#this is not the first time this has happened. i have a bad habit of going 'LOL this sounds stupid lets do it'--

[star-eyed-angels]

The Masked Ballerina

Mafia!Yunho x ballerina!reader

angst, light fluff 6k

TW: mentions of fighting, abuse, violence, swearing, weapons. As usual, please let me know if I missed something.

Please read at your own discretion.

Where Yunho's search for excitement leads him to the Ballet.

AN: Heavily inspired by the Ice On My Teeth MV. In my mind this exists in the same universe as my Mafia!Hongjoong fic. The chess lore goes hard in this one. Enjoy lovelies 🤍

Also in case anyone cares, the song reader dances to is Masquerade Suite: Maskarad at about 1:18 is when Yunho starts tapping and 1:23 is when he sees their face

MASTERLIST

It’s very rare that Yunho goes out alone. Normally he travels with his guards, a new rule put in place after the Wooyoung incident. He understands its another layer of protection in case someone decides to get a little too close. especially if one of their enemies decides to put a hit out on him. Which of course has happened more times than he can count, but his guards don’t let anyone get within talking distance. It's always kind of fun to him. Watching some dumb soldier try to charge at him. Part of Yunho wishes his guards would just let them through. That way he could have a little fun. Just the thought makes his hands twitch. God is he aching for a good fight. But he knows that would never happen. They would never allow it. It’s their sole duty to protect him. One of their eight bosses who are far too precious to lose. 

Yunho sighs at the thought. His breath coming out in front of him in the cold night air. He knows it's silly to want to get into a bit of trouble. With the power he holds he should be excited at the people who bow before him. But he can't help but want something more. A change of pace. Like tonight and his new habit of sneaking out once he knows the others are busy or sleeping. It started on a whim, his restlessness driving him over the edge. It was normally pretty bad, but this night he swore if he didn’t do something he would go insane. He found himself creeping down the hallway, waiting for just the right moment when he knew the guards would step away before making a dash to the street. He spent the next few hours wandering the city. The solitude was refreshing, not having anyone hovering over him. While it gave him a little rush the first few weeks , the thrill has already started to fade. His little nights out becoming something too close to a routine. 

He’s done his best to spice it up a bit, trying to find different routes. But with legs as long as his, there’s only so much he can do before he’s seen it all. The more he dwells on it, the worse he starts to feel. He tugs the hood of his sweater farther over his head, huffing in annoyance. With his mood slowly souring, he thinks it’s best to run back home. He finds himself turning towards the dark alley. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that he gravitates towards the shadows. He’s always been his skill, hiding in the shadows until he strikes. Of course nowadays he’s more of a boss, giving people his orders. And while it’s nice, can anyone really blame him for missing the action? I mean he’d even be happy to even do a simple hit. Give him a rookie task, hell he’ll take anything at this point. He realizes he sounds a bit like an addict. But God would it kill to have just a bit of excitement in his life? 

He turns to walk into the alley. He's so distracted he doesn't pay attention to the figure hiding in the shadows. 

“Hold it.” a voice calls out.

He’s pinned swiftly against a wall. A small breath knocked out of him, as he stumbles into it.

Yunho looks down to see a gun pointed at his chest. He’s so caught off guard it takes him a second to register what he’s looking at. His eyes trail up the arm holding the gun, finding a masked figure in front of him. At Least a head shorter than him and clearly in way over their head. 

He looks up at the sky, a baffled smile finding its way onto his face.

This isn’t what I meant.

If Yunho didn’t know any better he’d think he’s in a comedy movie. One where he’s the bud of all the jokes. 

“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you,”

Ah yes the tiny thief. 

Yunho looks back down, the person digging the gun into his chest. He only blinks in response.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” they snap, “Just give me your money and no one has to get hurt.”

Yunho grabs the hand holding the gun, nudging it out of the way. 

“I don’t have any money. Now if you’ll excuse me-” he starts to say, but is swiftly cut off.

“What? Are you stupid, I said-”

Yunho rolls his eyes, any other night he’d probably entertain the idea of a brawl. But tonight he’s tired and just wants to be back home. This person clearly either doesn’t know what they’re getting themselves into. He supposes it’s the plain clothes he chose to wear out that make him somewhat unrecognizable. That and the fact that he doesn’t have his usual entourage hanging around him. 

Before they can get another word out he grips their arm, raising the gun up to the sky. He tugs the thief towards him, forcing them to stumble into his chest. They gasp in shock, grip loosening on the gun with the movement. Yunho pulls it away with ease, disarming it and dropping the remaining bullet in a single breath.

“What the fuck,” the masked figure says, clearly bewildered.

They look up, staring wide eyed up at him. It’s only then that Yunho takes notice of their eyes. One a normal color. And the other a stark contrast. Gray in color, mirroring the dark clouds above the pair. The snow continues to fall around the two, silence filling the air. It's in this brief moment that he’s able to really look at them. In the small window of the ski mask he sees the bruises around their eye, the skin clearly swollen and discolored with a black eye. It's easy enough to guess that a person must have given it to them, he’s seen enough beatings to know. As bad as he feels, he doesn’t have the energy for this. 

“Look. It’s been a long day. I’m tired,” he starts softly. 

Yunho calmly lowers their arm, dropping the gun into their open palm. He takes a step backwards, de-escalating the situation. 

“I’m just trying to go home,” 

The thief looks down at the gun in their hand briefly. They glance back up at him, eyes now teary. 

Yunho gives them a tight lipped smile, gently letting them go. He walks past them, the thief, turns only able to watch in shocked silence. Yunho only makes it a few steps away before he feels the need to stop. He can’t explain it, but there’s a nagging tug he feels in his mind. 

He turns to face the thief, who stands there silently, still watching him. They somehow look smaller like this, vulnerable, defeated. He thinks back to the bruising he saw underneath the mask. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know something is more is going on than just a petty crime. 

“For what it’s worth, I hope whatever it is you’re going through gets better,” he says sincerely. 

Despite the actions of the masked figure, he understands what it’s like. Desperation is an old friend of his. A friend that led him down an uncertain path, that thankfully ended in his favor. But he knows it isn't that way for everyone. He gives them one last smile, hoping it conveys more than what his words would.

“Have a good night”. 

With that he turns around continuing to walk down the alley. The thief continues to watch him go, watching him disappear into the cold night.

