#of things I’ve read in fics + facts from like page 1 of google + my own fabrication

[uozlulu]

50 questions for fic writers

@darkangel1791 asked that fic writing mutual answer these questions, and so here we go~

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?) I’d start with a oneshot. The one that’s been the most well-received is a SPN/Teen Wolf (MTV) crossover about Stiles having an unreciprocated crush on Dean called Crush. The oneshot I think represents my style as a writer the most would be my BnHA/MHA fic called …save…. about Shirakumo overcoming Kurogiri’s programing enough to ask Aizawa to help save Shigaraki. The oneshot I think I did my best work on to date would be my IwtV (AMC) fic May You Get What You Desire Is a Curse upon the Dead, that explores desire via Devil’s Minion. I think this is my best oneshot, if not overall fic, because I alternated between two POVs, one in the past and one in the present, and I don’t cringe when I reread it.

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits? Mine are 1) Originally posted to Fanfiction.net, 2) I Blame Tumblr, 3) Crossover, 4) Additional Warnings in Author’s Note, and 5) Other: See More Story Notes. I think that it does represent me as a writer because sometimes I wrote very long warnings lists and author’s notes because I always have something to say.

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics? I write a lot of stuff where someone’s not!straight because I myself am not straight. I also write quite a bit of romance because it does fascinate me, but I’m also drawn to platonic pairs with strong bonds too.

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of? I spent a lot of time researching stuff about Japan to make my Banana Fish manga AU where Ash joins Eiji on the plane to Japan called Best Laid Plans work. I looked up school schedules, cultural notes, train ride durations, flight durations, food, culture, 80’s history, Google street views, etc…etc… The ending ended up being a bit of a you love it or hate it ending unfortunately, but I am proud of the work I put in to make the fic happen.

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now! I don’t think I have any specific questions off the top of my head, but if anyone has some fic-specific questions, my inbox is always open for them

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [insert fic] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself? I should have been more clear that in my Black Clover soulmate AU Names and Promises that Asta and Yuno are platonic soulmates and said their first words to each other.

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of? I’m really proud of my work on my BnHA/MHA soulmate AU Our Soulmate Academia because I fleshed so much out and had so much fun with things like quirk swapping and what life for an underground hero might entail, etc…It was also fun trying to guess what Horikoshi might do in the canon and try to avoid doing something too similar.

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)? I want to do my Vampire Chronicles (AMC) inspired playlist as a fic series, but I do not have that kind of free time unfortunately.

9. How do you find new fic to read? Most of the time it’s whatever shows up via my subs in my inbox. But sometimes I just pick a fandom I want to read from and see what new fics are around

10. How do you decide what to write? Sometimes it’s based on a Tumblr post I read like my IwtV (AMC) crack fic We Have Thieves based on some Night Island (AMC) posts I’ve seen. Sometimes I’m filling in some blanks from canon like my Kakuriyo: Bed and Breakfast for Spirits fic Promises and Oaths where I hypothesized some things before the anime finished. Sometimes I watch something unrelated and it inspires a fic like the time I watched that Monuments Men movie and then wrote my Captain America Steve never becomes a super soldier AU called If No One Else Will. Sometimes I get inspired by other fics I’ve been reading like my Sherlock Holmes fic The Mystery in the Fog.

11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is? I’m a perseverative person by nature. Sometimes I blink and have like a handful of Devil’s Minion fics because it gives me brain worms or when I was in high school I always had an Inuyasha fic in my fic rotation because I loved that series so much. There was also a time I wrote too many Thick of It fics because I kept using the characters as a way to take a break from the novel I was working on at the time and several Tumblr users were giving me attention for those fics.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you? I started out pretty homophobic when I first started writing fanfic because I was very sheltered. Now I’m just very not straight and the characters I gravitate towards aren’t either. I also wasn’t into reading lemons but now I don’t mind them as long as there’s some sort of plot with it outside of the sexy times.

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore? I’m not sure. I’ve never really been big on searching out specific tropes, though sometimes I will go looking for stuff like those fics where someone swaps places with their younger self and the younger self gets to be in shock at their potential future.

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer? If the AO3 author I trust the most wrote something like omegaverse I don’t think I would follow because that might be a step too squick for me.

15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written? I really like my Black Clover/Boruto crossover The Land Across the Sea where Boruto washes up on Clover’s beach, runs into the Black Bulls and Golden Dawn, and then some of both squads take him back to the Land of Fire, which is coincidentally the same country Yami came from. It was a speculation of what post-Spade Arc could be like written before the current Black Clover manga arc. (I wrote this because I think Yami and Naruto would have been friends growing up and they’re roughly about the same age if you take their ages at the start of their mangas in relation to publication year into account).

16. What’s an AU you would love to read (or have read and loved)? I think we need more Claudia lived fics in the IwtV (AMC) fandom. I also want to see Present Mic be more students’ mentor in fics.

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it? I want to write a BnHA/MHA AU where Class A has to travel back in time to save Yagi kind of inspired by Tenchi in Love. I’ve written a chunk of it but I hit a wall and I can’t seem to move forward with it.

18. If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it involve? I’m not sure. No one’s made any sequel requests in years.

19. If you wrote a spin-off of [insert fic], what would it involve? I want to take my IwtV (AMC) fic Dream a Memory of Me and remix it now that I have more memory and knowledge of what I should be doing with the characters. Louis also deserves to be utilized in a less haphazard way for the ending. Unfortunately I don’t have the time to do this so it’ll just have to be a testament to how much I was raring and ready to write Iwtv (AMC) fic that I didn’t take the time to refresh my memory properly before embarking on it.

20. If you wrote a prequel to [insert fic], what would it involve? I’m not sure but the novel I’m currently working on 100% could have a prequel but I think that might be too much for me because I’d have to delve deep into my time in middle and high school more so than I’m already doing for that novel.

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in [insert fic], what would it be? Usually if a scene gets send to my dump file, there’s a good reason it’s not in the fic.

22. Who is your favorite character in [insert fic] and why? If it’s a Black Clover fic I’ve written, my favorite character is always Asta. He’s just so loud and friend shaped. I can’t help it. Like a little anime nephew.

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to? I’ve written so many. I think counting the fics lost to time and space, I’ve written probably close to or just over 300 fics since 2001. I think a lot of the ones I want to do I’ve already done maybe even twice over.

24. Are there any Easter eggs in [insert fic], and if so, what are they? Occasionally I make small references but frequently they small enough I can’t think of them off the top of my head.

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write? I usually just use Word, Excel, and Google to find things.

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue? No dialogue. Only dialogue can get confusing without being able to use said.

27. How long did it take to write [insert fic]? Describe the process. It took me a year and two months to get Our Soulmate Academia ready for posting. I wrote it as a giant first draft, edited it while breaking it into chapters, and then spot checked it before posting it. That’s the general way I do all my fics in the last few years. Makes it easy to finish chaptered fics.

28. Does anyone read your fics before you post them? If so, who? I used a beta way back in the 2000’s, who proceeded to steal my fic and post it as their own so I’m the only person who reads them before I post them with the exception of Kitty who has severed as my Britpicker many times.

29. What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for [insert fic]? Explain your choices if you want! We Have Thieves has its own little mini mix technically. The songs I reference in the fic are: “Every Breath You Take” by The Police, “Holy Diver” by Dio, “Little Red Corvette” by Prince, “Psycho Killer” by Talking Heads, and “Beat It” by Michael Jackson.

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter? I wrote some smut for Best Laid Plans since part of the plot was unpacking Ash’s sexual trauma and sexuality. I kept it kind of simple and tried not to make it a spectacle. I’ve written other smut in some orphaned fics. Recently I had the opportunity to write smut in a couple of my IwtV AMC fics but I chose to fade out of the scenes instead because I don’t want to write smut in a manner that feels exploitative (which is why I orphaned the fics I did. I thought they were kind of exploitative and that’s just not how I want to be remembered).

31. What’s your ideal fic length to write? I’m not sure. I ordered my fics by word count and found that the 1,000 word mark occurs roughly half way down the list, so I think I just write whatever word count suits what the fic ends up being unless it’s a drabble that’s to a specific word count.

32. What’s your ideal fic length to read? Usually I try to keep it to under 10,000 unless I’m feeling ambitious or the fic summary is too good to pass up.

33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read? When I was in high school and university I would cap my chapters around 5,000 words especially because I was writing drafts without editing them and then just posting them like a weirdo. Now I like to write the whole thing out and if it’s over about 15,000/20,000 or so words I break it into multiple chapters of usually 5,000 – 10,000 words in length.

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life? I 100% used my own mom as inspiration for how to flesh Bakugou’s mom out in Our Soulmate Academia.

35. What aspects of your writing are completely unlike your real life? I have never been kissed. I can’t drink and I can’t drive. So, naturally I’m drawn to having a bit of romance in a good chunk of my fics because it fascinates me in the way that space or dinosaurs, etc… fascinate me.

36. Do you visualize what you read/write? If I can’t see a little movie playing in my head then I’m not going to be able to write it. This is also why I get compliments on my action sequences. I can easily visually keep track of everyone involved at all times.

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it? I wrote a My Life in Film and BBC Sherlock crossover called Distortion that I think worked out fairly well. I think the fact My Life in Film is an obscure TV show didn’t help it in the popularity department. I chose the crossover because Andrew Scott is in both shows.

38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful? Only two of my fics have made it into people’s collections. They’re both Black Clover fics. The first one is Rest Young Soldiers which speculated on how the Spade Arc might end, and All Fortune Plays End where I speculated about how Asta’s devil powers might take over his body. I think I did a good job writing both fics.

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who? It is not. I just do what works for my brain.

40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person? I do reread them. I like to reread my own as they come up on people’s bookmarks of my fics. I also have a trash memory so sometimes I reread fics when out looking for new ones and become that one Gandalf meme when I try to leave kudos.

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.” I have 28 recs out of 138 bookmarks and I feel this way about all of my recs.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason? I got some flames back in my SPN days that graphically described how I should burn in hell for the fic I wrote. I also still think about the nice reviewer who complemented me on my Daniel characterization on my first IwtV AMC fic since that fic is pretty weak compared to my other ones in that fandom.

43. If you take/write prompts: what’s your favorite prompt fic that you’ve written? I’m not sure because I can’t remember which fics are prompt fics. But I always love writing them.

44. If you take/write prompts: do you prefer dialogue or scenario/narrative prompts? I don’t really have a preference. Though sometimes I’ll accidentally take it in a strange direction because that’s where inspiration took me.

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic? Editing hands down. I’ve gone from only running the spell check and immediately posting the first and only draft to doing a two round editing process.

46. Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write? On my computer is preferred. Typing on my phone is obnoxious no matter what I’m doing.

47. If [insert fic] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes. If my SPN fic Burn Mark were shoes, they’d have the mark of Michael branded into the toes and the soles would be made from metal like a cage. The leather would be well worn, possibly almost worn out and the shoe laces a little dirty.

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it? The last fic I read was the latest chapter of Only Human by bandedbulbussnarfblat. If human AUs for IwtV (AMC) aren’t your thing, then I highly recommend The Human Perspective by the same author.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it! I am currently working on my novel so no sharing.

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about! I’m not really sure. I’ve been posting fic online since July of 2001. I have a lot of thoughts about it but not sure which to choose from. If people want to know more you all can always send me asks or messages about whatever questions you might have.

#darkangel1791 #adventures in fic writing #adventures in fic reading #fic recommendation #(it's one of the last questions)

[dragonofthedepths]

9x9 Tag Game

Tagged by @seeesame, Thank you for the tag! (^‿^✿)(^‿^✿)(^‿^✿)

Ohhhhhhhh Boy. As I think I've been over before when asked to take a survey for one reason or another, I am wordy.

Favorite colours:

Blue*, green, purple, black, silver, and then past that you start getting into circumstantial stuff.

*partially because blue in the English language is completely broken. If you wanted me to pick an actual colour instead of the ultra-inclusive mess that is the English concept of blue, I'd say indigo; indigo as it was used when the ROY G BIV rainbow was being established -and therefore the colour being referred to when you say indigo in the context of the rainbow- something known today as royal blue/navy.

Because indigo is not supposed to be purple. The indigo of the rainbow is dark/navy/royal blue, and blue as it was used during the creation of the rainbow refers to what we would nowadays call cyan or sky blue.

If you have ever opened a colour wheel and been confused as to why blue gets two very distinct slices while purple just barely exists between blue and pink despite the rainbow listing one blue and two purples, this is why. Indigo has been corrupted as a term to refer to a purple instead of dark blue like it's supposed to.

(This is further confused by the fact that -while you cannot get pink by adding white to red!!!**- you can actually get something most people would class as purple by adding white to navy.))

**Unless you're working with food colouring, for some reason.

I have many Feelings on this as you can probably tell.

Currently reading:

Fanfiction. Not gonna get more specific than that because I don't like the show it's for and I don't want it on my dash.

Last song I listened to:

Changed a couple times while I was filling this out! List contains: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now(Japanese version) from Cats Don't Dance* -which I have listened to so much it just sounds wrong in English,  Italian Resturant by Billy Joel, Everything is Not What it Seems by Selena Gomez, Surface Pressure from Encanto -which I would love to hate because it's from Disney, but unfortunately exsists in my head as a banger theme for gladiator AUs for kinda complicated reasons-, and Playing With the Big Boys Now(metal version) cover by Johnathan Young.

*A movie I have never watched and don't particularly plan to, I just listen to this song A Lot.

This list contains none of the songs I've been listening to often recently, which mostly consist of Man on the Internet's lyrical covers of instrumental game OSTs. I am kinda irked by that.

Last series I watched:

As we speak I am watching Therapist plays Omori by Counselor Plays on YouTube even though it is after dark which I know is a bad idea. If you like psychological horror games or JRPGs I suggest this one, and if you like watching LPs this is the one I recommend.

Last movie I watched:

Uhhhhhhhhhh... The Shining, I think.

Cravings:

 Ginger beer/rootbeer.

Currently working on: 

piaodgjsdfvagkjehfehfheheheheheheheheheheheeheheheeeeeheeeeeeeeeeeee

Optional extree questions courtesy of @seeesame!

Skimming until I get to the chapters that haven't been adapted: I don't ever do this, sorry?

Open in my tabs: Four different Perchance generators I'm working on, three- no, four- no, five instances of Tumblr*, five copies of YouTube, my YouTube channel blocker plugin settings, two pages of PokemonDatabase, two Ao3 fics, one ff.net, four reference image pages I could close,  three miscellaneous tabs, and five TvTropes pages -which as everyone knows, will probably multiply as soon as I tab over to them.

*I kept finding more as I scrolled through. One of them is technically a google doc, but it's for Bad Things Happen Bingo so I'm counting it as Tumblr.

What my friends want me to read:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I swear to you I'm starting it. I'm going to read it. I have it open. really: The Sandman (vol. 1) by Neil Gaiman.

Books abandoned on my desk: The Dead Zone by Stephan King. Probably a couple others but that's the only one that haunts me with it's unfished-ness.

And I’m tagging: uhhh... @ito-itonomen, @avvocato-avocat, @just-a-well-wisher... I really don't actually know a lot of people on Tumblr... @scribesynnox because they left all my favorite comments on my AUs

#why did tumblr wreck my formatting??? It forced me to reformat the whole thing #tag game #seeesame #9x9 tag #tumblr actively attempted to mutilate this post at every step along the way #fix tags later

[carolyncaves]

WWX Goes to Gusu: Part 3, in which things get a little out of hand ... aka I was definitely not planning for this to become a full-blown elaborate wedding fic, but here we are. 8501 words, Wangxian, LXC, LQR, vague mental illness, tenderness and devotion, marriage proposal, Lan family feelings, the author trying to thread the needle re: nonheteronormativity vs vaguely gendered wedding & marriage things

part one | part two | also on ao3

Lan Wangji could see the precise moment Xichen realized what he was suggesting – a marriage between himself and Wei Ying. He stood up a little straighter, as if realizing he was going to have to be a sect leader and eldest brother in this conversation even this early in the morning. A bittersweetness appeared in the set of his eyebrows. He believed Lan Wangji was being foolishly lovelorn.

In fact Lan Wangji was terrified and this was the only straw within his desperate reach.

“This seems very sudden,” Xichen said. “I know you harbor a deep affection for Wei-gongzi, have perhaps for years, but in recent times he’s held you harshly at a distance.”

“It’s not like that. Xiongzhang, he is vulnerable to Jin-zongzhu.” He was also vulnerable to himself, and to Jiang Wanyin, and to everybody who came within arm’s reach of him, but Lan Wangji could not say any of that.

“Did he request this of you?” Xichen asked, clear eyes sharp.

“We have not discussed it.”

Xichen sighed. He slowly crossed the hanshi – so similar to the jingshi, in its uncluttered elegance, but so different in that it was Xichen’s and Lan Wangji could not imagine Wei Ying within it – and sat down at the table, which bore tea. It must have been delivered before Lan Wangji arrived – no simple feat, since he had risen carefully from the bed and left the jingshi even before the dawn chime sounded.

He hadn’t slept. He had spent the night absorbing the texture of Wei Ying’s hair, its scent, the tide of his breath and its dampness against his chest. The warmth of him. The bright shine of his drowsy eyes when he couldn’t sleep and the peace on his haggard face when he could. The weight of his arm and the affectionate brush of his thumb against Lan Wangji’s spine, comforting even now when he was the one wounded. The shift of his leg between Lan Wangji’s own – completely idle, totally at ease, the two of them sharing one space. There could be nothing more natural in all the world, and nothing more rare and precious.

