#ultimate writers block breaking attempt

[profjudeywudey]

doing a writing challenge for November (not NaNoWriMo, it’s hosted by The Writing Hub Discord)

50K word goal. 1,666 words a day. Wish me luck haha

[otterandterrier]

An explanation:

In 2022, Common Crawl scrapped Ao3 to train AI. In December of the same year, Ao3 added code to stop it from happening again. However, as they explain, "Putting systems in place that attempt to block all scraping would be difficult or impossible without also blocking legitimate uses of the site." This means that individual scrapers can still collect data, even on a large scale, although they're working to find a solution to this. They're also, at the moment, not banning AI-generated works.

In the meantime, they recommend restricting works to registered users only. However, and as they know, this isn't an ideal or ultimate solution.

First, because it would add a barrier to legitimate users who want to access the site without an account for different reasons.

Second, because real registered users who think they're entitled to your work can still steal it and feed it to AI for personal use, which is something people are already bragging about.

And third, because bots can still create accounts for mass scraping--in fact, there's a concerning wave of obvious bot comments happening right now, and speculation is that it's related to making AI tools come off as legitimate traffic.

Personally, I'm very concerned and considering restricting my works. But I also hate that we're being put in this position, I don't think it's fair to me or my readers, and I'm reluctant of gatekeeping my fic from legitimate readers.

So I wanted to see where other writers stand right now, and I also wanted to show readers who might be considering stealing fic with AI "because it was abandoned" or whatever your shitty excuse is the damage that you're contributing to. Fandom is not a market. You're not entitled to our work, even if it's abandoned.

I might hate myself for this later, but please reblog for a larger sample size!! You're welcome to add alternative solutions, thoughts, etc., but if you add any obnoxious comments about how stealing people's art with AI is good, actually, and fandom creators are meanies, I will break into your house and bite you.

[bricreative]

Thoughts on Life is Strange: Double Exposure so far (SPOILERS) because I think about this stupid series way too much

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings. Some of it’s good, but I’m mostly just sad and disappointed about the whole thing. I’ll try to keep it just about the game, but I also want to talk about the build up, how the marketing (so far) has mislead fans about certain choices and characters, how fans have been teetering on harassment to the devs, and what I’m hoping for in the chapters 3-5.

I'm sure there are others out there who can articulate these points better than I can and I'll probably repeat said points, but if you want to see a rare ramble from me, here are my thoughts, either in full paragraphs or bullet points ->

EDIT: Leaks are already coming out so half the shit I say in this probably doesn’t even matter 🙃

Early access has been out for more than a week now and I was only able to finish parts of it until I had to go on vacation. Parts of the story were spoiled for me before I got around to finishing the second chapter. So any “ twist” or revelation that did occur wasn’t as exciting as it could’ve been. And that’s mostly on me because I never really feel the need to block words/tags to avoid spoilers, unless I actually cared about said story.

And well, as much as I try to give Deck Nine some grace, the outlook for this game wasn't looking great to begin with…

Like the fucking break up with Max and Chloe?? While it wasn't a total shocker, the marketing has been leading towards that, it still left me heartbroken that this is how it's playing out. I was trying to be hopeful (delusional) that maybe they were going to do the long distance route. I thought that just made the most sense. I thought that’s why they were only releasing the first two chapters.

(I also know it was to get people to buy the ultimate edition, I know, I know)

I can see a route where taking some time apart could make sense given the overwhelming guilt, pain, trauma they obviously faced. But the way Chloe is currently written just feels so ooc? I don’t think she would’ve thrown so much shit Max’s way, especially about her rewind powers. I would think given it's been 10 years after the events of Arcadia Bay, she would trust Max completely. It’s also crazy considering Deck 9 made a whole ass prequel game revolving around Chloe?? And made a cute DLC with Max and Chloe as kids. It’s just baffling me how they’re treating her character.

I wonder what the reason was for not including Chloe more into the story. Did Square not want her in it at all? Did they even attempt to try and bring Ashley Burch back? I figured, they probably couldn’t get her to reprise the role full time, so maybe they opted her for a part time role, or a meaningful cameo. Are they hiding Chloe because they only have Rhianna and they’re afraid of disappointment/ backlash? 

And now we have lines from the original game redubbed by her, so it’s looking more and more like that’s the case. It’ll be Rhianna...

And look, I don’t hate her or her performance in Before the Storm, I’m just not crazy about it. She has some powerful scenes in it for sure, but I do think it is the weakest game of the series. At the end of the day, Ashley will always be Chloe, and she has the best chemistry/dynamic with Hannah Telle.

It doesn’t help that we barely know what happened in between the events of LIS and DE. It’s crazy to me that the writers didn’t even bother to put simple dates on text messages, some journal entries, etc. They have in the previous games, why not now? Are they hiding something or was it just an oversight or lack of care? And don’t get me started on the artwork in this journal....

It’s not bad but it's SO not Max’s style. It’s so cartoony? She’s writing less and less. What would’ve been cool to see is a portfolio of all of her previous work so far. She would’ve had SO much from traveling the country? Such a missed opportunity. AND an actual photo mode, hello?? What we have right now is kinda lackluster

I don't like that this series is becoming a glorified dating sim.The romances that did work in the past were built off of genuine connection and chemistry? They just jump right into this one?? 

While I actually do like Amanda, I can see them working in a BAY route only

Max would not go for a guy like Vinh in any timeline. Holy fuck, he’s so gross

It's just so obvious they had to shoehorn his romance route last minute

At this point, i'm agreeing with the argument that Max is a lesbian rather than a bisexual (even though I love the pattern that all lis protags are bi)

Or better yet, we don't have to go the romance route at all

I know all fandoms are annoying but the way certain fans have been acting towards the official accounts/ developers has been frustrating to witness?? I'm not saying you can't be critical, especially when it's on your own personal posts/accounts, but it's getting to the point where y'all are harassing them for every little fucking thing. I don't know, I just don’t have the energy to pester or harass accounts this fucking much. Don’t yall have better things to do? There are bigger things going on in the world

Focus all of that energy into creating art, writing, etc.

Remember that these characters are made up, it is a game

There’s a difference between thoughtfully criticizing and just plain bashing people

While I do think it’s frustrating, I can kinda understand why Square/D9 decided to be cagey about Chloe’s appearance. They’re walking a thin tightrope right now

There have been issues revolving around leaks even before the official announcement of the game came out AND there are leaks going around as we speak

They went the Last of Us II marketing route and essentially tricked people, yes. It sucks, it’s frustrating, I get wanting to build hype, any press is good press I guess

Maybe Chloe will have a bigger role in the later chapters? I’m more than prepared to eat my words but I’d rather maintain a little bit of hope here

I also think it's important to point out the things that I do like, at least to keep me sane:

The performances, especially from the first chapter, are pretty strong! Particularly from Safi, Max, Amanda, and Moses. Like that performance capture technology doesn't get talked about enough! The level of detail, the expressions, it’s incredible! You don't even see that in AAA games sometimes!

I do love that D9 brings in talent from outside the gaming industry, really makes the performances feel well rounded. True Colors did this very well, especially with Erika Mori

The doppelgänger power that’s being hinted at is SO cool imo. Every time I think that there aren’t any other worthwhile powers they can bring into this world, they surprise me. I’m interested to see where they’ll take it

Maybe they’ll do something fucky with Bay/Bae route. It’s hinted that timelines are overlapping. Maybe something crazy will happen.

What if we encounter multiple Max's (again) maybe another Chloe, were already jumping between timelines

Maybe they’ll bring Rachel back, maybe the doppelgänger ruined Max and Chloe’s relationship. We don’t know!

And look, I love this series. That much is obvious. The brain rot has always been there. I can joke and jest that this new story makes me sad and depressed, (even my playlist that I made is hitting different knowing that they broke up Max and Chloe,) but at the end of the day it's a GAME

I feel like I need to reiterate this for people but the game is still not fully out yet! I, at least, want to reserve some judgment before I fully decide how I feel about the game. Maybe they’ll surprise us, maybe Chloe will show up in the later chapters, maybe there will be a positive twist.

If it doesn’t turn out that way then that’s fine too! There are other games and comics and books to fall back on. There is so much more to this series than just Max and Chloe. I wish more people would realize that and give the other games a real chance

[morbidology]

The letters started in 1976, leaving the citizens of Circleville, Ohio, living in fear. Numerous residents received ominous anonymous letters from somebody who claimed to be watching them.

The letters detailed private and personal information and were always written in block letters, most likely in an attempt to obscure the true writing style of the author. Over 1,000 letters were sent. While many of the citizens were targeted, the vindictive writer seemed to focus in on one person in particular.

Mary Gillespie was a local school bus driver and she found herself the brunt of the abuse. She received disturbing letters in which the writer disclosed where she lived and frequently threatened her children. In addition to the threats, the letters detailed an apparent affair Mary was having behind her husband, Ron’s, back. Mary denied the accusations but they quickly circulated through the tight-knight community who judged Mary for her perceived wrongdoings.

A letter eventually arrived for Ron, threatening that his life was in danger if he ignored the affair. After ignoring the letter, in August of 1977, Ron received a phone call, presumably from the “Circleville Writer.” After slamming down the phone, he grabbed his gun and told his family he was going to confront the letter writing before storming out of the house. Ron was never seen alive again.

Shortly after leaving the home, his wrecked car was discovered. Ron had slammed into a tree on a road that he had driven on thousands of times before. Bizarrely, his gun had been shot once. Initially, police claimed foul play was involved but that suddenly changed, and they wrote his death off as accidental without an explanation for the fired weapon.

The letters to Mary only continued, but the mysterious writer became more aggressive. He began placing menacing signs up along her bus route for the whole town to see. On the 7th of February, 1978, Mary decided enough was enough after seeing a sign that threatened her daughter.

Nobody was on the bus so Mary pulled up alongside the sign and went to tear it down. To her horror, when she ripped it down, she realised it had been booby-trapped. Behind the sign was a gun that was set up to shoot when the sign was moved. Thankfully, there was a flaw in the mechanism and it didn’t fire.

An investigation uncovered that the gun was registered to Mary’s brother-in-law, Paul Freshour. He staunchly denied he was involved and reported that his gun had been stolen during a recent break in. Despite the fact that Paul’s fingerprints were not found on the gun or any of the letters or booby trap, he was charged and ultimately found guilty of attempted murder.

A handwriting expert concluded that the handwriting in the letters matched Paul’s handwriting. However, they came to this conclusion after asking him to replicate the letters in the same style of writing - block capitals.

Furthermore, a search of his home uncovered nothing that indicated he was responsible for the letters or the booby trap. Nevertheless, he was sentenced to 7 to 25 years for attempted murder. Investigators and citizens alike assumed that now Paul was behind bars, the letters would stop, but they were wrong.

“Shame how things work out. But better you than me. The sheriff says: you did it. But we know better don’t we,” read a letter received by Paul while in prison. At the time, Paul had been in solitary confinement and was unable to send mail. Nevertheless, the sinister letters continued to arrive; both to Paul and to the concerned citizens in Circleville.

Prison guards quickly changed their opinion on Paul’s guilt. They knew he wasn’t sending the letters because it was impossible for him to do so yet the letters with the same handwriting style continued. Paul was finally released after 10 years and staunchly denied any involvement until his death in 2012.

The enigmatic "Circleville Writer," Paul's involvement, Ron's fate, and the vendetta against Mary endure as unresolved questions, shrouded in Circleville's history.

[yeehanfrf]

Week 5 Recs: Golden Oldies

This week's Yeehan fic rec theme was "Golden Oldies," or those fics from Overwatch's early days that left a lasting impression. I asked for recs from 2016 and 2017, and boy, did folks have plenty! Check out the recs gathered from the Yeehan community below, organized by rating then alphabetically by title.

Not Rated

Fair Enough (5 Things McCree Can Do But Doesn't Let On + 1 He Simply Won't) by AsheRhyder [5,776 words] Reccer comment: "Everything AsheRyder wrote during this period is solid gold. Tasty, angsty gold."

“So what do you say? You interested?” McCree’s smile was as wide and inviting as an open door. Hanzo looked over the scruffy cowboy with a critical eye and a severe frown. “No,” he said and watched the door shut, quiet and easy. “Fair enough.” McCree tipped his hat and sauntered off.

In the months that followed, Hanzo learned many things about McCree that made him change his opinion on man; amazing, curious, and terrifying things. The most infuriating of them being this:

Jesse McCree never asked twice.

Lucid Dream by Somebody_Someone [WIP; 277,255 words] Reccer comment: "one of my two all time favourite, brain chemistry altering fics!"

Years ago he was a successful writer, and now he is struggling to get by every single day. Between art block, depression, insomnia and a comatose brother, Hanzo is constantly hanging on by his fingernails.

One day, he finds solace in the strangest shape; lucid dreams of a most unwelcoming land where he meets a terribly frustrating cowboy, gets in deep trouble and goes on a quest for a mysterious treasure. With the insufferable cowboy as his guide.

The journey will be long, scattered with obstacles and dangers, but may it be enlightened by the unexpected blooming of a friendship and perhaps something deeper.

Two Noons in their Moccasins by Scrumpadouchus [WIP; 89,675 words] Reccer comment: "This!! It's a Your name AU and it's still a work in progress but it's seriously gold! I suggest to watch the film before but for me this ff is a 10/10"

In which an archer and a cowboy start suddenly waking up in each others' bodies, and they attempt to make the most of being suddenly dropped into the life of a complete stranger.

In the process they make some mischief, make some mistakes and change each others' lives.

Teen and Up

A Comedy of Eros (A Tragedy of Communication in Five Acts) by AsheRhyder [9,886 words]

Hanzo wondered why they even made mission plans when they all went horrifically wrong. Take this last one: what was supposed to be a quiet artifact retrieval from Ilios turned into a brawl with Talon over an ancient quiver full of arrows.

Arrows that, apparently, had some Very Interesting Side Effects on enemy and friend alike.

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by vandoodle [75,467 words]

Hanzo Shimada regrets ever joining Overwatch after he is paired with Jesse McCree, known cowboy enthusiast, and dropped off in the middle of American suburbia. Forced to blend in with the environment, endure neighborhood cookouts, and share his new living space with his so-called 'Husband', the two prepare to preform the ultimate sting operation: taking down the Vishkar corporation once and for all. He can't help but think this will all go horribly wrong.

Or, alternatively titled: the undercover fake-marriage fic that every fandom deserves.

Hanzo: Koi no Yokan by franklytriggering [WIP; 15,998] Reccer comment: "this one's not hyped up enough imo. should be a classic. (unfinished by honestly the ending still slaps!)"

Hanzo struggles to rein in his delinquent brother, Genji, as their father's health wanes and obligation demands their answer. While their fate speeds towards its inevitable breaking point, Hanzo wrestles between family tradition and his wayward emotions-- marrying well, or giving in to his own needs.