Yunho’s walks don’t last another week. He’d been able to squeeze in two more days of walking before he’d given up. Far too bored. The short-lived adventure was nice while it lasted. But again he finds himself looking for something else, something outside of his normal routine. 

That's how he finds himself squished into a small seat, front row to a ballet Jongho had been begging to see. Something very common for their household. He’d only tagged along because Seonghwa had to miss it, a last minute meeting with Hongjoong and another group.

And while this isn’t his usual thing, he will admit the show is quite good. To his right, San is clearly not as impressed, He’s only become more restless as the first hour passed by. Now practically squirming in his seat. He leans forward in his seat, glancing around at the others.

“Do we have to sit through this whole thing?” San asks, doing a poor job at whispering. 

“Shhh,” Jongho says from his left side. 

“Is it at least almost over?” he prods.

“Shhh!” Jongho shushes, louder than the first time. 

“But it's boring,” he says, having given up on whispering all together. 

Jongho leans forward in his own seat, shooting daggers at San. 

“It’s not boring, you just don’t know how to appreciate art,” he snaps. He gives one last glare before turning his attention back to the stage. Mingi snickers from his seat on San’s right. 

San pouts, sulking back into his seat. Yunho can’t help but smile at the exchange. He nudges his shoulder, leaning closer to him. 

“Lighten up, it’s not that bad. I’m sure you can find some part of it to enjoy,” Yunho whispers. Mingi grins leaning over as well. 

“The dancers are quite pretty," he says, nodding towards the stage.

Yunho rolls his eyes as San perks up at the mention of the dancers. It’s like he’s just noticed their existence after the past hour. 

“Not what I meant, but to each their own I guess,” he chuckles quietly.

San pays him no mind. Now hyper focused on the performance, or performers, in front of him. 

Yunho watches the dancers, enjoying how easily their movements flow with the music. He recalls the dream his teenage self had of dancing. He was quite good at it too. He even had a scholarship waiting for him, hell he’d all been packing to leave for school. But alas life doesn’t turn out the way it does in movies, now does it? 

A series of hiccups and stumbling led him to where he is now. One eighth of the biggest family in the country. A rook in a set so carefully crafted, that nothing could stand in its way. Never in his life did he think he’d end up here. But when he glances on either side of him, seeing his brothers makes him think that there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Despite the performance in front of him, he finds his mind wandering, still longing for something new. Anything really. He knows he sounds ungrateful, bratty even. But goddamn would it be nice for a sliver of excitement. 

Fate is funny with her timing as per usual. Clearly having enough of Yunho’s whining she’s intending to smack Yunho right in the face with his desires.

At that moment the dancers step forward right to the edge of the stage. Bodies dipping into a bow with the sway of the music. The costumes glint with the stage lights, drawing Yunho’s attention back to the present. 

Yunho ignores the low whistles undoubtedly from San and MIngi. He does his best to refocus on the performance. He taps his fingers along to the music, counting the beats of the dance in his head. 

It truly is comical the way the way the music builds, unknowingly leading Yunho to his fate. 

The dancers look up at the next beat and Yunho comes face to face with the person in front of him. A ballerina with an eye color that wouldn’t shock anyone, if it weren’t for the other resembling dark storm clouds in the sky. A set of eyes that he’s only seen once, but he could never forget. Yunho feels his heart skip a beat, a small smile tugging at his lips at the memory.

Now this is exciting.

Yunho also takes notice that the bruising is nowhere in sight. Aside for some light swelling, it’s practically invisible. He presumes it’s whatever makeup and other styling that’s required for the show. The dancer takes no notice of Yunho, clearly engulfed in the performance. In three beats the dancer is off, prancing to the other end of the stage. Yunho’s eyes now glued to them. A moth to a flame, a spark. 

Yunho continues to watch, taking notice of the way they glide. As if they were a wind up toy, made only to dance across the stage. The costume only adds to the image. While Yunho knows each costume is made to fit like a glove for every performer, this one is different. For this ballerina it doesn’t appear to be made, but to simply be a part of them. Everything about the way they bring the performance to life looks so effortless. This clearly suits them, in his opinion. 

The performance ends in a flourish, the audience erupting into a deafening applause. The dancers gather on stage, taking their final bows. Yunho glances on either side of him. Jongho no doubt will stop the conductor and offer his appreciation. San and MIngi both speak in hushed whispers, already planning their approach with whatever dancer that's caught their eye. But Yunho only has eyes for one dancer. He easily slips away from the others, off to meet his masked ballerina. 

“That bastard, that’s what he did to you?” Minji asks, turning your face in her hands gently. 

When you’d removed your makeup she’d all but elbowed her way through the others leaving for the night. She’d all but dragged you into her own dressing room, a murderous look in her eye as she scanned your face. After a bit of fussing, you reluctantly tell her about your interaction with your director. How after a bit of back and forth he’d swung his fist, leaving you with a swollen eye. if looks could kill, you’d swear Mr.Hak would be dead if he were in the room with the way Minji glares. You’d done your best to hide it from her, knowing she’d react this way. 

You grab her hands, pulling them away from you. 

“I’ll be fine, it’s nothing a little makeup can’t fix,” you say calmly.

She makes a face immediately, a lecture forming on the tip of her tongue.

“I know what you’re going to say. But you know I can’t leave. Not yet at least.

“I know. But that doesn’t mean you let him do this to you either y/n,” she says bitterly. 

“It was my fault, I kept pushing it and-” you don’t get to finish, Minji cutting you off.

“Like hell it was! I don’t give a fuck how long he’s been in charge, Hak has no right to be doing this to anyone,” she fumed, face growing red with each word. 

"Minji. I promise I’m okay,” You say soothingly. She sighs, taking a few calming breaths. 

“At Least let me give you something. I don’t have much, but hopefully the money will help you out,” she says, starting to walk towards her bag. You grimace, the thought of taking from her when she’s struggling just as much as you makes you feel sick. 

“You will do no such thing,” you say. You walk over to her, stopping her from looking through it.

“But-”

“I’ll find a way to make it work. You know I always do,” you say, giving her a small smile. Minji contemplates, before giving in.

“Fine, but please tell me if you need help. And I don’t care who he thinks he is, you say the word and I’ll kick his ass myself,” She says. 

That gets you to laugh, rolling your eyes. 

