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Maybe Fatum. It has Romans, slow burn and König in it 🥰

[johnica-weeks]

Johnica Week 2024

When is the event? 📆

This year's Johnica Week will start on Thursday 18th January and end on Sunday 21st January! For the first time the event will START on their wedding anniversary and continue throughout the weekend 🥰 But as always, don't worry if you're late! You can keep sending your contributions after the last day, these are simply indicative days to gather all together 💕

Where? 🔎

Here on Tumblr, on AO3 and also on Instagram for visual artists!

💚 Use the tag #JohnicaWeek2024 in your entries here and on Instagram!

📚 > Here is the AO3 COLLECTION where to post your fics! <

💚 Tag @eileen-crys and/or @johnica-weeks in your works so I can read, see and share them!

📚 At the end of the event I’ll make a Tumblr masterlist with all the works!

2020 Masterlist | 2021 Masterlist | 2022 Masterlist | 2023 Masterlist

The Theme 🎁

The 49th Wedding Anniversary comes soon before the huge milestone of the 50 years together, and it's usually represented by various symbols that I added to the prompts: Zircon, Orchids, the color Purple, and luxurious gifts. The main theme of this year's event is GIFTS, the act of giving the partner something material or abstract as an act of selflessness, that can have various meanings and various reactions.

Like all the prompts, it’s up to you to follow the theme or not, consider it just as a general theme that you could build your entries around. I chose some prompts that might fit this theme, that are about gifts as physical objects or as ideas for situations or alternative worldbuildings.

How? 🖼

You're encouraged to join with your preferred creative media or challenge yourself with something new! Fanfictions, drawings, comics, poetry, collages and photo edits, moodboards, anything you like! More in the RULES below.

Like all Ship Weeks, this is a fandom event to share love and creativity related to a particular couple, so be sure to engage with the entries and support all the artists and writers that chose to join! Reblog, leave likes/kudos and comment on the artworks to keep the fandom alive! 💜💖💕💜💖💕

Day 1 • 18 January (Anniversary!)

Flowers: Orchids are symbols of love, beauty, refinement, fertility, strength and resilience, and mature charm.

Surprise gift!

Handmade by the other

Young, poor and happy together

"I've got a loving wife and a couple of kids at home, that'll do me!"

Day 2 • 19 January

The color: Purple can evoke spirituality, mystery, royalty, imagination, compassion, fantasy, wisdom, creativity and sensitivity.

A kinky gift 😏

Concert tickets

Radio interview

“When you love something, you protect it with your entire life. Right now, my guts tell me to do the same.”

Day 3 • 20 January

Gemstone: Zircon zircon is a talisman of travelers. They count on it to lead to a shelter and show the right way. Plus, it is able to protect from injuries. Women used the gem to ease childbirth, drive away evil spirits, enhance health, get wisdom, and attract good luck.

Rejecting a gift

Torn between options

Dreaming and daydreaming

"You remembered something I’d mentioned a million years ago!"

Day 4 • 21 January

Celebration: Luxury the 49th wedding anniversary is the step right before the big 50, also known as the Golden wedding. All the symbols represent the wealth of experience a couple has after being married for nearly five decades. Two people who are willing to work together and compromise and do all the things that make a marriage successful deserve to celebrate with a bit of Luxury.

Matching pyjamas

Spa experience / Pampering one another

Knowing each other like an open book

"Oh my, this must have been expensive!" "Nothing is expensive enough for you, my love."

What can you do? ✒

You can join with fanfics, edits and moodboards, drawings of all kinds and if you want to sing or play an instrument please feel free to!

The requirements are:

John and Veronica Deacon as the main pairing;

Your love and creativity! 🥰

You can write/draw:

Fics with and without accurate settings and timelines;

Alternative Universes (AU) of any kind and genre, mixed or not with the prompts (ex. Fem!John AU + coffee shop, A/B/O AU + Superpowers);

“What if"s;

Genderswap/genderbending of any kind;

Other Queen members, friends, pairings, family, poly ships (that have to involve both John and Veronica!), OCs, etc…

Fluff, angst, crack, hurt/comfort, action, mystery, sexy times… anything you fancy!

🔥 NSFW is allowed with PROPER TAGS! IMPORTANT note: please interact with NSFW only if you’re +18! 🔞

… and more! If you’re unsure feel free to ask!

We’re here to celebrate John and Veronica Deacon, not to create drama or fights nor to disrespect their privacy. So please be considered about your entries and comments and always try to be respectful to John, to Veronica, to their family and friends, to the people who ship them or ship other couples and to your audience.

HOW to post? 🤔

You can post your entries here on Tumblr, on AO3 and on Instagram, using the hashtag #JohnicaWeek2024 and tagging me.

If you prefer, you can post anonymously on AO3, HERE is an easy guide on how to do it!

If you’re on Tumblr and want to post a fic anonymously please send me a DM and I’ll post it on @johnica-weeks on your behalf, crediting it as Anonymous author! I will also post fics from Anon authors posted on AO3 here on tumblr on Anon's behalf.

🔥 TAG your work APPROPRIATELY! This includes all potential triggers and smut. On Tumblr you can include the appropriate warnings at the top of the fic followed by a "keep reading” cut (you can add it in desktop version AND on mobile by writing :readmore: in a new line!) Also be sure to tag the rating of your fic, the genre and the themes of your story, enough to help the readers!

✨ If you’re still unsure, HERE’s a useful guide on how to tag your works!

As a reader... 📖

If you’re a fan of John, of Johnica or simply like to read fanfictions, positive interactions are always much welcomed! Support the authors by leaving likes, a comment (even a little one!) and sharing their work. On AO3 you don’t need an account to leave Kudos and Comments! (Unless the author has willingly prevented guests to comment). To leave a comment on AO3 you simply have to choose a temporary mail and set your email to get a notification for an eventual reply.

If a work is not tagged appropriately, you can reach out to me via DM and I’ll warn the author. If anything makes you uncomfortable, simply close the work! Do not engage by leaving nasty comments or messaging the author!

🔥 IMPORTANT!!! 🔥

During the event, if any of you/your entries gets hateful comments or messages towards you, your entries, the Johnica ship, the event or other creators, please DELETE the hateful comment/message right away with no interactions and let me know! This is no place for haters, just for creativity and love. If you see a hateful comment on other works do not engage, instead leave a positive comment to the same work and support the author! 💜

Realistic or not, remember that fanfictions are, by definition, FICTIONAL and not meant to be a documentary! There are lots of things we don’t know about John and Veronica’s private lives and don’t want to go in too deeply, gossip or speculate about them, so feel free to fly with your fantasy and let your creativity flow! 😊💖 Most of all… have fun, respect each other and support each other’s works!

Dividers and graphics by @firefly-graphics and @johnica-weeks. As always for any info and question feel free to send an ask or a DM!

[not-poignant]

Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? with the understanding that no advice is universal of course

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

So I have a ton of stuff in the Pia on Writing tag that goes into a lot of detail but (with the caveat to ignore anything that doesn't work for you):

Learn to love your mistakes, because you must make a lot of them to get good at writing, so if you hold back because you're worried about your writing being bad, your shooting yourself in the foot. Your writing HAS to be bad for it to get better. Or: You need manure/shit (bad writing) to grow a really good garden (good writing). You want a good garden? Start shoveling the shit in, lol.

Clever marketing won't solve not putting the hours in to hone your craft.

In fanfiction, make sure it's fun. That doesn't mean it can't be hard sometimes, that you can't dread editing sometimes or drafting, that you can't have sadder times, but make sure that the overall net is always positive. Otherwise, take a break.

In professional writing, learn how to stop waiting for inspiration to strike, and learn to turn up on that dance floor on your own. Inspiration is a fickle dance partner, it often won't turn up unless you develop the discipline to turn up first.

Sometimes the writing you absolutely slog through that feels stilted and bad is some of your best writing. Just because it feels clunky when you're writing, doesn't mean it reads clunky. Just because it feels smooth when you're writing, doesn't mean it reads smooth. Your emotional state at the time of writing does not determine the quality of writing. Feeling good while you're writing =/= good writing. Likewise feeling bad while writing =/= bad writing.