Heartless by AsheRhyder [6,504 words]

Once upon a time, a wicked sorcerer cut out his heart and sealed it away. He hid it in a needle, put the needle in an egg, put the egg in a duck, put the duck inside a rabbit, and put the rabbit in a box on an island at the end of the world. So long as his heart was safe, nothing could kill him. Or so the legends say, anyway. Nowadays, people know what a silly story that was. Nobody bothers with rabbits anymore.

Cole Cassidy has no heart.

Like the River by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales) [5,847 words] Reccer comment: "I do love me some good ol 'dragons expose Hanzo's inner workings'"

Dragon Spirits don’t trust just anyone.

McCree never expected for them to ever trust him.

Or how McCree gained some trust, won a shootout, almost caught the flu, and proceeded to be the most handsome damsel in distress Overwatch has ever seen.

Lone Wolf by AsheRhyder [Series; 66,124 words]

After the fall of Overwatch, Jesse McCree survived for years like a lone wolf. But wolves weren't meant to live alone, and as the Recall draws heroes back to the forefront, he'll have to learn how to adapt or get left behind again.

Lotus-Eater by AsheRhyder [16,116 words]

Only Jesse McCree would have the ridiculously bad luck to be abducted by a mad scientist during a mission.

In the aftermath, the line between dreams and waking blurs and distorts. Which holds more weight; the flawed reality, or the perfect dream? Which is worth fighting for? Which will hurt him worse?

More Than True by AsheRhyder [Series; 34,346 words]

"Fairy tales are more than true..." -G.K. Chesterton.

In which there are dragons, and castles, and monsters of all sorts.

OR

That series of stories in which buildings repeatedly fall on Hanzo.

People Like Us by fishpoets [8,764 words]

Jesse's never much believed in 'happily ever after', but it turns out it might be possible after all, even for a man like him. That is, if life doesn't ruin it for him first.

Mature

Adaptation by CommonNonsense [13,315 words]

McCree always did like a challenge, and Hanzo Shimada is a bundle of challenges wrapped up in a handsome package and tied with a gold ribbon.

Body Heat by BatKatBrown [2,575 words]

Little oneshot inspired by this comic which is amazing. http://disteal.tumblr.com/image/158383507645

Crown of Horns by Anonymous [150,888 words] Reccer comment: "I've recently started Re-reading one of my fav old ones: Crown of Horns (mind the tags!)"

"But you know, I rather like the idea of you as one of those beasts. Wouldn't that look nice for the clan, Hanzo? A living, breathing dragon, chained to a post in the gardens."

four days by feyhound [23,869] Reccer 1 comment: "one of my all time favs Four Days"

Reccer 2 comment: "One of my first fav is this 🥰 I have a weak spot for fics like these 🥺"

“I have an embarrassin’ favor to ask of you,” Cole says.

Hanzo stares at him expectantly, a single brow arched. “And what is that?” he asks.

“Y’see, my family might currently be under the impression that I’m bringin’ home a date for a few days next week. And, the thing is, I don’t really have one. So, I’m currently S-O-L and would really, really appreciate it if you came home with me for a few days and, uh. Pretended. To be my boyfriend.”

He stares down at his plate and jabs a fry into the enormous puddle of ketchup gathered in the center of it. If only the fry could be his hypothetical four-day boyfriend, he thinks; it would save him an enormous amount of embarrassment. It would be tastier, too.

[ Or - Cassidy desperately needs a fake date to bring home to his family, and Hanzo never does anything half-assed. ]

Foxhole Dreaming by fishpoets [18,569]

After Hanzo and McCree are ambushed on an undercover mission and McCree is injured, they need to hide out in a secret bunker that McCree knows of while they wait to be rescued. The prospect of a few days in close-quarters alone with McCree wouldn't be a problem, except for one thing: Hanzo's feelings for the gunslinger don't stop at friendship.

Hang the Fool by AlmaMeDuele [231,922 words] Reccer comment: "i remember reading it in 2017 and its still my fav one in this fandom"

How the heroic organization Overwatch acquires the talents of one Hanzo Shimada, and how gunslinger Jesse McCree will probably suffer because of it for the rest of his days.

Love Bites and Liquid Courage by timehopper [4,633 words]

McCree should not show up at his door in a drunken haze this often; and yet every time he does, Hanzo lets him in.

May I by Ingridarcher [182,716 words] Reccer comment: "my rec is the first Yeehan fic I read that I remember making An Impression on me"

"We're nothing alike, Shimada. You? You fell down from the sky. And me? I clawed my way up, outta the dirt."

Jesse was there. He was on the Blackwatch team that dragged Genji Shimada's body away and brought it back to the Overwatch medical facility. He saw what Genji's brother, Hanzo, did to him. Now, Overwatch has been recalled, and when Genji comes back he brings along the last person McCree ever expected: his murdering brother. And while Hanzo seems oddly drawn to McCree, Jesse wants nothing to do with him.

Points on a Circle by AughtPunk [111,325 words] Reccer comment: "it's not exclusively yeehan but omg it's such a well-crafted piece"

It began when Cole Cassidy summoned one of Hanzo's dragons in the middle of battle.

It began a month ago when Hanzo looked at Cole and realized he's already in love.

It began an hour ago when Satya heard the word 'magic' and refused the believe.

It began six months ago when Genji introduced his his brother to Cole, not knowing the two of them have a past.

It begins.

Undercover by lyriumveins [14,749 words]

Hanzo is a new member of Overwatch, working undercover in a coffee shop with a few other agents. He’s adjusting to his new life – and making good progress on his missions – when he starts finding ridiculous messages scrawled on coffee cups… Messages that are, apparently, for him. While he’s convinced it’s all just a ridiculous prank, D.Va calls them “pick-up lines” and insists that he has a “secret admirer.”

Whiskey Lullaby by CaptainCorgi [WIP; 64,791 words] Reccer comment: "Unfinished! But classic"

The buzz of the communicator had him jumping, knee slammed against the metal desk and a string of curses followed. Not looking, Jesse palmed the device, opening its front screen and stopped cold. The message wasn't from any of his team mates. In fact it wasn't from Overwatch at all. There was no sent from address, no name, and it contained one sentence.

Recipient: 10.29M.76 Status: Urgent Subject: -

Message:

Welcome home.

Who Taught You How to Hate by Valpur [46,594 words]

He’d always known it was going to happen. There weren’t many ways to go for a rogue like him, but all in all he would have much preferred a clean hole in his skull rather than being hanged for robbery and murder. Especially because this one single, fucking time he was not guilty.

--

McCree is having the worst time of his life and an outlander happens to save his sorry ass. Things go awfully weird after that - and he enjoys it all too much.

Explicit

Afterdrop by ClaroQueQuiza [WIP; 638,116 words]

Overwatch can be forgiven for keeping Hanzo at arm's length despite the endorsement of his intended murder victim. Six months of provisional membership, spent in the field, is a reasonable compromise.

But not everyone is on board with giving Hanzo a chance.

Cassidy, least of all.

Backroom Deals by dragonspell [7,754 words]

“Oh.” Jesse shifts on the chair, rattling the cuffs again, as his eyes dart helplessly downward, drawn by a kind of gravitational force. “I was wondering if you might, uh, show me your ankles?”

(Or, Jesse gets himself captured while trying to infiltrate a Shimada safe house and he and Hanzo reach a deal; Blackwatch-era, slight-AU; the foot fetish McHanzo that no one asked for)

the best medicine by fishpoets [4,298 words] Reccer comment: "Happy smut"

Hanzo and Jesse, a successful mission, a night alone together. Bad jokes and lots of laughter.

The Dragon's Mate by kdwalbring [116,347 words] Reccer comment: "The dragons mate is one I will always recommend! I've reread this more times than I can count all the way through and love it more each time!"

Talon is too powerful for the newly formed Overwatch to handle head-on, so plans are made to infiltrate one of their strongest supporters. Jesse McCree hasn't found a home or family quite like what he had in Blackwatch, but he's determined to protect his new friends whatever it takes.

Turns out, mating to your best friends murderous brother is what it takes and he goes willingly. Something's not right in the Shimada clan though and he's going to figure it and Shimada Hanzo out.

Or: Arranged Marriage Yakuza ABO AU, because all the things! THIS WILL HAVE A HAPPY ENDING!!

Familiar Habits by Philosophics [8,176 words] Reccer 1 comment: "I really like this one"

Reccer 2 comment: "One of my first ever Yeehan bookmarks back in the day!"

After joining Overwatch, Hanzo finds it difficult to sleep some nights. It is nothing a hot cup of tea cannot fix, but he never expected that he would have company.

(or: hanzo is very thirsty, in more ways than one)

I got this fever, fever burning inside by CourtneyCourtney [11,300 words]

Hanzo has heard stories of this 'weapon', the most lurid tales courtesy of McCree, naturally. A libido accelerant Talon injects intravenously, giving its victims the option of mauling a stranger for sexual release, forcing themselves on a teammate and ruining any trust built between the two, or - to quote Jesse's turn of phrase - dying of "blue balls."

In other words, not a way for someone like Jesse McCree to go. Not if Hanzo is determined to help. It would be a shame to lose a colleague as altruistic and reliable as McCree to a weapon so primitive.

If he has to choke out the voice at the back of his mind questioning his own altruism in performing this act, then so be it.

(or, McCree gets sex pollened by Talon, and Hanzo helps him out the way any good friend would (Really. Stop gagging, Genji.))

Ichigo by morrezela [27,121 words] Reccer comment: "Ichigo will forever be my go to fic. 😭😭 even tho it’s so heartbreakingly good"

They break up on a Wednesday

It's All Your Fault by Cadeykat [25,100 words]

Hanzo Shimada joins the ranks of Overwatch and finds that he quite likes teasing the resident cowboy. That is, until a single compliment ruins his thought process, and he has to deal with feelings he's not exactly well versed in.

Magic McCree by Cadeykat [15,105 words]

Hanzo Shimada does not want to be here, he does not like strip clubs and never has. And Genji is wrong, he does not need to 'get laid', no matter how long this dry spell has lasted. He knows he'll regret being here tonight, and he needs a drink. And the tall glass of water clad in plaid that just bumped into him could be what cures his thirst.

More than Most by leoandlancer [7,103 words] Reccer comment: "Shooting at your loved ones always works to confess your love, right?"

Initially, McCree thinks he's the one chasing Hanzo for time alone. However, after Hanzo tips his hand slightly playing target practice, McCree's less certain. Then Hanzo accompanies him to a private island, where he neatly lays to rest all of McCree's assumptions about his reticence. McCree simply chased until Hanzo finally caught him. Short little thing because McHanzo smooches and smut are giving me so much joy.

Poker Face by Cadeykat [28,383 words]

“Shark, my ass. Man cleared out $60,000 at the first table he played at.”

Hanzo shrugs, silently delighting in how Daniel sucks in a bracing breath at his nonchalance. Oh, he loves riling him up. Serves him right for calling him in on his day off. “So? That’s not entirely uncommon. Perhaps he’s just good at poker.”

“He’s won almost $250 grand over the last four days.”

Oh.

This is going to be fun.

Scoundrels and Thieves 'verse by vaguely_concerned [WIP; Series; 127,655 words]

Canon AU where the Shimada family and the Deadlock gang used to do business, Hanzo and Cassidy had a thing… and then Cassidy gets the ‘offer’ from Overwatch.

stop me if you've heard this one by losebetter [WIP; 9,516 words] Reccer comment: "my oldest yeehan bookmark, a very old WIP, but I recommend it regardless and still occasionally reread it because it's so good"

love or death. grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish. richard siken.

--

“Mmm. And, here, here is the best part of this, Jesse,” Hanzo slurs, afterwards, about oh-two-hundred by Jesse’s estimation. He’s standing around nude in the en suite, and Hanzo looks downright decadent lounging in the wrecked sheets back on the bed, all dark eyes, dark hair that cuts down over one shoulder like spilled ink. His long fingers shift on the flask propped up next to him, and Jesse swears some part of his tattoo ripples with the movement, too eye-catching to have come from the dim ceiling light. Maybe he’s still a little tipsy, but he can’t pretend he’s never seen Hanzo in action before, either.

Target Panic by Philosophics [20,500 words] Reccer comment: "an old fav of mine, funny, sexy and a bit angsty"

McCree looks him steadily in the eyes. “I said, I’m in love with you,” he repeats. Hanzo stares some more as the words sink in. “You,” he states imperiously, “are mistaken.” Then he promptly turns on his heel and strides out the open carrier door. - In which McCree confesses his love, Hanzo has some difficulty believing him, and the team seems entirely unable to keep from sticking their noses into the whole affair.

We're all Blackwatch Now by firefly_quill [WIP; Series; 18,491 words]

“Blackwatch under scrutiny after complaint from Japanese government”.

How Jesse McCree gets in trouble *for* following orders, for once.

This wraps up the Week 5 recs! Thank you to everyone who sent in a recommendation! Keep an eye out for next week's theme: "Show & Tell," all about the love confessions.

In the meantime, you can also check out the Week 4 recs here or check the list of past and future themes here!

[gvtted-ratz]

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Freakiest Freak

Hannibal Lecter x Billy Lenz

Last Edited: 02/20/2024

TW: stalking, sexual talk, foul language, breaking and entering

Requested: no

Word Count: 3,885

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: no gay sex but knowing billy? Plenty of his swearing n sexual words.

@rppik (editor/co-writer): Rat went "does anyone want me to make this crackship" and didn't wait for an answer. Alternative title for the fic: "The drooling is coming from inside the house". Also,  SHAFT♡

He’s cold and hungry. The last time he remembers eating was sometime before he began jumping from car to car. He’d been hiding among people’s belongings in the backseats and trunks to arrive in some new place he’s never been. To think some people didn’t lock their cars’ trunks or back doors was odd, but ultimately this works in his favour. Up until it doesn’t, that is.

The screaming of the young couple in the front seats causes him to start yowling like a dying cat in return. He claws his way out of the pile of their belongings that they somehow spotted him within, trying to get unburied as quickly as possible. The woman driving swerves the car off the road in her panic, landing them in a ditch. With no weapon but his own hands, Billy chooses flight over fight and tries his best to throw open the door.

The man in the passenger seat unbuckles himself and tries to climb into the back to grab the yowling intruder . After another attempt on Billy’s part, the car door opens, and he flings himself out, landing in a heap on the cold ground. Upon hearing the man's yelling continue as he exits the car next, the hysterical fugitive clambers his way onto his feet before taking off down the road. The cops will surely be called and on their way. So, with no better course of action available , he changes his course to the woods.

