#so im expecting to get more feedback and constructive criticism because it's a concept that a lot of people seem to love

[swiftfootedachilles]

what do i have to do to get people to read my stuff actually like im not about to get in everyones faces begging for attention but i dont understand how im expected to make FREE fandom content without much feedback on my work

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Auxilium (College!Xiao x College!Reader)

TW: mentions blood, depression, anxiety

note: it's my first time writing and posting something on tumblr so im sorry if it's bad!! reader is gn hehe.

Late February was never a good time for Xiao.

It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick. Humans make decisions that eventually shape their personalities. What does a new year have anything to do with that? Does a change in the year automatically make you a good person? Does it make you less of an asshole than you might already be? He never really understood.

He found it rather silly, actually. Whenever a new year rolls around, Xiao would mutter silent curses to himself because he'd write the wrong year on his papers. Other than that, there wasn't any significant changes he made in his daily routine. He was still the same Xiao; The same anxious, mildly depressed, and coffee-high art major Xiao.

Now, Xiao was a respected figure in their college (or at least, that's what he was told). He was one of the most talented artists at Tokyo University, and professors have been eyeing him for a scholarship overseas (he, along with his brooding and mysterious senior, Diluc). His keen eye for details always produce great results as most of his portraits are featured in the university's gallery of students' greatest works. Not to mention, one of his larger canvas works were displayed at the Tokyo Museum, making him one of the youngest artists to have their art showcased there.

Admittedly, Xiao was aware of how people admired his talent. Unfortunately, due to a rough childhood where his parents barely showed him any love and affection, he had trouble reflecting his true emotions onto other people. That's why other art majors often labelled him as a self-absorbed, egotistical prick.

Xiao was the last person you'd want to compliment. It's not that he'd be a dick about it or that he'd scowl at you and act as if he was better than you in every way possible. It wasn't like that at all. It's simply because Xiao doesn't know how to handle compliments. He'll still keep his stoic face, lips pressed in a straight line, but deep inside, he'd be flustered to bits. He'd try to internalize his reply, stitching together the right words to express his gratitude, but it would always take him a few minutes. The person who complimented him would've already left after he finally constructed the sentence in his head. Not that he wasn't used to it

This led to Xiao earning his current reputation, as stated earlier. He was already expecting the rest of his college years to be spent alone in his studio, working on his artworks during the wee hours of the night, high on the fumes of his paint palette and his exhausted coffee machine.

Until you came.

Kaoru was... eccentric. You were loud, you were moody. He felt like you'd be the type of person he'd hate dealing with just because you was unpredictable. You were like the rain, and Xiao hated the rain.

He must have an Archon's cursed tongue, because he got paired up with you during the first semester of their second year in college. You were a familiar name to him, as you were in the same course since the first year, but he barely knew anything about you since you were in different classes.

"Hey, Xiao! I'm _____. I hope we can be good friends by the end of the semester!" His memory of your bright smile still remains vivid in his head. He wasn't really a brooding type like Diluc, but Xiao liked to believed that he presented himself as a silent person who had no intentions of interacting with other people. So, how were you so bubbly around him? Because she was forced to do so? You were to be his partner for the whole semester, after all. Maybe it was all formalities. Yeah, that's probably it.

"Hm." Xiao gave a nod in her direction, acknowledging your existence. you heard from your friends that the young artist didn't have a pleasing personality, but you weren't expecting to be shutdown from the get-go.

"Mind if I sit beside you?"

Again, a light nod.

You felt the awkward tension between you and Xiao, and you hated it. You were a person who hated it when people are uncomfortable in your presence. You didn't want to be a bother, and you did your best to make everyone like you. Not that you were a people pleaser, nor an attention hog, but you just wanted to get along with everyone.

The lecture was going to begin in twenty minutes, so the lecture hall was yet to be filled with people. You took the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the amber eyed man beside you, who was typing away on his laptop. Something about color theory and how it affects the perspective of people on different art types? You couldn't really see that well. He was a fast typer.

"So, Xiao, I heard that your painting was displayed in the Tokyo Museum last year. It must have been an honor. I was at the unveiling last year and I saw it up-close." You started off, testing the waters.