Lan Wangji had spent the night planning to marry Wei Ying. Now it was morning, so he could try to do it.

Xichen poured himself a cup. “Do you think he would agree? His brother has just ascended as Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang. It was difficult to convince him to come to Cloud Recesses even temporarily.”

Lan Wangji shook his head. “I would go to Lotus Pier.”

Xichen paused, tea halfway to his mouth. It had likely never occurred to him Lan Wangji might marry out. It hadn’t occurred to Lan Wangji himself until it was nearly too late.

“Wangji,” Xichen said solemnly, “Why don’t you sit?” He retrieved another cup from the tray and placed it across from him.

Lan Wangji obeyed. He sat and drank, and otherwise said nothing and did nothing. He let Xichen think.

At length, Xichen said, “It would not be disadvantageous.” His words were slow, as if draw through deep water, some thick medium which resisted their passing. “Under Jiang Wanyin, the Jiang sect has emerged vibrant from the ashes of their defeat. Wei Wuxian is a formidable figure, weakened only by his instability and Jiang-zongzhu’s youth and insecurity, which Jin Guangshan uses to undermine them both.” He paused. Then, “The Lan sect would benefit from their alliance, and the Jiang sect would benefit from the aura of the Lan sect’s venerable reputation.”

Lan Wangji’s hand clenched involuntarily around the teacup. “You will allow it?”

“Wangji … I sense you are doing this because feel you would be protecting Wei-gongzi, but I must ask you to also consider yourself. You have your own life. This is too much of yourself to give solely on his behalf.”

“No.” Lan Wangji didn’t know how to put what he felt into words. “Xiongzhang. Who else but Wei Ying?”

He worried that wouldn’t be clear enough, didn’t know how to convey that he would not be giving anything, that it was Wei Ying whose hand would be forced and he who would be going with his whole heart – but a very soft expression settled over Xichen’s face. “Ah, Wangji. Please understand it’s hard for me to grapple with the idea of parting from my dear younger brother. If this is what you yourself want, I would never stand in your way.”

Lan Wangji felt so pleased and relieved he might perhaps have smiled.

Xichen certainly smiled back at him, though it was touched with bemusement. “It’s a little early for that, don’t you think? There are a number of other people whose agreement we must secure.”

We. Lan Wangji did not know what he could have done in his past lives to deserve an older brother like Xichen.

“Who will you approach first?” Xichen continued. “Wei-gongzi, or Shufu?”

Wangji had considered that. There had never been any question Lan Wangji would start with Xichen, but having received his blessing: “If Wei Ying is not willing, there is no need to involve Shufu.”

Xichen nodded his agreement. “Additionally, if Shufu is to be convinced, I think Wei-gongzi will need to give an account.” At even the mention of that, Xichen sighed.

Lan Wangji could not argue with his dismay. Shufu would be nearly impossible to sway, considering his opinion of Wei Ying to start and Wei Ying’s new cultivation besides. It did not matter. Lan Wangji would try. Lan Wangji would succeed. If Wei Ying was willing, how could Lan Wangji do anything but marry him?

If Wei Ying was willing.

When Lan Wangji returned to the jingshi after accompanying Xichen during his breakfast, he found Wei Ying awake, sitting bleary and alone at the table, eating breakfast himself. The servants must have come at Lan Wangji’s usual time. For a brief moment he was angry at them, for waking Wei Ying when he’d been sleeping. But that was not fair. He was unhappier with himself, for leaving Wei Ying alone. It had been necessary, to initiate the motion of this necessary thing, but he had not intended for Wei Ying to wake up with the bed empty beside him.

“Have they made you start rising even earlier now?” Wei Ying said, before yawning around his porridge. “The Lan schedule is truly merciless.”

Lan Wangji made himself sit across from him as if nothing were different. In truth, nothing was different. Not yet. “I apologize. There was a matter that could not wait.”

“You know, you can go off and do things even though I’m here, Lan Zhan. I realize I am in quite a pitiful state, but I will be able to survive for brief periods without your kind and tender care. Not that I’m at all complaining.” Wei Ying looked up at him and smiled, playful and warm despite everything. Lan Wangji wanted to marry him.

Instead he served himself his morning meal and ate it in silence. Never before had the rule against speaking during meals felt so constraining. Perhaps he should be grateful. Without it, he might have asked him over tea and congee.

“Will you go back to sleep?” was what Lan Wangji did in fact ask Wei Ying, when they were through. He would not beleaguer Wei Ying due to his own fervor.

Wei Ying sat back with one of his knees canted up. Improper, but lively. “No, no. Maybe this way I’ll be able to sleep better tonight.” His tone held a little skepticism, but he smiled. He was smiling much more now than he had when he’d arrived, just the night before last. It could have been an affectation, but even so it meant he felt comfortable and strong enough to pretend. “What will we do today? Shall we go back and see the bunnies? If you have work in the Library Pavilion, I could come with you and pretend to copy lines.” His smile turned mischievous for an all-too-brief beat.

“We will go to the cold springs.” Lan Wangji felt hot, too hot. Agitated. Perhaps the water would give him clarity. He needed to get this right. This was the most important question he would ever ask.

And that was the place he had wound his headband around Wei Ying’s wrist – where he had first, barely even knowing or comprehending it, declared to the universe they were one another’s. He’d often wondered if that memory stood out to Wei Ying as well.

Wei Ying ran a hand through his hair, smiling in chagrin. “I guess I could use a wash, ah, Lan Zhan?”

That was not what Lan Wangji had meant – Wei Ying was not noticeably unclean – but if it made him comply, Lan Wangji would not argue.

///

Wei Wuxian was hardly in any position to talk, but Lan Zhan was acting strangely.

More strangely than the magnetic closeness and the constant possessive touch. That was actually all very delightful, and Lan Zhan was still doing it – but now he also seemed distracted. It was a little hard to tell with someone who neglected to react to things as often as Lan Zhan, but Wei Wuxian knew him very well. He was needing even longer than normal to think and speak, and he was taking Wei Wuxian’s teasing – ah, Lan Zhan, I’m going to wash my ankles now, don’t look! – with a dazed silence, instead of his more usual pointed unamusement or even the dry-tinder outrage that had been so easy to kindle when they were younger.

Lan Zhan ended up coaxing them to sit very close to each other in the therapeutic cold water, inner robes plastered to their skin. Lan Zhan’s eyes kept flitting between the forest across the pond and Wei Wuxian’s face. Wei Wuxian would to need to go off on his own to wash his hair and scrub his body at some point – preferably soon, before he froze to death – and it didn’t seem as though Lan Zhan was going to give him an opening.

“Do you have something on your mind, Lan Zhan?” He nudged his shoulder. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. If you need to be taking care of some other business, whatever you were doing this morning, just say so. Or if you’re already regretting the two weeks, that’s fine as well. I’m nothing but a humble guest in your home, and you and Zewu Jun have already been unbelievably kind. You’ve helped me a great deal.” And that was true – Wei Wuxian felt better today. Lighter, freer. If he reached for them, he could detect that tension and anguish and despair right around the corner, waiting for him, but as long as he didn’t look directly at them, he was able to pretend they weren’t there.

He would have no choice but to look at them when he went back. But right now he was carefully ignoring the whole snarl. That was a problem for a future Wei Wuxian.

Lan Zhan’s mind was very far away. Then he was right here, and then he was facing Wei Wuxian and clasping both of his pruny hands in his strong, skillful own.

“Wei Ying,” he said, and then he didn’t continue. His expression was a little frantic.

“It’s okay, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said, because whatever it was, it would be – or at least, he’d do his best to make it that way. “You can take your time.”

Lan Zhan did – he took a breath. He took his time. When he spoke, it was quietly, and he said, “Wei Ying, would you let me marry you?”

At first Wei Wuxian couldn’t even make sense of his meaning. Marriage was a concept he had really never applied to himself, if he were honest. He had to go through the sentence word-by-word like a young schoolchild. Once he had and he understood it, his heart dropped into a yawning endless void.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, toneless even to his own ears, “you don’t have to do that.”

“No.” Lan Zhan squeezed his hands like a vice, unyielding when he tried to pull away. “There’s no ‘have to’. I want to marry you. To be married to you.”

“But.” His voice came out tight and cracked, but he couldn’t help it. “How can I let you do that? How can Hanguang Jun marry me?” Demonic cultivator, master of wicked tricks. Tainted with resentment. Without a golden core. Ruined.

“I would ask for nothing more in all my life,” Lan Zhan said, as if that were a reasonable response. “Whatever the form, I would be content if you were. If you would not be, if you are unwilling … I understand. I will find another way.”

“What do you mean, whatever the form?” Wei Wuxian didn’t quite understand what he was talking about, but for some reason he really didn’t like the sound of it. It sounded like deprivation, resignation, sacrifice, and Wei Wuxian would never want that for Lan Zhan. “What do you mean, you’d be content?”

“I understand if you do not feel as I do.”

Wei Wuxian’s ears were ringing. “Feel?” Lan Zhan’s declaration, I would ask for nothing more in all my life, was playing over and over in mind, along with the rabbits in his lap and the tears in Lan Zhan’s eyes when Wei Wuxian asked him to play Cleansing for him, and Lan Zhan’s gentle fingers in his hair last night, and his desperate insistence Wei Wuxian come back to Gusu, and the tender kiss he had planted against Wei Wuxian’s lips when he tried to tell him he didn’t have to help him – all those myriad pieces that actually, when he thought about them for even a fraction of a second, made up one monolithic, all-encompassing whole.

Wei Wuxian gaped, and then he tried to hit him, though his hands were pinned and he was unable to. “Lan Zhan! Did you just say you’d marry me even if I didn’t love you back? That’s terrible. How could I tolerate that?”

“It would not affect my intention. I would do it gladly, if it would protect you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t.” He tugged at his hands, and Lan Zhan still held them. “How am I supposed to embrace you, Lan Zhan, if you keep me trapped like this?”

His hands were freed instantly, and then he was being dragged close. Wei Wuxian threw his own arms around Lan Zhan’s shoulders, clutching at him tightly – they were a tangle of cold water, wet heavy clothes, and hot skin. Lan Zhan eventually pulled him fully into his lap and held him there. Wei Wuxian gladly held him back, let himself relax in the hold of this ridiculous person.

“I do,” Wei Wuxian said into half-damp hair. “Feel the way you do.” Maybe it was shallow to love someone who’d been so good to him, especially when he’d so often been harsh or annoying in return, but he did. There was no use not saying it. “But I don’t know if I can let us get married.”

Lan Zhan’s grip clenched ever tighter. “Why not?”

Why not? Wei Wuxian was choking on the reason, drowning in it. Was Lan Zhan really going to make him say it? He forced himself to laugh. “How shall I order the list? Lan Zhan, I’m me.”

“And?”

“I’m a demon, for one. And parentless, a hanger-on to the Jiang sect, merely Jiang Cheng’s faithful subordinate. Not to mention my small lack …” He drew one hand almost reflexively down to press against the void of his core. Lan Zhan’s hand was right there to cover it. “And you’re Hanguang Jun.” He gripped that hand instead. “One of the Twin Jades of Lan. The most powerful cultivator alive today, in possession of a sterling reputation. It strikes me as too poor a match.”

“You are more powerful than I, with your tools. The Jiang sect is formidable because you are its head disciple. It may be a poor match, as I am only a second son and can offer no heir or political friendships – but I ask that you give me an opportunity to convince you. My spiritual power would be yours, and my sword, so you could keep yourself from the needless fray. My family’s influence …”

“Your family would never agree to me,” Wei Wuxian said, the words striking him hard in the chest for some reason. “Not even if the sun toppled from the heavens and the sea flooded the earth.”

“Xiongzhang has already given his blessing,” Lan Zhan said.

Wei Wuxian pushed himself away so he could look at him, hardly able to believe it. “Is that what you were doing this morning? Before the curfew was even lifted?”

Lan Zhan nodded.

Wei Wuxian felt tears prickling in his eyes. He curled his hands around Lan Zhan’s damp-robed shoulders.

“Wei Ying, do not deflect. Would like to marry me and have me join you in all things for the rest of your life?”

Wei Wuxian was well on his way to crying now, his breaths hitched and unsteady. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. Of course. But …”

Lan Zhan’s hands squeezed viciously. “No ‘but’. Do not think of the obstacles. We will take them together, always. On the same path, without regret. Will you agree?”

“Lan Zhan … you’re too much, you’re not real.” Wei Wuxian put a shaking hand to Lan Zhan’s cheek. “You can’t want to marry me.”

“I judge for myself, and I do.” Lan Zhan mirrored the gesture, carefully moving a strand of hair out of Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Wei Ying, will you?”

“Lan Zhan!” Lan Zhan had gone mad – that was the only explanation. But Wei Wuxian was not in the best condition himself, and he had no more will to continue fighting, not when he so desperately wanted to give in. “Yes, I will.”

Then they were hugging again, harder than before. Wei Wuxian could barely feel his arms and legs, and he didn’t know that it had much to do with the cold water.

It seemed impossible to imagine. He and Lan Zhan, married. Lan Zhan, who knew his mind, and his secret, and his dreams, who spoke to him when he spoke to nobody and who was righteous and good and whose company he could never tire of keeping. If they got married, Wei Wuxian would never again be asked to choose against him. They would never be required to keep apart. Lan Zhan seemed too calm, but maybe he’d just had more time to get used to it. Wei Wuxian would himself, before long.

For now, he lay his head on Lan Zhan’s shoulder and wept, because Lan Zhan had been cut by him at his most hostile, and seen him at his most bruised, and felt the hollowed-out edges of his vacated power, and still somehow wanted him anyway.

///

It was barely late morning when Lan Xichen received a note from Wangji. It simply read, He is willing.

In the privacy of his own thoughts, Lan Xichen would admit that a small corner of his heart sank. He had always been in favor of Wangji’s relationship with the lively – if unorthodox – Wei-gongzi, but his recent changes had complicated things; Wei Wuxian’s willingness meant either Wangji would leave their home and face Wei Wuxian’s many challenges, or he would be heartbroken when this unlikely betrothal proved impossible to negotiate.

And despite having given the matter some thought, Lan Xichen really could not imagine how Shufu could be convinced.

Still, they would try, so he went to the jingshi to discuss next steps. He found them sitting on the floor in front of the bed: hair damp, Wangji’s headband wound around both their wrists, fingers tangled together, dressed in white inner robes out of Wangji’s wardrobe – looking in all ways a paired set. Wei Wuxian seemed dazed and had obviously been crying, and the open awe with which he was gazing at Wangji went a long way toward mollifying Lan Xichen’s reservations about his reciprocation. Wangji himself looked more beatifically happy than Lan Xichen had ever seen him.

If only Shufu could see this, perhaps he would relent.

“Can we speak with Shufu after lunch?” Wangji asked. Wei Wuxian winced a little, but otherwise did not protest.

“So soon?” Lan Xichen would think Wangji might want to enjoy this for at least short time. “Have you considered how you will approach the meeting?”

“We will ask him. What else can we do?”

Lan Xichen tried not to let his heart feel heavy. Not yet, when, in all current respects, Wangji had precisely what he wanted.

And if Shufu was to be worn down, Lan Xichen imagined it would be very much like water wearing down a stone, which meant it would be good to start now.

First, though: “Don’t you think your prospective husband should ask me for your hand himself at some point?”

Wei Wuxian startled immediately, scrambling to his knees. He was tethered to Wangji, so Lan Xichen went over to them, allowing Wei Wuxian to address him without requiring them to part. His hair was slightly bedraggled from being wet – apparently they had gone to the springs – but his expressive face was solemn as he clasped his hands in front of himself with great formality and said. “Zewu Jun, this humble cultivator seeks a betrothal with your younger brother, Lan Wangji.”

“The head of my family is my shufu, and you will need to ask his permission. If he gives it, I will agree to the betrothal.”

“Thank you, Zewu Jun,” Wei Wuxian murmured, bowing a lot lower than he needed to, considering Lan Xichen had already acquiesced. “For this and every other thing.”

“For this, you have no need to thank me, Wei-gongzi. There are few things I would not do in service of my brother’s wellbeing. You will certainly remember that?”

Perhaps Lan Xichen was mistaken, but he thought he saw Wei Wuxian’s life flash before his eyes as he nodded. “Of course, Zewu Jun.”

“Xiongzhang,” Wangji said woundedly.

“I will call for lunch,” Lan Xichen said, instead of deigning to justify himself, “and you will both need to get fully dressed. Shufu has no afternoon classes today, so I will set an appointment with him in two hours’ time.

/

When they met him before the path to Shufu’s residence, they were groomed meticulously; Lan Xichen had expected no less. Wangji now wore an elegant white outer robe, and the headband had been returned to his forehead – almost a shame, but likely a wise choice. Wei Wuxian had redressed in his own attire, black with vibrant flashes of red, hair smooth and high, that dark dizi at his waist. Suibian was nowhere to be seen.

On the one hand, he might have considered at least giving the impression he intended to rejoin the sword path for this meeting’s sake – not that Lan Xichen generally condoned lying. On the other, if even the task of securing a betrothal to Wangji – which Lan Xichen did believe he wanted – would not convince him to carry it, Wangji had been astute to suggest they stop trying.

Wangji knew he was intractable on the matter and wanted this marriage regardless. Lan Xichen would simply have to hope he was making the right decision for the long term.