Between walking and running, his progress occasionally punctured by wheezing cackles, Billy makes his way deeper and deeper into the wilderness of Maryland. In his adrenaline filled state, he trips and falls into shrubs, their leaves and twigs getting his hair tangled. It doesn't take long for him to get small scrapes on his hands from the multitude of falls within the unknown terrain he’s found himself in.

“Hungry… Billy’s hungry ,” he mumbles to himself, chewing on his fingers as he walks farther along in the cold weather. Some odd humming here and there leads to incoherent ramblings , combined with a few pig noises and meowing, as he travels onward.

“Little baby bunting… Daddy’s gone a-hunTING!” A screech follows the last syllable. A few giggles from his mouth keeps him from finishing the lullaby for just a few moments. “Gonna fetch a rabbit skin… To wrap my baby Agnes in.”

 Any sort of happiness he derived from the lullaby he sings disappears in the blink of an eye, his attempt at self entertainment short-lived and ineffective . Gurgles mixed with groans leave his throat; his hands claw at his face and hair as the stress from the multiple days pile on him. Screams echo off of the trees around Billy, all of it coming from the man himself, but none able to drown out the screaming within.

“Dead! Bleeding! PIGGIES! FUCKING CUNTS!” Over eight hours, Billy’s been fleeing, running from what he did in Canada. He warned them! He really did! But did they listen? No! None of them did! Just like little Agnes.

With a sore throat, runny nose, and aches covering his entire being, he spots house lights between the trees. With a sense of burgeoning hope for a chance at reprieve, Billy quickens his pace and enters a clearing with a grand home in the middle. It’s quite large, much larger than any of the homes Billy’s used to, even the sorority house he'd last snuck into. Back in Canada, the only homes approaching this size he’d seen tended to be grouped together, almost like a cul-de-sac. This one stands by its lonesome, making it that much more intimidating by contrast, giving the impression that some wealthy fellow must live here. In Billy’s mind, it translates to more places to curl up and hide away in, as a large home has a multitude of hiding spots.

A quick glance over the outside shows many entry points he could take advantage of. With more windows to choose from than teeth in his mouth, Billy grabs a rather large stone from the surrounding area—  originally meant to be used for decorative purposes— and lobs it at one of the large windows on the first floor.

As loud as thunder, the sound of the glass shattering destroys any semblance of peace in the clearing. Just as quickly as it happens, however, the cover of quiet falls over the clearing once again as Billy climbs through the shattered remains of the window. The alarm that is tripped upon his intrusion is just as silent, no one but the proprietor of the home made aware of his crime.

A few more cuts appear on his hands, broken glass still clinging to the window cutting into the meat of his extremities. Some blood smears along the window pane during his entrance, although he pays no mind to the bodily fluid being spread around the home.

Billy finds himself in a large living-room. It reeks of wealth , the quality of items held here making it obvious. He ignores it all in favour of stumbling his way to the kitchen, having some difficulty navigating the huge floor plan of the building.  

With his parched, sore throat, he hasn’t yelled nor screamed after his trek in the woods. His fatigue, alongside hunger, only adds to the aches and pains he feels. As a result, when he falls into the kitchen, tripping over his own feet, he's almost desperate to get some proper sustenance; the deafening silence around him and lingering panic in his veins making him feel further on edge Rummaging around in the cabinets, he finds a bread container and a few bottles of wine. The loaf within the container appears to be homemade and has yet to even be sliced before Billy starts to shove it down his gullet. In his eagerness he chokes on the starchy goodness, hacking it up, and proceeds to pop the cork off the wine in hopes of washing it down properly. A large sip of the bottle's contents, however, prompts Billy to chuck the bottle at the wall, shattering it.

“Nasty! Nasty, Billy! WHAT DID YOU DO, BILLY?!” He screeches, coughing afterwards from the ensuing raw ache in his throat. With the wine discarded, he shoves the rest of the bread into his mouth, cheeks puffed out as he tries to shove it all down into his stomach faster than he can chew. It takes a bit before the remainder of the bread has been consumed, drool dripping down from the edges of his mouth. It coats his lips, some of it having dripped from off him and onto the counter below.

With his meal done, he goes for the fridge, rummaging around to find something to drink. He pushes around jars and bottles, searching for anything that he knows is both safe and familiar. In the back, a jug of milk is found. He turns the lid, letting the opening line up with the spout. From there, Billy proceeds to drink straight from the opening; some milk leaks out from his mouth, trailing down his throat. He stops drinking like a dying man for only a moment to take in a large gulp of air before continuing to chug more of the milk.

Distantly, he hears the sound of tires on gravel. Freezing, he listens a tad bit longer; the car stops, the engine cutting off. Billy drops the jug, spilling the remainder of the milk all over the nicely tiled floor. With his heart thumping like that of a rabbit’s, Billy takes off and out of the kitchen. He’s quick, wasting no time climbing the staircase. Finding a bedroom, he enters it and grabs a few blankets, yanking them off the well-made bed. On the bedside table, he finds a small hand-held phone and grabs it to take with him, too.

Blankets in arm, he goes back out into the hall, searching along the ceiling for a door. At the very end of the hall, he finds it: a small rope dangles from the hook holding it in place. He grabs ahold of it, pulling it down with all his might, and a loud thump rings out around him as the ladder slams down onto the floor. Without hesitation, Billy clambers up the ladder and pulls it shut behind him. With the door closed, he can feel himself relax— as relaxed as an unmedicated, delusional man on the run can be.

Journeying farther into the attic, he finds a vacant space behind many stacked boxes . He arranges a few to completely cover the spot from view in case the person living here does search for him up here. After a bit more shuffling about, Billy makes a small little resting spot out of the blankets he took from the bedroom. Right beside it, he places the phone on the floor for later usage. With all the stress from the day catching up to him, Billy allows himself to finally curl up in the nest of blankets he’s created. It doesn’t take long before he’s out like a light.

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

Waking up, the man is a bit disorientated, making his heart drop for a moment as he fails to recognize his surroundings. It takes a minute before memories of the previous day finally surface in his mind, helping his nerves settle— hearing no activity in the floors beneath him, he decides to relieve his remaining tension by lashing out at some unsuspecting victim, as always .

Wiggling out of his nest of blankets, he grabs the little hand-held phone. Turning it on, Billy starts to file through the phone’s contacts. Here, he finds a contact that interests him more than the others. None of the other contacts have a suffix in front of them except for this one. Clicking it and letting the phone start to ring, he puts the device to his ear to listen to the ringback.

It rings. And rings. And rings .

“Dr. Lecter speaking ,” an accented, smooth voice enters Billy’s ear. In response to his words, Billy lets out a loud, manic chuckle.

“Pretty Piggy… Such a pretty piggy!” He squeals, oinking at the other man. Moans, gurgles, and gargles escape from deep in his chest, laughing and yowling. He goes on for minutes before slowly quieting down into a fit of soft giggles. There’s silence on the other end. For a second, Billy thinks he’s been hung up on, despite the lack of a beep to have signalled the end of the call.

“I assume you’re done then? It’s rude of you to call only to make such obscenities,” Dr. Lecter tells him, not sounding the least bit fazed. Billy’s giggling has stopped, frowning intensely at this off-handed scolding. “Now, I have a strong suspicion that you’re the man responsible for the wreck in my kitchen? Not to mention the explosion of glass in my living room.”

Billy simply gurgles at him, not intending to answer the guy’s questions but finding it amusing that he's once again managed to phone the resident of the very home he's taken refuge in . A sigh of exasperation is the only answer Billy gets to his nonsensical response. The line goes dead afterwards, showing that the man truly isn’t interested in entertaining a criminal .

Billy turns the phone off, moving to sit cross-legged, letting himself flop back on his blankets. He stares off, slowly starting to zone out. Mumbles leave his mouth as he rocks himself from side to side to pass a bit of the time. Doing this is calming, helping him reflect some of the things he’s done recently. While he doesn’t particularly have an issue with his memory , he does tend to find it easier to recount things in a safe environment while feeling somewhat calm— and up until now, he's felt anything but.

In this state, he lets the events from the sorority house play over in his mind. He hums, remembering the first to go in that house. Claire seemed just like Agnes… They all seemed like her in a way. But the more he thinks about them all, the harder it is to determine what exactly it was about them that he found to resemble Agnes at all.  The more he tries, the more his thoughts are derailed by memories of Agnes. Soon enough, the sorority girls and Agnes start to blur together in his mind, just as they had that night, making his lips curl up in revulsion. His mind races, voices unlike his own clawing their way up his throat, repeating words that he can never unhear.

“Disgusting… DISGUSTING! NASTY BILLY!” He cries out, voice high and shrill.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE BABY, BILLY?! WHERE’S THE BABY?!!” He smacks a box of items from its spot, letting it crash to the ground.

“BILLY! BAD BILLY! DISGUSTING PIG!” A lamp goes flying across the attic, shattering upon impact on the wall. A screeching wail explodes from his lungs, bouncing off the walls of the small enclosure he’s taken as his own.

It takes half an hour for Billy to calm down, panting and wheezing. He allows himself to crawl back into his nest of blankets. Whimpers and whines leave him as he shakes from the after-effects of his fit. He’s tired, so very tired.

“Claude… Meow… Meow!!” He lets himself remember Claude, the one creature that seemed to care for him in a genuine way. Regret churns in his gut at leaving the poor thing behind, the feeling fading along with his consciousness as  exhaustion overtakes him. 

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

Waking up once more, Billy is left reeling in the feelings of the past day. Has it been a day? Maybe days have passed. Or could it be weeks? Time is incomprehensible to his messed up mind, much less in the windowless attic.

Not to mention, t here’s too much stimulation going on around him to think. How is he supposed to process anything with all the screaming, crying, begging, and yelling happening? At this point, Billy himself can’t seem to tell if all those sounds are from him, within his head, or occurring outside in reality; it’s too jumbled up, mixing and distorting his senses beyond comprehension. For all he knows, up is right and left is sideways.

He claws at his blankets, chewed-down nails sliding across the sheets. Is he even sane any more? Or maybe he never was. He’s unable to understand those simple things these days. Everything is too much; it’s drowning him.

A sound from down below makes him freeze up , breaking through his disorientated distress. While an odd noise usually wouldn’t have given Billy pause, it’s the fact that it’s right beneath the attic door that scares him— a scrape against the wood, a clink of metal, he can't be sure what exactly. He holds his breath, trying to keep himself from so much as twitching. He listens as the sounds continue before they cease and footsteps retreat down the stairs. With the space beneath him now silent , Billy lets himself uncurl from the fetus position. Slowly, he crawls out of his blankets and towards the attic’s door. Smooshing the side of his face into it, he listens for more sounds.

With nothing reaching his ears, Billy tries to open the door quietly. Despite his efforts, the ladder slams down onto the floor below once again. The bang it makes rings out, making his pulse jump in his veins, but no one comes to check out the noise. Slowly, he creeps down the ladder, leaving it open in case he needs to scurry back into his hiding hole. As such, he fails to notice the new addition to the trap door.

Moving as silently as he's capable of being, Billy makes his way through the hallway and down the stairs. He hasn’t seen this Dr. Lecter, yet , and plans on getting a little sneak peek. It’s when he’s creeping down the stairs that he notices, at last, how expensive everything is: while it’s not flashy, it’s good quality and nice on the eyes, befitting for a wealthy doctor's home. The surrounding items are truly cared for and made from the best products available. Running a finger across the banister, he spots no dust nor dirt. Everything is spotless besides the attic. To think that the one area that isn’t tidy would be the place he's taken as his own; it’s the perfect spot for the Canadian to hide, with it being about as clean as he is .

He looks through the rail pegs as he continues his descent. At the bottom of the stairway, he can hear someone in the kitchen. There’s a whistle of a kettle, sounds of chopping on a cutting board, and bubbles popping like that of something boiling in a pot. Billy finds himself inching closer to the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of this lavish home's owner . Convincing himself that it is worth the risk, he lets himself have a gander.

There, he sees a well-dressed man. With a blazer, dress pants, and shiny dress shoes, he stands in the kitchen preparing a meal for himself. An apron is tied around his waist, shielding his front from any grime he may splash on himself. His hair is nicely combed, with not a wrinkle in sight on his prim clothing. Just by peering at him, Billy knows he’s something to be watched closely. Even while presumably thinking himself to be alone, the man holds himself as someone to listen to and to fear.

While Doctor Lecter is himself a feast for the eyes, the smell of the food he's preparing is just as delicious. Billy can feel a small bit of drool leak past his lips, making him cover his mouth to keep the giggles and spit from spilling out. He knows, by simply staring, that there will be plenty of leftovers once the man finishes… But Billy hardly has the patience to wait that long for scraps.

Thinking quickly, he slinks off to where he remembers the living room being. Scanning the shelves when he arrives, he spots a fine vase, clearly delicate with its shiny glass. It's a pretty thing, and he has a penchant for breaking those, fingers twitching eagerly as he reaches for it. In the next moment, he chucks it towards the fireplace ,the loud sound of its shattering bursting well past the room. In the kitchen, the sounds of chopping cease .  

Billy’s quick to hide in a tight spot by the stairs, waiting with bated breath for the doctor to investigate his distraction. As the man walks into the room, the Canadian killer slips out of his spot,  slipping into the kitchen. Once inside, he messily grabs some of the cooked meat the wealthy man had been cutting. Another grab and his hands have got ahold of some oranges as well, proceeding to bundle it all up in his shirt, holding the hem up like a makeshift basket.

With his food secured, Billy turns to make his way out of the kitchen, only to freeze like a deer in headlights as he sees Dr. Lecter standing in the doorway.

“So, you’re the rat running amok in my home.” His proper demeanour doesn’t disappear as he talks. Even when faced with an intruder and vandal; his voice has an accent that Billy cannot make out, and now that it isn’t being filtered through the receiver of a phone, it sounds unnervingly smooth to his ears. It makes him want to slam glass in his ears, if only to keep the too-perfect sound from bouncing around in his skull for the remainder of the day. Beyond that, the lack of screaming in terror or any sort of anger gives Billy great pause, not knowing in the slightest how to proceed, allowing Lecter to continue. “With all the destruction, I was quite sure I was dealing with a pig.”

At the mention of a pig, Billy's mind starts back up, the man starting to make oinking sounds mixed with breathy giggles. The calmly stated insult is one that’s familiar to him, leading to him latching onto the word.

“Pretty Piggy… Preeeeeety Piggyyyy,” He drags out ‘pretty piggy’ with his laughing and sounds. The other man hardly seems bothered; it’s almost like he expected this reaction. “Pretty Piggy wants to suck his juicy, fat, COCK!” A sound between a wail and a cackle erupts from his throat.

“Now, Mr. Lenz, there is no need for this foul language. Come, take a seat. I have prepared you a meal.” While he moves with confidence, there’s a cautiousness in the way the ex-surgeon moves, almost like he doesn’t want to spook the unwell man into fleeing. Through his giggle-infused haze, Billy follows the other at the promise of food, while staying a few steps behind in case he feels like he needs to run.