When you first started, you'd learned rather quickly that Minji was hot-headed. Fierce in a way that you weren’t. You think perhaps that is why she befriended you so quickly, sensing you’d need a backbone of a friend. Minji was like an older sister. Someone who wanted the best for you, even if her way of showing it could be a little over the top. But you loved her regardless. 

“Thank you Minji, really,” you say, pulling her into a hug. She hugs you back, holding you close. 

“Okay, well I’m heading out hun,” she says, letting you go. She slings her bag over her shoulder.  

“Get home safe,” you say, opening the door for her. She flips the lights off, leading you back out into the hallway. 

“You too. Don't stay here too long,” she says, giving you a pointed look. 

“I won't,” you say.

You walk her until you reach the door to your dressing room. She stops, turning to give you one final hug. With one last squeeze, you let her go. She gives you a final wave, before turning and leaving. 

When she’s out of sight, you sigh, shoulders dropping. You’re quiet as you open the door to your dressing room. You flick on one of the smaller switches, the lights of your vanity illuminating the room. 

You walk over, dropping yourself into the seat unceremoniously. You glance at yourself in the mirror, looking over the black eye for what feels like the hundredth time. The memory of that night, playing in your head like a loop. When you’d first graduated from your arts program you’d been so excited to start your career. It had been hell to make it through. Your heterochromia made it a nightmare to be a dancer. Every audition and casting left you feeling defeated. Each director or choreographer turning you away due to your condition. You’d had to claw your way to performing on a stage, fighting tooth and nail to just be given a chance. It was exhausting but it was worth it. Or at least you thought it was. 

Now as you stare at yourself in the mirror, the version that stares back at you is almost unrecognizable. How could you have ended up here? This couldn’t possibly be what life had in store for you, could it? Suffering for the sake of doing what you love? You could already see the way this vicious cycle was eating away at you. Cracking your soul into pieces bit by bit. You needed to get out. But only a miracle could save you at this point. 

You shake your head, doing your best to shake the thoughts with it. You lean down, tugging the shoes off your feet, and the tights along with them. You groan as you sit back up, muscles still sore from the performance. With a small grunt, you take the last bit of your outfit off, throwing the top to one of the chairs across the room. This late in the night you know you’re one of the only people left in the building, leaving no reason for you to rush to get dressed. You pull your robe down from the corner of the vanity, sliding it onto your shoulders. 

“That was a lovely performance,” a voice calls out, making you jump out of your skin.

You whip around clutching your robe closed as tightly as possible. 

A figure emerges from the shadows slowly, coming to stand a few feet in front of you. 

In the dimly lit room, you can make out the features of a man. He easily towers over you, dressed in all black like a shadow come to life. 

You recognize him as one of the men you tried to rob a few nights back. It takes you a second, with his appearance being a stark contrast to the man who stumbled upon you in the alleyway. Here he looks put together, black suit, hair pushed back, and expensive watch gleaming on his wrist. It's then you take notice of the insignia on his coat. The A against his heart is simple. A circle surrounding it, stitched in a darker shade of black. But the sight still makes your blood run cold. 

Holy shit, you’d tried to rob a member of Ateez, the most powerful family in the country. As if your luck couldn’t get any worse. Part of you wants to laugh at the entire situation, but the fear you feel keeps you rooted in place, scrambling for any escape.

“I didn’t think ballerinas were the type for armed robbery,” he hums thoughtfully. 

You subtly shift your hand to the side of your chair, fingers trembling as you reach under the armrest. 

“This is a private dressing room, you need to leave,” you say, doing your best to appear calm. 

The man hums, reaching into his pocket. He pulls his hand out, holding it in front of him. 

“Looking for this?” he asks.

Your heart sinks at the sight of your knife in his hand. He twirls it with ease, flicking it open to insect the blade. You press your hands into your thighs, swallowing nervously. 

“Please, I’m sorry. I don’t want any trouble,” your voice trembles as you stare up at him. He turns his attention back to you, taking in your fearful demeanor. 

He smiles, making a show of closing the knife slowly. He carefully sets the knife down on the shelf beside him, being slow in his movements. You eye it suspiciously, glancing between him and the knife.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk,” he says calmly.

You nod slowly, still eyeing him warily. He nods back, still keeping his distance. 

“Do you know who I am?” he asks. 

Of course you know. Everyone in the country knows his name along with the other seven. The rook who stands in front of you is not to be messed with. 

“Jeong Yunho,” you answer.

The way you say his name sends a bit of a thrill through him. He likes the ways it rolls off your lips. 

“Hmm so you do know my name,” he says tilting his head to the side.

You can only give him a small nod. He begins to walk around the room examining the interior as he goes. You can’t help but keep your eyes trained on him. While he promised not to hurt you, you’d be stupid not to be on guard.

“Did you know who I was the other night?” he prods. 

“No,” you answer quickly. You were desperate, but not desperate enough to mess with him. You curse your past self for being so oblivious. He chuckles, the sounds sending a shiver down your spine. 

“It takes guts to step to a man twice your size like that,” he says, recalling your stupidity. He turns his sharp gaze towards you, further pinning you to your spot. 

“But considering I can see the way you're shaking, I think there’s something else,” he says.

“What were you looking for when you came at me?” 

“Nothing, I- I wasn’t looking for anything I swear,” you say a little too quickly. 

Yunho glances at your swollen eye, letting out a sigh. He knows you’re lying, but he can’t blame you. There was no doubt he was a man to be feared, but right now he needed you to trust him. 

“Look. I can tell you’re smart. So I know you wouldn’t have just decided to mug a stranger for fun,” he says, coming to stand in front of you once again. 

“So what is it that you need, sweetheart?” He says softly. 

You contemplate answering him. If he were here to hurt you, he would have done it already. He clearly wasn’t the type of man to waste his time. Despite your better judgement you choose to trust him. 

“Money. I needed money,” you say quietly.

He tilts his head thoughtfully. The movement kind of reminds you of a puppy. If you weren’t partly terrified, you’d think it looks kinda cute in a way. 

“You don't make enough, dancing?” he asks curiously. 

“No, not really,” you say, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. 

“And the black eye, is that part of it?”

You freeze, looking at him in fear. Instinctively you wrap your arms around the edges of your robe, tucking it tightly against you. He notices the way you curl in on yourself. His gaze softens, offering you a sympathetic smile. 