"And what did you think of it?" Xiao cringed internally. He meant to genuinely ask for your feedback regarding his art, but it sounded so harsh that he wanted to punch himself when he saw you wince (or maybe you shuddered because it was cold and you were wearing a sleeveless top? His nerves were getting the better of him at this point).

"Well, a lot of my friends told me that it wasn't anything special,"

Ouch.

"It was a large canvas. I can still remember how it looks. But, maybe that's because I'm at the museum every two weeks," You laughed. You noticed how Xiao's breathing noticeably changed after you started your sentence, and you have to admit that it sounded a bit too mean.

"You know, Xiao. My friends told me that your art was simple. Anyone could have done it. But honestly, they couldn't be more wrong. I love how your piece was painted. Auxilium. I'll never forget what you called it. That's... Help, right?"

At first, Xiao didn't want to listen to this person ramble about an art piece he made during one of the lowest points of his life.

His anti-depressants had run out during that one Christmas. It was 2:47 in the morning. He had morning classes the following day. He had a project to submit, but he was unable to continue working because of the unbearable pain in his chest. His head was throbbing. Voices were invading his mind. Flashbacks of his parents' negligence taunted him. He rushed to grab a glass of water, chugging it down in almost three chugs. He slammed the glass back onto the counter, smashing it into tiny little splinters and cutting himself in the process. His hand was bleeding, there were bits of glass on his counter and on his floor, but he couldn't care less. He was heaving, his breathing was unsteady, he wanted to die right then and there. His vision became blurry, but he rushed back to his studio.

With a bleeding hand, he picked up his brush and began to tear into his canvas. Not literally, but he started to create strokes onto the blank canvas. Different colors, different textures (he swore some of his blood got blended in with the area where he painted the sunrise, but it's fine. No one was going to notice, right?). He screamed and cried, wanting to throw the entire easel out his window.

It was Christmas. He was alone in his apartment. His anti-depressants ran out. He was having a panic attack.

That night led him to having one of the worst breakdowns he could remember, but he also ended up with a gorgeous painting that nabbed him a place in the Tokyo Museum.

"Help," Your voice echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his trance.

"People can tell me that it's nothing more than a simple painting, but the way that the sunrise was only showing in a segmented part of the canvas? The way that there were hints of red? It kind of reminded me how a new day can resemble hope but still contain hurt. Like, the promise of a fresh start isn't guaranteed a good one, right?"

Your words rang in his ears like a gong being hit continuously. He wanted to cry. People always complimented him and congratulated him about being recognized by art critics and national museums, but none of them ever really stopped to talk to him about his art. They were there for his recognition- not his work.

"I mean, you could begin with a fresh start, but wouldn't the remnants of yesterday still take a toll on your tomorrow?"

"Hm. Interesting take. To be honest, those specks could have been my blood." Xiao spoke up, to your surprise. A small smile formed on your face. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.

"My hand was cut up when I was painting that," He added quietly, not mentioning why his hand was in that state. "I think I accidentally added too much concentrated red. I couldn't blend it out the way I originally planned."

"Oh? But that makes it all the more great, though!" You beamed, "Maybe it was an Archon guiding you? I don't really believe in that stuff, but acknowledging some divine intervention once in a while can't be all bad, no?" You laughed.

"I guess you're right." For the first time in a while, Xiao actually gave someone else a small smile. It wasn't really a smile per se, but his lips curved even the slightest bit upward, and you decided that it was a win for you.

-

Fast forward to the second semester of their third year.

Late February was never a good time for Xiao.

It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick.

It had been years since he was clinically-diagnosed with mild depression. So, why was he still that way? Shouldn't new years help him be a better person? Or something like that. Why was he still like this?

Late February meant the end of one semester, and the start of another.

What else did that mean?

His semestral feedback report (he refused to call it a report card. What was he, high school?).

"Xiao? Are you here? I bought almond tofu from Xiangling's place. Sorry for barging in, you weren't answering my calls." He heard your voice from the kitchen and he glanced at the clock on his studio's wall.