The smell of cooked meat fills up Billy’s senses; it makes the man’s mouth start watering in hunger. Bread and milk are enough to keep one from dying for a month or so, but not enough to keep them from wasting away completely. With that in mind, Billy knows that he has to eat some of the offered meal as he’s eaten very little else during his time on the run; he’s lost quite a bit of weight, losing much of his energy and strength from the lack of nutrients.

When he sees the hunk of roasted pig flesh sitting on the plate, he doesn’t hesitate to grab it in his vibrating hands. The next thing the psychiatrist sees is Billy trying to shove the entire thing down his gullet, having been practically starving from his poor diet. It takes a bit of choking, gurgling, and excess spit, but Billy does manage to eat the entire plateful of pork.

“I do hope it was satisfactory, Mr. Lenz. I can see that your diet has been lacking. For as long as you remain here, I can promise you that I will keep you well-fed.” It’s stated as a promise, though Billy isn’t certain if it will be carried out , why would it?

“Piggy’s name… Tell Billy Piggy’s name,” More odd sounds ring around them as Billy delves back into his usual noises, eyes intent on the doctor as he seeks to understand his strangely accommodating host better.

“My name is Hannibal Lecter, a psychiatrist and ex-surgeon. I do hope you’ll enjoy your stay here, as you seem peculiar.” Hannibal’s words sound more like static as Billy starts to feel even more weak than usual. Eyes darting from Hannibal to the kitchen’s exit, he finally darts out and away from the other man.

Hannibal doesn’t follow Billy as he turns tail, knowing he’ll be finding the ward escapee in his attic. If only Billy had accounted for the fact that said attic could easily be locked up if one wanted to keep another captive there, the new locking mechanism on the trapdoor going unnoticed once again as he struggles to even lift the ladder back up.

It’s only as Billy dazedly collapses, beginning to lose consciousness inches away from his make-shift nest , that his rattled mind comes across a peculiar realization- he'd never told the man downstairs his name before.

[elnierah]

Announcement of Writing Hiatus, Yet Too a New Adventure

TLDR: Pausing my writing/fanfics for an indefinite amount of time to pursue drawing. Not abandoning my projects, but need a change of pace.

Hello, my lovely readers! Long time no see...?

This post has been brewing for quite a while, but I've been my usual stubborn self and refused to publicly acknowledge my struggles until now. I gave myself a deadline to make a decision, and that deadline is now here, hence this announcement post. However, to explain a little... Since October of last year ( 2023 ), I've been battling against and contending with an intense bout of writer's block - pretty much right after the 2nd remastered chapter of YCTL released. I also wasn't enjoying myself in the fandom, nor was I content with some of the decisions Atlus was making at the time. With those combined, I genuinely debated leaving/deleting all of my work, as all it brought me was misery. I won't go into too much detail as I don't like airing negativity, but I ultimately decided a break from it all was required, from SMS and such. After a much-needed break and unforeseen support, my volatile emotions ebbed and I managed to see the light again, yet when I tried to return to writing, I felt my heart wasn't as enthusiastic about it as it once was. I even attempted to begin production on Yusuke's B'day fic earlier, thinking that maybe it was the chapter of YCTL holding me down, but that didn't really help either. I was and still am apathetic towards my writing. I don't feel excitement, enjoyment or anything joyus towards it anymore. All I currently feel is frustration and annoyance whenever I try. It's easier to chalk this up to writer's block, because, well, that's ultimately what it is, but it's quite a severe case, unfortunately.

Around New Years, a friend of mine gave me their old drawing touchpad/tablet as they had upgraded, and I've been enjoying experimenting with it and tapping into my childhood hobby/interest since. While doing so definitely has those natural creative frustrations, I've been able to aspire beyond them, and that is ultimately what made me realise what creation should feel like again, and all of the above. It was akin to a wake up moment, one where I realised my relationship with writing as a whole had degraded and just trying to 'willpower' through it was impossible. I do not wish to abandon my projects or writing as a whole, but the reality of the matter is I cannot create anything of worth in my current state - trying to force myself will only lead to hatred, and I really don't want to lose my love for writing more than I already have.

These last 3 months have made it clear I need a change, and so I debated how to proceed forward and ultimately decided it would be wise for me to put my projects on an indefinite hiatus, yet instead of simply mulling over that fact, I should shift my creative energy towards other methods and explore different creative outlets whilst my burnout heals. I, unfortunately, cannot give a timeframe for when I may return to writing, as these issues have a mind of their own, but I'm hopeful this will be a step in the right direction. In the meantime, I plan to pursue drawing again as I've found it rather fun, despite the lulls, but this will primarily be a 'behind the scenes' venture, as I am still very much a fledgling artist and do not harbour any confidence regarding posting my artworks. I'm hopeful pouring my creative energy into something else can facilitate my growth, instead of remaining stagnant as I have the last few months.

As for my accounts, I plan to resume my activities on SMS. I've gone dark the last 2.5 months as I really needed it and wished to spend time with loved ones without these mental pressures, but now that I can see a path forward, I want to enjoy my place within the fandom again. I'll primarily be doing as I always have, posting miscellaneous stuff and supporting other creative individuals - just without the chapter updates and whatnot. Who knows, I may even post some of my artwork that I find decent enough.

To showcase my dedication to this new adventure, I drew a small fanart and wish to share it with you all! I did want to draw something a little more substantial, but the weather here is brutal and there's some other, unrelated, changes occuring in my life at the moment, so I'm rather busy. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this little piece - a piece indicating my wish to forge ahead, no matter its form! ᕙ(✧ヮ✧)ᕗ

This post has been going on long enough, so I'm going to conclude it with a few more words. But ultimately, I am still very passionate and love P5/shukita/kitashu, the form of which I express it is just going to shift for some time! Thank you all so much for your understanding, I honestly wouldn't be here without you all as your support has been paramount throughout the years! I hope this leads to a fruitful future for us all!

❤️❤️❤️💙💙💙

PS: Yes, I had to draw both variations of the ship as I love them both equally~! ヽ(♥ ³♥)ﾉ

[lactoseintolerentswag]

As someone who only draw single pieces, your ability to write is fascinating to me…I’m curious, how do you start building the storyline for longer fics?

Do you just think of a scenario (e.g., A punched B in the face) first and expand around it (What happened that leads to A punching B, what happens after, do they resolve their conflict)? Or do you start with the potential story arc of your central character (how A goes from a cocky person to a responsible one), or through some other ways entirely?

(TLDR: How do you plan out the storyline of your fics?)

Oh my gosh anon you just got awarded question of the night I love talking about writing (even if im answering these bc im currently blocked from writing ASDFGHJK).

And really my answer is both in a way!! Sometimes I'll think of a scenario first and expand around it, or the potential of character arcs. Long fics can spin from any idea big or small.

The fic I'm working on now? The Four Knights actually came from a joke with a friend. We were speculating about our own separated aus for fun and I really got stuck on Megamind-stylized villain!leo that was just a silly goofy guy because yeah. Canon!leo is dramatic af. And then I started asking myself questions.

Here's the important part in figuring out a long fic, or even just writing in general, is to keep asking yourself questions.

Okay so Leo is a villain, why is he like that what led him down that path? That's a broad question that will lead down to a lot of little questions, which is where the plot starts rolling.

Okay so he's a villain because his motivation is to take over the Hidden City, but how is going to attempt to do that? Okay now he has his own version of a Hidden City gang just like the Masters of Barbarianism or Makers of Brutality, but how will this make him interact with important figures like Draxum and Big Mama?

Knowing your characters is also important. Characters are your anchor, your guideline. All this question-asking relies on knowing your character well enough to have an answer to what they would do in that situation.

The things I focus on in character writing, especially when thinking with planning a plot in mind, is their strengths and their flaws.

Now as for the Planning planning part, different writers have different techniques. Sometimes someone just needs to sit down and write what they have in their head. As for me? I'm a very dedicated out-liner.

I'll write down all the main ideas or sick imagery I had in mind. Like why does villain!leo have a bird mask, we totally gotta flesh that out. And then I begin with a rough outline of the story breaking it into different parts or acts.

I tend to do this when I'm more focused on character arcs, with a character's traits and motivations progressing throughout a story.

For me this is super brief, just a line of bullet points to keep the ideas running. And then I'll get into chapter by chapter outline.

I make chapter by chapter outlines with a broad sense of what I want to happen in one chapter and then move onto the next. Once I'm done with that I return back to the start to refine the details into bullet points.

And this is a lot (if I'm passionate abt one thing it's writing) so,

tldr: Start with a broad idea or goal, and keep breaking it down into chunks. First by questioning why the main goal would happen, and then fleshing out the details little by little.

I wish you the best of luck with writing and art!!!! The act of creation is a time-consuming, but is ultimately wonderful and full of passion. Hope my word vomit was helpful haha.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

I know you've got me blocked which is fine, but to anyone else who reads this (and op), this is for you.

You're welcome to feel that way, and it's rare that I ever do come off as condescending. I was aware that might be the case but as evidence from above, did not have the energy to edit that tone. Honestly, my only apology is for not waiting to hit post until I could change my tone in that response, although frankly, I wouldn't have changed it.

My point was, as someone who did come from a Christian background and survived a great deal of abuse due to that upbringing, is that the laughter is more than just a thin shield in many cases. Coming from a world where anything we do is punishable whether it truly is right or wrong or moral or whatnot, because ultimately all the adults around us care more about controlling us than seeing us as people - that turns laughter into one of the greatest weapons.

It's a survival tool and a coping mechanism, and not a mere bandaid to "displace guilt" or "whatever." I know I'm not guilty of anything for my queer identity or for enjoying explicitly sexual/kinky content if I so choose. It's taken a great deal of work to reach that mindset and it's mostly been through the help other other queers who have similar experiences. It's not an excuse to make an inappropriate joke out of anything, but for those of us who have had to radically rewire our brains after letting go of certain beliefs, we've earned the right to poke fun at them.

As a writer (although admittedly one who doesn't typically write or read smut for reasons outside of this discussion), I'm also aware that many of the things people write either as professionals or in fanfiction is an attempt to process their own worldview in some manner. Whether that's to work out their own trauma or make any sort of commentary, or simply to write down what goes on in their head because it's taking up too much space, or some other reason, all of that is equally valid. If people are writing kink and repeating that phrase, then the follow up to how it's treated is more important to pay attention to than the line itself.

Since it is clearly not your thing, you're welcome not to use it in your writing and politely turn down any requests or prompts that include it. That's every writer's right. As a reader in a day and age where filters are a thing, and there's are so many methods to pare down results with a fine toothed comb (especially on AO3), that's the reader's responsibility.

But wishing a level of control so far as to say nobody should be saying that phrase so you don't have to deal with it is where it borders on unhealthy. Which is not to say you're invalid or wrong for those feelings, but the strength of the reaction might indicate that a break is needed from something or several things. Because saying you won't police people when there's some desire there to eradicate something that, ultimately, is far more complex than your personal feelings on it, can lead to a direction that unintentionally winds up sounding exactly like right-wing Christian ideals and control tactics, just with woke terminology. I'm not saying that's where you're already at, not even remotely, but I'm just a little too familiar with the territory and it's dangerous ground you're standing on.

Which is why there is every reason to sort out any anger and laugh in the face of punishment, because that is also an extremely queer thing to do, if not one of the queerest, and taking pride in it has been the point for as long as religion has been used as an excuse to other us. Is it still your choice not to? Absolutely. It's a respectable choice. But so is mine.

If you're spend more time being worried about the language that other queer people use in their fanfiction/daily life where it does relatively little harm than the very real threats several hate groups and governments pose to our existence, all that's likely to do is cultivate the kind of infighting that those same threats hope will keep us distracted so it's easier to legislate our lives away. I know that sounds extreme, but at this point that's the reality. My original response may have been annoying clownery, but now I'm fully serious. The moment you step back and resolve your feelings about people saying "I'm going to hell for this," and find something to focus on in the manner of either supporting yourself or others in a way that encourages growth, who knows. Maybe you'll get the joke, then. But that's still your preference and your choice.

the fact that “i’m going to hell for this” hasn’t dropped out of the lexicon for writing/reading smut pisses me off so much

[desiredmalfoy]

Love Lost (D.M. x Reader)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Universe: No Voldy but still pain in this story.

Genre: Angst! And more Angst!

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: The reader feels like she’s losing Draco to Astoria. Does he still love her? Will he fix it?

Warning: Some bad words? Not too many.

{Draco Masterlist} { Main Masterlist }

(Credit to the gif owner)

I was in a mood for angst today lol. After having writers block for so long I finally came up with this. Hopefully I can finish my wips, ships and requests soon! Let me know if you want a part 2

You usually didn’t have a problem with any of Draco’s friends. Sure, some of them could be real idiots but for the most part they were nice to you. But you had recently ran into a problem, and her name was Astoria Greengrass. She was Daphne’s little sister who painfully obviously had a crush on your boyfriend. You hated seeming like an over jealous girlfriend, so you didn’t know how to truly react to this.

He had begun to spend more time with her after she had practically begged him for help in potions. She had come up to him in the common room when you were studying and pleaded with him for help. Her eyes seemed to sparkle when he finally agreed.

He seemed reluctant at first but ultimately agreed. He had said to you, “I’m only helping her so that she doesn’t tell her parents I refused. Last thing I need is my parents' comments.”

It had started innocent, he would help her twice a week in the library. As the weeks progressed, they were hanging out more and more often. He would finish quidditch practice and then meet her in the common room. Telling you that he would see you later but later never came.

He had even forgotten one of your dates. He apologized profusely and promised to make it up to you. He didn’t, he forgot too.

One date became two and then you lost count. You were tired of being disappointed.

You had walked into the common room after spending the evening studying with Pansy. All your friends had gotten together to study for an upcoming potions exam. All except Draco who didn’t show up. After walking in, that’s when you saw the two of them sitting in a corner table of the common room. You felt your stomach drop. Your mouth began to dry up and it felt sticky. You didn’t know how to react.

“What an arse”, Pansy mumbled to you. She reached for your hand to give it as squeeze. Letting you know she’s there for you. She had heard you complain all the time, she knew the pain you felt. And she was over seeing you getting walked over.

“Oh looks who’s here (y/n)! We finally found him!” Pansy exclaimed dramatically. This caused the two of them to break from their world and turn to the two of you.

“What do you mean Parkinson?” Draco asked, breaking the silence in the room. The air felt stifling. Astoria only looked up at you and Pansy, not making a comment.

“We were all meant to study together.” Pansy answered bluntly. “Did you forget that too Malfoy?”

“What the bloody hell do you mean?”