“I’m not here to judge you,” he says softly. 

“They’re from the director,” you confess, quietly. He nods in understanding. He hesitates clearly wanting to say more. After a moment he clears his throat.  

“May I?” he asks, nodding towards your face. 

You think for a moment, before giving him a small nod.

He’s careful as he steps forward, doing his best not to startle you. He leans down, one hand coming to lean against the back of your chair. You feel goosebumps rise against your skin, as he lowers himself to be eye level with you. His other grabs your face gently, tilting your face from one side to the other. He’s delicate with the way he handles you. Strong hand gentle as he holds your chin with his fingers.

“He did this to you?” He asks finally, warm voice fanning across your face. 

“Yes,” you answer, scared to speak too loudly. You feel your skin grow warm the longer he scans over your face. His cologne invades your sense with the proximity, it feels intoxicating in a way you can’t describe. 

His face hardens, a look of anger flashing across his features. It scares you for a moment. But something about the look makes you want to soothe him.

“I asked for more after our last performance. He usually never aims for the face. I just wouldn’t drop it,” you explain, thinking back to a few nights ago. 

Yunho is quiet, eyes scanning over the marks carefully. A fierce need to protect you burning inside him. He can’t explain it, but there’s something drawing him to you.There’s something about you he just can’t shake. A pull so strong, he doesn’t think he could fight it if he tried. Though he doesn’t think he’d want to anyways. He also takes the time to really look at you, finding you even more attractive up close. He’s already seen your eyes, but seeing them up close and personal, he can’t help but find them more alluring. After another moment of admiring you, he lets your face go, still keeping his proximity. 

“Is it just you? Or are there others?” he asks.

“A few. Most of them quit before the first season is up. But some of us can’t,” you answer.

He only nods, clearly thinking something over. The gears turn in his head quickly, looking for a solution to your problems. After a moment, you see a twinkle appear in his eye. A mischievous twinkle that excites you, if you're honest with yourself.

“What’s your name?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Y/n,” you say softly.

“Y/n”, he repeats. 

The way your name drips from his lips, sends a jolt through you. 

“Will you let me help you, Sweetheart?” he asks. 

You don’t know what it is about him, but you find yourself trusting him. How crazy it is to trust a man like him. He could hurt you, with a snap of his fingers you’d be destroyed in an instant. But he could also be your miracle. You suppose you have nothing more to lose at this point.

You give him another nod, this one determined. 

“Good,” 

“Come with me,” he says, offering his hand out to you. 

Going against every rational part of your brain, you take it. His hand is warm in yours. Something about it feels right, his larger hand holding yours ever so gently. Yunho thinks the same as he looks down at you. He’s so used to holding weapons, things that cause pain. But your hand fits so perfectly in his. Like it’s natural, like it was made to be there. He gently pulls you up from your seat, ready to take his new found excitement into action. 

“Come in,” a voice barks out from the door in front of you. 

You grimace, glancing at the men behind you. Yunho stands with three of the other members of Ateez, who you were introduced to. After getting dressed, Yunho led you to the others, who all looked at you with curious gazes. From there he had explained his crazy plan to all of you. Or at least you thought it was crazy. The other three didn’t even bat an eye. Jongho even looked excited, beaming at the plan laid before him. 

Yunho looks down at you as you give him a small nod to enter. You open the door, walking inside. The other three follow you in. Mr Hak, your company director doesn’t bother looking up. He continues going through the work in front of him, only pausing to take another drag of his cigarette. The door clicks shut behind the last member. 

“Who is it?” he barks out again.

“It’s y/n, sir,” you say, eyeing the men behind you again. 

Your boss scoffs, rolling his eyes at the sound of your voice. 

“This shit again. Look I already told you, you work for me got that? Everything you make comes to me. I own you. Now get out of my office before I-” he starts, voice booming in the small office.

He finally looks up, mid rant, doing a double take at the scene before him. His face goes pale at the sight of you and the four men that tower behind you. You don’t blame him. The sight of them had you shaking where you stood. 

“Gentlemen, what a surprise. To-” he pauses, having enough sense to extinguish the cigarette.

He stumbles out of his chair, hastily coming to the front of his desk. He clears his throat as he does it, clumsily dropping into a deep bow.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asks nervously. 

They take over easily, polite smiles on their faces. 

“Mr Hak, is it?” Yunho starts, eyeing the man before him.

“We just wanted to stop by. And bring our praises for the show,” he says adding a touch of sweetness to his voice. 

“Yes, a spectacular performance indeed,” Jongho says, clapping his hands together. 

“Thank you, we do our best,” Mr Hak says, sounding far too prideful. The response makes you roll your eyes. 

Jongho hums, eyes sharp as he watches Mr. Hak. 

“Of course. And that’s why we’re glad to be buying it off of you,” he says casually. 

You do your best to hide the smug grin at the way your boss reacts. 

“Buying?” he asks, clearly confused.

“Yes the theater, the shows, the performers. All of it. 

“While I appreciate the offer, it's not for sale,” he chuckles. 

“Nonsense,” San says, stepping forward. 

He stalks towards Mr. Hak’s desk. Confidence leaking through each of his strides. 

“I think you’ll find we’ve arranged a rather gracious deal, isn’t that right Mingi?” he states, glancing over at the taller member. Mingi hums in agreement, coming to stand next to San. Similar to Yunho, he towers over everyone with ease. The closer he gets, the more Mr. Hak shrinks in his spot. With the four in front of him he’s easily surrounded. Like an animal cornered. 

“We have, but if you feel as though it needs some rearranging we could always have Hongjoong Hyung stop by. I’m sure he can squeeze in a few moments with his busy schedule,” his voice calm, but the implication clear. 

You swear you see your boss’ heart stop as his eyes go wide. He lets out a nervous laugh, quickly waving his hands in front of him. 

“That won’t be necessary,” he says quickly. 

Smart choice, you think to yourself. Even an asshole like him wouldn’t be stupid enough to go against what the men behind you ask. Especially Kim Hongjoong of all people. There was no dealing with Kim Hongjoong. You’d heard the stories of those he visited, none had ever lived to tell of their exchange. That thought sends a shiver of fear through you. 

“Good, then we have a deal,” Jongho says, clearly ending the conversation. 

“Our men will escort you out,” he says, snapping his fingers. The door opens once again. Two guards walk in calmly, looking to the trio for orders. 