You do not need a daily habit to be good at writing. Develop one if you want one, but personally I don't have one and I'm super happy that way. Take your weekends, have your leisure time, goddamn it, don't be a terrible boss to yourself.

Writing can be both lonely and exhausting - make some non-douchey writer friends (or artist or creative friends), and make sure you take breaks. Because writing is so cerebral, you'd be surprised how much physical activity can help with recovery, like stretching, gentle walks, workouts, etc.

Eat brain food. Snacking during writing is actually normal. I have nuts on hand for protein boosts, but I'll also eat chocolate or snack on quick energy boosts.

Stay hydrated.

Ignore any writing advice that goes 'you must do this in order to be a writer' or 'you have to do this one thing to be successful.' They're wrong. There is no one-true-path in writing with the exception that you do have to write in order to like...be a writer, imho.

You are going to want to compare yourself to others, but be very aware of who you're comparing yourself to. If you're new, why are you comparing yourself to someone with 10-20 years of experience? If you're disabled and fatigued, why are you comparing yourself to able-bodied writers? Stop competing with people outside of your metaphorical weight class, they're not your competition. I'm not going to tell you not to compare yourself to others, but be very careful of how you compare yourself to others. I've had new writers be like 'I could never do your wordcounts (so I'm not as good of a writer)' and like, no friend, neither could I 10 years ago. This is literally a decade of hard work and practice. Some skills really just come with time. (Also most writers are more successful after writing less words than me so y'know lol).

If you get shitty comments/critiques, remind yourself that if you wouldn't take personal advice from a complete stranger like this (and you wouldn't), then their shitty comments/critiques aren't worth your time either.

On AO3, the delete, block, moderate comments function and mute buttons are all free. USE THEM. Don't bother giving haters airtime on your fics. Elsewhere on the internet, as much as you can, try and ignore review sites. Like seriously.

Learn your writing style. Practice planning, plantsing and pantsing! Practice writing one thing or more than one thing at a time. Practice different genres. You might be surprised at what fits you as a person! Think of it like being a musician, you're not trying to be a band that already exists, you're trying to be your band and you're trying to find your sound.

You're probably very good at noticing your weaknesses, get good at noticing your strengths, and use those to shore up the places where you're still building skills.

Do writing prompts. I cannot stress this enough, but learn how to write settings. Describe the dialogue of a friend. Write a character dossier on a television character. Practice worldbuilding, practice character building.

Fill the well. Read broadly across many genres. Watch many different types of media. Listen to many audiobooks. The best way to not sound derivative of a particular order is to saturate yourself with inspiration from hundreds of different places.

That's probably enough! dklsjfdas

~

From this meme!

[ask-katima]

Welcome to the Master Post of Katima’s Ask Blog!

Warning….. it’s long-/SRS

Projects: Small Companion (on going), Katima comic (Discontinued)

Lucas/Owner: Example of text.

Hello! I am the mod of this ask blog and my oc, Katima! I’ll be mostly talking in the updates, but you might find Katima talking here too, take her words with a bit of salt, but she is like the owner of this blog, since asks are for her!

If you’d like to ask ME something, please make sure to make it clear in your ask, since I’m not a mind reader. I’m also autistic and have ADHD so I might not catch simple clues, you have to write it in bold red letters for me ;p/silly.

Please use He/It/Void pronouns on me! Any other pronouns aren’t really welcomed… so if you use they, I won’t really like it.

I’m comfortable with mostly any topics! However the NSFW or very graphic violence isn’t for me.. I’d rather not see that AT ALL! Sure, I enjoy some romance and a bit of angst, but I’m not that over the top.

Also I’m a silly guy who can’t tell tones, so please use tone tags with me, I’m really timid if I take your comment/words as pretty mad/degrading… so please make it clear to me that you aren’t..

Katima: example of text

(Huge document on her alone)

(Huge document on the whole AU where she comes from.)

(I also use the indented feature for her.)

Heyo! I’m the creation of Lucases wiiiide imagination… yeah I’m self aware…. To the point you’d be probably thinking I’m another human using the internet from your “earth” or something…. But in reality, I just know too much, research and am self reserved about stuff.

My creator just decided that, “Fuck it! If Ink can speak/hear the creators then Katima can hear/speak to me!” Soo, grumble to him bout that I guess, hah.. makes sure to insult him when you do so…./hj.

All asks are assigned to me automatically, if you’d like to ask Lucas make it clear, like he said on the top.

You can use any pronouns on me except “it”… I know I’m just an oc or whatever…. But I still have feelings and I hate being treated as an object/referred to one.

I have the same preference as Lucas.

Please use tone tags with me too, since I’m being puppeteered by Lucas it means that I, too am unable to read tone… but I am able to… if Lucas could-

Rules of the blog, asks and stuff.

1. No NSFW, at all! It can be romantic but… keep it classy and up to code.

1.b No heavy gore!! It can have some injuries nd mention of violence, but keep it to a minimum…

2. Since rule 1 is for roleplaying purposes, asks can have roleplaying text! If you’d like to continue the roleplay beyond the ask, please tell me via a comment or a private message on Tumblr. I’d appreciate that!

3. No slurs. That’s it. Nothing more to say, as soon as you write it and post that, I’m blocking you. And there will be no way out.

4. Fanart is always welcome! I’m not one to say no to some creativity! With that aid, any creative project present with any of my characters I’ll say yes to. You don’t even have to ask. As far as roleplaying goes… make sure you red EVERYTHING I have on Katima, and please make sure not to stray away too far from how she’s represented. Otherwise you’re free to roleplay as her to your hearts content! (And if they ask you who the creator is, make sure to link this blog/post.)

5. Please use common sense and proper grammar. I know it can be hard wording sometimes, you don’t have to send your ask RIGHT AWAY! As if in a race, you can take your sweet ol’ time writing it to perfection! Or even better, you don’t have to send it today! It can be tomorrow when you’re feeling better or something.

6. Be respectful of my time and availability. I won’t respond right away sometimes, either I’m too tired and aware of how bad I would fumble, drawing, roleplaying or sleeping. Please be respectful of this. (I am available from 9 am to 3 am mostly, yes, it’s the whole day. However I live in Europe Slovakia so we have to count on that. GMT + 2.)

7. I’m not a master in anything I’m doing 😅, so if there are any mistakes anywhere or imperfections, please either tell me, give some tips or ignore it. Thank you!

8. Please don’t ask me questions that are too personal/something private. Those asks will go unanswered.

9. This isn’t a rule, mostly a notice. If I’m not feeling up to it, I’ll recycle old drawings for asks. Please don’t be offended or sad, the reason behind that will be: No ideas what to draw, not enough motivation or I simply don’t have time for it currently.

Sites & socials you can find me on:

Discord: lucasisverycool01 •server•

Instagram

Artfight

Tik Tok

YouTube

Devianart

Reddit

Roblox: Sikowow_2 (nickname is Lucas)

Cookie Run Kingdom: Memekingdom001 (Hollyberry server)

Vr Chat: LucasIsVeryCool

Notion

Lucas’s Tumblr (separate content)

Fair warning that I’m not the most acrive on most sites except for here, discord and vr chat… sooo please don’t be mad I don’t recognize you commented something on one of my socials ASAP! Also my Devianart account is mostly there so I know what the artists there are up to and stuffs!

That would be it, have fun asking and observing folks!

[mamadoc]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you to for tagging me, @thisnightissparkling089 !

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

I have only written 6 fics on AO3, but I tend to write long chapters and long stories.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

313,810

Pretty good for 7 months, right?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only The Rookie. 😎

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Catch of a Lifetime

Snowed In

*Sense* You Know Me So Well

*Sense* You Know Me So Well, Too - The Sequel

The Heimlich

5. Do you respond to comments?

Every comment thread! I love interacting with people who read my stories. I think it's one of the things that makes writing fanfiction so much fun.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have a few rules in my writing. 1 - Chenford is endgame. 2 - Only happy endings. 3 - No Major Character Death!

My reading and writing affect my mood, and I read to find a little spot of joy and sunshine.