“You seem to forget everything as of late” You got the courage to speak up suddenly, beating Pansy. You glanced over at her as she gave you an encouraging look.“ I mean you always seem to forget our dates.”

The lump in your throat grew more and more by the second.

“Babe I-”

“I’m getting quite tired. It’s been a long steady session. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” You interrupted him, stopping him before he spoke. You had enough of this and the last thing you needed was for them to see you cry.

You let go of Pansy's hand and adjusted the strap of your bag. You made your way towards your dorm, trying to get out of there as fast as possible.

You walked into your dorm, slamming it shut. You threw your book bag across the room. Letting out some of the anger you felt. You grabbed a pillow from your bed and threw it at the door. You threw yourself onto your bed, frustrated beyond belief. The door opened and revealed the last person you wanted to see.

“What are we exactly”, you asked bluntly as he walked into your dorm. Draco looked at you confused as he looked towards you.

“What do you even mean?”

“I mean I don’t feel like your girlfriend anymore.” You rolled your eyes at his lack of comprehension. “You barely want to be around me it seems. I haven’t seen you in days Draco but you know who has? Astoria.”

“Don’t be bloody ridiculous (y/n). She’s my friend and nothing more. You’re overreacting.” It was his turn to roll his eyes at you.

You stood up suddenly and went to stand face to face with you. “Really? A friend is someone who’s super touchy with you? Someone who openly flirts with you?”

“She’s my friend! You’re just jealous!” His face was becoming redder with anger.

“You’re so draft Draco!” You threw your hands up in anger. Your voice rising slightly in pitch as you kept on getting angrier. “Everyone can see it! Hell, even Crabbe asked me if I was even still your girlfriend. You know how bloody obvious it has to be for that git to see it?”

“You know you wouldn’t like it if it was another guy treating me the way Astoria is with you.”

“She doesn’t like me!” He yelled, frustrated at the situation and at himself. Because it was finally dawning on him what a horrible boyfriend he had been these past few weeks. “And it doesn’t matter if she did because I don’t like her! Please understand that (y/n)!”

“Yes it does! Because you don’t set any boundaries and let her do whatever. You let her think you’re interested. And not one time do you stop & think about me.”

“You have forgotten our dates! You literally left me all alone waiting for you in the astronomy tower because you never showed.” You continued your rant and Draco stayed silent at your outburst. He stared at you with wide eyes and shock. He had never seen you like this.

“Did you know I’m not doing the best on potions anymore? I’m struggling and you don’t seem to care Draco. But sure, as long as Astoria is passing it’s okay I guess.” You were crying at this point as you continued you’re rant. Tears freely flowing from your cheeks. You hated crying, you hated seeming weak.

Draco attempted to wipe the tears from your cheeks but you moved away. Not wanting him to touch you right now. You let out a deep breath, voice quivering. “I don’t know how much more I can handle. My heart can’t take much more.”

“What do you mean darling? I love you. Please (y/n), I love you so much. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I think you’re a little too late for that.”

“Please. Please think about this. I’m so sorry.” He was now starting to cry himself, something that was rare for him. He didn’t just cry for anyone. But his tears didn’t take away the hurt he had caused.

“You’ve broken my trust. You’ve hurt me. It’s going to take more than saying I’m sorry to let this all go.”

“I’ll do anything love.”

“You have to see where your heart lies. If you do actually love me, you’ll have to gain my trust back Draco.”

“Babe…” he grabbed your cheeks titling your head to look at him in the eyes. Both your eyes shining from the tears. “I’ll do that and so much more.”

“For the sake of our relationship, I hope you mean it. But I think I need some time to myself tonight and maybe tomorrow too.” You grabbed his hands, taking them away from your face. You gave them a slight squeeze before letting them go. Hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time you held them.

He left without saying another word. As you watched him walk out of your dorm, you dropped to the floor. Letting all the emotions of the past weeks flowing out. All the hurt, all the sadness and all the angry flowing down your cheeks.

Thoughts? Part 2??

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[natalie-k-pan]

10 Ways the Loki show Disappointed Me

part two

6) The trailer was misleading advertising. Marvel’s done it in the past with little to no backlash:

Iron Man 3 presenting the Mandarin as the ultimate foe for Tony to defeat, only to find out he’s a charlatan in a minor role.

Falcon and Winter Soldier was presented as a light-hearted buddy adventure, only to tackle darker themes about nationalism and racism. (Not saying that those themes were bad, just that the TFAWS’s trailer was not truthful to the story).

In the case of Loki, the trailer presented the plot as Loki making time-traveling shenanigans and being captured for breaking the timeline. They included the D.B Cooper clip, and the scenes of Loki in New York and as king in Asgard. These clips never show up in season 1. The D.B Cooper scene was a off-the-cuff moment, and the highly-anticipated (imo) President Loki was around for five minutes.

The trailer shows the storyline being about Loki breaking the timeline, with Mobius saying in a voiceover, “You picked up the tesseract, breaking reality. I want you to help us fix it.”

Marvel’s publicity team knew what story we would want to see from the character. And that’s not what we got: it was a mix of Loki tagging along with Sylvie to take down the Timekeepers, and detective-esque  scenes of trying to overthrow the TimeKeepers. 

It was never about Loki having an adventure, breaking the timeline, and having to fix it.

There’s a difference between having scenes that don’t make it into the final product, between not revealing enough of the story to spoil plot twists...and deliberately choosing certain scenes and quotes  to present a false version of the story.

I guess Marvel was worried that no one would watch it if they showed us the real product.

7)    Loki’s powers were wildly inconsistent, especially compared to what we’ve seen before.

In the past, we’ve seen Loki do illusions, duplication casting and in Thor 2, some very light telekinesis. After hearing of his mother’s death, he throws several pieces of furniture in into the cell walls with his mind. This is after losing the person who probably mattered most to him at the time, and feeling responsible for her death--it’s a powerful move showing his magical capabilities.

In the show, in Episode 3 we see him pull a Roomba towards himself in order to use it as a shield during a fight--pretty in-line with what we saw in the Dark World.

One episode later, an entire flipping tower is falling towards them, and he reverses it with his mind alone.

It was in the face of death, you say. Of course he was going to pull some cool new magical move.

Sure. In the face of death, I could see him jumping from throwing chairs to something heavier, like maybe a crumbling wall or a fruit stand.

BUT A TOWER?

 WHY?

 HOW??

He’s never done anything on that scale magically. In episode 2, he got tossed around by a (human) Alabama man. Why would he not use that move to bring the roof crumbling down if he was fighting for his life then?

So he’s got massive telepathic power when a building is falling but can’t use it in a fight against regular people.... okay?

Honestly, due to the fact that they’ve weakened him so much, and when Loki said, “I think we’re stronger than we realize”, I’m betting Season 2 will include Loki discovering the extent of his magical powers. 

 I don’t like this idea because again, it contradicts the previous canon. In Thor 1, Hogun literally calls Loki a “master of magic”. He went toe-to-toe with Thor and the Avengers and now can’t beat regular humans. A thousand+ year old being unaware of his own untapped potential doesn’t seem correct (yeah, they did that with Thor in Ragnarok, I know).

This Loki’s power levels jump up and down according to the plot, trying to make us believe that due to his spoiled past, Loki needs to apply himself to learn more about his powers.

 8)  Loki was out of character.

His lying and scheming was way too obvious. I was incredibly confused the first couple of episodes because it would be strange how he would be a pathetic buffoon  one minute and yet The only moment I was sold on his competence as a liar was episode 2 at the renaissance fair where he attempts to fool  the TVA. He was actually competent for once, but he gets caught, and goes into apologizing and sucking up 30 seconds later.   

He gets drunk when they’re on the mission on Lamentis. This didn’t make sense--when he was trying to conquer Earth, he had the opportunity to also goof off and he’s always been shown to take things seriously, with the exception of Ragnarok.                                                 

The “I’m a narcissist” scene. While Loki is the type to crave attention--in Avengers, Tony calls him a diva who wants his name plastered to the skies--it comes from a place of feeling overshadowed, never able to match his brother Thor.  Which we can see has some basis:

In Thor 1, his adopted parents raised him to hate his race,

lied to him about it,

 and when he was hanging over an wormhole, his father finally rejected him.

In Avengers, Thor tells him in  that his slights are “imagined”. 

 Thor 2, his adopted father told him his “birthright was to die”.

While it doesn’t excuse his actions in Thor and Avengers, it’s pretty clear that his family, particularly his father, have let him down.

So to make him experience character development and understand why he does what he does...the writers took him back to Asgard, and had Sif beat him up repeatedly until he admits he does terrible things because he’s a...narcissist.

It was pretty hard to watch that scene, especially because I related to Loki as someone who felt overshadowed and overlooked. He tried too hard to be what his family wanted, to show that he was “the worthy son”.

But here in the fantastic year of 2021, this show decided to throw away all of that emotional nuance away.

 9) The costumes were bad.

The brown variant jacket with its ugly orange block letters.

The guard suit on Lamentis looked like a cross between a purple sweater and a plague doctor mask. honestly makes me shuder to see it

Loki’s green-and-gold costumes are some of the most distinct, instantly recognizable outfits of the MCU. And he almost immediately loses it in the first episode. It ends being given to Sylvie, (like most of Loki’s better characteristics) and he stays in a detective skinny-tie suit instead. The costume is okay, but it lacks the flair and style he’s had previously, and he never gains it back.

10) The season finale really did showcase this show in the best way-- ig hype followed by disappointment.

For five episodes, we rushed towards the ultimate villain, the mastermind behind it all. Episode 6 was like...being handed a pack of bubble wrap, swinging your hand hard, expecting that satisfying pop! only to have it slowly putter out with a sad little sound.

First, Kang looked like he got his costume from Party City. The purple cape isn’t doing him any favors. Then, the man sat there and monologued for forty minutes, making jokes, telling us how he set the plot up, and how the multiverse worked.

 I know Marvel gets flack for there always being an CGI climactic action scene, but…they had 6 episodes leading up to the Big Bad, and for it to end that anticlimactically with a man in a Party City purple cape was a letdown. The finale had no menace, no teeth. In the words of Mobius, it was just…talkie-talkie.

All in all, this show really suffered from ignoring Loki’s past, where he would realistically be emotionally-wise, and a lack of focus on its title character’s development. Settings and costumes being better/unique would be also be nice, especially given its popularity. At the end of the day, I don’t see the character I empathized so strongly with in this show.

[j0ne-jjk]

Sex with the Members

Pairing: OT7 Characters: Seokjin, Hoseok, Taehyung, Jimin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook Genre: Smut Rating: M 

I originally put this together for an adult BTS group in another location online and it was so popular there, I wanted to post it here for posterity. 

As a reminder: these are OPINIONS. I do not know the guys, nor do I claim to have any actual knowledge of their intimate styles. So if you don’t like it, don’t come at me. 

Seokjin

Jin ultimately wants to ensure his significant other feels safe, comfortable, and desired. He makes it his priority to communicate to his partner how beautiful he finds them.

Jin would be kind and gentle, enjoying slow, sensual love-making over rough and fierce sex. He is constantly checking in with is partner, making sure they are doing okay and still feeling good.

Eventually, he would recognize that he has a praise kink - both for giving and receiving. 

Though not a deal-breaker, Jin would prefer his partner be shorter/smaller than he is so he can feel physically protective. 

To Jin, sex is just another way to express his love to his significant other. He would be willing to explore different kinks, seeing that as a time to create a deeper, more meaningful, trust-filled bond with his partner. 

During kink exploration, he would realize that he likes being choked, so that’s fun... 

Jin’s moans would be loud and slightly nasally. Lots of romantic pet names. He would love to hear his significant other’s moans as well and would encourage them to make noise. 

SEX PLAYLIST: sweet, sappy, Korean ballads.

Hoseok

Hoseok is made of pure sunshine and is always ready with a smile and gentle, encouraging word for his significant other. He would love the times they can laugh together until their sides ache. Hobi’s primary love language is Quality Time, and he would thrive on evening walks along a quiet riverbank, hand in hand, stealing kisses in the privacy of a grove of trees. 

In the bedroom, his sunny personality would continue to shine. Hobi would shower his partner with praise and find little opportunities for giggles throughout sex (slight tickling kink??). He would enjoy making up cute nicknames for his partner and himself in addition to the cute, sappy classics like “jagiya”. 

Hoseok is naturally humble and selfless and prefers to focus on his partner’s pleasure first, while forgetting about his own. When his significant other makes a move to return the favor, Hobi would break out in his signature heart-shaped smile, eyes twinkling with affection. 

Now, our sunshine isn’t necessarily vanilla. Don’t forget, this man is hella flexible, fit, and has killer dancer’s hips. Hoseok would use all of these to his advantage to alternate between pounding into his partner and rolling his hips at just the right angle to hit their sweet spot. 

Hobi’s moans would start out surprisingly low, back in his throat but move higher and more desperate as he gets closer to his release. 

SEX PLAYLIST: 90s rap.

Taehyung

Taehyung is a Daddy Dom, no doubt about it. 

He’s strict, regal, classy, and expects a well-mannered sub. Taehyung would be called Sir and would call his sub kitten or little one. 

He likes seeing his sub in rope or leather bondage and sometimes blindfolded. Taehyung enjoys using toys and light degradation (though nothing too extreme of course, he’s no savage). He will train his sub in edging and orgasm denial, loving the feeling of complete control that he has over them. 

Taehyung would be relatively quiet in the bedroom, more focused on giving instruction and listening to his sub. His moans would be deep and gravelly, much like his singing voice. 

Like any good Dom, Taehyung understands the importance of good aftercare and always tends to his significant other after sex, ensuring they return to a safe emotional space. As soon as the scene is over, Taehyung’s personality changes from demanding Dom to cuddly bear, ready to care for his darling. 

Outside of the bedroom, Taehyung is attentive and doting to his significant other. Of course, he can also be slightly pouty at times, but that can always be fixed with well-timed snuggles, hugs, and forehead kisses.   

SEX PLAYLIST: moody jazz.

Jimin

Listen to me when I tell you: Jimin is a freak in the sheets. It is a fact and no one can tell me otherwise. Some days he would want to be in charge, telling his partner exactly how to please him (power bottom, anyone?), and some days he would be the picture perfect pillow princess. 

Jimin would be willing to try pretty much anything, as long as it wasn’t gross. If he was with a girl, it wouldn’t be long into the relationship before Jimin would bring up his interest in pegging and strap-ons. 

Not shy, Jimin is the kind to send suggestive messages, nude photos, and even videos of himself playing when he’s away from his partner. 

He also loves getting head. Jimin will use his puppy eyes to ask for a blow job at the most inconvenient times. All he needs is a dark corner or broom closet and fifteen minutes and he’ll have his partner convinced and on their knees for him in no time. 