“See to it that Mr. Hak collects all his belongings,” San orders, no longer smiling. 

“He should have no need to return to this building after tonight,” Yunho adds, throwing a pointed look at your ex-boss.  

The guards nod, moving towards your Mr.Hak quickly. With orders in place, the others begin to file out of the room. 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Jongho calls out over his shoulder, continuing to walk out without a second glance. 

Yunho sets his hand on your shoulder, nodding towards the door. You follow him and the others out of the room. You glance back to see Mr. Hak warily eyeing the guards. You continue watching until the door to the office closes behind you. 

The members continue walking down out into the foyer of the theater, .leading you outside

“So you’re really buying the theater?,” you ask, breaking the silence. 

Jongho shugs, glancing up at the bright sign above the building. He has a soft glance in his eye as he eyes the theater appreciatively.

“I practically come here every other week, it was bound to happen eventually,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. 

“Will you close it?,” you ask warily.

“Of course not,” he chuckles. 

“And the other performers?,” you probe, Minji crossing your mind along with all the others, 

“They’re jobs are safe, they will have the choice to stay or seek employment elsewhere. But no one will be forced to leave, you have our word,” Yunho says, soothing your worries. 

You nod, letting out a shaky exhale. For the first time in months things were looking up for you. You were free of Mr. Hak, and you could continue to do what you love without being miserable. 

“I can’t possibly thank you enough,” you say, emotion creeping into your voice. 

You bow to them, taking a moment to wipe at the tears building in your eyes. The four smile at you, being unable to find you anything but adorable. 

“We're not as scary as we look,” San says, throwing his arm around you in a friendly manner.  “Well except maybe Mingi,” he says, glancing at the taller man. Mingi glares, reaching over to swat at him. San ducks out of the way, moving between Yunho and Jongho. 

The action causes you to giggle. Maybe they were right about not being as scary as they look. Something about their presence felt comforting. Part of you wished you could get to know them a little more.  

“So I guess this is goodbye then?” you ask somewhat disappointed.

“Well we do own the theater now, so we’ll be seeing you around,” Yunho says a little too quickly. You don’t notice the way his ears grow red at his mini outburst. The others do. Each of them giving each other knowing glances as they slowly make their way further down the street. Yunho mentally facepalms, knowing he’s never going to hear the end of this later. The next moment makes it worth it however.  

You laugh, the twinkling sound making Yunho’s heart race in his chest. God was he screwed. 

“I suppose that’s true,” you hum in agreement, a knowing look in your eyes. Something about seeing the tall man bush had the butterflies fluttering even harder in your stomach. 

“So I’ll see you around?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“I look forward to it,” you say, smiling brightly. With that you turn and walk down the street. You offer goodbyes to the others, before making your way across the street, an extra skip in your step. Yunho watches you go, content to watch you leave. Something telling him the adrenaline he feels is here to stay.

[skimmingmilk]

i've just found out your tumblr has even MORe picket fence writing and im over the moon?? But also my heart was shattered with the back in time wip 😭😭😭 how does sonic find the strength to leave baby tails behind, how does he react when he sees tails again in his own timeline after having met sick abandoned baby tails??

Heheheh, yeah, there are some little fics or scenes I've written that I hesitate to put on AO3 sometimes (or just aren't complete enough to be a story on their own), so I like to throw them at Tumblr from time to time. Glad you found them! :D

Ohh, the back in time WIP... Not sure how much I can give away because of the chance that it's going to end up part of a bigger fic... but it'll still be a long while until I get around to posting that xD Maybe people will forget lol.

Potential future spoilers under the cut?

So! The way I see it playing out is that Sonic is going to find it in him to leave baby Tails behind because he knows they'll cross paths one day, the way they're supposed to and everything will play out from there. He knows he can't stay in the past and he can't take baby Tails to his present. Plus, Silver's with him and it probably wouldn't go over well to try and explain why it'd be a good idea to take baby Tails with him when it would negate pretty much everything Sonic and Tails experienced together since meeting on West Side Island or cause a split in the timeline where now there's a universe where Sonic never got to meet Tails because he wasn't there and now Sonic's time with have two Tailses. He knows that it can't happen.

But... Sonic still can't stop wondering about the little guy. Is he cold? Is he scared? Is he getting enough to eat? Is he lonely? Hurt? All the things he's not letting himself think about when it comes to his Tails (the 10 year old who's on his first solo adventure and basically gone as close to no contact as possible in order to "prove himself"). He projects all that onto the baby version of him because he knows Tails can handle himself (and that's not why he's worried about him, what he's uncomfortable with is the motive behind the journey). So he gets his hands on two Chaos Emeralds and goes back to check on baby Tails by himself. Just this once.

Except it doesn't end up being just once. Because there is this disconnect and distance between Sonic and Tails of the present, doubts that have arisen in the wake of Forces, Frontiers, and now Tails's absence, Sonic's drawn more and more to the past. Baby Tails smiles and laughs and he doesn't pull away from him and he likes to play and explore and he still needs him. It's just so easy for Sonic to make him feel better. Just by being there.

Also, because this is after Frontiers, going through cyberspace and the cyber corruption has opened the gates to Sonic's memories a bit and they're kind of leaking into his thoughts more and more. He's falling into the habit of ruminating, reliving moments and questioning choices he made, things he might've done wrong, could've done better. So that maybe Tails wouldn't feel like he needs to become a completely different person.

Present Tails won't listen to him, but baby Tails hangs onto every word. So maybe by being there... Tails might remember being loved and maybe the 10 year old won't only see the worst parts of himself when he looks in the mirror if Sonic can try again and show the younger version that he's worth something just as he is.

I think Sonic crosses paths with present Tails twice during all of this. The first conversation goes okay, but there's an awkwardness to it. But Sonic does try to make an effort to be more open with Tails in the hopes that maybe it will set a better example. And Tails is surprisingly receptive to it. So Sonic resolves to not go back to the past, because Tails seems to be doing okay after all. And he's reminded that he loves who his little brother is now. The good and the bad made him who he is, and would he really want to change that? Of course not!

Unfortunately, the second conversation doesn't go nearly as well...

So Sonic goes back to see baby Tails in the wake of it - not because he needs it, but because Tails clearly does - but when he arrives, the forest is burning and he can't find Tails anywhere...