That said, my sequel series, After the Snow Melts, has a lot more angst than my other stories. Although the ending is happy, it's not a perfect resolution of the story.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The last (third) chapter of *Sense* You Know Me So Well is so amazingly sweet and fluffy that it would rot your teeth.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, no. I've had a few rude requests for me to continue a story, but that's as close as I've gotten. I'm so grateful for the people that leave kind comments on my stories.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No. I'll write 'spicy' scenes, but nothing I would consider smut or going into M or E categories.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No. I've considered it, and I've read a few that are great. But I never have.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

As far as I know, I have not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

No. But I have a few frequent commenters on Twitter/X that comment in other languages. I don't know if they read it in English or translate it, but they comment in Spanish, Portuguese, and German.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. When I first got some story ideas, I reached out to a few writers I admired to see if they would be interested in co-writing the stories with me. None of them were interested. That's when I had to break out my big girl panties and try it by myself. 😂😎 I'm glad I did. It's been such a rewarding hobby.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Chenford🥰

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have several ideas jotted down on my Notes app on my phone. I don't know how many of them will ever be fleshed out and see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmmm... I'm not sure. I feel like my writing is very descriptive and in character so that the reader can really feel like they're seeing it all play out. At least that's what I hear back from some readers. My stories are also longer, which allows the reader to disappear into that world for longer.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I still feel very new at this and lack some confidence in my writing skills. I've tried my hand at a few action scenes, but I'm not sure they come together as well as the relationship/dialogue scenes. I'm also an older Millennial, so some of the social media aspect of fanfiction and this fandom are new to me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it once. I just used Google translate to get some easy Chinese for Lucy and her mother to have a quick conversation. But I speak French and Korean, so I could potentially add that in sometime in the future. I just don't know how well that would fit into a Chenford story.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

This one. I had never done creative writing in my adult life until 7 months ago, hence my lack of confidence.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I have really loved writing Catch of a Lifetime. I feel like it's different than a lot of the stories I've read on AO3, but it still has the characters we know and love.

*Sense* You Know Me So Well is my favorite of my shorter stories, particularly chapter 2. It feels very realistic and true to what could have happened in the snow.

And chapter 2 of *Sense* You Know Me So Well, Too - The Sequel is the one I feel like draws on the deepest feelings and most genuine heart of Chenford.

Thanks, ladies! Tagging @makeitastrength and @queseraone and @girlintotv and @chenfordspiral if they're interested in talking about their writing.

[hanjsquokka]

Manaaa I hope you’re having an awesome day and—I’m here for the ask game hihi: - [ ] 7, 9, 13, 16, 22 + 24 (sorry, I couldn’t decide) 💚

hi tan 💚💚 i'm having a good day, how about you? 🫶🏼 also dw aksjsak i loved answering all of these!! ( ask game )

7. as a writer, what do you appreciate the most when someone is reading your work?

i think this is what every author loves, but i absolutely love it whenever someone gushes over tags/comments/reblogs. after reading that, my day just becomes a little more bearable and i will 100% be giggling and blushing like an idiot because you liked my silly little ideas

9. what new genres/tropes would you be open to writing/reading?

fantasy aus! i have no solid idea or plan, but i definitely want to make an skz fantasy au, preferably like ever after high au. i'm not gonna work on that now lol i have other things i should be writing once i cure this writers block 😂 but that! and a horror/apocalypse concept as well (we're not getting all of us are dead s2 anytime soon anyways 🤷‍♀️). as for tropes, i want to write marriage of convenience & sports romance! AND hanahaki trope, that is just 💔 maybe a fic with no happy ending (?) idk, the possibilities are endless but these are the ones i look forward to as of now

13. if you could choose a playlist for your stories or any fics you have read, what would it be? 

i listen to my # superbowl playlist a lot, a bunch of those songs are my faves!!

16. post a line from one of your works. 

"Hi, beautiful,” he greeted, taking your hand in his. “How was your day?” — bed chem : hjs. i was actually blushing when i wrote this line 🙈🙈 i couldn't stop imagining the scene, okay now im blushing again 😭

22. what is a line from a fanfic you have read that has stuck with you?

He was sure there would be no one else like you in this lifetime. & This is our lifetime. — the bucket list : hjs by @pearbunny . i will never stop ranting about this series, it's so 🫶🏼💔💥❤️‍🩹😫🤭 i love it sm AHHHH. the angst us on point and the plot and everything to be honest, an amazing read!!!

24. what good advice would you give for creativity blocks?

currently going through a writers block. i just hid the docs app on my phone so i wouldn't feel pressured to write anything + turned off my notifs for tumblr. i scrolled through instagram for sometime and found some books to read for the next couple of days when i'm free (instead of writing). i also started cleaning my room lol there's so much dust everywhere (i don't even get where it comes from??). basically just reseting for a while. i might write a few texts fics because those are funny (and im scared that no one's going to interact if i don't post a little 💀).

so to sum it up, i think a reset would be nice! don't open docs or any writing apps, turn off notifications that overwhelm you and take some time for yourself! do something you've been wanting to do for a while and don't stress because writing is supposed to be fun, not freaking you out. words always flow better when you're happy and willing to write 🩷

[ryiju-muunie]

You I like that [your skin]

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Bottom!Omega!Zoro Roronoa/Top!Alpha!Usopp Warnings: omega verse, oviposition, ovipositior alpha, animal/human hybrids, gender roles but make it omega verse, zoro has gender issues lowkey, self doubt, making out, anal rimming, frotting and frottage, mpreg mentions, porn with feelings Word count: 5382 DESC: Omega sexualization was prevalent in society, this was a fact. Zoro was not a cute omega; this was also a fact. It was a long shot to think Usopp would be watching videos with the term ‘knothole’ but- Zoro’s eyes widened when he saw ten videos pulled up on the search bar. OR Zoro snoops on Usopp's laptop and discovers some secrets he's been dying to uncover

NOTES: Hi! God, I don't know if this idea is too ooc or not. I wanted to do something with Zoro and him being an omega, while briefly touching on what I think the society of a/b/o could be like. Then this happened. Not very coherent but we're working with it!!! Also I didn't know but apparently Zosopp is a rare pair?? Hello?? We need more Zosopp because I'm flooding the tag with me and my filth. And the cute stuff too. Also also, someone write more hybrid one piece fics. I have no idea if its a thing [because I haven't checked] but I need it!!! I need to see more peoples ideas with what Usopp could be, or really any of the strawhats. In my hybrid AU [series on my page] I made Usopp a brown cat, but here I thought an ocelot could be cute. Zoro though, is just a tiger. I can't change that. Also also also, SOMEONE WRITE ANOTHER GYATT DAMN OMEGA VERSE OVIPOSITION FIC! The tag is only me, c'mon people! Use your creativity and make eggs come from mens holes!

Omega sexualization was prevalent in society, this was a fact.  

Zoro was not a cute omega; this was also a fact.  

The tiger hybrid had tried his fair share of being cute when he was in his twenties, trying to play up to an image he would never succeed. He tried the skirts, and he tried the bows, before he ever became as built as he was in the present. Of course, when he did, alphas told him he was hot. He was this sexy, hot, tantalizing omega who could knock their socks off. He never minded the feminine thing in his own opinion, but he hated how sexualized it was. He could never wear a skirt in public without an alpha making a comment on how breedable he looked, or how he smelt incredibly sweet [even when his pheromones ran on the savorier side].  

There was a small part of Zoro that wished Usopp wanted him to be cute. It was a small and stupid part of him that he pushed away with beer and exercising until he could barely breathe. Everyone wanted to be wanted, and he wasn’t a stranger to desire in any sense of the word. If the omega wanted something he would get up and get it, no matter how long it took him. If he wanted a nap, he’d damn well get it. So, why did he always hesitate when asking his boyfriend this question of: What if I wore a skirt this time around? 

One part of him hated, despised, the sexualization that came with skirts and socks. But the other part of him wished the person who was perverted was his angel of a boyfriend, who looked upon him with innocent and caring eyes. Was it wrong to wish your cute ocelot boyfriend was a pervert who wanted you bent over in a skirt?  

It was wrong and he knew it to even pry about his boyfriend's interests in porn, or even kink. They had, had sex loads of times, alternating on who bottomed and who topped. Zoro enjoyed a change in routine because he got off either way, and he knew Usopp would too. It was the intimacy over the position for him, although he knew his boyfriend preferred anything where he could see the one, he loved before him, slowly crumbling.  