Though his hands are small, he knows how to use his pretty mouth to get his significant other off. Jimin is a fan of teasing and overstimulation (best of both worlds?) and is more than happy to spend quality time with his mouth between his partner’s legs.

Jimin’s moans would be loud, clear, and high, just like his voice. He would babble praises and curse continually, begging his partner to keep going as he nears his climax.

SEX PLAYLIST: dirty, sexy pop music.

Yoongi

It’s no secret that Yoongi is introverted but desires deep emotional and physical connection. He takes his time getting to know his significant other well enough to reach the point of physical intimacy. 

PDA is kept to a minimum, with the exception of hand holding- Yoongi loves holding hands. His large, piano-player hands fit perfectly around those of his significant other, his thumb rubbing gently over their knuckles, fingers squeezing occasionally as a soft reminder of, “I’m still here.” 

The best date is an evening in the Genius Lab, sitting side by side, shoulders touching, taking frequent kiss breaks (it “helps with the writers block”, he claims). Since music is the most important thing to Yoongi, sharing it with his partner is almost as intimate as physical contact. The first time Yoongi shares a new, unfinished song with his significant other, his hands and sweating and his body is trembling like the first time he had sex. 

In the bedroom, Yoongi is attentive, intentional and deliberate. He takes his time to learn everything he possibly can about his partner’s body and pleasure. Sex is slow and sensual, with both bodies pressed fully together to feel as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. 

Yoongi would be relatively quiet during sex, more likely to let out deep gasps and low groans. Occasionally as he reaches his high, his voice cracks in a particularly high-pitched moan, causing a blush to spread across cheeks. Being more of an auditory person, Yoongi would revel in his partner’s moans, encouraging them to make noise. 

Though he appreciates a good blow job, Yoongi actually prefers hand jobs because he can still kiss his partner. 

And of course, I’m not going to let you forget about that Tongue Technology... 

SEX PLAYLIST: underground Korean rap.

Namjoon

Namjoon’s main desire is to express his love for his significant other. Whether it’s a sweet mid morning text, a surprise lunch delivery, or (an attempt at) freshly baked cookies, Joon is always looking for ways to show his partner how much they mean to him. He’s the epitome of romantic. 

With Namjoon, it’s not “sex” but “making love”, and it is sure to be romantic and sensual. Joon wants to make sure his significant other feels beautiful, and enjoys body worship, both given and received. 

Kink exploration is somewhat rare, but Namjoon will try things out if his partner asks. He draws the line at anything that causes pain because it worries him to think that his clumsiness could surface, causing real harm to his partner. 

Aftercare is as important as the actual sex to Joon. He wants to bathe or shower and then cuddle while either talking quietly, watching a movie, or going to sleep.

Namjoon’s moans are deep and low, and during intimacy, his speaking voice is so deep it almost disappears. He speaks in both English and Korean, and groans out so many curse words, it’s almost like he’s invented some of his own. 

SEX PLAYLIST: 90s R&B and slow jams.

Jungkook

Jungkook sheds both his oversized clothing and bad boy stage persona in the bedroom. Always the maknae, he would want to be taken care of during sex. He would love being called “baby boy” or “baby bun” and thrives on praise. Degradation and harsh words would crush him and ruin the mood almost immediately. 

Sometimes bratty (by choice, of course), Jungkook would occasionally inform his significant other that “Kookie needs to be punished.” His favorite punishments include edging and orgasm denial, spanking, and choking. 

Of course, he did work hard for those muscles and has a strength kink for sure. One of his favorite positions is holding his significant other up either pressed up against the wall or with their legs wrapped around his slim waist, while slamming into them. 

Oral is another favorite activity, and Jungkook absolutely loves eating his partner out. It makes his heart so giddy to know that he is the one completely responsible for the pleasure his significant other is feeling. Getting head often makes him cum embarrassingly fast, turning him into a blushing, whining mess.

Jungkook would be very vocal during sex, begging, moaning, and whimpering. His sounds would be high and sweet, with lots of heavy breathing and gasps included. 

SEX PLAYLIST: Ariana Grande or dark, moody music.

[morrisxn02]

parker had approached with great care, footsteps padded by the grass that surrounded much of the river. perhaps she should’ve made her presence known—cleared her throat, made a particularly loud step, hummed a tune—to give eddie the time to gather himself, make himself whatever version of presentable he saw fit. it was something her mother would advise, under the guise of respect for others. then again, parker took far less interest in the presentable versions of people than the versions of themselves that blossomed in private.

maybe that made her a bit of a snoop, head unconsciously tilting forward as the morrison boy’s familiar voice floated into the air. whatever, no one was perfect.

—was that macbeth?

the intrigue grew as parker neared, now only a few feet away. she made an attempt to peer around eddie’s back at whatever he was holding, but was unsuccessful—and, in doing so, had given herself away. the response, the shock, was almost laughable, the ogden pullover- and sweatpants-donning redhead quite possibly the antithesis of frightening.

“no, don’t apologize, that makes no sense,” she insisted, coming to step around him, “i’m sorry.” her chin tilted downward, eyes flickering toward the sketchbook in his lap. “would it help if i also recited something? uh,” she took a few steps backwards, posture straightening in that transformative way that screamed theatre kid.

“tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time.” arms outstretched, parker’s brows creased as though a new thought had just entered her head and she took a decided step to the left. “and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. out, out, brief candle! life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage—and then is heard no more.” she turned swiftly back toward eddie, tone having dipped into something a bit more foreboding. not that the rollercoaster was coming to an end, both arms then flying upward as parker took another charged step in the opposite direction. “ it is a tale told by an idiot,“ a pointed finger now whipped toward the young man, a jesting grin tugging at her lips, “full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

parker held the moment a couple seconds longer before swooping into a big bow. “thank you, thank you. please, don’t wear yourself out with applause.”

His tense, cautious posture suddenly eases as his companion reveals herself, a familiar, friendly face shimmering golden under the light of the breaking dawn. Parker Walsh is a fond memory. She is summers in the Hamptons, she is childish chaos and mischief, running around the beach late at night with a flare stick they took from one of their parents’ boats, she is growing and maturing with the feeling that somebody understands you. She – along with her two brothers – is one of the few true, close friends he genuinely adores. Edward would hardly be this sincere with her – he was unable to mirror all the emotion he deposited on his own characters – but the smile that colored his features as their eyes met certainly got the message across.

He does not protest her offer to recite more verses of the play in order to aid his writer’s block, geeky tomfoolery like that was exactly what brought them close, in the first place. Ultimately, he is unable to focus on developing his narrative and becomes too absorbed in her own portrayal of the Scottish king to envision anything else for his project. And once she reaches the somber, staggering last line in the monologue, Edward erupts into applause. “Bravo, bravo.” He cracks up fearlessly, knowing no one is around to watch them. “I mean, Denzel nailed It in the movie, but you? You just raised the bar so high.” Some people are born to play Shakespearean heroes, some are born to play villains, rebels, fools, and so on. Parker, somehow, had the vigor necessary to play any character she wanted. He has only seen her on stage a couple of times, but her talent is undeniable. Brutal and gentle, intense, and restrained all at the same time. She really has something magnetic about her whenever she gets up on stage that he could hardly put into words. And, although his previous compliment was slightly exaggerated because he knows she only did that bit to humor him, he also knows she is filled to the brim with unmeasurable talent just awaiting its release.

At that point, Edward just accepts he will not be able to focus anymore. Not because of her, but because his brain had given up on trying to come up with decent ideas after his second coffee cup at three in the morning. Muse sometimes comes to him in the wee hours of the morning, and he usually spends these quiet moments coming up with storyboards, reviewing lines and more lines of code, and writing scripts. Instead of pushing the helpless right hemisphere of his brain, Edward just throws his things carelessly into his briefcase. “Coffee?” He suggests, pulling himself up, briefcase hanging from his shoulder. “You know, when you become bigger than Florence Pugh, I’m going to be the first one to stand up for you and defend you in the face of the nepotism allegations.”

[miraculouscontent]

All the thoughts:

First off, the plan.

I don’t get Shadow Moth’s plan or Optigami in general. Like, it was already weird that we had the phone that picked up on a kwami’s voice (I’ll hold my tongue on that one until we have all the episodes that take place before this, though my hopes aren’t high), but both Optigami and the phone happening in the same episode when it’s been resaid in this season that kwami can’t be seen/heard by technology is just silly. I get that Optigami is a sentimonster so it’s “magic technology,” but I dunno, something feels weird about it.

The reason I bring it up is because what’s shown contradicts what happens later in the episode. The footage shown by Optigami shows Carapace de-transforming and Wayzz popping out of the miraculous right afterwards, but when Senti!Carapace and Rena Rouge detransform at the end of the episode, the kwami don’t pop out. The former is also consistent with most detransformations; the kwami usually pops out (for the easiest reference, the beginning of “Miraculer” does this with both Alya and Nino, and Alya detransforming in “Gang of Secrets” also does this).

I presume this was done to force Ladybug to use her Lucky Charm in order to figure out that Senti!Nino was Shadow Moth’s sentimonster, because otherwise I just imagine Wayzz popping out to complain that there’s something in his miraculous and how it isn’t even paying rent.

Gabriel also non-subtly invites “everyone” to the event, yet “everyone” apparently only means conveniently the people who Shadow Moth knows as heroes, plus Marinette for no explained reason whatsoever. Chat Noir could’ve even noted after the fact that everyone invited were past heroes (because he knows Multimouse and probably wouldn’t think “wait, that doesn’t make sense--”), or the characters themselves could’ve noticed it, but that would’ve meant the show pointing out the blatant plothole that Marinette is lobbed in there. This could’ve also been a chance for the characters to all establish, “hey, we were heroes!” and have a cool camaraderie between them (presuming they know that they were outed), but instead they serve no purpose beyond being essentially background characters for Style Queen to tick off like a checklist. They had the perfect moment to do something to give everyone more character and they wasted it to do an unneeded scene of Alya trying to shove Marinette towards Adrien (I’ll get there).

It also puzzles me that Gabriel’s plan was to cause an akuma that would force Ladybug to bring another miraculous when...

Style Queen didn’t cause her to do that?? Now, if one isn’t really thinking (like it seems the writers didn’t) and/or only vaguely remembers the episode (i.e: that Chloe got a miraculous and Queen Bee/Wasp is the immediate follow-up), then they’ll recall that Ladybug did indeed go to Master Fu’s to get a miraculous, but only did she not need it in the end, the reason the Lucky Charm sent her there in the first place was to get Plagg, i.e: the cat.

And yes, Shadow Moth does have Style Queen glitter the building so that no one can get in, which ends up blocking Chat Noir off, but that only works if he knows that Ladybug is in the building but not Chat.

Speaking of Ladybug, and this one is more of a nitpick, but she delays using Miraculous Ladybug and I feel like it could’ve been done better, like if she went to use it but stopped herself because something didn’t feel right, but instead she points out the weirdness of not using her Lucky Charm while not thinking further on it until she sees the handshake. Regardless of the comments she makes towards the Lucky Charm, the episode leaves a weird feeling of, “Why haven’t you used Miraculous Ladybug yet? The akuma is gone.” Marinette even saw the sentimonster, which clearly isn’t Style Queen, yet the episode forgets about it because--oh wait, it was just there to build up to an attempted identity reveal that went nowhere.

So, yeah--the elevator...

Say it with me: it’s stupid, it’s pointless, it makes no sense, it serves no meaning to the plot, its only roles in the episode is for love square fuel and to embarrass Marinette.

And on that last note, I know I said I’d keep quiet on the phone, but I swear, if it’s not explained in any form why the kwami can communicate with her, then it was literally just invented so that it could startle/embarrass her.

Also, to the surprise of no one, the kwami who live with her still don’t understand how to deal with her. :|

Not only does the scene draaaaag and the chances of Adrien and Marinette not only thinking of the same hiding place (an elevator, something that both makes no sense because Style Queen can easily pop up if she hears the elevator, but also that they rarely ever choose as a transforming spot; in fact, I can’t think of a time they’ve chosen an elevator??), but also happening to pick the same elevator.

As for it making no sense, the identity reveal was completely unnecessary. Either of them telling the other their identity would’ve done nothing, and even if they planned to tell the other to block the eyes watching them so they could transform, it wouldn’t matter, because that just makes it obvious what they’re doing. Plus, if the concern was needing to tell the other so they could get out of the elevator somehow, then there would’ve been no reason not to tell them after the eyes were gone. Marinette could’ve texted Alya at any time when they were being quiet.

And as if the setup wasn’t already contrived enough, Nathalie takes far too long to leave Adrien and Marinette alone. Optigami goes into the elevator on Nathalie’s orders (which is the whole thing that makes the two go quiet and consider doing a reveal in the first place), and it takes fourty seconds before Nathalie finally notes that it’s just Adrien and Marinette. Like, unless she got up to make a sandwich before she analyzed the footage, I just--???

Anyway, the last thing to really talk about is Alya and oh my gosh, the sheer amount of double standards here...

Like, just starting with the scene where Alya physically shoves Marinette towards the elevator, despite Marinette’s protests, it just makes me shake my head all the more, especially after “Mr. Pigeon 72.” I already knew the show wasn’t going to follow up on the whole “when you’re ready” stuff in “Gang of Secrets,” and “Mr. Pigeon 72″ just forwarded that with Alya immediately pressing for Adrien, but I didn’t expect Alya to try and force things this hard.

Just gonna add as well that both Luka and Kagami saw Alya do this, which would’ve been a great opportunity for it to trigger alarm bells for both of them (Luka going, “oh, it’s no wonder Marinette struggles with Adrien when--” and Kagami like, “hey this is familiar, almost like Marinette thought it was okay because it happens to her all the time and maybe I should step in to say something”; by the way, for those who want another fix-it, yeah, that’d what it’d be), because Marinette was literally totally fine until Alya tried to force the matter.

But again, blatant show of “fine if it’s for the love square, not fine if it’s not.”

And after “Mr. Pigeon 72″ and now this, do the writers really think that I wasn’t going to notice the fact that Marinette is only getting the “damsel in distress” role now that the kwami and Alya are conveniently there to save her? It’s like they knew the backlash that would happen from Marinette telling Alya her identity (the rightfully deserved backlash, not even because of the identity thing - I understand narratively that Marinette was at her breaking point, though the timing is awful - but because Alya was like--one of the worst choices), so they decided to justify it by having Marinette be put into peril multiple times this season to the degree where Alya would have to swoop in and save her. Essentially, they’re nerfing their protagonist and forcing her into these situations to lift Alya up and make Alya look like a better/more intelligent friend.

Marinette didn’t need a confidant because she was constantly one step away from danger, she needed one emotionally, yet now the show has been continuously letting Alya figure out important guardian matters and saving Marinette’s backside because apparently, “Marinette is more emotionally stable now that she has someone who knows her secret,” wasn’t enough. Handing Alya the win on Lila and either ignoring or excusing all of her past actions to make her look good wasn’t enough.