[robinmage]

about this time of year, 6 years ago, an english cover of 'here' popped up in my Spotify discover weekly. I listened to it for months before finally looking into where it came from.

"this sounds sus as hell," I told myself after reading the synopsis of the anime. "but I'm bored, and this sounds like something I can watch purely to ridicule and laugh at. fuck it, let's do it"

I watched the anime in-between classes and finished it in 2 days. I finished the manga (at the time) within the week.

and I'm still here 6 years later, so.

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[aria0fgold]

WAIT! WAIT WAIT! I'm getting notifications in the browser tumblr again??? It's happening yall, it's happening!!! IT'S HAPPENING! MY TUMBLR BROWSER IS FIXING ITSELF THANK THE STAAARRRSSS!!!

[afniel]

Maaaaaaaaaaaan, come on.

(the post has ended up in the tags btw. I am not changing this and I need you to understand that it is just me talking to myself semi-publicly)

[girlivealwaysbean]

it's so weird when once what was a very important exciting day becomes just another day insignificant and meaningless

[androidboy]

-

[touchlikethesun]

despite the current state of things, good things have in fact happened. if they’ve happened in the past, they can and they will happen again.

[sysig]

I thought I was done being feral about Tamagotchis but no, it was just a lull

[the-bluestreak-cat]

I think it’s the seasonal darkness but this dental stuff feels like the last straw

[birdyaviary]

it's because nomura is working on it

Okay, so: the premise of the Final Fantasy VII remake is that the audience's demand for the remake to follow exactly the same plot as the original has manifested as a horde of evil ghosts who intervene in order to keep the story on the expected rails, with a particular emphasis on ensuring that characters in the remake die at the same times and under the same circumstances as their original counterparts. At the end of the remake's first instalment, Cloud and friends fight and defeat the king of the Evil Plot Ghosts, an act which breaks time and creates a multiverse where everybody's fanfic is real. Sephiroth subsequently merges with all the fanfic versions of himself and becomes some sort of fucked up metanarrative god. Later, Cloud simultaneously succeeds and fails in preventing Aerith's death, which partially dislocates him from the prime narrative reality, and he begins perceiving an adjacent fixit-fic universe where Zack never died. The Aerith of that universe then teams up with Cloud to fight Hyperdimensional Meta Bullshit Sephiroth, a battle that ends inconclusively when Sephiroth flees, stranding Zack-lives-universe Aerith in the prime narrative reality, though only Cloud can see her. The game closes with the revelation that, unbeknownst to everyone else, Sephiroth slipped the Black Materia into Cloud's pocket during their fight, setting in motion the events of the unpublished third instalment. Have I got all that straight?

[justabunchofdragons]

whats he that wishes so? my cousin westmoreland? no, cuz i pray thee wish not one man more! if we are marked to die, we are enough to do our country loss.. but if to live! the fewer men, the greater share.. of honour :) god's will i pray thee wish not one man more... 🤭 rather, proclaim it westmoreland, through my host, that he which hath no stomach to this fight.. let him depart! his passport shall be made and crowns for convoy put into his purse. we would not Die in that man's company that fears his fellowship to die with us. by jove, i am not covetous for gold, nor care i who doth feed upon my cost but if it was a sin to covet honour then i am the most offending soul alive!!! this day is called the feast of crispian. he that outlives this day and comes safe home shall stand at tip toe when this day is named!! old men forget, yet all shall be forgot but he'll remember with advantages what FEATS he did that day. and our names, familiar in their mouths as household words - "harry, the king, (🤭) bedford and exeter, warwick and salisbury" - be in their flowing cups Freshly Remembered!! and then he shall strip his sleeve and show his scars and say "these wounds i had on crispins day :)" ne'er shall this day go by from this day to the Ending of the World, but we in it shall be remembered. we few 😇☺. we happy few, we band of brothers - for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother! - be he ne'er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition! and gentlemen in england now abed shall think themselves ACCURSED they were not here, and hold their manhoods CHEAP whiles any speaks that fought with us, upon saint crispins day!!!!!! 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥👍

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

I love your work, could you please write a viktor x reader who takes care of him. like makes sure he eats, they make baked goods for him or make him go to bed in time. I think it would be cute

Heyo! Sure I can, even if it’s been a while since I wrote for Viktor (or anything) lmao

Caretaker!Reader

Viktor takes well enough care of himself, to his own standards

So we all know he can use a little more help and a little helping hand

I think Viktor is pretty independent so it takes a lot out of him to even be able to do this kind of intimate thing with you

If he does, it takes a lot of vulnerability as you would see him at his lowest

There have been times where he probably refused and would try and get out of any situation where you found out he needed help and to be taken care of

He doesn’t want to bother you or anything when he deems it able to be done by himself

It takes a while for him to be comfortable enough with you and your relationship to let himself be vulnerable in that way

As he has never done this kind of thing with anyone else before

But once it happens, trust me, you’re golden

I think he does like sweets and baked goods, so to have you bring him any on a whim and not because you have to, but because you care warms his heart absolutely

He often forgets to take care of himself and his basic needs, like eating and stuff like that for his experiments and research

So he relies on you for that a little bit once he knows you will always be there for him

He loves when you cook or bake for him and knowing it’s so he knows he’s taken care of makes each bite better than the last

At first when you attempted to get him on some sort of decent sleep schedule, he resisted

He went to bed whenever, or whenever his research was done or he passed out and often it was in the lab or at his desk or in the middle of his studying at the table

SOO you would often have to bring him to bed yourself

Once you wore him down enough, he acted like you won

You thought you did until you found out he was just waiting till you fell asleep and slipped out off bed, and slipped back in just before you woke up and pretended to wake up beside you

You had to scold him probably, or it was some sort of argument

He realized you just wanted him to be healthy, and for him to be well rested

Reluctantly, he began going to sleep with you and waking up beside you in the mornings

He found he actually did like this habit because sleeping beside you was surprisingly comforting

He loved hearing your breathing pattern as you fell asleep, and it helped him fall asleep to hear and feel your heart beating as you both snuggled to sleep

And he loved watching you wake up slowly in the mornings

It was all worth it

One thing he was very stubborn about you not doing was taking care of his leg I think

Probably because he feels as his sort of disability is a bother enough, he doesn’t want you to be burdened with it