Being together for almost six months meant they knew just about every secret there was to know, except for what porn Usopp watched. Secretly, the tiger hoped it was the perverted kind. The kind that degraded omegas in such humiliating ways, in ways he never looked at. The cat was a gentleman in every sense of the word, barely ever initiating sex if he could help it and making sure Zoro was comfortable over all else. It was so frustrating and utterly annoying when he wanted to be used like a sex doll, and he couldn’t even get that. Of course, the obvious solution was to ask, but that was weird! How do you go about asking your boyfriend to disregard you and fuck you like a whore? 

It was wrong to pry about his boyfriend's porn interests, so he didn’t. No, instead he checked his search history. He knew the damned alpha would be out late at a work function, something with engineering [he didn’t care to ask], so he had time to snoop. And he knew that damned alpha never used a private tab, instead opting to keep everything on the main browser so he could simply type in one word and access the world at his fingertips.  

Opening the laptop and putting in the password [godsopp69], he was face to face with the last tab his boyfriend had opened. It was an article about something mechanical, but if it wasn’t porn Zoro wasn’t interested in it. He clicked into a separate tab and pressed his fingers to the keys, typing out ‘omega’. The male's brow furrowed when nothing popped up, but one article on omega heats. It was thoughtful, but not what he was caring for. If nothing came up with omega, maybe a more derogatory term would pull something up. It was a long shot to think Usopp would be watching videos with the term ‘knothole’ but- 

Zoro’s eyes widened when he saw ten videos pulled up on the search bar, all from varying sites with varying levels of dirty in the name. They were basic things, but one caught his eye. He clicked on the search and was brought to a dodgy website, with a video pulled up. There was an alpha in a feminine get up, something he found himself staring at when they would go to the mall. A short pink skirt and those tight thigh highs that would make the fat of his legs look perfect; he knew it. If only his stupid alpha boyfriend was outwardly into that stuff…  

The video started out normal enough, the omega getting surrounded by a bigger and more muscular alpha. It was the usual porn shenanigans, but then they brought out a muzzle. It wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but Zoro continued to watch. I mean, Usopp had it starred and everything on his browser, which he was going to investigate in a few moments. But first, the porn was capturing his attention. The omega was put onto a muzzle and bent over on the floor, splayed to his alpha as he begged to be used like a fuck toy.  

Zoro quirked an eyebrow, “...That’s .. not half bad..” He murmured to himself, watching as it continued. That was kind of the same theme of all the videos, although the more he watched the more extreme they got. It was always some submissive omega getting rawed and knotted by some bigger alpha. As the tiger clicked onto the folders on the side of the browser, scrolling until he found an unmarked folder, he tried not to think too hard about it.  

In their dynamic, it was kind of the reverse. He was the burly omega with a timid alpha boyfriend. Not to say Usopp wasn’t muscular, fuck, he was built- but he wasn’t any match for his boyfriend.  

Was that what Usopp wanted? A scrawny and feminine omega to fuck into for days on end?  

The omega found more porn in the poorly hid folder, organized by genre because it was his boyfriend we were talking about here. There weren’t any burly omegas there, with muscles being dominated. In some way, it was kind of making him feel bad about himself. He knew his boyfriend watched porn, but he didn’t realize he’d have so many tabs saved, of the same thing. None of them even looked like Zoro.  

But it was silly, he thought as he closed the laptop [after he erased his tracks]. Why should he even get upset over something like that? He was Zoro! He was a man who only needed booze and sword collecting to get through any hardship, he never needed that stupid stuff like … being wanted. But, God, he wanted to be wanted so badly. He knew Usopp wanted him, but clearly not enough. Clearly there was something he wasn’t doing right. He wasn’t the cute submissive omega he even wanted to be, he was big and curt.  

Some part of him wanted to be cute, and most of him wanted to be cute to appease the alpha gaze. It was so complex to think he wanted something he despised, and despised what he wanted. To be sexualized by someone you love in something you wished wasn’t sexualized by society.  

The ocelot wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, and it wasn’t too late to do some shopping, he thought. The shopping was brisk, going to Kohl’s of all places to find a cute skirt and some lingerie. Pink was compelling, but a black set drew him in. Instead of a skirt, he opted for some black laced panties. Starting out seductive yet feminine, could be cute if you squinted. It had small flowers embroidered into the fabric, which were cute to him. Probably would be cute to Usopp too. The bra itself was tan, with a black mesh overlay that cascaded down like a faux dress. But in the middle, it came together as two halves, with a bow at the center of the bra. All along it, small flowers were detailed into the bra and mesh, making it cohesive. It wasn’t as cutesy as he wanted, but it was a start into the world of femininity.  

Staring at his own reflection in the mirror, Zoro couldn’t help but admire how the cups clung to his skin. If he didn’t know any better it looked like his pecs were breasts, actual breasts. It was fun to think for a moment he had them, or something adjacent to them. Mounds of fat protruding off his body in a way that, for once, suited him. Then the panties, that left nothing more to the imagination. His cock was barely contained in the fabric, the head poking out as much as he tried to stuff it back in the confines. Fashion was really tricky.  

Before the insecurity came in, he thought he looked good. Then, after he stared, he thought he looked stupid. How could he think he could pull off this feminine thing? How could he think he could wear a bra and look- look decent? Not pretty. His looks aren't suited for the word pretty. Handsome, maybe. Rugged, too, but never pretty. The tiger ears atop his head flattened back and his tail flicked a few times as he glared at himself. He didn’t look stupid, he looked bad.  

He could never pull off this feminine thing.  

Zoro turned on his heel to change when he heard a familiar voice shout through the apartment, “Zo-o-oro you’ll never guess what happened at the party!” The omega felt his heart sink as the one thing he didn’t want to happen happened. Of course. This was his nightmare. He was living a nightmare. Well, maybe he was sleeping! So, in an action of haste, he slapped himself in the face. Instead of waking up, though, he just got stinging pain glaring back at him. 

He was awake. 

He wasn’t sure what to do. Typically, they would congregate on the couch and the alpha would regale him with his day, no matter how long it took. And typically, Zoro would always come out of where he was to greet him. It wasn’t like the tiger to just sit there and wait, or else his stupid amazing and caring boyfriend would get worried. 

“Zoro?” The alpha called out again, as the omega glared at himself in the mirror. He could either look ridiculous in their bedroom or he could look ridiculous in the living room. It was his pick whether he wanted to die of embarrassment in a different room or not. He let out a small sigh and slowly walked out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the living room.  

“Over here,” Zoro spoke, peering out into the hall to see his boyfriend sitting on the couch and logging into his laptop. Thankfully, he didn’t turn his head to gaze upon his lingerie covered form. He was too busy typing something up onto the search bar, clicking into the fist search and scrolling.  

“Perfect! You’ll never guess! Sanji- Oh let me get a drink, hold on!” Like a squirrel, he found his attention caught elsewhere. He bolted up from the couch, darting into the kitchen to grab a drink.  

It gave Zoro enough time to hide, maybe run into the bedroom and throw on a coat. But he knew he couldn’t hide forever. He couldn’t hide his shame with a coat even if he tried, he had to show himself and live with the consequences. As Usopp chattered on in the kitchen, his boyfriend slowly walked into the living room and stood. He had never truly been nervous before. Not when he had bid on swords on eBay or when he was graduating college. Nothing truly made his nerves ache like being stared at, barely clothed, with his soul bared to his lover.  

This was kind of like baring every part of his ugly insecurities out on a table for his boyfriend to see. Never was Zoro the tiger vulnerable, especially vulnerable in lingerie no less. It was starting to feel humiliating and he wasn’t even being watched yet. 

“...And he said that I had the best project! Isn’t that funny? Out of everyone,” Usopp rounded the corner and slowly came to a stop when he saw his boyfriend’s outfit, “I … had the.. Best… project.” His eyes slowly widened, raking from Zoro’s face down his long torso. It was methodical, how his eyes stared until they were back to his face. Quickly and within seconds, his deep skin turned into a dark shade of red, sprawling across his temples and down his nose.  

The two exchanged a painfully long beat of eye contact before Zoro knew he had to break the ice, “I went to Kohl's today.” It was all he managed to muster out under his boyfriend's intense gaze. A gaze he couldn’t read. Then it hit him. Wave after wave was wafting off his partner, hitting his nose almost instantaneously. Usopp was aroused, or at least leaking off more horny pheromones than he normally was. How could he be horny seeing this? It wasn’t anything special.  