1:37 AM.

You were at Xiangling's place because you were working on a report about the history of acrylic paints or whatever it was. You were supposed to go home, but you still dropped by his apartment. He checked his phone.

[ 14 missed calls. ]

Yikes.

"I'm here." He answered meekly, but loud enough for you to hear. He felt tired. Defeated, maybe. He was blankly staring at the canvas in front of him. He has sketched the base of your face and upper body. He was planning on painting a portrait of his beloved to decorate his room with, but he couldn't find the energy to continue.

He could hear the soft "thud"s of your feet walking from the kitchen towards the studio, but he tuned it out with an annoying static he could only hear in his head.

Fuck. Where are they?

He rushed to the drawer next to his easels and rummaged around in a panic.

Where the fuck are they?

He kept a few anti-depressants in his studio because he spends most of his time here and he didn't have time to rush to the kitchen to get them if he ever got a panic attack.

"Fuck!" He cursed loudly, throwing the contents of his desk onto the floor. Some of his paintbrushes scattered on the wooden floor of his studio, marking the wood various colors. Maybe they're going to stain, but he didn't really care.

Xiao heard the footsteps retreating until he couldn't hear anything else except the constant ringing in his ears. It was annoying. It was loud. It started to make him want to split his head open.

"_____," He whispered, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten. The passageways helping him breathe seemed to close themselves, giving him a hard time and mocking him. It was coming back again.

Tears started to flood his vision, and they rolled down his red cheeks. He took the ponytail out of his hair and used two hands to tug at his locks starting from the roots. His breathing patterns became more erratic, but he tried his best to stay calm.

His knees and legs felt like jelly. He had to lean against the desk to avoid from toppling over.

Why? Why again? Why now? Why when you were here?

He screamed. It was loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but his care for any external entities was out the window the moment his eyes became blurry with tears.

Even though he was leaning against the desk, his legs still couldn't hold the weight of his entire body. His knees dropped to the floor, and he swore he must've dented the wood below, but he paid no mind to it. His knees were also aching, but he could deal with that later. He bent down and pressed his forehead to the floor.

"_____," He whispered again, longing for his partner. "Auxilium."

"Xiao?" The voice was muffled. His eyes were glued to the floor in front of him, but he knew it was you.

"Xiao, stay with me, honey." There was a hint of panic evident in your voice, but he was glad that you didn't let that get the best of you. You was still somewhat calm.

You kneeled down beside him, helping him back to an upright position.

"Honey, you left these on the counter outside." You handed him two tablets of his anti-depressants, and he gladly placed them in his mouth. You also gave him a glass of water, and he downed it in two swift gulps. Afraid that he might underestimate his strength, he returned the glass back to you instead of setting it down himself, nodding at you in the process.

You got into a more comfortable position where you rested your back against the wall, and you guided Xiao to follow you. It was a difficult task; He was very sensitive during his panic attacks.

His semestral feedback reports always made him anxious. He didn't have to please his parents anymore since he moved out years ago, but Xiao had this nagging feeling inside of him to do better with his academics. Nobody was really pressuring him to be a straight-A student, but did he feel like he needed to be? Who was he trying to prove himself to anyway? You knew about his sever panic attacks and how they were more active if he had a big event coming up. The first time you had to deal with it, you were still stiff and trying to learn how you could help. Now, you takes pride in yourself for being able to handle him in the ways you know would help him the most.

"Here you go, I've got you." You cooed, assisting him with moving. You laid his head flat on her lap and she began stroking his beautiful, tousled forest green locks. The highlights he had under the first layer of his hair started to fade, and you made a mental note to take him to a salon so they could get their highlights redone.

"You know, I've been listening to a lot of Coldplay lately," You started speaking, as if Xiao wasn't about to have a full-on panic attack. "Yellow would have to be one of my favorite songs. I guess it's kinda cheesy, but can you blame me?"

You used your free hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you." You began singing, voice just above a whisper.

"And everything you do. Yeah, they were all yellow."

Xiao was a reserved person who had a hard time dealing with other people because of his inferiority complex that sprouted when he was young.

"I came along, I wrote a song for you."