He probably thinks that if you see that part of him, you’ll think he’s not worth it and leave

And that’s not the case

He only finds out on a particularly harsh day when it hurt so bad, and it was so sore all he could do was want to fall asleep and alleviate the pain by any means

You maybe kissed his leg, maybe rubbed out the pain, maybe helped him in any way

But as you did it, he loved the feeling and could only watch you do so and the warm feeling in his chest never left

So, on the hard days, he would drop subtle hints that he wanted to be taken care of

Like subtly saying “oh, it just hurts, I have no clue how to fix it…” and wait for you to offer to rub it

I feel he likes being babied a little bit, but not to much

He doesn’t like being treated as glass or like he is incompetent

But he does love being taken care of by you

Be it food, tending to him or showering or making sure he is fed and clean

He loves showering with you

He loves having you wash his hair and the feelings of your hand in it or feeling you lather the soap on him while he just gets to relax and close his eyes and know your there

And that he’s able to soak in all the love

Obviously he returns it all in his own way but

It’s just all the love you pour in

[who-is-there]

I just started watching Dimension 20’s Fantasy high, halfway through sophomore year, and I do want a fic where people realise just how used to being part of a group the bad kids are. For example-

-I fully believe every single one of them is used to Riz climbing them so he can see better. It’s usually Gorgug, but it’s happened to all of them at some point. They might hold out their arm for him to jump onto a counter, or so he can pin a clue to his board. Before they all sit at a table, at least one of them makes sure their 4’4 friend can jump onto the table.

-Every single one of them has also caught Adaine after she had a vision. Sometimes she can just shake them off, but the big ones make her falter in what she’s doing, which can be dangerous. It happened once in a fight, and now the people standing closest to her are always ready.

-Fabian doesn’t really recognise he has a blind spot with his eye injury, because the others immediately clocked it. But this also means they walk in between him and the road, in case some idiot mounts the curb. They keep an eye on anything to his right, shifting drinks and pushing chairs if they can tell his depth perception is a little off.

-Fig usually stands in the middle of the group to intimidate people into not messing with them, so it’s sort of become habit to just crowd around her. After the battle, if no one’s seriously hurt or anything, everyone just wanders over to Fig. At this point, Fig is always the first one to yell out after a fight, just so they can regroup.

-Gorgug is the go-to for lap-sits, leaning, anything to do with being physically supported by another persons body. His hoodie is soft, and his headphones are loud enough that you can kind of hear it if you’re leaning on him. His parents weren’t great with nonchalant physical contact, in case he was already upset, so he takes great joy in his friends not being scared to hug him for fun.

-Kristin has left her staff at every single house she could with the bad kids. She leaves her bag in classrooms, the library, the cafeteria. Whenever the group leave somewhere, they do a full scan, because Kristin has probably left something and they grab it for her. No one has any clue who her bag actually belongs to, because all of the bad kids have been seen carrying it around school several times.

The school at large know who the bad kids are, and the town recognise them, but they still don’t know why all of them double check a room before leaving, or collectively carry a small stool around with them. One student with a fantasy iron deficiency faints in class and Kristin catches her before she hits the ground. Once, Fig isn’t in school for a day and all the bad kids have this restless energy about them. It is not uncommon to see them on the field during lunch, curled up in a pile on Gorgug. One guy tries to surprise Fabian from the right and gets body checked by Adaine before it even registers.

It’s sort of uncomfortable for everyone to see any of them without the others, because it means a) the rest of them committed a crime, b) the rest of them are committing a crime, or c) the rest of them are about to run in and start planning to commit a crime. And no one wants to lose their plausible deniability here.

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

“Show, Don’t Tell”…But This Time Someone Explains It

If you’ve ever been on the hunt for writing advice, you've definitely seen the phrase “Show, Don’t Tell.”

Writeblr coughs up these three words on the daily; it’s often considered the “Golden Rule” of writing. However, many posts don't provide an in-depth explanation about what this "Golden Rule" means (This is most likely to save time, and under the assumption that viewers are already informed).

More dangerously, some posts fail to explain that “Show, Don’t Tell” occasionally doesn’t apply in certain contexts, toeing a dangerous line by issuing a blanket statement to every writing situation. 

The thing to take away from this is: “Show, Don’t Tell” is an essential tool for more immersive writing, but don't feel like a bad writer if you can’t make it work in every scenario (or if you can’t get the hang of it!)

1. What Does "Show, Don't Tell" Even Mean?

“Show, Don’t Tell” is a writing technique in which the narrative or a character’s feelings are related through sensory details rather than exposition. Instead of telling the reader what is happening, the reader infers what is happening due to the clues they’ve been shown.

EXAMPLE 1:

Telling: The room was very cold. Showing: She shivered as she stepped into the room, her breath steaming in the air.

EXAMPLE 2:

Telling: He was furious. Showing: He grabbed the nearest book and hurled it against the wall, his teeth bared and his eyes blazing.

EXAMPLE 3 ("SHOW, DON'T TELL" DOESN'T HAVE TO MEAN "WRITE A LOT MORE")

Telling: The room hadn't been lived in for a very long time. Showing: She shoved the door open with a spray of dust.

Although the “showing” sentences don’t explicitly state how the characters felt, you as the reader use context clues to form an interpretation; it provides information in an indirect way, rather than a direct one.

Because of this, “Show, Don’t Tell” is an incredibly immersive way to write; readers formulate conclusions alongside the characters, as if they were experiencing the story for themselves instead of spectating. 

As you have probably guessed, “showing” can require a lot more words (as well as patience and effort). It’s a skill that has to be practiced and improved, so don’t feel discouraged if you have trouble getting it on the first try!

2. How Do I Use “Show, Don’t Tell” ?

There are no foolproof parameters about where you “show” and not “tell" or vice versa; it’s more of a writing habit that you develop rather than something that you selectively decide to employ.

In actuality, most stories are a blend of both showing and telling, and more experienced writers instinctively switch between one and another to cater to their narrative needs. You need to find a good balance of both in order to create a narrative that is both immersive and engaging.

i. Help When Your Writing Feels Bare-Bones/Soulless/Boring

Your writing is just not what you’ve pictured in your head, no matter how much you do it over. Conversations are stilted. The characters are flat. The sentences don’t flow as well as they do in the books you've read. What’s missing?