“I can tell,” his voice was hoarse, dry, and coming from the back of his throat. As if it was painful for him to stand there with a canned sprite in his hands, fiddling with the cap, “You look…” Usopp trailed off, blowing some air from his pursed lips as his eyes went back to Zoro’s chest. That’s where they lingered, on the pecs that were pushed up and molded to look like breasts. 

It was just some lingerie on an omega who was the furthest thing from being feminine. How could the alpha find him attractive in this when all Zoro saw was a pig with lipstick on? It wasn’t the same as those other omegas with the smaller builds and the daintier frames. Soon, he realized he didn’t feel bad that his boyfriend was watching porn. No. He was jealous he was nothing like those omegas on the porn he watched. He wasn’t cute, he wasn’t small, he didn’t have a feminine frame.  

“Stupid? I know,” Zoro let out a laugh. Always, he deflected with humor. Something he picked up from when he was younger, but he always tried to push his feelings away with remarks that were the furthest thing from how he felt. This time though, he wasn’t lying when he continued, “I was gonna take it off.” 

“N-No!” The ocelot blurted out, dropping his sprite bottle and stepping over it, to clasp his omega’s hands with his own, “You look so… stunningly-beautiful-amazing-pretty-sexy-hot,” he spoke, smiling awkwardly, “You look really good.” The words were nice to hear. It was nice to feel those eyes stare into his skull. But those videos lingered in Zoro’s mind every time he closed his eyes.  

“I went on your laptop,” he looked away, only turning his head to face his alpha when he felt a foot nudge his own, “And I found your porn folder.” At that, Usopp let out a strangled and embarrassed noise, dropping their hands and flopping back onto the couch.  

“I can explain! I’m not some big pervert!” He covered his eyes with his left arm as he shouted, “I barely watch any of that stuff anymore! I’m all for omegas rights!” Usopp continued to ramble on, about how he never meant to offend his boyfriend and how most of it was old. I mean, the tiger knew that much. But he didn’t want to know the ocelot wasn’t a pervert. Zoro wanted that perverted side so badly, to feel it, to taste it, to kiss it.  

Zoro didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to show his alpha what he wanted. So, without speaking, letting his boyfriend rattle on, he dropped down to his knees. It was barely a soft thud against the carpet as he positioned himself. Was this even as cute as the omegas in porn? Should he have bought something different? All those thoughts tried to break through, but the omega did his best to swallow them and do what he always did: wing it.  

Two burly hands fell to his boyfriend's knees, steadying them as his voice dripped out, trying to put on an air of confidence he didn’t have, “Sopp… look at me.” Zoro tried to have it come out commanding and sultry, but in turn it ended up more whiney and pathetic than he intended. Instantly, however, it got the alphas attention. He snapped up, staring down at his partner with wide eyes as he saw the scene before him.  

Usopp swallowed slowly, “Uh… huh- uh-huh.” His top teeth found home on his bottom lip, pressing his canines down into the skin. It was something the tiger only saw him do when he was fighting off his rut when it would come in the most inopportune times.  

“I want you to be a pervert for me…” Zoro’s voice was low, trying to be seductive but turning out more submissive than he meant. He was never the type to be overtly submissive even when he bottomed, but God, it was hard not to beg when he was being stared at like he was some kind of meat, begging to be devoured. He wanted to be eaten and sucked on and fucked until he was just a mess, lying back while his boyfriend did all the work. It was always so nice when he got to do nothing more than take it.  

“No… No, you don’t,” Usopp warned hesitantly, placing a gentle hand over top of his boyfriends.  

“Yes, I do, long-nose,” he retorted with a sudden frown, “I want you to use me like I’m one of those twinks in your pornos.” He didn’t want this gentle kind hand on his own, he wanted someone who would grab his jaw and spit in his mouth.  

Usopp looked at him for a long while, his dull brown eyes blown out to almost completely black. It only really happened when he was horny, no not just horny, undeniably horny. He could be more dominant in the bedroom, it ultimately depended on his partner. He wanted to fulfill and to nurture. That was his purpose. To please Zoro in whatever way he could, because then he’d be pleased. But at that moment, all the alpha was thinking about was himself. The man was picturing how he could have his boyfriend all to himself, rutting into him until he was satisfied.  

“Zoro…” Usopp let out his own whine, running his spare left hand to his omegas chin, tilting it up just a bit to get a better look at him. Under that aroused gaze, he felt like nothing more than an object. Fuck, it was turning him on so bad. He could feel his cock straining against his panties, trying desperately to escape and find his alpha.  

“Use me,” he muttered, “Please.”  

Those were all the words Zoro needed to say. The ocelot pressed his lips against his omega’s, molding them together as one. Slowly, his mouth enveloped the other to take him in. To savor it. To taste him. To pleasure him in any way that he could. And fuck, was he getting pleased. Their hands were searching for more to grab and fondle as the alpha found himself on the floor.  

Their bodies pressed together, gripping for friction. Legs toppled each other just to touch, to taste, to feel better. Touching for more heat. Pulling apart Usopp’s clothes so the other could run his hands down his chest and marvel at his tanned body. It was chiseled and perfect for his hands to press against his pecs and roll the skin between his fingers.  

“Fuck, you look good,” Zoro breathed out, lying back on the carpet as he found the alpha straddling just below his erection. He was straining in his khakis, barely holding on as he eyed the cock from his boyfriend's panties. It was so hot to see as his own cock twitched for salvation, for some kind of touch.  

Without thinking, the tiger pressed his hand against his dick and slowly rutted his hips upward, letting out a sigh at the slightly pleasurable sensation. But it was nothing compared to what his partner could do with his hands. His skilled hands from all that engineering stuff, skilled enough to take care of him. The air was thick with their pheromones, smelling of nothing more than sex and pine needles. His head was spinning as his fingers groped the bulge in his panties, rubbing around his oozing slit. He didn’t realize it, but the omega himself was dripping. Drops of slick upon slick were dripping from his hole as they watched each other, soaking his underwear. It was slowly going to leak down his legs if he was going to have to wait any longer.  

But then a voice broke through Zoro’s thoughts, “Doggy. Now,” Usopp paused, “Please?” He didn’t have to tell the other twice.  

Zoro pushed off his partner with ease, turning onto his knees and leaning forward until he was in a somewhat comfortable version of doggy style. Although it had less arch to it, and he was more so on the ground, legs spread apart to support his weight. The ocelot pulled his panties down, letting them reside just above his knees as he used two hands to pull apart his ass cheeks. He said something before he dove his mouth onto his asshole, kissing it like it was holy. Licking it like it was the last time. Devouring him like he would never eat again.  

A cold sensation spiked up against Zoro’s back as he felt a moan tumble from his lips, sending his face to be buried into the carpet as he leaned back into the pleasure. It felt so good, strange, but good. Lick after lick sent shock waves through Zoro’s body, pulling him closer and closer to feeling white hot pleasure. It was pathetic to be so close just from a tongue in his hole, but he wanted to be pathetic, right? He wanted this humiliating sting of degradation, and fuck, it was so good. 

It didn’t last for long, as much as he wanted it to, as his alpha pulled back and sniffed, “I need to touch you- and me- right now...” He was exacerbated and needy. It was obvious from the quivering tone in his voice, broken with lust and desire. So much want, dripping from his tongue like honey.  

Zoro slowly turned his body, sitting down on the carpet and looking at his boyfriend whose face was covered in his own slick. He would’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t so turned on, suddenly wanting to break the distance and clean him up with his own mouth, tasting himself on his lover's tongue. “What’s a good position for that?” He asked instead.  

It was silent before Usopp’s face lit up, “Frotting,” his voice was breathy as he got up on his knees, pulling down his pants so he could free his own erection, kicking away his khakis. Zoro had heard of frotting a few times from media, and he had seen it on Pornhub maybe once. The idea of pressing his hot, wet, cock against his boyfriends, and rubbing for some kind of pleasure made the skin around his thighs heat up with a blistering blush. Skin upon skin as they would rut together, holding their dicks to make sure they both felt it. Making sure their precum was the only lubrication as it leaked, eggs upon eggs coming from his alpha, coating them both.  