Trying to make everything about Adrien instead of Marinette wasn’t enough. Now they’re throwing in Alya and giving her stuff to do while Marinette sits idly and just waits to be saved. Yes, Marinette ultimately does the most in the end and Alya screws up, but what happens?

Alya gets rewarded for it. She gets to have the fox miraculous given to her permanently, which the narrative lowkey chided Marinette for not doing (with Trixx’s snippy comments and Alya pulling a “Gang of Secrets” where she’s suddenly 100% “on Marinette’s side” so that it makes it feel like she deserves whatever she’s going to be given). The show is both setting Marinette up to fail so they can continue having their drama (regardless of how well permanent Rena Rouge goes, they wanted to leave the episode on a cliffhanger) and getting on her case for breathing while rewarding other characters after they’ve failed.

Which, spoiler alert for the next episode, ends up working out, thus making it the “”“right”““ decision. Apparently Marinette is meant to suffer and be given all these consequences/embarrassment when she screws up, but people like Adrien Alya get rewarded and given a free pass to do whatever they want with no consequences (Marinette doesn’t even remotely get on Alya’s case or be upset that Alya made decisions without her; even Fu gave Marinette, Tikki, and Plagg a look in “Sandboy” and made them explain/apologize; but of course, that’s because Marinette was involved, I guess).

And... look, it’d be one thing for Marinette to want an understudy, or to want someone to have a permanent miraculous as a form of protection in case she needs it, but Alya wasn’t even suspicious when Senti!Nino didn’t give her their usual high-five. Alya claims to be this great reporter and tries to imply in “Gang of Secrets” that she suddenly knows all things about Marinette, yet doesn’t change her expression at all when the person she thinks is her boyfriend gives her a regular high-five instead of the one they made up? I guess the show wanted to give Ladybug something more after Alya and Kaalki did a chunk of the work, but if they wanted to present Alya as a worthy guardian, then that should’ve set off red flags, especially after the whole Ladybug reveal and Alya realizing that Lila’s full of it (which I know still hasn’t been shown but if she’s gonna be Ladybug’s confidant then she has to step up her suspicion game).

Like, I don’t know if they’re just trying to have Alya work off any bad things that the fandom might have on her, but with this episode and the next episode, it just feels like they want Alya to stay in the role that she had with Marinette: the “Alya knows best, is presented as a supportive friend, and has a leg up on Marinette in terms of mental/power dynamic.”

Because, despite knowing that she’s Ladybug now, Alya’s relationship with Marinette really hasn’t changed. She’s still forcing Marinette into situations with Adrien, she’s still got the doubtful eyebrow raise whenever Marinette does “Marinette things,” and Alya still has the, “I got you, girl!” attitude about everything, even if she really doesn’t have Marinette’s back in the right way. Heck, even the kwami (or at least Trixx) seems to go to Alya over Marinette, the kwami themselves just whining and behaving like children around Marinette herself.

At this point, why not just hand Alya the ladybug earrings and call it a day? If Alya’s not only an understudy for being guardian but is also apparently going to keep saving Marinette, she’s clearly “better,” and that moment with Senti!Nino ended up getting her rewarded, why not just let Marinette hand over the metaphorical mantle and be officially stress-free? Then Paris would have a “““non-clumsy, less emotional, less anxious”““ Ladybug.

Well, because that would mean lessening Marinette’s suffering and the show would be over without that. *sigh*

I don’t know, it’s just upsetting. It’s the "Malediktator”/”Gang of Secrets” thing where Marinette tries to follow something she’s been taught by other characters (who are presented as wiser than her) and it ends up blowing up in her face. “No permanent miraculouses” wasn’t her rule - it was Fu’s - and then the show immediately chides her for it.

Basically, Marinette tries to make her own decisions and it blows up in her face. Marinette tries to follow her own rules and it blows up in her face. It’s the love square all over again: she can’t confess to Adrien, but she can’t move on either.

That’s why “Optigami” is so insulting. It puts its double standards on display for the world to see and sets things up to go exactly the way it wants with no regard to making sense or working to an interesting story.

[15-dogs]

new hire |n.s.|

pairing: newt scamander x apothecary!reader

summary: you’re hired as the new apothecary at newt’s favorite establishment, and he finds himself attending the store more often to buy more and more ridiculous, unneeded items (all the fluff!! coffeeshop (technically apothecary) au, pining)

warnings: none

guide: (Y/N) = your name, italics = writing

word count: 3.9K

a/n: this is my take on a coffeeshop au!! i feel like newt would be more subject to visiting apothecaries than coffeeshops so i used all the basics of a coffeeshop au and changed it to an apothecary!! i hope you like it :)

Newt was positive that his Dittany was somewhere. He shook every drawer upside down, went upstairs to check his bedroom, back downstairs to turn every stone for the second time, then back upstairs to recheck his belongings before he admitted that he was out of it. 

He huffed, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he debated whether or not to pick up Dittany then. He ultimately decided that he didn’t want to risk getting into an accident where it was crucial to have on hand and come up empty so he threw on his vest and coat, making his way towards the apothecary store down the street. It was a small place disguised as a pharmacy on the outskirts of Diagon Alley. The building wouldn’t appear to muggles as it truly was, allowing for wizards to slip in and out unnoticed.

“Oliphant & Bailey’s Medicinal Supply” was painted onto a metal sign that swung outside the store, the metal sign bracket whining every time the wind would pass. Newt smiled at the familiar words before entering, being greeted with the smell of fresh herbs that were drying out on racks by the door. 

His eyes scanned the jars along the shelves, finding the Dittany hidden off to the side from everything else. He let out a content sigh as he attempted to snatch it off the shelf but it didn’t budge. Newt looked around the store with confusion and finally realized just how crowded the place was.

“Mr. Scamander!” a woman called out. Newt whipped around, finding Vancity Oliphant with a trail of boxes floating behind her, her dress robes pressed to perfection. “We haven’t seen you around here in quite some time. Where have you been?”

“Busy, mostly.” Newt shrugged, fiddling with his hands.

Vancity began to twist her wand, various potions flying onto the shelves. “Well, one thing’s for certain: we missed you. We’ve been getting an increase in business recently--” Vancity turned towards Newt, leaning in close “--the whole nonsense that that man, Lockhart, has spun has everyone panicked. He told them that if they don’t turn to holistic medicine, then there would be a greater chance that they would be attacked by a troll. Ridiculous, sure, but business has been outstanding! We even had to get a new hire!”

Newt gave her a placating nod, hoping that the conversation would be over soon. “Right, that’s fantastic-”

“Isn’t it?” Vancity rounded the counter and beckoned Newt to follow her, passing the people in the line who seemed to have been waiting for quite some time. “Anyway, how can I help you, Mr. Scamander?”

Newt nearly sighed with relief at the question finally being asked. “I tried to pick some Dittany up off the shelf, but it wouldn’t budge-”

“About that,” Vancity let out a low breath, dipping her head with disappointment. “With the uptick in sales, we’ve had an uptick in accidents. People were knocking our things off the shelves and it just took too much time to clean up and rebrew and whatnot. So we fixed everything down. Only employees can pick things off the shelf.” Vancity snatched a slip of paper, quill, and inkwell off the counter and slid them towards Newt. “We started to provide customers with these sheets so they can fill out what they need and we pick it up for them.”

Newt, knowing that the sooner it would all be over the better, simply nodded and began to fill out the form. Vancity chuckled before taking the form in her hands.

“One vial of Dittany coming right up, Mr. Scamander.” And just like that, she disappeared into the back room.

Newt glanced around the store and wondered if there was anything else he needed before he left. He spotted a few herbs off in the corner that might be of use but, as his gaze caught on the already irritated line, he decided it was in his best interest to pick them up another time.

“Mr.-...Sarmander?” a voice called out.

Newt whipped around, taken by surprise by the new face. Your face. He felt a strange sensation in his chest when he looked at you, like a sense of warmth had flooded through him. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he had been staring at you for so long.

“Are you Mr. Sarmander?” you repeated, shaking the bottle of Dittany in your hand.

“Scamander,” he corrected as he approached you.

Your cheeks heated up at the mistake. “My apologies, Mr. Scamander. I just read what was off the paper but apparently I wasn’t looking closely enough.”

“I have truly terrible handwriting.” That was a lie. Newt didn’t know where it came from. “Thank you.”

“Have a lovely afternoon, Mr. Scamander!”

He would have one now.

•••

Newt was having some trouble making progress on his novel in the next few days. He had barely drafted a page of anything because he was too focused on the interaction that the two of you had only 4 days prior.

He knew you were kind. He could see it in your eyes. Even if he only spoke to you for just a moment, he knew it was true. And you had a lovely smile. One that was so lovely you must’ve flashed it at everyone and left them thinking about it as much as Newt was.

Newt shook his head, breaking himself from the trance he was in to look at his blank page. Writer’s block was not faring well with him. So he stood up and threw his jacket on, realizing he could do with the fresh air. As he was leaving his house, he stopped short in the doorway, snatching some money from his kitchen table. He might as well grab some more herbs while he was out.

No more than 15 minutes later Newt was entering Oliphant & Bailey’s. The store was empty for once, but he figured it would be for a Monday morning. Newt made his way to the counter, rocking back and forth as he awaited an attendant. To his dismay, Rita Bailey revealed herself from the back room.

“Mr. Scamander!” she cried. Rita leaned over the counter, furiously shaking his hands in hers. “How have you been?” Newt opened his mouth but she didn’t give him time to answer before she was speaking again. 

“I heard you were in here a few days ago. It’s not often that we see you in here twice a week. Are you out on something?” Rita’s eyes widened as she seemed to beat her own question in her head. She leaned unbearably close over the counter and whispered, “Is your Swooping Evil not producing? Because Vance and I have some products in the back. Stuff on the side, if you-”

Vancity, who stood in the doorway of the office, cleared her throat, calling the attention of her partner. Rita’s head whipped around, a sheepish grin plastered on her face.

“Rita,” began Vancity, her voice stern, “I need you in back to help with the budget.”

Rita stood to her full height, motioning towards Newt. “Well, who’s gonna help Scamander, then?”

Vancity leaned into her office, speaking to someone with a jerk of head towards the shop. There was a muffled reply and the sound of shoes clicking against hardwood, pacing around the back room.

Newt’s heart began to beat just a little faster. He didn’t want to get his hopes up for nothing. Then he caught himself. What was he getting his hopes up for? He wasn’t expecting anything, and he certainly didn’t care if you were there or not. It’s not like the back of his neck flushed and his cheeks started to heat up when he saw you exiting the back room.

“Mr. Scamander,” you stated. Newt let out a shaky breath; your voice was so smooth, the words sounded almost practiced as they fell from your lips. 

You brushed one hand off on the little apron that was tied around your waist and the other was used to magic a quill and inkwell onto the counter. You reached into your apron to pull out a slip of paper, dotting your quill into the ink. “How can I help you today?”

“I need some ingredients,” he shot out quickly, looking down at the counter.

You chuckled softly as you scribbled in a box, drawing his attention upwards. “What kinds of ingredients?”

Newt took in a sobering breath as you finally met his gaze. For a moment, he forgot what he came there for. “Mandrake root and Moonflower Pollen.”

You gave him a dutiful nod as you jotted the items down. You tossed the quill and paper up in the air, the quill finding its place by the inkwell and the paper rolling itself up and flying into a cupboard below your legs.

You scooted out from behind the desk, walking up past Newt towards the racks of herbs. You picked up the dried up roots of a Mandrake, holding it up at him. “This one okay, Mr. Scamander?”

“Perfect.”

You moved to another counter, freeing a small paring knife from your apron. “I have to ask you, Mr. Scamander,” you began as you chopped up the root, “you seem to be buying a lot of medicinal supplies. Are you a Healer?”

Newt chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “No, I’m a Magizoologist.”

You halted in your motions, looking up at him. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” His response was no more than a single exhale, the words barely forming as he stared into your eyes. He finally peeled himself away from your gaze to continue. “With the creatures I work with, some healing skills are of great use.”

You hummed in response. “I can imagine.” Flicking your wand, a small mortar and pestle flew to your side. With the blade of your knife, you scooped the chopped up root into the bowl and began to grind it to a fine powder. “You know, I was always interested in Care of Magical Creatures back at Hogwarts. I was never all that good at it, though. Not like I was with Herbology.”

Newt’s eyes were trained on the root being cut up, too afraid that looking would cause him to meet your occasional glance up and make a fool of himself. “I’m actually writing a book on magical creatures at the moment.”

“Really?”

“If you’d ever like to study magical creatures again, I could give you a copy.” Newt’s heart began to flutter at the way your eyes lit up.

You stopped in your motions of preparing his Mandrake Root, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “That would be wonderful.”

After packaging up the now-crushed root into a small, beat up tin and handing it to Newt, you paced around the counter with another tin in hand. You approached a glass jar full of yellow pollen in it, using the scoop inside to portion out a generous amount.

“How’s this, Mr. Scamander?” 

You tilted the tin towards him, Newt leaning in to examine the contents. Before he could answer, a quiet sneeze came from his coat. You pulled the container back, your brows furrowed as Newt became flushed. He hesitated to reach into his coat, turning to the side as he pulled Pickett, his Bowtruckle, out and scolding him just out of earshot.

“No, Pick, I didn’t forget about-...she didn’t know you were-...don’t blame this on her! She did nothing-”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted. Newt froze, cocking his head to see you practically leaning over his shoulder. “I have to ask, is that a Bowtruckle?”

Newt exchanged a glance with Pickett before popping him into his pocket, Pickett’s head resting just outside of the heavy fabric to stare you down. “Yes, he is.” You fought a giggle as you leaned down to stare at Pickett in the eyes. “He has some-”

“Attachment issues?” you finished. Newt’s eyes went wide as he gave you a nod. A smile flickered onto his lips for just a moment. You looked up at Newt from your position then stood to your full height. “I’ve heard of that being the case with Bowtruckles before.”

Newt simply nodded again, too distracted by the fact that you were just inches from his face. For just a moment he could have sworn that he saw your eyes flicker down to his lips, his breath getting caught in his throat.

“I have just the thing for your Bowtruckle,” you whispered before moving away towards another shelf.

Newt shivered and let out a sigh, his chest thundering. Finally, he realized you had moved away and followed, watching with a close eye as you broke off the tiny fruit of a strange purple herb that he couldn’t place.

“What’s his name?” you asked while you pulled the fruit into halves.

“Pickett.”

You turned around, offering a half of the fruit to Pickett. Pickett perked up, looking up at Newt for permission. You chuckled at the interaction while Newt pulled Pickett out, letting him sit on his finger.

“Well then, this is for you, Pickett.”