Shufu kept his eyes on the document in front of him as they entered the residence, but Lan Xichen was not certain he was reading it. He rather seemed to carefully track their movements – Lan Xichen to the side, present primarily to offer visible support, and Wangji and Wei Wuxian to kneel in front of him, one beside the other. Shufu abandoned any pretense of reading, instead staring witheringly at one of them in particular.

“Generally my nephews do not set appointments to see me for casual matters,” Shufu said. “And generally my guests come by invitation.”

An invitation Wei Wuxian had certainly not received in the few days he had been at Cloud Recesses. This was primarily because Shufu had been informed he was recovering from an illness, but Shufu’s point – that Wei Wuxian was certainly not his guest – was difficult to miss.

Wei Wuxian took a visibly took a slow breath. “That’s because this is not a casual matter, Lan-xiansheng.” He clasped his hands and bowed pristinely. “Lan-xiansheng, this humble cultivator seeks a betrothal to your nephew, Lan Wangji.”

“On whose behalf?”

Wei Wuxian’s brows furrowed. Clearly he was not expecting to have been misunderstood. “My own, Xiansheng. I, Wei Wuxian, seek to take Lan Wangji as my husband.”

The silence that occupied the residence seemed to have an energy of its own, washing any potential sound away with the force of its current.

“Get out,” Shufu said, and it was painful to watch Wangji’s downcast face flinch. “The depth of your malintent. Get out.”

“No, Xiansheng,” Wei Wuxian said firmly, still bowed. “My inquiry is serious, and I would state my case.”

“Such inquiry could never be serious.” Shufu’s face quivered with his anger. “You will never wed Wangji. Get out.”

“My parents were Wei Changse, a lifelong friend and servant of Jiang Sect Leader Jiang Fengmian, and Cangse Sanren, a disciple of Baoshan Sanren,” Wei Wuxian recited, undeterred. “After their deaths, I was raised under the care of Jiang-zongzhu and Zi Zhizhu. I am the number one disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang sect, shixiong and right hand to Sect Leader Jiang Wanyin.” He paused, then forged onward. “I am the cultivator who subdued Wen Ruohan’s puppets at Nightless City. With Jiang Wanyin, I brought justice against Wen Chao and the Core-Melting Hand.”

“Are you also the phantom who used wild resentful energy to slaughter the entire complement at Yiling Supervisory Office and every Wen soldier you encountered on your path thereafter?”

“I am,” Wei Wuxian answered immediately, and a shiver ran down Lan Xichen’s spine at the cold light that settled in Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “I am the master of Chenqing and the Yin Tiger Amulet. If your nephew is at my side, he will never need to be afraid of anything.”

Shufu narrowed his eyes. “Except you.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head, venomously slow. “Even if your nephew had his sword at my throat, he would never need to be afraid of me.”

Lan Xichen wondered if that was true. He believed Wei Wuxian believed it was, and prayed he was correct.

More urgently, the hostility in the air had grown as thick as fog. Lan Xichen tried to cut through it. “Undoubtedly Wei-gongzi is a talented and innovative cultivator, irrespective of his methods.”

“His use of resentful energy is a perversion of cultivation, and he is hazardous to everyone around him.”

“Xiongzhang and I would have been killed by Wen Ruohan’s puppets,” Wangji said softly – the first words he’d spoken. His hand landed on Wei Wuxian’s arm in restraint. “Sunshot would have ended in catastrophe.”

Shufu’s bearded mouth turned down, as if when chewing on that thought, he found it against his taste. “Perhaps. That does not mean I will ever allow you to marry him.”

“Shufu.”

“No.”

“Shufu, please. I will be able to help him.”

“No! Have you learned nothing of the lessons of your father’s mistakes? You cannot shield someone from the consequences of their actions!”

“Shufu, with every respect, I do not follow the same path. Please let me go out and stand with Wei Ying, so that we may live all our lives rightly together. To root out evil, help the weak, and live without shame or regrets.”

Wangji and Wei Wuxian knelt side-by-side, heads bowed; so severe, so earnest. Their feelings were true, and the circumstances were reasonably favorable. If it were any other person but Shufu, any other supplicant but Wei Wuxian, there would be little difficulty. As it was …

“Wangji, you will be better off without him,” Shufu intoned.

“Shufu,” Wangji said, so mournfully Lan Xichen had to close his eyes against it.

“Shufu,” he said, so suddenly it surprised even him. But he the next words came to his lips. “I am not so certain.”

He had not come here to argue against Shufu’s judgement. He had intended to let the water wear down the stone. But … but his brother was truly in love, and he truly loved his brother.

Through the silence, eventually that gruff voice came. “Wangji.”

“Shufu?”

“He is rude and irreverent, erratic and unconstrained. His mind crawls with wicked ideas, and his body is brimming with resentful energy. Is this what you wish to tie yourself to, now and forever, before all your ancestors?”

“Yes, shufu.”

“He is stained in the eyes of the cultivation world, through his own doing, and joined to him you might find your own reputation dragged through the same mud. You would have that?”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said quietly.

“Yes, shufu.”

“Among all the people of the world, you somehow prefer him? Do you not see that in time, you could come to prefer another?”

“Among all people, there is only one Wei Ying.”

Shufu let out a long, grumbling sigh. “Very well, then.”

Lan Xichen opened his eyes to look – and the wide shock on Wangji’s and Wei Wuxian’s faces matched his own enough that he couldn’t have been mistaken.

“If being deprived of marrying him would break your heart, Wangji, how could I rip this from you?”

“It would,” Wangji croaked.

“So it would seem,” Shufu said, not bothering to hide his distaste, “as my other nephew has not hesitated to point out.”

Lan Xichen wasn’t certain whether he ought to truly feel abashed, but Shufu managed it regardless.

“Wei Wuxian, for Wangji’s sake alone, I will allow him to be betrothed to you.”

“Shufu,” Wangji said fervently, clasping his hands and bowing. “Thank you.” Wei Wuxian did the same barely a heartbeat behind him.

“If he should come to harm in your care, there isn’t enough resentful energy in the world to shelter you.”

“Of course, of course, it will never come to that,” Wei Wuxian rattled off. “I will protect him and care for him, Xiansheng.”

“And I him,” Wangji vowed.

Shufu looked much less impassioned by that.

“With this agreement sorted out,” Lan Xichen interjected, still a little chagrinned, “we can go to Lotus Pier when the two of you are ready, to negotiate the betrothal with Jiang-zongzhu.”

“We should go tonight, or tomorrow,” Wangji said. Then, as if suddenly possessed by an idea, “We should pour the tea now, and bow at the ancestral shrine. So we will not have to return to Cloud Recesses after securing Jiang-zongzhu’s approval.”

Lan Xichen was obviously going to object, but Wei Wuxian did so even faster. “Lan Zhan, we can’t do that,” he said under his breath – though in the enclosed residence, it was audible to everyone. “This is a real wedding, your wedding, you shouldn’t … We should do it right. It should be good and nice.”

“It will be good for us to be married. The rest is irrelevant. There is no reason to delay.”

“Come on, Lan Zhan, how can we do the ceremony yet? I don’t even have a betrothal gift, or a spouse price.” Wei Wuxian sniffled. “Jiang Cheng … well, he’s going to be furious, but he’d be even more furious that way. Let’s wait, and I’ll convince him to make it nice. You’re worthy. It would be terrible to give them after the wedding’s half done.”

“Give me whatever you like. It doesn’t matter,” Wangji said.

Or perhaps, You gave me Suibian, did you not?

Lan Xichen wondered if that second meaning was a figment of his imagination – but Wei Wuxian’s eyes were shining brightly, so perhaps not. “Lan Zhan … What if he really refuses? What if it doesn’t work out? We’d be stuck half-married.”

“You would not be stuck – it will only be my ancestors before whom we have bowed, my family for whom we have poured tea. If negotiations dissolve it will only be I who is bound to you.”

Wangji’s voice calm and sure, but his meaning was wild with devotion. Lan Xichen didn’t know quite what to say – and exchanging a glance with Shufu, whose eyebrows had risen quite high, he appeared to feel the same way.

Wei Wuxian had covered his mouth with both hands, as if to physically contain whatever thought or emotion wanted to come out, and still he tipped over and spilled down a waterfall of tears. The formidable Wei Wuxian, master of Chenqing and the Yin Tiger Amulet, who had cast a terrifying shadow a mere minute before, disintegrated into emotion – his thin shell splintering to reveal a ravaged terrain underneath. “Lan Zhan. You’re really too much to bear.”

He shuffled around on his knees and bowed all the way to the floor facing Wangji.

Wangji moved instantly, urgently tugging him upright. He held Wei Wuxian by both arms, and Wei Wuxian reflexively mirrored him. Wangji stared firmly into his eyes. “Wei Ying. We will do this together.”

Wei Wuxian was entirely in pieces, trembling, tears dripping down his face. He nodded, and he clung to Wangji so tightly his hands disappeared in his bunched robes.

Shufu was looking at Lan Xichen, brows furrowed, but he said nothing. He was deferring to Lan Xichen to make this judgement. Shufu did not, after all, know the details behind Wei Wuxian’s coming to Cloud Recesses in the first place.

Lan Xichen knew there were layers to this situation beyond his reach, but he understood Wangji was saving Wei Wuxian’s life with this marriage. To hold Wangji’s portion of the ceremony without having solidified the betrothal was very irregular and might give insult to Jiang-zongzhu – but considering the circumstances, he would allow it if they felt it necessary. “I urge you to consider carefully the feelings of Wei-gongzi’s family, and the importance of cherishing this event in both your lives – but if you are determined, we can hold a ceremony this evening.”

“We can call for tea now,” Wangji said stubbornly.

“Wangji, with a few hours we can at least find you both something to wear. You will have an opportunity to prepare your mind, and so will we.”

“Lan Zhan, it’s all right, this evening is more than all right,” Wei Wuxian urged. “Don’t rush your family, really, it’s already bad enough.”

“Indeed,” Shufu said, causing all three of them to tense. “I was expecting you would have several months to reconsider this madness. At least let me retain hope until nightfall.”

Wangji looked nearly petulant, but Wei Wuxian actually laughed – a short, startled sound. Lan Xichen smiled despite himself. “Remember, Wangji, this is Wei-gongzi’s wedding as well as yours. Allow us make it as beautiful as we can in the time available.”

That, unsurprisingly, was what convinced Wangji to relent.

///

It was beyond unorthodox for the two betrothed to help one another prepare, but Lan Wangji savored doing so.

When they got back to the jingshi after the meeting with Shufu, Wei Ying seemed weary and strung tight, so Lan Wangji said, “Let's sleep.” In this way he got Wei Ying to rest for an hour within the circle of his arms. He woke him by gliding his thumb over the skin of his cheek.

After that, Xichen came with an assortment of clothes that were all reasonably suitable to choose from, and a message. “Shufu would like some time alone with you, Wangji.”

This was probably not unreasonable, considering Lan Wangji was going to get married and leave Cloud Recesses. Shufu had raised Lan Wangji, so even though he suspected it would be an attempt to dissuade him, he went.

He was pleasantly surprised. Shufu did not in any seriousness try to convince him to abandon his marriage to Wei Ying. Instead, he lectured and read passages, giving Lan Wangji one final lesson. He told him about patience and honor, and duty, and trust, and unsurprisingly about what is right and wrong, and surprisingly about love. Lan Wangji listened to understand his wisdom, and to receive the care contained in his providing it.

It was not long – maybe three quarters of an hour. Lan Wangji left the residence feeling prepared, and anticipatory, and at peace.

In the jingshi, Wei Ying was at the desk scowling intently at a sheet of paper covered in unorganized crossed-out notes. He looked up when Lan Wangji entered, and after a moment his face smoothed. He lay the brush aside and folded the paper over, certainly smudging any ink that might not yet have been dry.

“You can finish your work,” Lan Wangji told him.

Wei Ying shook his head, taking the paper with him and crossing the jingshi. “I was trying to write something, but I think … it’s not necessary.” He tucked the paper into his robe, and his gaze drifted over to the mound of red fabric on the bed.

“Did you find something you liked?” Lan Wangji asked. He still had to select something himself.

“I thought … since they aren’t personal anyway, maybe we want to match.”

There were two loose wide-sleeved robes laid to one side, crisp red silk with the thinnest glimmering gold embroidery. Lan Wangji felt a smile pull at his lips and Wei Ying’s fingerprints dance over the back of his shoulder blade. “Yes.” He would have done what Wei Ying wanted regardless, but he liked what he’d designed.

They dressed one other, beginning with simple white fitted robes. Lan Wangji’s clothes fit Wei Ying well enough for this purpose, since there would be another layer on the outside. Lan Wangji closed the robe around Wei Ying’s torso and tied the stays, fingers pressed right up against the solid heat of his body. Wei Ying mirrored this procedure. Then they fixed one another’s hair. Lan Wangji combed until Wei Ying’s hair was as soft as silk itself, and then pulled it up and into a gold circular hairpiece. When it was his turn, he lost himself in the steady ministrations of Wei Ying’s hands, until Wei Ying was finished and Lan Wangji’s hair was adorned with arcing gold spires.

They ate dinner – or at least, Lan Wangji made an attempt. He wanted something, to be sure, but it was different and it would be his very soon – just a few short hours and a single pot of tea, one journey to Yunmeng, one conversation with Jiang Wanyin. Maybe a day or so after. What need did he have for food, in the face of that? He forced himself to take bites regardless. He had to maintain his strength.

Wei Ying devoured his meal, and then he had to step outside into the blue dusk to retch.

Lan Wangji soothed his hair back, put supportive hands on his waist and under his arm. He was trembling from it, and still too thin, and his eyes were red and bruised from crying and now this. It hit Lan Wangji very fiercely that he didn’t have the warm golden suspension that ran through his own veins. Wei Ying had already been tired and unwell, and Lan Wangji had already demanded several things of him that day. “Are you ill? We can delay.”

“No!” Wei Ying gripped Lan Wangji’s arm with ferocious strength. Ill or well, Wei Ying would keep fighting on any battlefield until his body gave out beneath him. Wei Ying’s other hand traced the line of his collar, brushed his lip, hovered to his headpiece. “No. Not unless you want to wait. If you want more time to think, or …”

“No.”

“Then no. I’m just nervous. Anxious, I mean, excited. I’m about to marry Hanguang Jun, Lan Wangji, Lan Zhan. Who wouldn’t be?”

Lan Wangji didn’t answer him. The question was rhetorical. Only Wei Ying would ever know. He held him for a moment, slid his arms around the back of his waist to support him and press them together. Wei Ying’s face was tired, but he seemed soft and happy. “It will not take long,” Lan Wangji promised him. “Then we will rest.”

They went back inside. Wei Ying cleaned his mouth and teeth with fennel powder, and ate some orange slices to give himself a pleasant taste. He playfully demanded to feed several to Lan Wangji as well – “after all, we’re trying to match” – and Lan Wangji was emboldened by the knowledge Wei Ying was going to marry him, so instead of ignoring him, which was all he had ever known how to do, he knelt beside him and parted his lips obediently. Wei Ying’s eyes were wide and dark, and there was a rosy flush to his cheeks that had nothing to do with fever or illness when he placed the sweet fruit in Lan Wangji’s mouth.

The acid tingling of the juice spread much farther through Lan Wangji’s body than it should have from just the touch of it on his tongue.

It was nearly time, though. They had to finish their preparations.

Lan Wangji took one of the red robes off the bed. It was light – the silk would fall elegantly. Wei Ying turned his back, and Lan Wangji draped it over his shoulders. Wei Ying turned, lifting one hand to pull his hair out from beneath the robe, and suddenly, between the golden hairpiece and the crimson robe and the light in Wei Ying’s eyes, he looked like he was getting married. He looked like they were getting married.

Lan Wangji grasped Wei Ying by the arms. He felt … something, and he needed … something more.

“Wait, wait, Lan Zhan, let me get you in yours first,” Wei Ying said softly. “It’s not fair otherwise.”

Lan Wangji, very reluctantly, had to admit that was true.

He allowed Wei Ying to pull the robe over his shoulders, and then to carefully smooth and straighten the parallel lines of it down his chest. Lan Wangji used the opportunity to look at him. Wei Ying made a stunning groom in their improvised clothes. He would have in rags. Lan Wangji would never allow that, would face blades and arrows to prevent it.

“Don’t worry, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, running his hands down his arms, cupping his hands up beneath his jaw. “Jiang Cheng will say yes – I will do whatever it takes to convince him. You will come to Lotus Pier and have a home there, and I will take very good care of you as my husband.” His fingers tightened behind Lan Wangji’s neck, as if to reinforce the oath. “I don’t have quite as much money as the very illustrious Lan sect … in fact, I don’t really have any money of my own … but …”

Lan Wangji had somewhat forgotten he was the one marrying into Wei Ying’s household. “My brother will pay a generous dowry,” he assured him. “And he will continue to give me anything we need.”

“Ah, so will my brother!” Wei Ying objected. “Well, somewhat. And he will certainly be less pleasant about it …”

“I am not concerned,” Lan Wangji said. As long as he was at Wei Ying’s side, further luxuries were optional.

“But I have to keep you in fine robes, Lan Zhan. Rest assured, the Second Jade of Lan will still glow under my keeping.”

Lan Wangji had no doubt of that.

Wei Ying wrapped his arms around Lan Wangji beneath the red outer robe. In this way, pulled close, he brushed a ghost-light kiss to the corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth. He’d pulled away before Lan Wangji could turn to return it. “I will also protect you, like I told your uncle. I will have to cause a little less trouble with the other cultivators, I suppose, and I will let you handle the regular things with your sword. But if anyone should really try to harm you …” A little of that menacing light gleamed in Wei Ying’s eye. “I will not let it stand. You know that, don’t you, Lan Zhan?”