Positioning was easy, well after a little discussion.  

Zoro was straddling Usopp, positioning their cocks together. Every movement and every touch were already too much, sending soft moans tumbling from his lips. Moans he didn’t recognize. It didn’t sound like him as he heard them, sounding so much smaller and submissive than he could’ve ever been. His alpha was far gone, staring with wide, lustrous eyes, while his ears were flattened back against his head.  

The omega wrapped his hand around their cocks and slowly moved his hips forward, just to see what it would feel like. It was small, just a fleeting amount of arousal build up between their lengths as they ground against each other. He wanted it to last, but he didn’t want to start off too strong. The alpha’s grip was ironclad on his boyfriend's hips, moving him back and forth along his penis. It was slow and deliberate, almost prolonging this whole affair. Maybe it was just so Usopp could admire him in that bralette a bit more, seeing how it pushed the fat of his pecs together. Zoro didn’t realize it, but maybe his boyfriend liked him more than those old porn videos he would watch.  

“I love that bra…” Usopp gritted out, trying to steady the shaking in his hips as he desperately held back, “I love it on your, a-ah… fuck, tits.”  

Tits. They were tits, huh? He had tits, in some way or another in this bra. And maybe he had tits regularly too, if he squinted. The thought made Zoro’s stomach turn in a bit of happiness, before it was overtaken with a wave of pleasure.  

His hips moved a bit faster, with his cupped hands stroking in tandem. The skin against skin was perfect, slippery as he leaked precum, mixing with Usopp’s egg-filled slick, and dying to release. He was swollen, as Zoro’s hand moved to cup their heads and run his fingers along his boyfriends slit, just to see what would happen. It was the most sensitive part of the ocelot, making his hips stutter at the feeling.  

“You’re hot,” Zoro breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss on his lover's nose, “I’m surprised you like this… bra shit.” His voice was uneven, different than usual. It wasn’t a good look in his own opinion for it to sound overly whiny, but it was heading in that direction from the teasing strokes of his hips, as their dicks pressed against one another.  

“I-I love it,” Usopp purred, his hands moving with haste to grip his omegas jaw and bring him down to his own face, “You’re so…” Instead of finishing, a low moan escaped his lips, and their mouths met. Slowly, feverishly, pecking until he couldn’t help but deepen it with his tongue. Gentle kissing, turning intense as Zoro squeezed their cocks with his hand and picked up the pace, trying to finish. He needed it so bad, to cum on his alpha and feel those small eggs against his skin. It was hot when his alpha would release on his skin so he could feel it stick against him. So, he could feel those squishy eggs roll on his stomach and settle. Those eggs he wanted deep inside him, fermenting a little baby.  

“Sopp,” Zoro pulled back from the kiss, feeling a bulge begin to form at the base of his boyfriend's penis, “Impregnate me later…” That’s what sent Usopp over the edge, gasping and leaning forward to chase his omegas lips in a kiss as he came, covering them both in spurts of hot cum. Each egg passing through his urethra made his lips stutter and weaken their hold against the others, as the sensitivity rose. It was so hot to see him fall apart, hear him fall apart, and feel it, too.  

And he was knotting against nothing, which was the icing on the cake for Zoro as he felt a slow orgasm take hold of his cock. It was low and barely anything as it built up into a wave of bliss. It overtook him and made him lean forward, moaning as he splattered ropes onto his boyfriend's stomach. The knot rubbed against his length, and it was becoming too much, so he pulled back to look at the mess across Usopp’s stomach and chest.  

Usopp’s eyes were shut, as he panted quick breaths through his mouth. His hands were on the small of his omega’s back, gripping tightly as he was coming down from his prolonged high, as his cock was busy drizzling out more eggs by the thousands. All so small, perfect for his omega to watch.  

“You want… a baby?” The alpha slowly opened one eye, glancing up at the disheveled tiger.  

“Yeah. You heard me,” there was no going back now. He was standing his ground. Two arms crossed against Zoro’s chest, and he soon realized this bra was completely soaked with cum. So much for those twenty dollars he spent.  

Usopp looked away thoughtfully for a moment, pressing his lips together. The coils against his forehead were matted to his skin with sweat, as his boyfriend reached over to smooth them to the side. He looked back with a faint smile, finally saying, “If it’s a boy can we name him Danbill?”  

Zoro slowly blinked, “Like Dan… middle name bill?”  

“No,” he breathed out, “Danbill. One word.”  

The omega let out a breathless laugh, falling onto the other side and rolling off to lay beside him on the floor. He couldn’t deny the fact the name was stupid, but he couldn’t deny the fact he loved Usopp too much to care at that moment.  

“Danbill Roronoa… You realize that sounds stupid,” he looked over at his alpha, who was grinning wide.  

“Then he’ll just have to have my last name. Especially since he’ll be getting my good looks,” Usopp’s chest rose and fell quickly as he continued, “And maybe your ears,” a finger came up to lightly flick at his boyfriend's ear, “Oh, and he’ll get my smarts!”  

“He’ll get my strength…” Zoro trailed off, looking down at his bra, “What do you think about me doing the feminine thing? Is it … ugly? I know I’m not,” he hesitated, feeling stupid for even bringing it up now, “Small or petite. So, it looks weird.”  

Usopp turned onto his side, propping himself up on his right elbow as his left hand came to rest on his boyfriend's stomach. His thumb rubbed small circles against his warm skin, attempting to soothe as he spoke, “I don’t want you to be small or petite. It looks great on you because, well, you’re you.” He let out a breath and averted his gaze, shifting a bit before he continued, “I watch that porn and pretend it’s you. I like how you dress, but you look so good in this stuff… I never know how to ask you to do it- E-Even if it’s not sexual! Like, you’d look so nice in one of those long sundresses- pregnant- I mean not pregnant but if you were pregnant, it would look good too…” And he kept rambling.  

Zoro just watched him, staring as he searched his boyfriend's face. It was genuine, what he was saying. He wanted the omega to be feminine as much as he himself wanted to be feminine. Maybe for sexual reasons or maybe because he liked the idea of wearing those long dresses, or those pretty blouses he’d see at Walmart. That small part of him, the part he pushed away with beer and exercise was coming out, full frontal. He wanted to be feminine, and he wanted to still be himself.  

“Okay,” his voice cut off Usopp’s as he was now rambling about something he didn’t care to listen to, “I want it.”  

“To be feminine?” The ocelot raised an eyebrow, “But don’t do it for me.”  

“Oh, shut up, long-nose,” Zoro’s hand came up and pressed his palm against his boyfriend's forehead, pushing him backward with ease, “I want to be feminine. I’ve been thinking about it.”  

And even though his tone was mildly annoyed, he was completely overjoyed. He was going to be himself.  

[hauntedjohnny]

just wanted to let you know that johnnys-breastmilk is a proshipper in case you didn’t know <33

hi i know you mean well but i am well aware of the people i interact with. me and the block button are close friends <3 theres been a lot of hostility from both sides this week so here's grounds for a calmer discussion about it.

honestly i think the pro/anti ship labels are reductive and redundant. just because someone explores darker themes in their writing/hcs doesnt mean theyre open to ship anything. there is no definition to what being 'proship' is other than letting people use their creative outlet to explore whatever themes they want. would i identify with this? no because i have limits. just like you. just like J-B. but do i also believe people should be policed into only writing socially acceptable themes and relationships? also no. the thing about the limits is that it looks different for everyone. am i a proshipper for writing and enjoying noncon fics? to some people yes! to some people no! would i write and enjoy underage or beastiality fic? no because theyre hard limits for me (and probably are for a lot of people). to some people we're all in the same immorality boat but i think there's a nuance that an all-encompassing label refuses to acknowledge. 'proship' is reductive because it doesnt actually MEAN anything. sure they could be a genuinely harmful person and hurting a community through their content but 95% of the time theyre not!

when it comes to something like incest (hot topic in the tcm fandom) maybe take a moment and consider why someone would be into a topic like that, why they enjoy exploring that theme in a safe way through writing or drawing etc. sure fiction can affect reality but often times reality also affects fiction. im not saying you have to enjoy the posts but opening your mind and offering some grace to the people who need an outlet explore these themes doesnt hurt.

in the early days of this fandom i did not enjoy seeing incest posts (specifically johnny/sissy*) so i did what i know best: block the blogs and blacklisted the tags. it worked !! as time has passed ive become much more open to the themes of incest in tcm. for me, when i interact with these themes its not to fulfil some kind of desire, it's usually analytical discussion: realistically what would these people do? what dynamics are formed if you introduced these themes? you unlock a world of potential by looking at things through a lense you normally wouldnt, especially a taboo one. however, just because this is how i prefer to interact with these topics, it doesnt make the people who have a more emotional connection to them any weirder than me, if anything i find myself grateful to not have an emotional reaction strong enough to the point of needing an outlet to process them and you should too!