He didn't have love and affection growing up. He didn't know how to be the best person to talk to. He had poor communication skills. He was a mess, to be honest.

"And all the things you do. And it was called yellow."

You were the first person who looked past his rough and tough exterior. You were the person who showed interest not just in his name- but in him as a whole.

"So when I took my turn, what a thing to've done."

"Thank you," He murmured silently, noticing that the ringing in his ears vanished. His throat was beginning to open again, and he could finally feel the steady heartbeat he had in his chest.

"And it was all yellow."

Xiao curled himself into a ball, burying his face in your clothed stomach. You smelled a bit like smoke (maybe you ate yakiniku at Xiangling's?) and your faded cologne. It smelled like home. It washed a sense of relief over his entire being. He felt safe. He felt secure. He was being held like a child, but he didn't really mind. Maybe he needed this.

"Your skin. Oh yeah, your skin and bones,"

You craned your neck downwards to look at Xiao's figure. He finally looked peaceful. You knew about his rough past. You knew about the trauma he had to go through, but you chose to look past it because you knew that he was just afraid and... alone. He needed someone to be there for him, and you would rather the world die than leave him alone ever again.

"Turn into something beautiful."

You noticed how his chest started a rhythmic pattern of ups and downs. His breathing was finally steady. He looked at peace. He looked like he was right at home.

"Do you know? You know I love you so."

You couldn't help but chuckle as you watched him sleep in your lap. How could anyone think that this softie was an asshole?

"You know I love you so."

You barely whispered the last part of the song, but it was loud enough for his heart to hear it. Xiao hated when things were unpredictable; that's why he hated the rain. But now, maybe the idea of rain wasn't so bad. Especially since you were his rain.

"I love you, Xiao."

At that moment, you knew that the involuntary smile on Xiao's face was a response that contained more emotions than his words could ever bear.

"I love you too."

[ppangjae]

good day, alex. i have some constructive criticism to give you about your latest jaehyun fic.

.

🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧

🚧 criticism 🚧

🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧

help im sorry ik im not funny and legit the only criticism i have for u is pls mention jaehyuns butt more its cute and hes got a flat ass but we dont need to talk about it

how are u like…godsent with writing??? its like u were..blessed with the power of words and everything u release needs to be framed next to mona lisa. chef!jae concept is not easy but the way u exceeded my expectations and wrote the story so sentimentally?3!2?3?3?? i nearly cried it was so bad for me.

the masterchef arc was also so dear to me bc it was one of my fav shows and its so iconic. also jaehyun remembering yn and seeing her in a different light from what she was used to?? the realization and explanation was so cute. i love how u seamlessly blend portions of the story be it humorous or emotional together so well that the reader doesnt even realize the change of genre until their snot is falling on their phone as they try to read the next line of jaehyun having heart eyes pt 8383838933

sorry this is a mess lol im just thought dumping rn bc ure too good and i could write a whole thesis on this fic and why its the best ever

also i would like to be an anon of urs *blushes* please call me morknon <3333

my heart started beating really fast before i could read the feedback JKSHKFJSHDF but let's get into it!

his flat butt LMFAO skjdhfkjsdhf 😭 it's okay jaehyun we'll work on it

ahhh idk how to react, thank you :') chef!jae was definitely not easy. i started writing five plus one a couple of months ago and it was easy to write the first half but the remaining half of the fic was so hard 😭 it's hard to write the transition of two enemies turning into each other's love interests, which is why it took so long to finish skdjhf. but also, i literally had to watch (and rewatch, over and over again) A LOT of MasterChef videos because although i do know how to cook and i cook meals for myself, it's so hard to actually describe it in actual... words? idk if that made sense skjdfkjsdhf

I HONESTLY LOVE COOKING SHOWS. i went through a whole kitchen nightmares binge -- but i remember trying to look for a chef!jae fic to read here and there were a few but they were mostly short or drabbles AND I FIGURED if there wasn't a long fic about chef!jae, i might as well write it myself 😭 and so here we are LOL

i love how u seamlessly blend portions of the story be it humorous or emotional together so well that the reader doesnt even realize the change of genre until their snot is falling on their phone as they try to read the next line of jaehyun having heart eyes pt 8383838933

fshdfkjhsdkjfhsdf I LOVE doing that. MWAHAHAHAHAH

YES YOU COULD DEFINITELY BE MY ANON AHHHH NICE TO MEET YOU <3

[drakposting]