He did, and it was torturous. Lan Wangji did not ever want Wei Ying to hurt himself on his behalf. But it would be hypocritical, he supposed, to try to deny him, when he himself would do the same. Additionally, as a purely academic thought, Wei Ying commanding his dark, wild power for Lan Wangji was not – strictly – unappealing. “Only when truly necessary,” Lan Wangji said. He wondered if Wei Ying knew it was a plea. “Only when there is no other choice.”

“Lan Zhan, I will let you play your guqin for me all night long afterward,” Wei Ying replied, which was not even remotely a direct agreement – but his voice was teasing, and they would be married any minute, any second, so Lan Wangji let it go. He would have a lifetime to prevail in this quarrel. He was about to make the vows to ensure it. Even if Jiang Wanyin refused them, even if the world ended that very night, they could never be wholly unconnected from one another. Lan Wangji would be Wei Ying’s.

There was sound at the door – Xichen had appeared. He wore a formal dark blue robe and there was a smile on his face as he regarded them. “You both look very fine. I’ll be back for you in just a few minutes, Wei-gongzi. Wangji, are you ready?”

He was.

Xichen led him to the hanshi. The doorway had been draped in crimson, as had the perimeter of the central room. Candles burned along the walls. Shufu was there, seated behind the table, dressed in rich misty brocade, a more elaborate garment than Lan Wangji had seen him wear since he’d handed responsibility for inter-sect affairs to Xichen. The table held a beautiful tea set – deep azure porcelain with a pale blue design and silver gilding. Suitable for Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan, for Wei Ying and Lan Wangji. Suitable to form part of Lan Wangji’s dowry. It was perfect. He couldn’t imagine how Xichen had found it at such short notice.

“Wangji,” Xichen said, making him look up, and Xichen had a red ribbon embroidered with gold clouds suspended in his hands.

Lan Wangji reached up and removed his powder blue one. He held still as Xichen tied the red one around his forehead. It had been years since he had needed help to don his ribbon. It was a strange feeling to have someone else do it now, one that lodged him firmly in this moment.

It was done. A servant brought in hot water, lit the candle beneath it, and departed. “Shall I go get him, Wangji?” Xichen asked. “Or would you like a moment?”

Lan Wangji’s heart flew erratic in his chest. “Go on.”

It felt as though Lan Wangji had no time at all before Xichen returned. He came in alone and took his seat beside Shufu, behind the table Lan Wangji knelt in front of. Then Wei Ying appeared in the doorway.

There followed a century in which Lan Wangji beheld him. Framed by the night garden, red garlands, and candlelight, he looked fine indeed – a brilliant flash of white between rich and auspicious red and gold, tall and elegant, hair fine, hairpiece gleaming. He was here for Lan Wangji. He stepped across the threshold into the hanshi.

“Stop,” Shufu said.

Wei Ying stopped short. Lan Wangji turned to Shufu in betrayal.

Shufu cleared his throat. “Wei Wuxian. Are spirits, demons, ghosts, and monsters the same thing?”

It took Lan Wangji a too-long moment to understand. This was the challenge his family would throw up for Wei Ying, which he had to overcome to reach Lan Wangji. A simple question even a junior disciple could answer. He looked back to Wei Ying, who was smiling. “No. Spirits are formed from living non-human beings. Monsters are formed from dead non-human beings. Ghosts are formed from dead humans.” A wry thread touched his voice. “Demons are formed from living humans.”

“Very good,” Shufu said gruffly. As the silence stretched, Wei Ying took another step forward. “Stop,” Shufu commanded again. “What is the order of measures of cultivation?”

Wei Ying let out a breathy laugh. “There are a number of methods. First, liberation. Second, suppression. Third, elimination.” He paused. “I think sometimes of a fourth method, but I will not bother you with it this evening, Xiansheng.”

Lan Wangji could not help but look at Shufu. There was a small tic in his brow, but he could have expected nothing else, asking that question. After a moment, he pronounced, “Very good.”

Wei Ying advanced one more step.

“Stop.” Shufu raised both eyebrows. “What is the thirteenth Lan principle?”

Wei Ying’s grin widened, sharpened, hardened. “Don’t practice crooked ways.”

Shufu stared at Wei Ying and said nothing. Wei Ying stared at Shufu and said nothing further. Eventually, Shufu jerked his chin upward, and Wei Ying advanced the last few steps and took his place at the table.

Lan Wangji exchanged a harried glance with Xichen. Shufu might easily have been more intransigent, Wei Ying more combative. He wondered why Shufu had brought up Wei Ying’s cultivation style again if he didn’t mean to pursue it. Perhaps he was just making clear his enduring disapproval.

Perhaps the challenge was tolerating his open disdain.

The ceremony did not take long. Wei Ying took the red ribbon from Lan Wangji’s forehead and wound the ends around their wrists. Bound together, they prepared the tea. Wei Ying poured the first cup and offered it to Shufu. “Shugong, please accept this from me.”

Shufu looked briefly to the heavens when Wei Ying referred to him as family, and for one final moment Lan Wangji’s breath stilled – but Shufu grimly acknowledged, “Zhixu,” and accepted the cup. Xichen answered Wei Ying’s appeal with a warm ‘Dixu’, and they exchanged bright smiles.

Lan Wangji’s heart could not have been fuller. He was not properly meant to cry until they departed Cloud Recesses, so he restrained himself, but it was difficult. He poured tea for his family with steady hands.

In truth, they would not be finished until they were wed within the Jiang sect, but for the time being it was enough. After they went to the Lan family shrine and bowed side-by-side before Lan Wangji’s ancestors, Lan Wangji took Wei Ying back to the jingshi and lay him down to rest, just as he’d promised. He gathered Wei Ying to him back to front, so they were pressed together along every inch. Wei Ying laced the fingers of both their hands tight. Lan Wangji tugged him a little bit closer.

Wei Ying slept quickly once he was free to let his exhaustion claim him. Lan Wangji intended to plan his petition to Jiang Wanyin, but he must have been weary himself, because before too long he fell unconscious alongside him.

part four

#cql #mdzs #the untamed #wangxian #fanfiction #wangxian shotgun wedding is a sappy plot decision I have no justification for #except lxc is relying on lwj to make a reasonable and well-behaved call and lwj is impaired by love #he wants to be married to wei ying yesterday #so he’ll settle for now #for the double entendre with suibian as the betrothal gift #this is an english fic of a fantasy-chinese setting so please just close your eyes and assume with me #that it’s possible to construct a sentence in fantasy-chinese that could carry either one of those meanings #since suibian means ‘whatever you want/it doesn’t matter’ #in real life would this actually be even remotely plausible or subtle? I don’t know #for the relative words i'm trying to take direction from other esteemed fic writers where possible #but my needs are a little specific and I'm also obviously not responsible enough to be left alone with pleco unsupervised #everything else from the wedding and betrothal stuff to the dental hygiene is a hodgepodge #of things I’ve read in fics + facts from like page 1 of google + my own fabrication #aka likely to be either highly simplistic or flat out made up #so please forgive my language-and-culture sins and know that I have no idea what I’m talking about #yes them getting even half-hitched without asking jc first is as terrible an idea as it sounds #lxc obviously bought that tea set years ago #lxc #lqr #my fic

[serendipitous-magic]

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

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1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

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2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

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3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

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4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

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6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

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8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

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9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

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10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

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11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery. 

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12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

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13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

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14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

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15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

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16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story. 

It also informs character behavior and personality. 

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

#asks #anon #writing advice #writing tips #writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #character creation #plot development #character development #my advice #original writing

[missymurphy1985]

The Lesson

After breaking up with your long-term boyfriend, you finally found the courage to enrol at university, studying Modern Theatre. Your life now taking an unexpected detour to its original plan of marriage, babies, settling down. This is going to be an interesting year.

Tag List (message me to be added): @queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0 @cloudofdisney

Warnings - smut / teacher.student relationship

Main Characters - Cillian Murphy (he's 35 and single for the purpose of this fic, no children)

"Hey!!! Over here!!" You heard Sarah, your best friend, shouting from the other side of the hall and made your way over.

"Thank god, I was starting to think I'd gone to the wrong place! This place is huge!!" You laughed as you hugged each other. Your bag slung over your shoulder, you linked arms with Sarah with your other arm as you made your way down to the Lecture Theatre.

"So how are you feeling?" Sarah asked.

"Nervous! I never, in a million years, thought I'd be doing this! I feel so old!" You laughed. At 26, you were easily the oldest student here, but Sarah laughed your worries away.

"Trust me, you're not. Once they revealed who the teacher was going to be this semester, a fair few extra people signed up to do that course y/n!" You looked at her confused.

"What, Mr Allen?? He's about 75 isn't he?" Sarah laughed again and left you at the door to your classroom, making her way to her own Design Studio at the bottom of the corridor to teach her own class.

"You'll see when you get inside!" She called behind her, smiling.

You took your seats near the front of the room, looking behind you you could see a gaggle of ladies in the back corner, all of them easily over the age of 40 with no clear interest at all in the subject at hand. They were all giggling like children.. this was going to be fun, you thought, rolling your eyes. Turning back round, you caught a glimpse of a dark haired man making his way through the door at the back of the room. As he made his way to the desk in the centre of the stage area in front of the students, you couldn't help but gasp a little. Jesus he was cute....

The ladies at the back squealed in delight and the man rolled his eyes.

"Right then, let's make a few things clear from the off shall we folks?" He spoke, his Irish accent booming through the auditorium. Everyone fell silent.

"I have a passion for the arts - I've been involved with them since I was 19. I'm here to teach you all I've learned over the last 16years and I plan on teaching it to like minded, dedicated people. People who want to make a career out of the beauty that is theatre. Those of you here simply to catch a glimpse of anything OTHER than a teacher doing his job, the doors at the back of the room." He stood still, leaning against the desk. The gasp at the back of the room was so loud, you couldn't help but giggle a little. Busted ladies. They all whispered to each other, a few of them glaring in the man's direction as they made their way to the back of the room. Slowly but surely, a few others also left sheepishly, men included, and you couldn't help but notice the man smiling a little underneath his floppy brown hair and round glasses. Who was this man??

"Now that's taken care of, I'm hoping I'm left with students that are here to learn the theatre and nothing else..." He paused, looking round the room. His eyes met yours and he paused for a second, raising his eyebrow slightly. You were now the oldest in the room, and you felt even more out of place. You kept a straight face, and maintained the eye contact with him. He wasn't bullying YOU out of here, you didn't care who he THOUGHT he was.

"Right... Well we'd better get going then!" His demeanour changed, he smiled broadly clapping his hands together. "My name's Cillian Murphy - please for the love of God call me Cillian... Mr Murphy is my Dad and I'm not quite ready for that level of old yet." A few chuckles in the room - that tension was gone. "This isn't the first time I've done a class like this, and I've had to evict people part way through for.. ah.. shall we say inappropriate behaviour. Wanted to nip that in the bud from the offset, so I apologise to you all now for the way the class started. Now, do you all have the textbooks the school sent out last month? Let's start on page 35 shall we?" The class, including you, opened the books in unison to find the chapter on Lighting and Sound. Cillian glanced back over at you, a look of uncertainty on his face. You could feel him staring, but refused to look up at him.

"So how are your classes going y/n?" Your mum walked into your apartment to find you studying, book one side, laptop the other and you making notes in the middle of your desk in the corner of the room. You'd given her a key a month prior so she could let your dog, Juno, out during the day while you were at uni.

"It's hard work! I had no idea there was so much to learn about the theatre, they make it look so easy!!"

Your mum laughed and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for you both. Kicking back, you allowed yourself a break after 3 hours studying and met your mum at the small breakfast bar.

"I hear you have a new teacher too? Cillian Murphy?"

"Yeah, he's amazing! He's been there and done it all mum, the stories he tells are fascinating!"

"You know who he is, right?" You did know. You'd googled him when you got home after that first lesson. Pretty big hot shot actor, but you weren't bothered. He seemed pretty down to earth and normal to you.

"Yep I know - you'd never think it though, he's so... Normal I guess?"

"Cute too."

"Mother! Behave!" You both giggled. You couldn't deny he was very attractive though - but you could tell he was a professional. No way had he even looked at you that way - in fact you were convinced he thought you were there purely for him, rather than the course, so you were even more determined to pass this semester with flying colours to prove a point.

The following weeks were filled with more information than you could get your head around. You hated to admit it, but you were struggling to keep up. You hated admitting defeat, but you were really starting to wonder if you could carry on at this pace. Your work was starting to slip, and Cillian had noticed it too, much to your dismay. He'd called a 1-2-1 with you this afternoon, and you were convinced he was going to pull you from the course. You knocked on the door of his office, the defeat written all over your face.

"Come in y/n.."

"Hi.." you tried to smile as you sat across from him. He had your latest piece of coursework in front of him on the desk and he was leaning back in the chair, eyeing you through the rims of his round glasses. Standing up, he made his was over to the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of Irish Whiskey. You watched him, silently, as he put two glasses on the desk.

"Shouldn't be drinking this during the day, but felt the need. Want one?" You smiled, nodding your head.

"Conversation is clearly not going to be a fun one, no?"

"What makes you say that? I'm just lightening the mood y/n, you walked in here looking like you were going to either cry or knock me out!" He laughed, and offered you the glass. You took it, and sat it in your hands. Your fingers connected and you forced down a gasp at the contact. You'd refused to show him any kind of attraction but it was difficult while he was sat so close to you.

"Listen, I know I'm falling behind Cillian, I'll make it up I promise -"

"Stop. It's okay. Yes, your marks are dropping slightly, but not by much, okay? I'm seeing real potential in you. I invited you here to talk to you about some extra classes to help bump you back to where you need to be. What do you say?" He took a sip of the whiskey and so did you. Relief washing through you as the warm liquid fell down your throat. Hopefully it hid the blush in your cheeks.

"Um.. wow... Okay.. yeah! That'd be great, thank you!" He smiled again. God that smile... Stop it y/n.. he's your teacher, stop.. he sat back down at his desk and handed you a book.

"Great! I've put my phone number on the inside cover. Have a read of this, and call me when you're done. I think you'll like it." You took the book and smiled. A history of Modern Theatre. You agreed, definitely an interesting read.

"Is it classed as 'appropriate' for a teacher to give a student his phone number, Cillian?" You smirked, referring to his opening outburst on that first day. He chuckled.

"Maybe not, but I'm not a teacher, I'm an actor helping out the local university for a semester while the actual teacher takes a leave of absence." You'd heard Mr Allen had fallen ill, Cillian was just a temporary stand in for three months. Nothing permanent. "I have a new job starting in January, I'll be done here by Christmas." You couldn't help but feel a bit sad at the thought of him not being around anymore. Without admitting it, you'd looked forward to seeing him every day in class. He stood again, and raised his glass in a toast. You raised yours.

"What are we drinking to?"

"You. We're drinking to you y/n. I'm telling you, I'm seeing some real potential with you - you're going far, just need to focus more on the content, that's all." You blushed again.. was that the reason you were distracted? Him? Maybe. "Meet me back here tonight, around 4:30? Should be done with marking by then, we can make a start?" You agreed, a nervous knot forming in your stomach.

**************************************

You'd been having your 1-2-1 meetings with Cillian for more than a month now, and your marks were certainly improving. You had finished the book he gave you, but you hadn't plucked up the courage to text him yet. Watching TV alone in your apartment one evening, you downed your third glass of wine and picked up your phone. He wouldn't have given you the number if he didn't expect you to use it, come on y/n...

"Hey Cillian? Just letting you know I finished the book. Really good read, thank you! I'll have it back with you in the morning. And thank you for spending time with me helping to improve my marks too, it's really helped. Y/n x" pressing send, you cursed yourself, why the hell did you put a X at the end!!! You cursed again when it was delivered... Then again when its status changed to 'read'... Oh crap... A reply.

"Glad you liked it! It's been a pleasure, you're doing a great job! Cx." He put one on his text too... Come on y/n, you're not a teenager anymore, get a grip of yourself!!! Your phone pinged again.

"Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow xx" 2 kisses? Ping.. "Maybe we can finish more than your coursework.x" What did that mean? Was he flirting with you?

"What did you have in mind? X"

"There's still half a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard, shame to let it go to waste X"

"I don't think you'd be able to keep up with me Cillian 😉" you typed, feeling a bit braver.

"Challenge accepted y/n. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon X" you knew his stint at the university was coming to a close, was he flirting with you?

****************************************

You knocked Cillian's office door at 4:30 sharp, knowing how much of a stickler he was for punctuality. You felt nervous, after your texts last night you didn't know what to expect - was he flirting or were you just overthinking it? The door opened, and he stood aside to welcome you in, a smile on his face as he greeted you.

"Good to see you y/n, come on in!" He walked to the cabinet in the corner. "I never turn down a challenge, you in?" You smiled, nodding, as he poured two glasses.

"Good job I left the car at home this morning," you chuckled as he brought his glass to meet yours. Both of you sinking it down in one, you grimaced as the liquid slipped down your throat and he took the glass from you to pour another.

"We'll take this one a bit slower y/n, what do you say?" His eyes darkened slightly, the alcohol clearly having an effect. You couldn't help the warm feeling running through your groin as he licked his lips to clear them of the whiskey remnants that sat on them.