*i later realised that the reason i initally didn't vibe with johnny/sissy was actually because i didnt enjoy the way people characterised them in that dynamic and not because of the 'incest' (theyre not even related lol).

i just think everyone should be a bit more open-minded and nicer to eachother. and this goes both ways. im not saying you have to be into this shit. if you arent then block it and move on without whining about it in the tags. if you are into it you have to accept that not everyone is. just block any disingenious comments/questions. you will not change their mind.

tldr; im not one to post too much about taboo topics like incest/necro etc but im not gonna hate or even disagree with people who do. if you get genuinely mad over this then just take a moment to think about what kind of people post about darker topics and why they may need to do so.

[foliejpg]

oh yippie more asks:D

i have a lot :3

🍓🌵🥑🥤🌻🧃🧸🪐🍬🦷❄️🌿🏜️🍦🌸🎨🧩

you dont have to answer all of them but here you gooo

oh hell yes this is gonna be so fun <3

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

i don't remember specifically how, but i know i first interacted with shipping on youtube in like 2007-08 back when you could comment on people's profiles and message other users, so i think i must have commented on some like.. pokeshipping amv and just struck up a convo before i followed some friends i made to ff.net and deviantart, and started writing on ff.net lol

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

so i don't use spotify, i'm an apple music girlie and i really only listen to my own playlist i made that is composed of all of my top 100 songs of the year going back to 2015 LMAO

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

@actuallyalaska she got me

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

every writer i tagged yesterday!! all of whom take part of the @bandomthememonths go read all these great fics by these awesome writers<333

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

@judasisgayriot your gifs are a godsend and i always love getting a comment from them <3

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

my name is short for guinevere lol

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

so i'm sort of picky abt my dash lol i try to stick to foblr so if you post mostly fob then i'll prob follow! i do a good scroll through to get the vibe, but if they post a lot of non fob stuff, i usually skip bc its just not for me but no hard feelings ever<3

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

well i just bought a new (refurbished) computer for the first time in a few years, so that's exciting! i've recently started making embroidery patches and that's been a lot of fun lol idk i've just been having a good time<3 i'm doing a lot of home renovation projects so i'm excited to have a brand new kitchen soon lmao

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

not a fandom character but as far as bandom goes, i don't really care for mcr and maybe that just has everything to do with that i'm really not familiar with lore/band mbrs etc., but danger days is the only mcr album i really connected with especially when i was 16-17 and its still one of my favorite albums, but i'm good on their other albums lol

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

just be kind<3 ik that's super cheesy but i think its easy to forget that other ppl have feelings too and maybe just being nice to someone will make their day. also don't ever pay full price for anything if you can avoid it. generic brands are just as good as name brands

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

i have.. no idea honestly lmao

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

listen when i figure it out, i'll let you know lol when i'm stuck i eat an edible and stare at the wall until something comes to me

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

ANY AND ALL!!!! especially when they tell me a specific part they liked - even if its just a line makes my heart go bu-bump<3

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

genuinely i can't think of a character i hate, i really don't watch anything but like. seinfeld and its always sunny in philadelphia lmfao

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

this is my cat bear<3 she's ten years old and sleeps in a drawer in my desk while i work

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

here and here and here and this nsfw fanart from my bubbline au these are all my absolute favorites <3

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

i answered this here but its super long so<3

[ao3-softwarecorruption-exe]

📖 Writer Interview

Tagged by @writing-for-soup!!!! (unoffically lol) Defo go check out her interview, it was a blast 2 read! :D For my own answer- please continue reading after the cut!

When did you start writing?

Technically I've been trying to write ever since I was a kid. Doing small comics and writing the first pages of stories to never be finished. I loved the idea of making my own characters come to life, and to manage to write something of my own, but the task was always so daunting for me.

Then sometime during middle school I discovered fanfiction, and that made me want to writ fanfiction, though I never dared until Uni lol.

During middle school was when I started actually getting married to the idea of one day exploring writing. We had a lot of creative writing assessments during English class, and my English teacher was a wonderful lady who gave me such wonderful feedback, and she always, every single assessment, said she hoped to see me as an author one day. I hope I can tell her one day that she was the biggest reason that I never gave up on writing.

Then during Uni I finally managed to write. I found writing to be a great way to destress, and it was fun, and when I posted and got nice comments I started to lose that beginning anxiety that my words were awful and it became easier to actually get words on the page instead of just dreaming up ideas in my head.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Perhaps Sci-Fi? I do enjoy Sci-Fi, but I don't think I could ever wrap my head around all the sci-fi-y terms and rules haha. It requires so much thought to world building and at least a basic understanding of science to start with before you start making up your own science lol.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

My favorite author might be K.A Applegate when I read all her animorphs books, and I've always enjoyed her blunt way of storytelling. I like getting to the point. But I wouldn't say I am only emulating her writing style.

I steal and take from authors everywhere, be it published authors of fellow fanfiction writers. I see a style, I consider how to mesh it with my own, until I have something a mix of all in some Frankenstein's Monster creation.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

My main writing space for max productivity is the gas station right down the street of where I live. Free wi-fi, barely any people, cheap sausages, and free refills of coffee. It is my ideal environment for calm of mind, though it can get quite freezing during the winters.

Other than that there is, of course, the mess that is my room. And sometimes I will treat myself to write at a café after my lectures, or else write during my lectures. (not a good thing for my grades lol).

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Probably songs. I've found that if I have a song I really like, and also connect to a certain piece of media I like, listening to that song on repeat will make me think up ideas and concepts and scenes for the characters or media that I connect it with.

It can truly be random. It's very rarely a song actually connected to that piece of media. I just decide by a whim.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I've found that I enjoy writing characters who use denial as a defense mechanism. Avoiding problems, or more often the truth of their situation or their own emotions, is something I think I force upon many a character.

I asked my fantastic friend @lily-alphonse for help with this one, and she mentioned that I also use loneliness in a lot of my works. Which I believe is true. I do adore loneliness as theme or something to have a character suffer with.

What is your reason for writing?

It is fun, and I get a lot of enjoyment out of the art of creation. I love consuming art, but sometimes I need to scratch an itch that no-one can reach but myself. I am my own dumb scratching stick haha.

I've always loved the idea that when you write, you create actual little universes. Like there's a power in it, in creating, and having others see that creation and get something out of it. Art is so wonderful, so beautiful.

Also it's just so goddamn human. We can explore so much that we can't otherwise, we can get a better understanding of ourselves, the world around us, people so different or so alike. It makes me so insane, the way art can surpass us. I mean art has been around since the most early humans! Drawings, and architecture, and later writing. The earliest goddamn written story that we've found explores the same human concepts that we still ponder about today!!! Gilgamesh's intense existential dread, his fear of dying after his closest friend dies. Hello?????? Insane, wild, fantastic. Its fucking crazy, honestly, and it has brought me many spirals of existential dread and wonder at the same time.

And I mean- have you thought of how fun it is to see the same concepts shaped by the time they were written in? When I was reading Frankenstein in High School I was so fascinated by how Frankenstein acted when stressed and anxious, and how it was always explained away by him coming down with a fever. He did not have a complete mental breakdown that left him unable to leave his house for weeks due to how stressed seeing certain things would make him, no. He was sick with a fever. This was used multiple times. I found it so absolutely intriguing.

And I also just cant bare the thought of dying one day and having contributed nothing to the endless, beautiful wonder of art. I get to make things, I am so so lucky I get to make things, and I get to share what I make, and that's just. So fun. So fucking great.