Pickett shared one more look with Newt before taking the fruit and gnawing on it instantly. He let out a happy squeak and jumped onto your arm, crawling up to your shoulder as he continued to snack on the fruit.

Newt let out an impressed laugh at the sight. “Pick doesn’t quite like strangers,” he explained.

You turned your head to eye the happy Bowtruckle, petting him with the pad of your index finger. “Suppose we’re not strangers anymore, are we, Pick?”

“Newt,” Newt shot out quickly. He continued to stare at his fingers while he toyed with them. “You can call me Newt.”

Newt only looked up when he saw your hand come into his field of vision, all delicate and strong. He took your extended hand and shook with careful vigor, the corner of his lips quirking upwards.

“Then consider us friends, too, Newt. I’m (Y/N).”

•••

Newt began to frequent the apothecary more often than he needed to. He always seemed to be running out of something, and he always seemed to arrive just when the rush died down. His list of items he needed appeared to grow longer and longer with each visit, but you never once gave his service to another employee.

The thought of you ran tirelessly through Newt’s head at night. His heart would beat just the slightest bit faster when he thought of that gorgeous smile you would flash him when he walked through the door, almost like you were expecting him to be there. 

Oh, Merlin, and that disarming chuckle that tumbled from your lips when he would trip over his words. It instantly calmed Newt down, his stammer fading away slowly.

Distracted from his writing again, Newt decided to pay you a visit at the apothecary. He snatched the coat of the back of his chair and ran out the door, his heart getting lighter with each step towards the store. Once he arrived, he swung the door open and looked up, only to find that you weren’t there. He frowned, but approached the counter and waited.

“Mr. Scamander!” Vancity cried as she exited the backroom. “How can I help you?”

Newt leaned over slightly, checking to see if you were in the back before the door shut behind Vancity. “Is (Y/N) here?”

Vancity let out an apologetic sigh. “Sorry, Mr. Scamander, she’s out sick.” Newt opened his mouth to speak but Vancity predicted his next question, silencing him immediately. “She doesn’t know when she’ll be back, either.”

“Oh. Right.” Newt focused on the counter, trying not to meet that horribly embarrassing sympathetic look that crowded Vancity’s face. “Will she be okay?”

“She’ll be perfectly fine. Nothing she can’t handle. It is her job to supply medicinal supplements, after all. Now, is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, actually.”

Newt wasn’t sure what Vancity said left-- his mind was too full with strange thoughts about the nature of your relationship. You were friends, weren’t you? That’s what you said to him the day you met Pickett. So if you were just friends, why was he feeling so lost without you there?

Newt took his time walking back to his house, his mind off someone else. He couldn’t help but recall the way you made him feel with your kind heart and witty humor, your soft eyes and enchanting smile. Just remembering that made his cheeks heat up.

As Newt entered his home, he walked into the basement and opened a cupboard to prepare the food for his Glow Bugs when a few tins from Oliphant & Bailey’s fell onto the counter. That’s when it hit him. He didn’t need all those herbs. He never did. So why was he going?

It was so plain. It was all there, the facts laid out in front of him: Newt Scamander had feelings for you. It was so incredibly obvious that he wondered how he didn’t notice it before. And it wasn’t a normal attraction, it was a stupid schoolboy crush; the kind where he’d go through ridiculous measures just to get your attention.

He groaned and threw his head into his hands at his epiphany. What in Merlin’s name was he supposed to do?

•••

Newt revisited the apothecary day after day, awaiting your return. After about a week of the constant rejections, he decided to let it go for the time being. It was frustrating, to say the least, to not hear how you were doing. He was more concerned about you than he was about acting on his feelings, because Merlin knows when he’d do that.

As Newt ran through the possibilities of what you had come down with, a knocking came from his front that snapped his attention to the forefront of his mind. He opened the door and stared, slightly confused at the sight before him.

“Theseus?”

“Nice to see you, too, Newt,” Theseus scoffed, embracing his younger brother into a tight hug. Newt stood quite stiff in his arms until he let go.

The younger Scamander rested an arm against the doorframe, leaning against it to make himself look much taller next to his brother who just happened to tower over him. After settling into the awkward position, Newt asked, “What brings you here?”

Theseus reached into his pocket to pull out a small notice, placing it into the hands of Newt. Newt frowned before unravelling it and scanning over its contents.

“It’s a notice from the Ministry. Next date to get your international ban removed.”

“Ah.” Newt raised the note in the air, casting a silent spell to have the paper zip itself down to his basement. “I’ll see you then, I reckon.”

Newt tried to shut the door but Theseus put his foot in it, prying it open to face Newt once more. Theseus held out a hand as the other fished through his jacket pocket to pull out a few small vials of Dittany.

“Just in case,” Theseus added sheepishly. “You always used to run out of this, and I can bet you still do.”

Newt flashed a grateful smile at his brother before his eyes caught on the label of the bottle. That same label that was plastered on every herb in his basement.

“Did you get this from Oliphant & Bailey’s?”

“I did, actually.” Theseus snorted, an amused grin on his lips. “The Apothecary there, the new one, she knew you. Recognized my face and asked if I was related to you, ‘the more handsome Scamander’. Her words, not mine.”

“When did you get these?”

“Right before I came here, why?” That familiar devious smirk grew on Theseus’ lips. “Do you fancy the girl, Newt?”

Newt lit up instantly, regardless of Theseus’s teasing. He sucked in a sharp breath and turned towards his coat rack to grab his jacket, slipping it on with great haste. Newt pushed his brother aside, casting a spell to activate the wards at his house.

Newt practically ran to the apothecary, the door swinging open to find a mass of people in line. He didn’t care. He pushed to the front, resting when he got to the counter. He scanned the store, trying to find you but came up empty.

“Newt?”

The sandy haired man whipped around, finding you walking out of the backroom, boxes in hand. Newt sighed, a warmth spreading inside of him at the sight of you. He ran up to you and alleviated the weight from your hands, resting the box on the counter.

“How are you feeling?” he asked through labored breaths.

“I’m...fine. Were you just running?”

Newt was never a good liar. He always got caught one way or another. “Yes…? I desperately need some Dittany.”

A knowing smile toyed at your lips as you raised your brows at him. “Dittany? Did your brother not give you the two vials like he said he would?”

Newt Scamander: expert in magical creatures, failure in lying.

“...right. I meant that I need some of that fruit you gave Pickett a few weeks ago.”

You snorted with laughter before pulling out the form and filling it out with the items, name, and his home address. You cut through the throng of people, snatching a tin up and preparing some of the fruit for Newt.

He began to rifle through his jacket pockets in an attempt to find some money for the treats he didn’t really need.

“How much is it-”

“It’s on the house, Newt. I’m pretty sure you’re our best customer, anyway.”

Newt looked up at you for a moment, his lips curling upwards at your kindness. “I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. You know,” you began as you labeled the tin, “being sick wasn’t all that bad. Kept me away from work and all. Let me take a break.” 

Newt nodded, feeling selfish for wishing you to be at work all the time just so he could see you. “Right,” was all he managed to say.

“The worst part”--you shoved the tin into Newt’s arms-- “was not seeing you.”

The tips of Newt’s ears began to heat up. He wanted to say something clever so desperately but all he managed to do was stare at you in complete shock, eyes wide and jaw slack. 

He watched as your eyes flickered down towards the tin, seemingly awaiting a reaction. Newt furrowed his brow before glancing down at the writing on there, blinking in shock. He reread it a few more times, only looking up when he heard you chuckle.

“Is this serious?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because it’s-- well it’s-- it’s me, and you’re you. You’re just...you’re you and I’m me, and I just didn’t think that you’d feel that way-”

“Newt,” you cut off, laughter spilling from your lips, “I happen to like you being you. Funny how those things work.”

Newt couldn’t process what you had just said. It was like everything in the world had tipped in his favor all at once. Just that gorgeous, encapsulating smile on your face was proof enough for him.

“Reckon I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” he finally managed to say, backing up the best he could towards the door.

“Tomorrow night,” confirmed. Newt was nearly at the door when you called out, “It’s a date!”

He slipped outside, getting a breath of fresh air for the first time in 15 minutes. He ran a hand through his hair, just then realizing that his heart was pounding out of his chest, his grin so wide that his cheeks began to ache. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t be bothered to. Newt looked down at the label one last time, chuckling at the note.

Thursday. 7 PM. Your place.

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

general taglist: @pandaxnienke @lunalovecroft @for-bebbanburg

[nalu4emily]

Writer’s Block

Natsu and Lucy just being cute. Because who doesn’t love a bit of fluffiness?

Sweaty. No, that made it sound gross. Hot? No, that wasn’t good either. Damn it! Why was it so hard to describe a mature scene, without making it sound ugly. Sex wasn’t suppose to be ugly; it was meant to be beautiful and should be read as such.

Lucy sat there at her desk, wracking her brain for a words to describe one of life’s most intimate moments; how deeply connected her two main characters were as they made love to each other. It was the ultimate climax, the finale of her new romantic novel that she’d spent hours writing. It was the very last chapter; the one that brought everything to a close. So it had to be good or the entire book would be ruined, but her mind just wouldn’t play ball.

It was so infuriating! That’s all she needed to continue—just one last damn word and she would be finished – her story complete.

Instead she let out an exaggerated sigh and flopped onto the table, her pens and paper splayed everywhere. The blonde needed to try and relax, maybe find a distraction from the book she just couldn’t finish, her stupid writer’s block getting in the way.

“Hey! I was reading that, move your big head!”

She knew that voice. All too well in fact, and now she was all too aware of the his presence behind her.

“Natsu?! W-What the-? What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be fishing with Happy?” Her voice uncontrolled, raising in volume with each word until she was almost yelling. Her mind was beyond chaotic; did he just say he’d been reading her story whilst she was writing it?

“I was, and now I’m here. That’s usually how time works, isn’t it?” He raised a brow at her extremely red face and stifled a laugh that was trying to force its way out. “Can I finish reading now?”

“Absolutely not! First you break in and then you read my stuff, without permission!” She could barely keep her emotions in check. How much of the story had he read? Did he even know what he was reading? “Why were you reading it in the first place? I don’t think it’s a genre you’d be interested in.”

“Oh yeah, says who?” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, a cocky smirk making it’s way to his face, enjoying how flustered she was getting.

“Says… Uh…” Well shit! He’d got her there. After all these years, she’d just assumed he didn’t care that much for sex and romance, she’d never actually asked him about it. “Oh, it doesn’t matter!” She huffed, leaning back into the chair she was sat on.

“Don’t get so worked up. I like reading your stories whatever they’re about, Lucy. Your a good writer, but ya seem to be stuck on this one.” He said, leaning himself against the bed post, gauging her defeated profile as she returned to look at the scattered pages of her manuscript and sighed dejectedly.

“Yeah, your right, I’ve been stuck for ages on describing this last bit, but nothing I write seems to fit.”

“Hmm… Do you need some help?” Natsu asked, tilting his head at her.

“Help? What kind of help?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Well, where do you usually get your ideas from?” He asked her.

“Experience, mostly. But this is, uh, n-new to me…” She stuttered, feeling colour return to her cheeks as she averted her eyes away from his.

“Huh…” Understanding fully, he took a minute to help think of a solution, smiling brilliantly when one struck him. “If you have none, then get some.”

Lucy’s eyes widened in shock; what did he just say?

“What?!” She all but shrieked, making Natsu wince at the shrill noise. “I can’t just go and get experience! Do you even know what you’re saying? What you’re suggesting?”

“Sure, I do. I just read the thing, duh!”

“Then you know what is happening? What the main characters are doing? I can’t just go and do that with some random stranger.” She couldn’t believe he’d propose for her to just go out and have sex with whoever took her fancy.

“I’m not suggesting with a stranger, Lucy. I’d kill ‘em before they laid their hands on you.” He stepped forwards, placing one hand on the back of her chair, his face peering down at hers with eyes that seemed to burn right through her soul. “I had someone closer in mind.”

Her mouth ran dry. She couldn’t peel her eyes away from his dominating figure, feeling ever so small and vulnerable under his fiery gaze. “C-Closer?”

“Hmm… I’d say a few inches.” His eyes quickly glancing at the distance between him and her.

She gasped at his words; was he referring to himself? She felt adrenaline course through her veins at the hopes that might be true. But they were shattered in an instant when he reached for the piece of paper on her desk instead.

Feeling her mood drop, she glared at the dumb dragon slayer, “Natsu? What are you doing now? Give that back!” She should have known better than to believe he had the guts or the initiative to make a move.

“I’m reading what the characters are doing, you wanna make this real then we gotta copy what you’ve written.” He said, briefly glancing at her before going back to the page he was holding.

Lucy was dumbfounded. He was reading it like some instruction manual. Feeling her annoyance surface because of the dumbass she called her best friend, she tried to snatch it from his hands.

“Wait, Natsu, just hand it here! It doesn’t matter any more!” He moved quicker than she did, dodging her attempts with ease. “Hey, this isn’t a game. Stop messing around!”

Holding her back so that he could read the last little bit, she jumped at him, forcing his arm to move and lunged straight for the paper. Without warning, he moved the page away from her, revealing his face behind it and allowed her to come at him. Her mouth level with his, he grabbed hold of the sides of her head and brought her to him, meshing their lips together in a soft and gentle kiss.

He pulled away not long after, gauging her reaction, making sure he hadn’t over stepped the mark. Her face was beautifully flushed, she was standing on her tip toes with her hands resting on his chest. Gazing up a him, her doe eyes were magnetising, luring him in, wanting to taste even more of her.

She could barely comprehend what had just happened. Natsu kissed her? He’d kissed her full on the lips, on purpose no less. She couldn’t believe it. As she stared into those dark, dark eyes of his, she saw no insincerity, no tease, just pure, honest Natsu and that made her a little giddy.

“Natsu?” She managed to squeak out, his face still so close to hers with half lidded eyes, staring deeply into hers.

“I think we should perfect that first, you know before we move on to the other stuff.” The boy could barely keep from touching her, his stomach filling with butterflies. Lucy had remained quiet and still, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“T-The other stuff?” She stammered; did he mean the more heated stuff? She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that, they’d only just shared their first kiss.

“Yeah, but maybe we should just keep to kissing for now, what do you say?” His infectious grin took over his cheeks and Lucy found it hard not to mirror him.

“S-Sure, Natsu, I’d like that.” She answered, as his lips impatiently pressed softly against hers, feeling those little sparks ignite.

They moved at a slow and passionate pace, hands tangled in hair and drool clinging to their lips. It was messy and new, but exciting and loving, just as it should be.

Maybe one day Lucy would find that word she was looking for; maybe she’d get to experience it for herself too. But for now, she didn’t care, her focus was on the boy in her arms and nothing – not one word could describe how happy that made her feel.

Thanks for reading! :)