"Whatever you say sir.." he glanced up at you as you said 'sir', and leaned against the desk.

"Sir? Since when did you call me sir?" He tilted his head back slightly, glass swirling in his hand. You sipped your drink and stood to face him, confidence growing. You could see his attraction towards you, and you decided to go with it.

"Since you decided to try and seduce your student... Sir." He swallowed hard, the game clearly up, watching you take a step towards him. Your bodies inches apart, he brought his hand up to rest on your hip, pulling you that little bit closer.

"Probably shouldn't have put kisses on a text to your teacher, then, should you.."

"Probably shouldn't have given me your phone number then, should you.." the air was hot now, your bodies touching gently, your breathing becoming deeper. You brought your hands to his chest, over his shoulders, and he quickly spun you round so you were now sat on his desk. His lips found yours and he ground his hips against your core, your legs parted allowing him access, skirt hitched up to your waist.

"I've wanted you since that first day... Fuck y/n you're beautiful... Sexy... Smart..." He kissed your neck between each word, breathing becoming hot and heavy. Suddenly stopping, he kissed your lips before making his way to the door, turning the key in the lock, before coming back to finish what you started. Unbuttoning your blouse and opening it, his hand snaked around your breasts, underneath the black lace bra. Groaning slightly, he moved his hands lower, down your abdomen.

"Leave as much on as possible... I'm taking you on this desk, right now.. you okay with that?"

"Like I said sir, I don't know if you'll be able to keep up with me.." your leg pushed him away slightly as you stood up, pushing him against the wall. You sank to your knees, taking his trousers and boxer shorts down with them, his cock springing up, twitching, begging for attention. Gasping, he watched you lick a circle around the swollen head, down the shaft, before taking one of his balls into your mouth and sucking lightly. His hand in your hair now, pulling it gently as he groaned. You continued teasing him with your tongue, before taking the tip of his cock into your mouth, giving it a hard suck, releasing it with a pop, sending his head back against the wall.

"Fuck... Take it y/n.. take it down..." You smiled, before sinking your mouth over his cock, all the way down the back of your throat, groaning into it sending shockwaves through him.

"Lets see how much you can take..." You sucked harder, not giving him time to react. Moving your head quickly up and down his shaft, you felt your core begin to leak, you'd never felt as turned on in your life as you did right now. You felt his legs start to shake...

"Yes.. fuck yes... Feels so good baby... Suck it... Harder.. god fuck yes..." His balls tightened, you could feel him trying to pull back but you held him firm with your hands on his hips, willing him to empty into you. "I'm gonna... You might... Jesus.... Fuck...." He came hard, gripping your hair for support as he came hard, you felt his cum shoot in the back of your throat and swallowed as much as you could, some of it spilling down your chin. You pulled your mouth away, holding your mouth slightly open so he could see his cum on your tongue before swallowing it back down.

"That was... My god... Fuck y/n..."

"Oh you will sir, you definitely will. I'm not done with you yet.." you stood up and sat back on the desk, legs parted again to reveal your core to him, completely bare. He didn't see you remove your underwear while you were sucking him, but he wasn't complaining. Gathering himself, he moved to stand between your legs and pulled your lips to his, kissing you passionately, tasting a little of himself in the process and feeling surprisingly aroused from it. He moved his mouth down to your core, running his tongue along your open slot painfully slowly.

"Cillian... Please... Need to cum...."

"You will, baby, oh you will..." You moved your hands to his soft, floppy hair and pulled his face where you needed it. He loved you taking control and took your clit with his tongue, pressing it, rolling it around his tongue as he felt you begin to shake. You lifted a leg onto the desk to give him better access, and he inserted two fingers inside you, tipping them up to meet your g spot deep inside, emitting a sharp cry from you as you three your head back.

"Yes!!! Oh god yes... Right there... Fuck!!" Your hips were involuntarily rolling against his face now, riding his tongue as he brought you more pleasure than you thought was possible. Within minutes, your orgasm was building, and sensing it, he pumped his fingers harder against that one spot that was making you see stars. Three pumps and you came hard against his face, liquid flowing from you like a waterfall, hitting the floor underneath you as you screamed Cillians name. He leaned back on his ankles, watching you coming undone, smiling. Once you'd caught your breath, your eyes fell onto his his.

"Feeling proud of yourself there Mr Murphy?" You smiled. He stood between your thighs again.

"Extremely. But I'm not done with you yet. Turn around y/n." His blue eyes darker now. Your core throbbed, knowing what was coming. Standing up, turning round, you bent over his desk, his hands parting your legs. Taking a condom from his bag behind him, you heard the packet rip open and you rotated your hips, teasing him. He groaned deeply as he started to push his length into you, inch by inch.

"Ohh... Oh god..." You weren't ready for his size, you legs parting as much as possible. Inch by inch he pushed, allowing you to adjust, before bottoming out, his balls resting near your still throbbing clit.

"I'm gonna fuck you hard against this desk, y/n... You're gonna take every thrust like the good girl you are..." You bucked your hips up and he responded by pulling his cock nearly out, and thrusting back in powerfully enough to make you scream his name. Picking up the pace, he leaned over to grab your hair in his hand, giving it a sharp tug as he thrust into you from behind over and over, relentlessly.

"Harder... Cillian harder!!! Fucking... Oh god yes!!!" Loving the sound of your cries and the feel of your pussy contracting around his cock, he knew you were close to another orgasm.

"Rub yourself... Rub your clit baby, make yourself cum for me..." You reached a hand round to your core and found that bundle of nerves. Circling it hard, your orgasm built up again and you swore you saw stars.

"Good girl.... That's it baby... Let it go, I've got you... Let it go...." That was all you needed to hear. You came hard, and he couldn't hold back once he felt your walls contracting round him. "I'm... Oh y/n yes... Yes!" He stilled, you felt his cock pulsate, filling the condom. Both of you breathless, he fell forwards resting against your back.

He pulled out gently, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the bin, he chuckled slightly.

"Remind me to empty the bin before we leave... I don't think the cleaner will expect to see that in there in the morning!" You laughed too, standing up to face him.

"That was incredible... Just amazing..." You rested your head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your hair gently.

"I enjoyed that too y/n.. and I'd really like to see you again, if you'll let me?"

"I'd like that..." You smiled. You'd convinced yourself if anything happened it would probably be a one time thing, I mean he was a famous actor, what would he want with you? You had no illusions going into this.

"My teaching finishes here in 2 weeks - what do you say I take you out for dinner when it's done?"

"Sounds like a plan Cillian. But am I supposed to stay away until then?"

"Definitely not, y/n, we've still got a few 1-2-1 sessions to squeeze in before I leave..." He leaned down to kiss you, pushing you back against the desk again. His erection pressing against your core again. "It would appear I'm able to keep up after all y/n..."

#cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian teacher x you #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x smut

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3

A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ

Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)

Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire​  so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)

             You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.

             Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.

             Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.

             And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.

             The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.

             The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.

             Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”

             You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).

             Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.

             And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.

             You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.

             This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.

             She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.

             The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.

             Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.

             “Karl.”

             “Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.

             “Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”

             He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.

             Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!

             “You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.

             “Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”

             “You sure about that?” You quip back.

             “You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”

             “Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”

             “It’s Karl Heisenberg!”

             “Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.

             He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.

             He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”

             “No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.

             “You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”

             You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.

             He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”

             You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.

             “Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“

             You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.

             “Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”

             “Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”

#Karl Heisenberg #yandere Heisenberg #yandere resident evil #resident evil x reader #yandere heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #tw: kidnapping #fluff #well it's as fluffy as it gets with sarcastic reader-chan and yandere heisenberg #he thinks this is fluffy #because he's fucking delusional

[interstellarflowers]

Professor Parker Ch. 1| Professor, Peter Parker x Student, Reader

a/n this fic doesn’t follow the marvel cinematic universe but assume that peter has been what he’s been through with the exception that tony lived, and bruce is still bruce, sorry but i just can't deal with endgame hulk/bruce rn emotionally or mentally. im sorry nat is still dead but dw i'll actually treat it with respect unlike endgame like goddamn where was her funeral, am i right? the stages of grief thing they did was interesting though. im sorry i digress, this is set in nyc (because heyo im a new yorka) and the avengers/stark tower is still a thing, peter is fucking traumatized and has turned kind of cold as a result. this fic may contain a smut chapter in the future? not sure yet, where this fic goes depends on the feedback, thanks for reading also sorry im not the proudest of this first chapter so ill probably edit it but promise itll only improve from here just not in the best mental state rn

University life wasn’t exactly everything that you imagined it to be. There was hardly time to do anything that people claimed was good about coming to university. The parties, the epic heartbreaks, and romances, they were just nowhere to be seen. In fact, there was nothing particularly extravagant about your experience thus far. You went to class, studied, and went to your internship. Your internship was probably the most exciting thing about your life at the moment, you were lucky to be accepted into the Stark Industries student internship, the company paid college tuition and only required around twenty hours of lab work a week, you couldn’t complain. Of course, the exciting part of the whole ordeal was the name attached to it, “Stark,” not that you had ever met him, but it was nice to have a unique feature like that in such an impressive student body.

So here you were on the first day of your third year of university. You lived off-campus, about a five-minute walk from the Stark Tower, but a twenty-minute subway ride to your campus. However, having an 882 square foot space to yourself was really nothing you could truly complain about despite the distance. The studio apartment being yet another benefit reaped from Stark Industries. Thank you Tony Stark, the unseen benevolent God in your life.

Typically you would start your mornings off quietly and in no rush, a shower, a cup of coffee, maybe some studying before heading off to your campus, but your phone had other plans for you today. Instead of your alarm going off like it was supposed to, you were woken up by the sound of a particularly loud car horn, and oh how grateful you were for that. As soon as you were jolted awake you shifted to grab your phone and turned it over to see an alarming 8:40am glaring back at you.

Holy shit. You were late.

You scrambled out of bed nearly face planting several times in your hurry to get dressed and only barely ran out the door with everything you needed at 8:47am.

By the time you managed to get to the subway and clamor onto the right train it was already 8:55am. Out of breath and panicking, you considered your options. You could explain after class, you could shoot an email, there were a plethora of things you could do but none of them seemed to justify being late as a third-year to a level 500 class. You had googled all of your professors while registering for classes as was common practice. You couldn’t find a RateMyProfessor on Professor...Parker? You were pretty sure it was Professor Parker, but you do remember seeing on the STEM department page that he was currently a Ph.D. student, so you could only hope that as a fellow student he would be at least a little understanding towards your lateness.

You stood outside of the lecture hall huffing and trying to catch your breath at 9:32am, psyching yourself up, you pushed open the door to the class and attempted to go unnoticed. The class was in a lecture hall despite being only composed of around thirty students, so if you were lucky maybe nobody would even see-

“Ms.(y/l/n), I presume?.” Shit.

“Professor Parker?” Shit.

“You are aware that class starts at 9am, and not 9:30am, would this be correct Ms.(y/l/n)?”

“Yes, Professor, it’s just that I had an emergency.” The lying route. Not exactly the highlight of your academic career.

“I regret to inform you that I only take valid excuses Ms.(y/l/n), please take a seat, and next time, don’t bother disrupting class halfway through the lesson.” Fuck. You mustered a quiet “ok,” and a small nod before escorting yourself to the back of the room, thirty-something eyes following you until you sat down.

You couldn’t focus for the rest of the class, it was just too embarrassing, time moved forward but you couldn’t help but be stuck on what had just happened. For the first ten minutes after sitting down you felt like dropping out of the whole class out of sheer fucking humiliation. This was of course before you reminded yourself that this class was a requirement to graduate in your field of study. You quietly bargained with yourself before sighing quietly and settling on the conclusion that Professor Parker was just a dick. A dick who certainly didn’t deserve the satisfaction of you switching out of his class. If he wanted to be like that, you decided, you would simply return the favor.

“I know, Ms.(y/ln), why don’t you tell us DeBroglie’s equation?”

“With pleasure, Professor Parker.” Yeah, you’d return the favor alright.

“Ms.(y/l/n), you stay.” Fuck that. You looked the other way and feigned ignorance as you kept making your way towards the door. About to leave, the door shut on your face.

“What the fuck!” You jumped before turning around and you felt your face heat up.

“Ms.(y/l/n), please refrain from using profanities in my classroom.”

“I’m sorry Professor Parker. I was just startled.”

“Mhm,” he took his glasses off and laid them on his desk, “Just don’t do it in the future Ms.(y/l/n).”

“Of course. My name is (y/n), by the way, Professor Parker, you can just call me that, actually, I prefer that people refer to me by (y/n).”

“Rest assured, I’m aware of your name, Ms.(y/l/n). My name is Peter, but you can continue to call me Professor Parker.” You could have sworn that you saw a ghost of a smirk on his lips. He knew what he was fucking doing, asshole. You held back from rolling your eyes into the back of your head.

“Of course, Professor Parker.”

“As you know, Ms.(y/l/n), I did request that you stay after class.”

“Oh? I sincerely apologize Professor Parker, I really didn’t hear you.”

“I’m sure, Ms.(y/l/n).” Fucking. Dick.

“Well, what exactly did you want Professor Parker? I do have another class soon.” Professor Parker narrowed his eyes at you in obvious distaste before reaching behind himself into a bin underneath his desk and pulling out a stack of papers,

“These are the handouts you missed from the beginning of the class. Textbook requirements, syllabus...Crucial information to have if you care to succeed in my class Ms.(y/l/n).” So coldly, so maliciously, Professor Parker placed the stack into your arms.

“I take my work very seriously, Ms.(y/l/n), I do my part as your professor so I only have the simple request that my students do the same.” You nodded feeling your face heat up again.

“Of course, Professor Parker, it won’t happen again,” you said with a tightlipped smile.

“Mhm,” Professor Parker turned around and began shuffling around some paper and without giving you a second glance said, “You are dismissed.” You nodded and hurriedly made your way out of his classroom. Of course, you had lied. You didn’t have another class until late in the afternoon. So you called your coworker instead,

“Hey, Harvey.”

“(y/n).”

“Wow, okay, don’t get too excited.”

“Sorry, just woke up.”

“Tsk, the early bird gets the worm, Harvey.”

“I don’t want a worm.”

“Fuck you. I’m headed to the lab, can I expect you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You had been working with Harvey for around four years now, he was quite the impressive specimen, having attended MIT and graduating Summa Cum Laude at age 20 was no easy feat, he was closer to Tony Stark than you would ever get, he was quite personable, and you couldn’t deny that he was quite good looking. You’d never tell him that though, he didn’t need another ego boost. Besides, you had some connections of your own.

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Banner!”

“Can we expect Harvey today?”

“Honestly, not sure.” You both knowingly smiled at each other before you made your way over to what he was working on,

“Do you ever get bored here?”

“With you and the other idiot always running around? How could I?” You laughed,

“No, seriously, like wouldn’t you rather be doing nerd shit with Tony or something? Isn’t it a little tiresome babysitting us?”

“Tiring? Maybe sometimes, but not nearly as tiring as doing ‘nerd shit’ with Tony. He’s exhausting,” Bruce smiled at his own joke, “I don’t mind playing babysitter at all kid.” He fiddled with the handle of a mug that read, “Don’t be so Na Cl,” which you had gotten him a year back as a joke, but he still used it.

You really loved Bruce for all he was. Since losing your family back in 2012 during the battle in NYC, you didn’t really have any familial figures. But since landing this internship you found yourself with a parental figure again, and you would never be able to put into words how much it meant to you, so you didn’t. Besides, you didn’t want him to feel pressured about it, especially after everything he had been through himself. Frying half your body and losing the love of your life in such a short span of time was really nothing less than horrifying. Yet, here he was, smiling, laughing...You loved him for it.

“First day of junior year? How was that?”

“Shit.”

“Huh?” Bruce stopped tinkering with the device in his hands and looked over at you, “I’ve never heard of a course being too hard for (y/n) (y/l/n), what is it? Aerospace? Quantum?”

“No, just one giant dick.”

“Pardon-”

“My professor, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“Ah, I see. If he’s really harassing you (y/n), I don’t mean to overstep, I really think we should alert administration, what’s his name?” Bruce took a sip of his coffee.

“Professor Parker,” Bruce choked on his coffee, “Oh my God, Bruce, are you okay?”

“Yeah-” he said, still coughing, “Just a little too strong.”

“Okay, are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce caught his breath, “What did he do kid?”

“He’s just a dick that’s all.”

“You sure you don’t want me to do something about it?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I don’t know what you could do anyways. Thank you though.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised.”

Sitting at your desk stressing over school work at 3am, it was nothing out of the ordinary for you. Everything appeared ordinary. The ordinary cup of tea, the familiar glow of your computer, and a morning chill creeping through your window. It was all so breathtakingly normal until there was a rap on your window. You took an earbud out of your ear, certain you were just hearing things, you looked to your window. Holy shit.

You opened your window wide so that he could crawl in.

“(y/n)?”

“Mr.Spiderman.” Still too in shock to fully process the situation you started to take in the scene in front of you,

“Please, it’s just Spiderman.”

“Oh-Oh my God, what happened?” Head to toe the suit seemed to have blood seeping through, tears in the body of the suit revealed gashes and a bullet wound.

“Bad guys. I know this guy-said he knew a medical student close by, you are (y/n)? Right?”

“Y-Yeah, but I’m really just a student, I’m not really a prof-”

“This guy, he said you might as well be.”

“I don’t know Mr.Spiderman, really, maybe I could take you to the hospital though.”