Stopping myself from ranting further lmfao.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

God comments, I love you so much. Anything from a single emoji to a multi paragraph essay. I love you. It brings me so much joy, makes me so flustered.

The comments that have always made me fawn in utter appreciation, are those that have pointed out things I do in my writing which they enjoy. Especially concerning characterization, which tends to be the thing I'm the most anxious about when writing. When someone tells me they feel I've captured a character's personality/vibe, I feel so warm.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Someone who made them feel something, if only for the duration of the read. Even if it's just momentary contentment. :)

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Again I had to run to @lily-alphonse for help! She says that it's probably introspection, which might be true! It's something I really do love writing. God, to get into the head of people- its so fun. I love writing the way characters rationalize and think and decide on things.

How do you feel about your own writing?

Hahahha, my friends @lily-alphonse and @writing-for-soup will know that I am never at all consistent with how I feel about my own writing.

I've learnt during my journey of posting what I write, that I often love my work up until it is posted. Then I will go through a cycle of barely daring to touch it or read what I've written, and when I eventually force my gaze upon my wretched creation, there's a high chance I'll suddenly decide it is wonderful and the best thing I've ever made and wow look at me I'm such a genius I can't believe I wrote this.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

I mostly write for myself, though writing completely in self indulgence is something I have to work myself up to! I still write the ideas I want and daydream about, but some ideas, often of the darker and more dead-dove-do-not-eat designs, I must hype myself up for.

And I am of course influenced by trends and popular headcanons in the fandoms I am in haha.

Tagging (with no pressure); @steamyearlgray @vilukissakakskaks

[crystal-overdrive]

Writer Interview Tag ✍️

Thank you for the tag @darkurgetrash!

When did you start writing?

I'm a pandemic writer! I'd always liked the idea of writing, but lockdown gave me the time to actually commit to finishing pieces. I wrote my first visual novel when I was 26, moved into narrative design at work at 27, then started my master's degree in creative writing at 29. Towards Tyranny is the first fanfiction I've written, though I have been a reader since 2008-ish. From both perspectives I suppose I'm relatively late to writing. Sometimes I feel like I'm ancient and sometimes I feel very young, but I think having a decade of life experience under my belt before I started writing has helped me to craft more meaningful narratives. The best writers I know are in their 50s and I'm twenty years off that! With admitting that I'm actually educated in and have professional experience with writing, I feel like I must explain that Towards Tyranny is 100% unedited - pure brain garbage. I'm more invested in keeping up with my schedule and delivering a story than crafting fantastic (or even middling) prose.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Outside of fic I mostly write science-fiction and drama. I listen to a lot of horror audio drama and fiction podcasts, and while there is a horror element lurking in the background of some of my work, I'm yet to fully venture into that territory.

Most of the sci-fi I read is lefty political spec-fic. Eventually I'd like my own sf work to contain those sorts of themes but I don't think I'm politically astute enough right now to do that justice.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

One of the best-worst comments I ever got from a professor was "Neal Stephenson can get away with this. You are not Neal Stephenson," in reference to my use of dense neologisms and tech-industry specific language. He later said the piece was better than Blade Runner so, idk, maybe I can get away with that! 😂 I got another Philip K Dick comparison with my current supervisor when we were talking about theme and he told me his prose is shit but he does theme so well that it doesn't matter. 😬 With prose, the dream is to be some combination of Ursula K Le Guin and William Gibson, write some ecofeminist cyberpunk stuff. With drama I'm obsessed with Caryl Chruchill. She breaks the rules in such delightful ways, and my latest play cribs her werido no-punctuation style.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I have my own office because when I was working both my partner and I were under NDAs, so we had to give up the spare bedroom so we could stop sharing the office. I couldn't go back now. Having space in the house just for me is so wonderful. My desk is frequently an absolute state, but it's organised chaos, I know where everything is. I have my craft books in here and a big whiteboard for all my tasks for the week. Behind my monitor I have a motivation wall of printed out comments on my work, and I also have all the fandom artwork I've bought framed in here. The other art in the house is a little more tasteful so this is the sexy Gortash quarantine zone.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I think it depends on your definition of muse. If it means "the will to write", there is no muse. Its all routine and deadlines, baby. I know I sound like one of those grouchy old writers, but you sit and you write, that's it. Some days it's crap. Most days it isn't. In terms of idea generation, my primary technique is just daydreaming, honestly. I joke with my partner that I'm "going to bed to watch TV" which actually means just imagining what's going to happen next in my story for like 2 hours before I fall asleep. I go on a walk most days and think then. In dire moments just lying on the floor until an idea comes also works. When I'm actually gearing stuff up for pitching I look back through my old notebooks, make mind maps and take inspiration from news and magazines. I have a box with clippings from Wired, New Scientist and those trashy "true story" magazines like Take a Break. Juxtaposing headlines and images from those often gives me something interesting to work with. I went to an archives workshop recently so I might try archive diving when I start my next project.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Alternative realities and expectations of women seem to saturate my writing. This year I've written a screenplay about jumping dimensions which questioned the value of motherhood, part of a novel about teenage girls being suicide baited in VR to achieve eternal beauty, an interactive fiction piece about a game able to alter reality and a radio play about simulation theory.

Towards Tyranny is absolutely loaded with the expectations of women thing, with marriage, children, parental expectations and societal expectations being really core to Tav's life choices and dilemmas. It's a pretty negative take considering where we're going right now.

What is your reason for writing?

That's an interesting question! There's absolutely no doubt that Towards Tyranny is kind of therapy for me. I wrote my way through a crisis of faith, through feeling like I was perceived as unequal to my partner, through losing friends to mortgages and pets and babies. I honestly don't think I would be engaged right now if I hadn't written this. I'm really terrible at identifying my own emotions and for some reason making up a hot character with all my worst traits and sending her down the fascist pipeline has helped me with that. 😂

I think at this point with TT I'm now writing for the audience. I know you're "not supposed" to do that but I don't create things to hide them away, I create things to connect with others, in the hope that someone else sees themselves in my viewpoint. I doubt I'm so unique that no one else has these problems!

In my more general writing life I suppose that is it, I write to connect with people, to share ideas, maybe? I just enjoy it, really.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Every single time I get a comment it makes me so excited. I fucking live for comments. My favourites are definitely ones that speculate on what's coming next. The fun part of working in a serial format is going on that guessing journey with the readers and seeing where they think things are going. I'm pretty convinced that my readers have a very different idea of how TT will end compared to me, which is going to be interesting. 👀

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

For my wider work I almost don't want to be thought of, I'm big believer in death of the author and am really interested in audience interpretations and what they do with the work. With the fic, it's all about community. I must admit I have a very cringe fantasy of like, expertly ordering wine in my gorgeous heels at some BG3 convention and someone being like "you wrote Towards Tyranny, didn't you?". That's fucking embarrassing lol. But that's the point of (what used to be) a self-insert, right? You but cool and hot? I suppose I want the audience to think I'm smart, elegant, astute, while honestly what I'm telling them is that I'm a dumbass who doesn't know her own emotions and has a crisis over how people view her every other week.

There's definitely a lot of power in knowing that people are waiting for you to post next week and to know that you're eliciting emotion from them. My posting schedule is important to me. I would die if I thought my audience saw me as flaky or unable to commit and finish what I started.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

My dialogue is pretty good. Most of my education has been in writing for stage and screen, and I think that comes across in my prose too. I don't have a car, so I spend a lot of time being nosy on public transport and listening to how people talk, and I hope that's filtered into how I write different voices.

How do you feel about your own writing?

Some days I think I'm the Goddess' gift to the Earth and other days I think I'm the fucking worst and should just give up. The objective truth is that I'm...fine? I think I'm in a pretty good place as an early career writer. I've got loads of stuff to develop, but my plays are being picked up by scratch nights and small theatres, and I've had positive feedback on my prose by published authors. As I said before Towards Tyranny is not an accurate reflection of my skill level but I do really like it, it's fun, it has stuff to say, it's hot. I've had a lot of doubts about it given it's my first longform piece and my first fanwork, particularly with the sex scenes and the idea that it probably won't end how the readership wants it to, but it does have a readership who have been incredibly kind about it, which has really bolstered me in moments of doubt.