It’s possibly because you’ve been “telling” your audience everything and not “showing”! If a reader's mind is not exercised (i.e. they're being "spoon-fed" all of the details), your writing may feel boring or uninspired!

Instead of saying that a room was old and dingy, maybe describe the peeling wallpaper. The cobwebs in the corners. The smell of dust and old mothballs. Write down what you see in your mind's eye, and allow your audience to formulate their own interpretations from that. (Scroll for a more in-depth explanation on HOW to develop this skill!)

ii. Add More Depth and Emotion to Your Scenes

Because "Show, Don't Tell" is a more immersive way of writing, a reader is going to feel the narrative beats of your story a lot more deeply when this rule is utilized.

Describing how a character has fallen to their knees sobbing and tearing our their hair is going to strike a reader's heart more than saying: "They were devastated."

Describing blood trickling through a character's fingers and staining their clothes will seem more dire than saying: "They were gravely wounded."

iii. Understand that Sometimes Telling Can Fit Your Story Better

Telling can be a great way to show your characters' personalities, especially when it comes to first-person or narrator-driven stories. Below, I've listed a few examples; however, this list isn't exclusive or comprehensive!

Initial Impressions and Character Opinions

If a character describes someone's outfit as "gaudy" or a room as "absolutely disgusting," it can pack more of a punch about their initial impression, rather than describing the way that they react (and can save you some words!). In addition, it can provide some interesting juxtaposition (i.e. when a character describes a dog as "hideous" despite telling their friend it looks cute).

2. Tone and Reader Opinions

Piggybacking off of the first point, you can "tell, not show" when you want to be certain about how a reader is supposed to feel about something. "Showing" revolves around readers drawing their own conclusions, so if you want to make sure that every reader draws the same conclusion, "telling" can be more useful! For example, if you describe a character's outfit as being a turquoise jacket with zebra-patterned pants, some readers may be like "Ok yeah a 2010 Justice-core girlie is slaying!" But if you want the outfit to come across as badly arranged, using a "telling" word like "ridiculous" or "gaudy" can help set the stage.

3. Pacing

"Show, don't tell" can often take more words; after all, describing a character's reaction is more complicated than stating how they're feeling. If your story calls for readers to be focused more on the action than the details, such as a fight or chase scene, sometimes "telling" can serve you better than "showing." A lot of writers have dedicated themselves to the rule "tell action, show emotion," but don't feel like you have to restrict yourself to one or the other.

iv. ABOVE ALL ELSE: Getting Words on the Page is More Important!

If you’re stuck on a section of your story and just can’t find it in yourself to write poetic, flowing prose, getting words on the paper is more important than writing something that’s “good.” If you want to be able to come back and fix it later, put your writing in brackets that you can Ctrl + F later.

Keeping your momentum is the hardest part of writing. Don't sacrifice your inspiration in favor of following rules!

3. How Can I Get Better at “Show, Don’t Tell”?

i. Use the Five Senses, and Immerse Yourself!

Imagine you’re the protagonist, standing in the scene that you have just created. Think of the setting. What are things about the space that you’d notice, if you were the one in your character’s shoes?

Smell? Hear? See? Touch? Taste?

Sight and sound are the senses that writers most often use, but don’t discount the importance of smell and taste! Smell is the most evocative sense, triggering memories and emotions the moment someone walks into the room and has registered what is going on inside—don’t take it for granted. And even if your character isn’t eating, there are some things that can be “tasted” in the air.

EXAMPLE:

TELLING: She walked into the room and felt disgusted. It smelled, and it was dirty and slightly creepy. She wished she could leave. SHOWING: She shuffled into the room, wrinkling her nose as she stepped over a suspicious stain on the carpet. The blankets on the bed were moth-bitten and yellowed, and the flowery wallpaper had peeled in places to reveal a layer of blood-red paint beneath…like torn cuticles. The stench of cigarettes and mildew permeated the air. “How long are we staying here again?” she asked, flinching as the door squealed shut. 

The “showing” excerpt gives more of an idea about how the room looks, and how the protagonist perceives it. However, something briefer may be more suited for writers who are not looking to break the momentum in their story. (I.e. if the character was CHASED into this room and doesn’t have time to take in the details.)

ii. Study Movies and TV Shows: Think like a Storyteller, Not Just a Writer

Movies and TV shows quite literally HAVE TO "show, and not tell." This is because there is often no inner monologue or narrator telling the viewers what's happening. As a filmmaker, you need to use your limited time wisely, and make sure that the audience is engaged.

Think about how boring it would be if a movie consisted solely of a character monologuing about what they think and feel, rather than having the actor ACT what they feel.

(Tangent, but there’s also been controversy that this exposition/“telling” mindset in current screenwriting marks a downfall of media literacy. Examples include the new Percy Jackson and Avatar: The Last Airbender remakes that have been criticized for info-dumping dialogue instead of “showing.”)

If you find it easy to envision things in your head, imagine how your scene would look in a movie. What is the lighting like? What are the subtle expressions flitting across the actors' faces, letting you know just how they're feeling? Is there any droning background noise that sets the tone-- like traffic outside, rain, or an air conditioner?

How do the actors convey things that can't be experienced through a screen, like smell and taste?

Write exactly what you see in your mind's eye, instead of explaining it with a degree of separation to your readers.

iii. Listen to Music

I find that because music evokes emotion, it helps you write with more passion—feelings instead of facts! It’s also slightly distracting, so if you’re writing while caught up in the music, it might free you from the rigid boundaries you’ve put in place for yourself.

Here’s a link to my master list of instrumental writing playlists!

iv. Practice, Practice, Practice! And Take Inspiration from Others!

“Show Don’t Tell” is the core of an immersive scene, and requires tons of writing skills cultivated through repeated exposure. Like I said before, more experienced writers instinctively switch between showing and telling as they write— but it’s a muscle that needs to be constantly exercised!

If I haven’t written in a while and need to get back into the flow of things, I take a look at a writing prompt, and try cultivating a scene that is as immersive as possible! Working on your “Show, Don’t Tell” skills by practicing writing short, fun one-shots can be much less restrictive than a lengthier work.

In addition, get some inspiration and study from reading the works of others, whether it be a fanfiction or published novel!

If you need some extra help, feel free to check out my Master List of Writing Tips and Advice, which features links to all of my best posts, each of them categorized !

Hope this helped, and happy writing!