“-Spiderman, it’s just Spiderman, listen, (y/n), you know I can’t go to a hospital, it would ruin this whole secret identity thing I got going on here, and this guy, he’s probably the smartest guy I know, so if he says you can handle it, you can.” You swallowed and nodded,

“Yeah-” you wring your hands together, “Yeah-Sorry, let me go get my first aid kit.”

#tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland #spiderman #spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #bruce banner #tony stark #iron man #idk #sorry #ill prolly rewrite this seven times

[ramen-rambles]

Quid Pro Quo

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

Warnings: 18+, mutual masturbation, suggestive texts 

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: From being a total stranger you met on a dead Discord server, to literally becoming one of your best friends — Kirishima was one of the most amazing things to ever happen in your life. But what happens when you accidentally screenshot his nudes?!

A/N: My first BNHarem server collab! I was really close to naming this fic Penis Pals, if I’m being honest LOL It’s a lot shorter than I wanted but I hope I did my baby justice. Thank you to my fellow Bakugou Fanclub members for hyping me up and helping me edit this piece. I literally couldn’t have done it without you guys, ILYSM! Read all the other amazing fics in this collab, here.

Taglist: @lady-bakuhoe @bratwritings @redbeanteax

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。.

Ever since you were in high school, you had always looked up to Crimson Riot — a pro hero who’s strong, manly, and fearless. I mean, who wouldn’t like him? Now that you were in college, there have been many other heroes worthy of being called the best, but Crimson Riot was still going to be Number 1 in your eyes. So, to pay homage to your all time favorite hero, you decided to join a Crimson Riot Discord server. 

You had started looking for any server invites through all platforms of social media. Google, Twitter, Tumblr, but nothing came up. You had started to lose hope, until you stumbled upon a very old server link on an equally old Reddit thread. You looked at the date it was posted and it seemed to have been made all the way back when you were in high school. You clicked on the link hesitantly, definitely not expecting it to work. However, much to your surprise, the link brought you straight to the server! 

“Finally! Something that actually fucking worked!” You thought to yourself, after hours of scrolling though numerous pages of the internet. 

You were a bit hesitant at first, not really knowing what to expect. Were people going to think you were weird for being such a nerd? What if people thought you were annoying? Or worse, what if no one liked you? 

But that didn’t seem to be much of a problem… Considering that the server was rather dead. 

You clicked through the channels — #general, #merch, #photos, #announcements; the last time anyone really said anything was nearly six months ago. “God dammit.” You should have known. All you wanted was a place to fangirl over Crimson Riot, was that too much to ask for?! You got all your hopes up, just for it to all come crashing down. Feeling a bit dejected, it seemed like you had no choice but to leave the server. Not like there was much of a point in staying anyways. 

But then you saw a notification pop up on your screen.

RED RIOT [Today at 7:56 PM] 

@Y/N Hey! How are you doing? I’m the admin for this Crimson Riot Discord. The name’s Kirishima. It’s nice to see a fresh face here :^) 

Y/N [Today at 7:56 PM] 

Oh hi! I’m doing good! I found your discord link on a really old Reddit thread so forgive me for asking but… Is this server still active? I was scrolling through the channels and everything seemed kind of dead tbh LOL

RED RIOT [Today at 7:57 PM]

Well, if I’m being honest, it’s fucking dead LMAO 

Y/N [Today at 7:57 PM]

F

RED RIOT [Today at 7:58 PM]

It used to be pretty active before but people just kind of... stopped. I made this server back when I was in high school because I just LOVED Crimson Riot so much, ya know? He was the one person I really looked up to. Anyways, how did you even find this link? You must have looked real hard LOL

Y/N [Today at 7:58 PM]

HAHA I did, actually! Took me for-fucking-ever to find a server link that actually worked :( I’ve looked up to him since I was a kid too and so I really just wanted a place to express my gratitude for the role he played in my life. Sorry LOL I’m getting cheesy 

RED RIOT [Today at 7:59 PM]

Well Y/N, I’m glad you found this server! You sound like a really great person and I’d love nothing more than to talk to you about our shared love for Crimson Riot, but this server is whack as fuck. Are you down to move to DMs instead?

Y/N [Today at 8:01 PM]

Fuck it. Why not? 

You and Kirishima had been talking for a while now. Ever since you came across his Crimson Riot server, you two would talk almost every single day. You learned that he actually lived near you too. Call it fate. Exchanging phone numbers, following each other on social media, starting Snapchat streaks, meeting up with each other — the chemistry between you two made it seem like you’ve known each other your entire lives. The both of you had practically become best friends. 

To you, maybe it felt a little bit more than just friends. 

Currently, you were mindlessly scrolling through your Twitter feed when you saw that you had received a Snapchat notification, from, you guessed it. Kirishima. You were expecting it to just be a bland streak of his room or something but you saw something that made your fucking jaw drop.

A picture of Kirishima in a tight fitting tank top and a very noticeable bulge that was covered by a pair of dark grey sweatpants. 

You felt your cheeks heat up, a red blush painting across your entire face. In a state of panic, you fumbled the phone in your hands and in the process you had heard a very audible click. You fucking screenshotted his snap.

Fuck. 

You quickly went into your messages and texted him to try and explain yourself. 

[Y/N]

WAIT SHIT. KIRISHIMA. I DIDN’T MEAN TO SCREENSHOT THAT. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. I SWEAR 

Replying almost immediately, you anxiously waited for what Kirishima had to say about your little mishap. You were seriously hoping that he was just going to let it go and you could both just act like nothing happened.

[Kirishima] 

Wow, I didn’t think you’d be the type to screenshot people’s snaps like that, Y/N :( 

[Y/N]

YOU DIPSHIT. I SAID IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. AND WHY ARE YOU SENDING ME SHIT LIKE THAT HUH?!

[Kirishima]

You telling me you didn’t like what you saw? 

[Y/N]

Okay, fine, you looked good, SUE ME. Is that what you wanted to hear?

[Kirishima] 

It’s only fair you send me one back, don’t you think?

You stared at your phone. What the actual fuck. Was Kirishima asking you to send him a fucking nude? You knew it shouldn’t have, but the thought of Kirishima wanting to see your body turned you on. A small shiver running down your spine at the possibility that he liked you in return. 

[Y/N]

Excuse me, sir. I am NOT sending you a nude. 

[Kirishima]

I didn’t ask for a nude, all I said was that you return the favor. Quid pro quo, ya know? 

[Y/N]

Using big words like ‘quid pro quo’, smh. Since when did you become such a politician? 

[Kirishima]

But, if you want to send a nude, who am I to say no? ;)

[Y/N]

Fucking fine. If I show you one, will you shut up?

[Kirishima]

Depends.

[Y/N]

On what, exactly?

[Kirishima] 

On how good it is

Your eyes narrowed at his response. What does he even mean by that, ‘how good it is’? He should be grateful that you even considered sending him one! Based on your replies, it seemed like you were pissed, but in reality, your heart beat faster with every passing minute. You were never the type of girl to send nudes to anyone, but for Kirishima, you were willing to make a small exception. 

You got up from your bed and rummaged through your closet, looking for something that was a bit more provocative. You picked out a red lace bodysuit that hugged your curves and cupped your perky breasts. Sitting in front of your mirror, you touched up your makeup and fixed your hair, checking yourself out one last time before you started taking pictures. You opened up Snapchat and tried multiple poses, making sure the camera captured your sultriness and how good your tits looked. To mock his teasing from earlier you captioned the photo, “Quid pro quo, my ass.” before hitting the ‘send’ button. 

[Y/N] 

Was that good enough for you? 

You heard no response from him for a good five minutes. You started worrying. “Shit. Was that too much? Did I push it too far?” You chewed on the inside of your lip, anxiously waiting for any sort of reaction. 

And then, your screen lit up again. Another Snapchat notification from Kirishima. But this time, it was way more revealing. He had sent you a picture of him palming his erection, and all it said was, “You’re not even here, and look what you did to me :(“ 

Feeling cocky and with a sudden burst of confidence, you cheekily replied, “Why don’t you come here then?” 

In all honesty, Kirishima didn’t live that far from you. You two were only 15 minutes away from each other, meaning that he frequented your apartment whenever he felt like it. He came over a million times in the past, but this time was different. Very different, in fact. Anticipation was building at the pit of your stomach, but so was a familiar heat that began pooling in the middle of your underwear. 

You tried denying your feelings for Kirishima but you couldn’t help it! Everything about him was perfect. His personality, his humor, his voice, his face, his body… You could go on and on about all the things you loved about Kirishima. 

You would have been lying to yourself if you said that you’ve never thought about him with your hands in between your thighs. Thinking about his massive cock fucking your tight pussy, his fingers rubbing your clit in all the right places, or the way his tongue would feel sucking on your hardened nipples. 

You’d always wonder if he ever felt the same way but he didn’t really seem like he was. 

That was, until tonight. 

You stared at the clock on your wall and saw that 10 minutes had passed, a loud knock on your door making you wake up from the dream like trance you seemed to be trapped in. You quickly turned the doorknob, letting Kirishima inside of your apartment. 

Without saying a word, he pushed your back against the wall and began to roughly grab the side of your face. He captured your lips with his, meeting his kiss with the same aggressiveness, making your head spin at how good it felt to finally get a taste of him.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for us to do this?” He panted, moving down to place sloppy kisses against the crook of your neck, leaving sharp bite marks and dark bruises littered all over your pretty skin.  

“Haaaa, that should be my line” you moaned, “You know how many times I’ve touched myself to the thought of you?” You whispered teasingly, biting the soft flesh of his earlobes. “How many times I wished it was your fingers inside of me instead?” You trailed your fingers down to his, intertwining them with one another before you dragged him into your bedroom. 

You pushed him down onto the mattress, gently getting on top of him and straddling his waist. Grabbing his hands, you placed them on top of your tits, giving them a rough squeeze before you began grinding your wet heat against his clothed cock. 

”Fuck, Y/N, are you sure?” He groaned, “As much as I want this, I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with —“ 

“Eiji, shut up. If I didn’t want this, would I be this wet for you?” You slipped your panties off to the side, two of your fingers dipping into your cunt, showing off the slick that stringed in between your digits. “Here, see for yourself.” You brought your coated fingers up to his mouth, making him suck it until not a drop was left. 

“Shit, you taste so fucking good,” He smirked, “Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself, princess?” 

You slowly made your way off of him, leaning back to position your body against the plush sheets. Slowly spreading your legs, you made sure he got a good view, your pussy practically dripping from how aroused you had become. You snaked your hands down back against your thighs, fingers finding its way onto your throbbing clit. Kirishima was sitting in front of you, all of his clothes still on.

That didn’t seem very fair, now did it? 

“Stroke your cock for me, Eijirou. Quid pro quo, right?” You said wickedly. You stood up quickly to remove the rest of your lingerie, Eijirou’s eyes glued to your body, watching your every move as you moved your hands back to their previous position. 

Kirishima let out a small laugh before he finally stripped himself of his clothing, pulling down his boxers to reveal his impressive length that was already oozing precum. “Is this what you wanted to see?” You nodded desperately. 

“You wanted to see me jerk off while I watch you touch that pretty pussy of yours?” Kirishima began moving his hand against his girth, gathering spit in his mouth before letting it drip onto the head. Lubricating his cock with a mix of precum and spit, he slowly started moving up and down his length. Matching your rhythm, as he watched intensely at the fingers that were still stuffed inside of your cunt. 

Soft moans started escaping your plush lips, the collective sound of small whines, and frantic gasps beginning to fill the room. “Fuck, Eiji. You look so hot stroking your cock like that. Do you imagine that it was my pussy, instead?” You say, panting intensely. 

“Fuuuuck. I’m gonna pound your tight little cunt so hard that you’re not going to be able to walk for days.” He sped up his pace, you quickly following suit. Your fingers pumping vigorously, you continued to rub tight circles over your sensitive clit. 

You were getting closer and closer to the orgasm you craved so much, and the look that Kirishima had on his face indicated that he was too. Your cunt clenched tightly around your digits while Kirishima’s fist held a vice grip on his cock. You had been waiting for this moment for so long, the intensity of your orgasm was surely going to rip through you like a plundering tidal wave.

 “A-ah, Eijirou! I’m so fucking close for you.” Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt yourself cum all over your fingers, your arousal gushing onto the bed sheets and covering the inside of your thighs. 

Kirishima quickened his strokes, the sight of your pleasure the catalyst for his own release as he continued to jack hammer his cock at an animalistic pace. “Please, baby, cum for me, I wanna see you cum all over yourself.” You whined, watching closely as you patiently waited for him to reach his end. Your filthy words were the last push he needed. 

“F-fuck Y/N! I love you so fucking much” he groaned loudly. A few more pumps, and ropes of his cum started painting his chest white, covering his sweaty body, as the remnants of both your orgasms stained the bed. 

You both looked at each other with half lidded eyes, still trying to come down from your intense highs. Breathing heavily, you looked at him greedily and whispered, “You know, I’ve always wondered how good it would feel to fuck myself on your cock.” 

“Well, I did say that I’d pound your cunt so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk for days...” Kirishima cooed as he ran his fingers along your exposed thigh,

“I’d be more than happy to show you, Princess.” 

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。.

#kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha #bnha kirishima

[dathen]

Word Search

Characters:  Jonathan Sims & Sasha James Word count:  1,172 Spoilers:  None Other Tags:  Nonbinary Sasha, Nonbinary Jon, Agender Jon, Autistic Jon, Autistic Sasha Link on ao3

Summary: 

Despite the unwelcome shift his promotion brought to their interactions, rambling about linguistics with Jon was an easy pastime to fall back on. -- Featuring burgeoning Jon and Sasha friendship, mutual infodumping, and Fun with Gender (or lack thereof).  Set during early season 1; written for the @t4tma event.

Sasha fidgeted with her jewelry.  It wasn’t the usual nervous energy that she rode like an ocean wave while chasing down a lead or digging into a subject that snagged her attention.  No, today, she just felt...off.  Was it the new outfit?  It was a bit dressier than her usual trousers-and-cardigan style, with a full length skirt that she’d finally found to be long enough for her height, and a scarf that she bought for the soft texture alone.  Maybe it was the jewelry…?  But that was the same as she usually wore, and yet each time she passed the mirrors in the break room or washroom that off-balance feeling returned.  Finally, she gave in to the impulse to take off her earrings before snatching a file from her desk and marching towards Jon’s office.  A distraction would help.

“Found that statement you said was missing in the sequence, Jon,” Sasha announced as she opened the door and poked her head in.  (Oh good, he wasn’t recording.  Though she was pretty sure the others were exaggerating how grumpy Jon got when interrupted; he never seemed too bothered when she dropped by out of unannounced boredom.)  “Looks like it’s still missing a page, though—no translation with it.”

Sasha was surprised that Jon’s answering sigh didn’t send papers flying off his desk.  “If it was translated at all.  Nothing about the state of this place would surprise me,” he answered.  Jon took the offered file and peered at it with what was now a too-common scowl, but the sourness radiated exhaustion.

Oh, he was wearing earrings again today.  Small silver hoops not too different from a pair she saw Tim wear sometimes.  I wish I could look like that when I wear earrings.  She stomped on that thought with a short shake of her head.  Where on earth did that come from?    

“Looks like my staples were a good idea,” she pressed on with as much brightness as she could muster.  “At least if we get a translated copy, we can be sure it won’t get separated from the rest.”

The tired scowl melted into a tired smile. “Thank you, Sasha.  That has been a very helpful solution.”

The gratitude in his voice stifled the usual irritation she felt at being called "helpful" by someone she’d seen fidgeting before his first interview with Mr. Bouchard.  How someone who’d been hired during her fourth year here ended up with her dream job...no, she wasn’t in the mood to wallow in that on top of everything.  Instead, she flopped down into the chair across from him.  “Mandarin, looks like.  Don’t we have a sister institute in Beijing?  The Pu Songling Research Centre?  Maybe it’s from their archives.”

Jon hummed.  “We can inquire if they originally lent it to the Institute; I don’t know if they translate to other languages in their collection, but perhaps they could put us in touch with someone who can…?”

“Either that or run it through the ol’ google translate.  My Mandarin is a bit rusty.”  At that Jon laughed, a tight-lipped huff of a thing.  He used to laugh a lot more before his promotion, and she found she missed it.  Sasha grinned before she continued.  “I did try learning some once!  When I was sixteen.  I thought the writing was so nice, and wanted to impress my Gran.  Didn’t last long, though.”  

“I’ve heard it’s remarkably difficult to learn,” he said.  

“Oh, for sure.  Switching to French was easier, though I wasn’t a fan of memorizing word genders for everything.”  Her thoughts skipped ahead a step or two, and she found herself adding, “Did you know that Mandarin only has a single pronoun for all genders?”

Predictably, Jon brightened and sat up in his chair, suddenly looking like someone who’d slept sometime in the past few days.  Despite the unwelcome shift his promotion brought to their interactions, rambling about linguistics with Jon was an easy pastime to fall back on.  “Is that so?”  

“Yup!  I won’t pretend that the rest of the grammar wasn’t brutal, but that almost made me jealous, you know?” Sasha answered, toying with the edge of the cardboard folder.

Jon’s attention was like a physical weight.  “Jealous how?”

“Dunno, I kind of wish English had something similar, you know?  Instead of needing words that say right out ‘I’m a woman’ or ‘I’m a man!’”  She kept her voice light, but shifted in the stiff-backed chair.  Sasha hadn’t expected the sudden discomfort, but saying the words aloud felt suddenly vulnerable, like pressing a finger just beside an old bruise—just enough to ache.