“Sort of wish Izuku would call out UA on it's actions regarding imprisoning and unethically testing him like some kind of animal, especially with someone like Nedzu who USED to be a test subject at the helm of the school. Feels like he is going along a little too calmly with the situation, even after I read more of the story ahead on your tumblr.” @sasquatch180-blog (pretty sure this is you, based on the fact that you followed the drakken claw blog)

thoughts under the cut, this got kind of long haha

after thinking this over for a night, the criticism about nedzu specifically has stuck with me. this is very helpful for where i intend to go with the story, actually, because up until now nedzu has, in my mind, been more-or-less central of opinion on the situation. that doesn’t really make sense with this in mind. now, i’ve already written out quite a bit more than is on my tumblr version of this, and i dont see myself going back through and revising so much of the story at this point simply because what’s written is written and i, uh, am not really being paid to do this or nothing... this is definitely something i’m going to keep in mind going into the future, though.

as for izuku’s calmness, it’s less that he’s unaffected and more that he’s been conditioned not to expect (good) things from strangers. he’s beyond scared, and afraid that if he makes the wrong move, they’ll rescind any freedoms he has as punishment. his dialogue being tame is something i understand as being a bit unrealistic, though, so perhaps i may edit in some remarks about him being careful to come off as polite, or at least, nonthreatening, in some of the earlier interactions.

speaking as someone whose experience is mostly in writing out worldbuilding concepts and plot ideas, the actual idea of writing prose - and especially, in this case, improvisation (some of this is thought-out, but i’m making up a lot of it as i go to stop myself from stressing too much, and to see if i can) - and posting it, is fairly new to me. this is the first time ive posted and advertised any prose ive written, so getting feedback is super helpful to me and my development in my tentative foray into this, so im sincerely grateful for constructive criticism like this. thank you!!!!!

[chickenkooks]

(1) sooooo... i went to your twitter and was laughing so much until i got to the tweets where you talk about the anons that criticize tra and i know that this one msg of support might not be enough when other anons are rude and bring you down without actual constructive criticism but i still want you to know that i really like your fic, mostly because i actually do have a good reading comprehension 😜 and the story is really interesting, most enemies to lovers are very anticlimatic

anonymous asked:

(2)because they “discover” that they love eachother so suddlenly and without actual build up and i feel that that ruins the entire story, meanwhile in tra we have the amazing “what you thought i loved you this whole time” oooooh boy i loved that!!! it made me yell out loud like yesssssss this is some good shit. gotta say that i was a bit dissapointed in y/n (not you obvs) for giving in i was expecting her to ignore him

anonymous asked:

(3)for a couple of days but after reading your reasoning on why she did it i was like “yea that makes sense” and now i’m more excited to see how everything plays out anyway… i just wanted to give you some encouraging words, i hope i didn’t bother you with so much text but i was too shy to tweet you >.

omg im so happy to hear that my tweets made u laugh!!!!! i mostly complain these days LMAO which u guys can follow me @ chickenkooks if u want ;-) but anyways LOL thank you so much for the support!!!!! i think i got over it mostly because what matters is the positive feedback. if i get mad at every negative thing someone says to me. i probably would just vanish off the face of the earth but theres many more of u that love n think positive things about the story!!!!! not to say i dont appreciate constructive criticism but constructive criticism is NOT negative. it offers advice or things someone didnt personally like and how i can fix that. complaining about how much u hate the characters is unhelpful. but also i agree 100% and i think thats why i wanted to write this story because i was sad of seeing this concept written like that!!!!!! theres a lot of stories that have great plots n concepts but it ends too soon!!!!!!!! no build-up!!!!!!!!!! if they get together soon, thatll be the end of the story n whats fun about a short story? i want to build it up as long as i can without it dragging out!!!!!!!