The Encyclopedia Look immediately fell over Jon’s face (apparently, according to Tim, Sasha had one too; she wondered if it was as obvious as his).  “You know, even in English some people use singular ‘they’ for their pronouns.  It’s been used as a singular gender-neutral pronoun for hundreds of years; examples easily date back to the fourteenth century.  Did you know that ‘you’ used to be plural as well?”

“I did know that!  And formal, too—it’s funny to think how ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ were the informal means of address.”  Sasha forced down the urge to continue the thought; English shedding the formality divisions in its grammar was a subject she could talk about for hours, but she was curious where this was going.  “Still, I had my papers marked up with enough use ‘he or she,’ not ‘they’! back in secondary to know I can’t get away with it now.”

“That’s changing,” said Jon with a sudden fervor.  “And besides, people aren’t research papers.”

Sasha hesitated, that off-balance feeling suddenly returning.  It wasn’t discomfort this time, but why did it suddenly feel so personal?

Jon seemed to notice her faltering.  “O-of course, it’s not the only way to depart from the binary,” he rushed on.  “I mean, I still use 'he/him' because those are comfortable for me, and—“  He froze, eyes flicking towards the wall before he picked up the statement and held it in front of him like a shield.  “A-anyway, ah...yes.  If someone asked me, I’d have no issue using ‘they’ for someone who asked me.  Regardless of what the Chicago Manual of Style has to say about it.”

It didn’t seem to be a pointed comment (except a grudge against the style guide), but Sasha felt the sudden conviction it was meant for her, even if Jon didn’t mean it for her.  Sasha felt the familiar bite of curiosity that she knew wouldn’t let go, but for once she wasn’t sure if it was directed outwards or inwards.  But Jon looked a bit flustered, still feigning interest in the unreadable document in his hands, and it was getting near the time that she agreed to meet Tim for lunch.  “Good to know,” she answered easily, then tapped the top of the statement. “I’d best get back to work—let me know if you hear back from the Research Centre.”

She had some thinking to do.

------

Thank you to the Magnus Writers discord for answering the absurd amount of questions and fact-checking I somehow needed for a 1k word fic, to evanescentjasmine and Ixempt for the beta reads, and to TheDeafProphet for inspiring the concept! Also an extra shout-out to the Magnus Writers mod team for being my own Linguistics Mutual Infodumping Squad. 

#tma #the magnus archives #t4tma #tma fic #jonathan sims #sasha james #my writing #HEY HEY I WROTE A THING!!! #FINALLY!!!

[scone-lover]

Happy Birthday to Holding Out For a Hero!!! ❤️

art by @subparselkie

I published the first chapter of my longest and most popular fic just about a year ago! And I bet you always wanted to see some shitty outlines. Right? Just giving the people what they want. My brain is chaos and now you all have to be subject to it. Strap in, boys. 😂 Everything’s below the cut!

Read Holding Out for a Hero on AO3

This fic was born because I saw a tumblr post about a hero and villain who are roommates and I just had to Snowbazzify it. I had so many random ideas in my brain, and I’d been engaging with fan content for the CO fandom for a few months now.

So I started off by opening a blank document and writing the Prologue, featuring Shep. I had a few basic facts in mind: Shepard’s a reporter, Simon’s a hero, Baz is a villain, Mage is an evil mayor. And that’s. Literally it. I made it up as I went along. I actually still do that with fics, even though I do try to outline in more detail now—I have to write a scene or two that’s been bouncing around in my head to get a feel for the story, then I can give it a direction.

The document is 337 pages on google docs, LOL. 

Here’s the first ever set of notes I had. I wrote this on March 29, 2020, directly after typing out the Prologue! 

Like I said, absolute chaos. The third Simon bullet point originally said something like “also I’m a superhero and only Penny knows,” then the following day I changed it to “but he’s so handsome? what do???” 

I didn’t publish the prologue until writing 5-6 additional chapters, but I think the only major change was going from Baz being “The Vampire” to just “Vampire.”

Chapter 1 was originally called “not a bloody avenger” before I decided to do the rhyming thing. I actually decided that because I wrote “counter spray and earl grey” down for chapter 2, unintentionally rhyming it, and then @ashspren-writes was like, “you should make them all rhyme”... so I did. 😂 For 25 more chapters.

I have a section labeled “quickie backgrounds” in which I finally sat down halfway through writing Chapter 2 (the blade/vamp fight) and said to myself, okay, maybe they should have backstories or something. Or like, reasons for being the hero and villain. Right, yeah, those would be good to make this into a coherent story. In the first version of that, Simon was a sports coach on the side, not a baker, and Baz was an English teacher. LOL. 

Once I had all that, I literally just wrote for four days. There’s a weird kind of magic to your first-ever fic for a fandom. All your ideas and thoughts and wishes for these characters comes to a head as you suddenly have an outlet for the first time. It’s why I think people’s first works are often their best or most creative or most profound. The first couple chapters took some time and a couple 1am epiphanies, but once I got into a rhythm it was quick going. I wrote a lot of it in a linear manner, but after writing the first Simon/Baz scene (watching the news together in the flat), I doubled back and added Simon going to Penny’s house after meeting the Mage so that I could work her in as a character earlier.

Fast forward to April 5, I had 5-ish chapters written? I thought this fic would have like... 10 total. And be less than 20k. Haha. Ha. I asked @ashspren-writes to beta read for me - I’d been bouncing ideas off her since the beginning - and then I started brainstorming titles. 

The list actually started with that second one. It took a whole 24 hours to decide on the final title. 😂 I thought it might be too cheesy. But hey, it worked out -- now I can’t open AO3 without the damn song getting stuck in my head. 

I worked a LOT with my friend @ashspren-writes on this fic - we were friends long before fandom, and she was the only person I knew at the time who had read CO and was involved in the fandom. I didn’t even have a tumblr at this point, I interacted mostly through Instagram and AO3!

On April 6, right before I posted, I realized that if I was going to actually put this on AO3 I should probably know where the story was going. So I made sure Chapters 1-6 were complete, then I wrote one bullet point per chapter up until 12 or so -- you can read those below.

Then I texted ashspren THIS mess:

Some silly notes:

Then I have a section that says “Why do they even have roommates?” because it was a few chapters in and I hadn’t justified richboy Baz and superhero Simon... living together. Cool cool cool

I also did this cool little writing experiment I want to share. Remember that line in Fangirl that’s like—“Once Cath wrote what she thought was a swordfight, and Wren turned it into a love scene.” (Or maybe it was the other way around? LOL.) Anyway, there’s swordfights in this, AND love scenes, so I wanted to do a play on that for two alternate ways Simon might figure it out.

I have a huge Deleted Section in which I wrote an alternate version of Simon and Baz finding out about their secret identities. I have one version where Baz figures it out first—it’s a very tropey yet angsty scene where Simon comes home totally wrecked from a fight, and Baz realizes as he’s helping with the wounds that he caused them. I actually like it a lot, but it ended up not quite fitting with the vibe of the fic (and I rather like them finding out through kissing better). :) I also had an idea where Simon figures it out because Vampire smells like cedar and bergamot, but it really just wasn’t interesting enough. 😂

Now onto... Outlines. 

I say that hesitantly because I think these are literally a disgrace to outlines everywhere. These are the baby ones I wrote on April 6 right before posting. Some are more detailed than others, clearly...

Gotta live up to my username somehow. 

We do love to see it. ​

I love this next one: 😂 CHAOS, SCONEY.

THEN, I wrote this as a very long text to ashspren, when I realized no sconey, this is not going to be under 20k words. LOL. 

And then I did A Dumb Thing and I put it on AO3, having absolutely NO CLUE WHERE THE STORY WAS GOING. 😂 

This is my favorite heading on the document.

Another one of my favorite notes in there.

This next part wasn’t even divided into chapters yet, it’s just a word vomit. I’m so sorry you have to read this mess.

Hahaha, once upon a time there was angst in this story. 😂 

And then I realized my true calling: bakery fluff.

Then and only then, I actually decided to divide into those things called Chapters. This is the point where I made the admission to mr scone (boyfriend, not husband lol, we just call him that) that I write gay fanfiction, whoops, and can he please help me because he’s a HUGE DC comics fan and knows everything. And of course, he was super chill about it, and he did. He really did. He’s the genius behind Egghead!!! And also the entire Mage-Humdrum-Supercomputer/Politics plot. I’m serious. I did none of that.

I can’t even say I’m trying anymore. “Flort”??? I AM LITERALLY NOT TRYING.

Why yes sconey, so very specific. 😂 

This is what qualifies as a “good” outline for me, that heading was just for my betas. Isn’t it fabulous to see that some of this actually made it in and I’m capable of planning in advance? 😂 

Get ready for the shock of your life, though -- I actually have a SUUUUPER detailed outline for the two finale chapters. Because, well, it’s the finale. Wrapping up loose ends does actually require planning, WHO KNEW. Also I’d been writing and posting for a couple months at this point and it had been several more weeks in quarantine so maybe I’d regained some sense of reality? It’s like two pages but still shittily written, so I’ll just share a couple tidibits.

That bullet point is extraordinarily cracky BUT actually, Baz shooting up from the cloud like an awesome fucking hot dramatic person was one of the very first scenes I envisioned for this fic :D 

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my writing brain! It’s a terrifying place. I love all of you that say Holding Out For a Hero is a well-crafted masterpiece, but respectfully, no ❤️ 

(Though I swear I AM super, super happy with how it turned out - it’s still my favorite thing I’ve ever written. Read it here!!!)

[agirlunderarock]

Hello! For the writer ask, how about 9, 10 and 25?

My dude I feel like I always take so long to answer you ;-; but I always appreciate you coming in my ask box. I hope life is treating you well

#9 Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?

Heres the thing, I go into every writing project like its only going to be a one shot. I get it in my head that I can tell a whole story in one go. So I have the basic ideas and start jotting them down on anything. whether its pen and paper notes from things at work, or in my note pad on my phone or even google docs on my phone. I don't know if I fall into a pantser or plotter. Honestly it just depends on my mood and what my mental state is. It hasn't been until recently that I've actually tried planning out fics. LIke I have a google doc that holds about 50 pages of development for Sas that takes place during the clone wars and follows the main structure for some of the episodes- I've spent about a year going through it- but really is because I want to be able to write a long fic and actually finish it and have good development and get people excited for something. I think some of my better fics are things that I've taken my time on developing and going back and editing sections until I'm happy with it. Thats how chapter 1 of white lie got to be 20 pages long, but I think is some of the best writing I've ever done. Its one of the few things that I can go back and reread what I wrote and feel like its really good and sets up some cool things unintentionally. Now I just have to follow through.....

10. How would you describe your writing process?

I usually get one little scene stuck in my head or a little snippet of dialogue stuck in my head and then I want to build something around that. I’ve only done writing based on a photo once, and really I could have skipped all the page of exposition. I don’t consider myself a person with a process or at least a set process. I might have undiagnosed something and my brain is constantly EVERYWHERE. I think the best thing I can say is that I turn that little scene or the dialogue in my brain for days or weeks at a time, and then put it on paper or in my phone notes, and eventually it makes it into a google doc. i don’t edit because I hate reading my writing after I finish and I want instant gratification. I am a terrible person in that regard because I know for a fact my writing would be better if I just let it sit in the stew for a while and then I went back to edit. My former roommates know this. I write everything at like 2 am and it shows.

25 What part of writing is the most fun?

I really like talking to people about stories and the background things that contribute to stories. LIke theres so much that can go into planning a story and that sets up the mood and why characters react or act a certain way that never even make it into the thing I end up writing, but it still ends up contributing- I don’t know if I’m explaining that right. Like the other night I was talking to @journen who is making a modern au star wars fanart, in which Anakin is a bratty iPad kid. (Their art is amazing btw if you haven’t seen it I highly encourage everyone to go check them out if you don’t already) But we ended up talking about the whole origin story about how Anakin went from like an outdoorsy nature loving kid who thought eating bugs with his lizard was the best way to bond with her to the dreaded iPad kid- and like that was for artwork, but like even as we were talking about it, like it felt like a whole little story was coming through. So I guess thats a long way of saying my favorite things to do is just the sort of brain storming stage? Like trying to see what sticks and trying out different ideas and talking with different people about their ideas and just the back and forth and excited discussion. I used to love writing workshops for my fiction class when I was in university. I used to leave pretty detailed notes- for ever critical note, I had to find two positive things that I liked and always explained why.  Like it didn’t even have to be my work we were talking about- I just like that part of the writing stage and figuring out ways to incorporate that. I like the buzz that comes with fresh ideas

#writing meme

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

2021 Fic Year in Review

@you-are-so-much-better-than-that tagged me and now I’m finally able to answer on my laptop haha!

Total Number Of Completed Works: Total total 78 (holy crap 78??!)

Total Word Count:  376,427  posted words this year

Fandoms I’ve Written In: Good Omens and Shameless

Looking Back, Did You Write More Fic Than You Thought You Would This Year, Less, Or About What You’d Expected?: I didn’t get into Shameless til June/July of 2021, I figured I’d be writing some more for Good Omens. Not as much as I have for Shameless though. Gallavich just gripped me tight and 47 fics later it hasn’t let go since.

What’s Your Own Favorite Story Of The Year?: Oh crap that’s a hard one. I love them all for different reasons. My little one-shots I love because they challenged me to condense the words I wanted to spray out onto the page. 

My WIPs and longer ones I love because I can go on and on lamenting about the feeling of butterflies and blushes and tingling fingertips.

Did You Take Any Writing Risks This Year?: gotta steal @you-are-so-much-better-than-that‘s answer of “ Writing. Posting. It’s all a risk. “

I also wrote more intimate/smutty bits that I don’t usually do, but with Ian and Mickey how could I not?

Do You Have Any Fanfic Or Profic Goals For The New Year?: Reading wise I want to read Cooperative Gameplay, I have heard so many good things, but I haven’t read it yet.

Writing wise I have two long multichapter fics that I want to write that I’ve been wanting to do since... I dunno summer I suspect. I have it all in my head but I haven’t had the chance to start either yet. 

Also finishing my WIPS!

Most Popular Story Of The Year?: Kudos: The Marks We Share Upon Our Skin (Shameless)

Hits: The Sweetest Thing in Life is Love (Good Omens)

Story Of Mine Most Under-Appreciated By The Universe, In My Opinion:

Off the top of my head, Time To Yank The Skeletons Out, It may be because I was arguing with someone about Mickey protecting Mandy from Ian in Season 1 VS Mickey not doing shit when Terry got her pregnant in season 2/3 (I can’t remember). I wrote that with such anger and spite to get justice for Mickey and it just kinda flopped. But I mainly write to get the ideas out of my head and out in the world.

Secret Santa because it’s so cute and fluffy and soft with Christmas magic. As well Mickey getting along and being cool with old people.

What are Brother’s For? Bonding with Mickey and Carl, I had been wanting to do one with Mickey being dyslexic but hadn’t had a chance until I was rewatching an episode and realized that Carl probably was too. And I love those two so much.

Most Fun Story To Write: Hmmm well the funniest stories with them is Paint Me Like One of Your French Girls, and Can We Skip To The Good Stuff?

For Paint Me I was writing it at work and was trying to find reference pictures for Mickey’s nude poses and I googled “Male model on chaise lounge reference photos” and “chaise lounge modelling reference poses” and almost got some straight up naked pictures on my work computer, Luckily I could minimize it quickly enough before anyone saw.

For Good Stuff, I had been googling what different crimes you would commit to be sentenced to federal prison and had scribbled some down on a sticky note and it said “drugs, guns, murder” and I had left the sticky note at my computer and a coworker found it and was like.... what the fuck.

Most Unintentionally Telling Story: Hmm probably The Difference Between Buoyancy and Sinking and I Wanna Feel Something Again. I was in my own mental slump when I wrote Ian in his and just projected everything onto him.

Biggest Disappointment: None. I am my own intended audience so I write what I want, and the fact that other people like what I write is always a surprise and a blessing.

Biggest Surprise: Gallavich gripping around my heart so tightly. I don’t know what it is, I can relate to both Ian and Mickey in different ways. But their love just makes me feel so many different emotions, maybe that’s why because I was just bobbing around lost so much and then I saw a couple tiktoks featuring wedding planning Gallavich and thought, hey they are funny I should watch this show. And then feeling all the emotions again at full force.

My Favorite Part Of Fandom This Year: All the new friends I’ve made in the fandom, how much of a close knit group we are. Especially how I joined into the fandom. I had been scrolling tiktok and kept seeing one user posting about this couple so much, funny things too and I messaged her one day and she told me about Shameless and I binged it in like a week or two. Now she and I are super close and we’re always chatting and sending each other different pictures or videos or fics. I can message her any time of day and be crying about something cute that Ian or Mickey did and she would 100% get it right away.

This fandom in general, the friends I’ve made in it, the people I’ve worked with, the words I’ve read... I feel that it’s brightened my life in a way I wasn’t expecting.

I’ll tag: @iansfreckles @howlinchickhowl @dodgerbear84 @mishervellous

I have subscriptions to their fics and I sob and smile with each update and reread.

#ask game #year in review #2021 year in review #fic year in review

[furiosophie]

Hi! For the fic ask thing, for oh the things we left behind (seriously my fav dinluke fic not joking, it’s so beautiful) 1, 7, and/or 11?? Also sorry if I did this wrong I’ve actually never submitted an ask before LMAO. Anyways hope you’re having a great day! :D

[ask me a question about my fic] - [oh the things we left behind]

I think you did absolutely fine and if you somehow didn’t I wouldn't know bc I don’t usually get questions lmao

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

well it went a little bit like this - two of my fav sw characters somehow miraculously met in canon, I craved more, went into the tag for the Mandalorian final, got hit by a dinluke meme, thought “haha that seems far fetched” and then the next thing I remember was my notes app telling me I had reached the character limit, which is apparently 4k words about my fav space wizard and his space himbo

so yea, after that I just kind of transferred that 4k into a google doc, which spiraled into a 69 page analysis and research document and a currently 60k fic, anyways my brain works in mysterious ways and the heart wants what the heart wants lol

If you want a more serious answer I’ve been in burnout recovery and intensive therapy for nearly two years and I’m kinda processing a lot of my trauma about my childhood and mental health issues through Luke’s journey but that is a bit too deep so let's not go there lmao

7: Where did the title come from?

that’s a bit spoilery, but like in the broadest sense - I thought it fit their respective journeys well bc there is a lot they leave behind along the way, both good and bad, be it trauma or believes they held for a long time or even people they loved 

also should I ever write a sequel I can call it oh the things we found lmao

11: What do you like best about this fic?

the fact that I’m writing it? I know that sounds lame, but I’ve been stuck in deep burnout for a very very long time without even realizing it and my creativity was zapped for like the last 10 years, so this is not only the first time I’m writing again in any substantial capacity but also the longest thing I’ve ever written and it’s the best feeling in the world

and then it’s also lovely people like you who get excited about reading it and I can’t even begin to tell you how much that means to me <3

#thank you for the ask #also wait aren't you the op would asked in the tags if they could make fanart bc I still think about that like three times a day #like just the thought that someone could be inspired to make art by sth I write is sdfghjkl-- #anyways thank u for the support #oh the things we left behind

[guzhuangheaven]

hi! so i’ve been reading up on chinese history and mostly going down wikipedia rabbit holes but i came across your posts about qing dynasty hairstyles. just curious, where did you actually find these information? do you have any tips on researching more niche topics like this? i’m having a hard time with it and i’m not able to find solid info with references or are credible :/ maybe my chinese isn’t that good but I find that searching questions in chinese also doesn’t yield a lot of results. Maybe because i’m using google and not whatever is allowed in China? thanks for the tips !! have a good day :>

Honestly the information on the Qing hairstyles posts I’ve been gathering and holding on for so long and it’s all gathered in bits and pieces so I can’t really list individual sources anymore. It’s hard for me to talk about my process of researching information because 1) it’s totally chaotic and 2) it’s usually not born out of like an inherently academic interest but a more practical need. I write Huan Zhu Ge Ge fanfiction, so everything I have ever looked up about the Qing dynasty is because I needed to know these things to write my fics.

I’m not even sure if any tip for searching for information in Chinese I can give is going to be useful for anyone, mostly because the method is very specific to me as a Vietnamese person.  

(tl;dr: use Chinese search engines and search using Chinese characters not pinyin.)

Other than just cultural osmosis from dramas, most of my research for my fanfics come from these sources:

1. Wikipedia

I usually start with English Wikipedia mostly because I’m a third culture bilingual whose default internet language is English, but for topics on Chinese culture and history, Vietnamese Wikipedia can sometimes have full Wiki articles when the English version are just short stubs. If failing that, I sometimes wander into Chinese Wikipedia, but I don’t find Chinese-language Wikipedia articles are as helpful as the Chinese equivalent, Baidu Baike. More on that later.

2. Google searches

Sometimes, you do get some information from cultural blogs/tourism blogs/websites that tell you things about Chinese culture/history in general just through history search but as you can already tell, they tend to be very general.

3. Information already translated into Vietnamese by other people

So this is where in recent years the popularity of dramas such as Zhen Huan and Ruyi come in useful. There are Facebook groups for fans of these dramas where the people running the fan pages do know Chinese and they have translated a lot of information on Qing clothes, customs and historical records into Vietnamese. A lot of our series of posts on Qing dynasty costumes are retranslated from these Vietnamese sources. For the Qing dynasty costumes posts on this blog, I did do a cursory “reverse engineering”? fact check by putting the names of the different clothing articles etc. through Baidu Baike and running through Google-translated versions of those Baike articles, and if they more or less match what the Vietnamese translations were saying, I’m taking them as probably at least somewhat credible/not totally made up.  

(This is why you shouldn’t take everything we say on this blog as irrefutable.)

4. Baidu search engine, Baike and other Chinese sources

Ok, so the thing you need to know about me is that:

I’m Vietnamese

Since the mid-2000s, I have only ever watched Chinese dramas subtitled in Vietnamese (as opposed to dubbed). Watching subbed dramas helps a lot with listening comprehension but also recognition of common Chinese characters because all Chinese dramas come with Chinese subs as well. This does mean that while I can’t speak or write Chinese, I now can watch raw dramas and understand maybe about 40%? depending on how familiar I am with the tropes in the drama.  

In my bored uni days I used to moderate a forum on Chinese dramas, which required, among other things, searching for and translating Chinese entertainment news.

All this means is that over the years, I have developed certain tricks to search for information in Chinese as a Vietnamese person.

Firstly, it is always much easier to search things on the internet using Chinese characters instead of pinyin, which is usually pretty useless when conveying actual information because Chinese is full of homophones. I can’t actually type Chinese, but the thing about smartphone Chinese pinyin keyboards and Chinese search engines such as Baidu is that if you type in pinyin, it will auto-suggest Chinese characters for you. Of course you then need to be familiar with pinyin and able to read some Chinese characters to know that you’re searching for the right thing. This is where my years of watching Chinese dramas with subtitles come in as it means sometimes I can guess the pinyin by listening to the spoken Chinese and use that to search things and/or recognise the corresponding Chinese characters.

(When you see us use Chinese characters on this blog, I’ve basically just opened Baidu, typed in the pinyin in order to copy the Chinese characters. Yes it’s a whole process.)

The search engine Baidu pretty much works as Google does, and if you search a term, of the first things it will give you is the Baike page for that thing. Baike is probably about as reliable as Wikipedia on non-sensitive topics that would not be subject to censorship, which is good enough usually.

Baike is obviously in Chinese, so to understand that, I would Google translate it into either English or Vietnamese. These days, Google translate is surprisingly okay when translating Chinese-English that if I’m not too invested in the topic, I can make do with just getting the general idea through the Google English translation. However, if Chinese-English fails, and I translate it into Vietnamese. Google is usually better at translating Chinese-Vietnamese as Vietnamese does have Chinese roots and shares syntax and grammatical structures.

Sometimes, when Google doesn’t give me the information I need, I will also put bits of the text that Google can’t make sense of into a Han-Viet converter. Without going into the historical relationship between Vietnamese and literary written Chinese, what this essentially does is convert the Chinese text into Han-Viet words, which is the Vietnamese equivalent of probably Shakespeare English? or maybe Middle English. These Han Viet words are now also written in the modern Vietnamese roman alphabet, which means I can now read the words, and understand maybe 50-60% of it, as vocab used in modern formal written Vietnamese still borrows significantly from Chinese words/have Chinese roots. Han-Viet converters online also come with a dictionary, so the bits I don’t understand I can look up the Chinese characters and understand the information that way.  

Reading whole articles in Han-Viet is a pain in the ass and I would never do that, but bits of converted Han-Viet combined with Google translate usually gives me a pretty good understanding of simple Chinese text like Baike articles. 

Keywords

In terms of keywords, it can sometimes be tricky if you don’t already have a term that you’re searching specifically. If you have a more general question then I guess in that case you would either have to know some rudimentary Chinese to search on Chinese search engines, or resort to searching in English. But if you can form questions in Chinese, I would suggest using Baidu for your searches, instead of Google. 

Navigating Chinese internet as a person who doesn’t speak Chinese can be very daunting and I guess...it just takes time to get used to? I’m not sure if I have any advice other than that, to be honest. -h

#ask #Anonymous

[nellie-elizabeth]

Fic Writer Questions

tagged by: @lizardkingeliot

How many works do you have on AO3?

36

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

975,182 words!! I am rounding in on that one mil so soon... the vast majority of this is Magicians fic.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

1. Magicians (26) 2. Queer as Folk (4) 3. Shadowhunters (3) 4. Good Omens (1) 5. Thor (1) 6. Harry Potter (1)

I have older fic on ff.net, a lot of it is Merlin fanfic, that used to be my main squeeze back in the day. ;)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? These are all five from the Magicians, and three of them (1, 4, & 5) are from the same series!

1. Lover's Touch 2. Maybe This Time 3. Promises 4. Fragments 5. Identity Theft

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! I don't think I can overstate how important comments are... if you're someone who doesn't leave comments, I really encourage you to give it a try, it means SO MUCH to writers. I always want to talk to the people who are kind enough to leave a note!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't really do angsty endings because I have a happy ending guarantee on all my fics, so the closest is probably the gapfiller Bottle Episode which takes place in season two and is kind of about Quentin and Eliot not being on the same page... there's nothing in the fic that explicitly indicates that the canon story will change in any way, so I guess it implies the shitty-ness of what happens in the show. Which is. Pretty damn angsty.

(I've written major character death in other fandoms but NOT for The Magicians! Not permanent, anyway!)

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

A Comet Pulled From Orbit and its accompanying series... it's an Old Guard and Magicians AU and I am BONKERS proud of it! Magicians characters, but they're all immortal and sleeping with each other now... go check it out.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Hmm yeah. Not really in this fandom, just a few borderline critical things here or there. In an old fandom I received quite a bit of anon hate for something really stupid that doesn't even bear repeating. People suck lol.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yep! Fun fact: my highest kudos'd fic, Lover's Touch, was also my VERY FIRST smut scene! It's so funny to read it now because I think it's pretty clear that I'm a little nervous about it and I'm avoiding using certain words lol. I got over that pretty quickly. :)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, not to my knowledge!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not recently, but yes!!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No! I would love to give it a try but I'm nervous about how I'd do with it, honestly.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

I feel like I have to say Queliot just because of sheer amount of time and tears and energy I've devoted to them. I will say that Kirk/Spock and Brian/Justin are like... my formative slash ships and I think shipping them and reading fic for them is what made me appreciate fandom, so I have to give them shout-outs for that reason.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Honestly I'm not ruling anything out at this point! I do have a post season-4 fix-it that had some promise but I'll never get around to spiffing it up... so many other people have already done the exact same story and done it better. It's confined to drafts forever more.

What are your writing strengths?

Big long emotional conversations.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Mundane details. What people are wearing. What they're eating. What music they listen to. Geography. Atmosphere.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I like it if not overdone! I did a tiny bit of that in the Comet 'verse because all of the immortal characters are polyglots and you KNOW they're constantly slipping in and out of languages with each other... but I never did a lot of it because I don't want to rely on google translate for that kind of thing. I'm more likely to say "so-and-so said in [language]" instead of writing it all out.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Twilight, friends. It was Twilight.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I think honestly... A Comet Pulled From Orbit, or my recent one-shot Regrets, or the Absence Thereof. They are about as different as can be, but they both show different strengths of mine.

tagging @hmgfanfic, @ameliajessica, @honeybabydichotomy, @allegria23, and whoever else hasn't been tagged!

#my posts #my fic #writer asks

[seijorhi]

I am sorry this is so late to the ask about favorite fics, but I am a slow not so great writer, and it is also very long 😬. But I still wanted to share this with you, and I hope you like it! Anyways here’s my top ten!

1.) Et Tu

So this is my favorite and most reread. You build the tension so masterfully that it is like a noose tightening around the mc’s neck. The glances and looks from each team member during practice are used to skillfully inform the reader and are used as reference during the confrontation (gotta love continuity!). The fact that you referenced earlier in the fic made me super happy. I immediately knew you were a good writer the second I read it (I mean I already knew you were good, but I feel it was this moment I was like your not just good but phenomenal) The confrontation scene is amazing it had me going from anticipation and curiosity to thirsty so fast. I also liked the fact that you once again described the team in the locker room, so we could know how their dynamic with the reader changed once they were in private. Is beautiful 100/10 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5 gold stars

2.) Like Nobody Else

You are a queen of building tension as seen in most of your works, but this one was the pinnacle of everything I wanted:

soulmates ☑️, yandere ☑️, smut ☑️

Like you put all of my favorites in one fic and I was like ma’am this is some queen level writing. It’s so amazing I have read it multiple times. Will read it again. Never gets old. Will probably go reread it again now.

3.) Bully

Ah yes once again the spice that gives me life ~tension~. So much so that it is the first thing I have written for all top 3. Your just so good at writing it. Unfortunately I don’t really know how to explain how amazing you are at building tension. Like I can cut the tension in your writing with a super dull plastic butter knife (if that even makes sense???). I like how in this fic it isn’t just Oikawa, but also his fan club getting involved. Whenever his fan club is involved it’s like soft very small crime Lord vibes cause it’s other people doing his bidding. I will get my mafia au fix in anyway I can get it until you update Lion’s Den. Ok got off track there, anyways I like all the character interactions in this fic and how Oikawa corners the readers throughout it. Also I have thoroughly enjoyed all the Drabbles you wrote for Bully.

4.) Feral

This is the first fic of yours I read. I love this one as well as your other BNHA fics. I love how you write Hawks in this, and the more you write BNHA fics the better you’ve gotten at writing the characters. There is always a learning curve when writing a for a new character or fandom, but as you’ve gotten more comfortable writing in this world your works have improved. This is the fic I felt as a reader you were getting more comfortable writing for BNHA. It’s such a good fic too. I love how you wrote snapped Hawks in this. I am so happy I found you and this fic.

5.) For Old Times Sake

I love this one so much. Probably cuz the Miya twins are in it lol. I don’t know why?? but I love your description of the pool flashback I just do? Like I will go open the fic and scroll right to that part and reread it. Like I love that scene so much that when you open your requests back up Imma probably ask for a prequel just for an extended pool scene. Like the twins orchestrating getting everyone drunk and then once the reader is making out with them each twin takes turns shooing everyone else out of the pool so they can be alone~.

Anyways amazing fic. Like so good in fact that I moved it up the list twice.

6.) Dirty

👏 MY CRUSTY BOI 👏

You did so good with the smut in this fic. I know you said you were going to practice writing smut more and I want you to know it either A.) paid off (even though I didn’t think you needed practice it the first place because your good at writing smut) or B.) in the case this was practice that you no longer need to practice and that you are now a smut master. Good stuff, and was an amazing surprise to find during my daily check of your tumblr. Here another gold star to add to your collection ⭐️

7.) Good Girl

I call this one the OG even though it isn’t your first fic. I think I started calling it the OG once I figured out it was your first Haikyuu!! smut on AO3. I really liked all the character interactions in this. If you ever feel up to posting the first draft with yandere Sugawara so we can see how the original confrontation plays out and how this changes the interactions I would love to read it. Cause honestly the more yanderes the better lol. Also Oikawa was really hot in this like 🥵. Love reading the second chapter cause the smut is fantastic. Also really liked the cliffhanger to be continued ending that also has a certain amount of finality to it. I have no clue how you were able to write the ending like this for Good Girl or any of your other fics, but I’m happy you write the endings this way. It leaves me fine with the ending you have but leaves the door open for you to revisit and add more to completed fics which can be done through drabbles or with a part 2. Just really well done 👍

8.) Dear Old Friend

First Atsumu, then we get Kiyoomi, and then in a drabble Osamu!!! Hell yeah! The interaction between the reader the yanderes is so different compared to your other fics and I really enjoyed drunk reader. Drunk reader is always fun would read anytime.

9.) Outrunning Fate and Breaking Point

People have said it before and I’ll say it again your souls mate fics are phenomenal. As if that wasn’t enough then you wrote drabbles about both fics. It’s like your trying to steal my heart here like damn. I loved both these fics so much that I couldn’t decide between the two and now they both get to be here. Part of this decision came from the fact that both fics have wildly different dynamics, and the other half was me unable to leave one off the list.

10.) Bite the Bullet

YAAS! Love the make out scene in this and the possessiveness of the Shiratoizawa team. My goodness just take all of my gold stars why don’t you ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Side notes to the top ten list:

- Like I knew what Haikyuu!! was I just hadn’t read or watched it yet when I came across your works. So while I was reading everything I kept on having to google characters and read their wiki pages lol. You know a fanfic is good when you dedicate yourself to entering a new fandom.

-I get so nervous writing Japanese names since my autocorrect is so sensitive and corrects them when I don’t notice so I don’t use a lot of the character’s names lol

-I wrote this before Split came out otherwise it would have been on the list, and I also forgot that Final girl existed and then went to make sure I got all the titles right and was like 🤭 oh no. But alas the list was already made.

-I went into this being all serious and then .2 seconds later it turned into whatever the hell my bastard hands typed so my bad. Also I feel as if I come off as aggressive at points and I need you to know I’m not trying to be aggressive I’m just very passionate about how good u are at writing.

-anyways

-YOUR SO GOOD AT WRITING💖

-sorry for yelling

-please get some sleep u are precious and need to rest. very happy u were able to finish writing split, but would be even happier if you didn’t derive yourself of sleep to get it done. take care of yourself first, writing second

I just-

thank you so much oh my god this is like the sweetest ask I’ve ever gotten i’m crying like?? who gave you the right?? sdfghghjk i’m gonna need a moment 😭

#ask #anon #long post #i don't have words but i hope you know you reduced me to a blushing sobbing mess #ily #you're the sweetest #you have my undying love