#I keep trying to push myself to write different styles and then it all ends up sounding THE SAME WHAT THE FUCK MAN

[wanderingblindly]

Thank you Ella @epylonia for tagging me to share a snippet of a current WIP!!!! I've had such a hard time making progress on anything as of late, but here's something I've been toying with lately!

Welcome to my ✧・ﾟ: *✧idiots in love✧・ﾟ: *✧ blind date AU!

“That’s actually, um. It’s part of why I invited you out. To lunch.” Charles restarts their conversation inelegantly, butchering the natural transition. Alex just quirks a brow in response, still half focused on his lunch options. “I’m going to be around a lot more, and I’m getting to an age. You know, where I might want to, ah.” He can feel a flush steadily climbing up his neck, the still-full glass of wine before him not at all to blame.  Sensing Charles’s unusual hesitation, Alex folds his menu and leans in closer.  “Um. Settle down?” It comes out as more of a question, his voice tight as he tries to simultaneously swallow and finish his sentence.  “You’re kidding,” Alex nearly squawks, eyes wide as he takes in Charles’s increasingly red face – impressively red, really. He looks like he wants to fall through his seat, like he’s hoping the upholstered leather will somehow turn into a blackhole and pull him out of existence. Permanently. “You, Charles Leclerc, want to settle down?” “Remember when you said you’d set me up with someone? A few months ago, at George’s wedding?” Charles’s voice is still pinched, as if his throat is trying to suffocate him and put him out of his misery. “Maybe you could do that? If the offer is still standing.”  Alex just stares at him with his mouth agape, eyes wide as if he’d seen the second coming of Christ himself. Or the apocalypse. Charles can’t quite tell if he’s stunned in awe or terror, or maybe some secret third emotion that’s even worse.  Because calling him a flight risk actually may have been generous.  Charles is, according to his friends, a total man eater.   — Lando sprawls across Max’s couch, back bent around a pile of unfolded laundry and feet propped up on a crumpled up duvet. The entire living room is in disarray, and not that Lando is typically one to judge someone’s housekeeping, but Max is rapidly approaching mole rat levels of recluse. Like, he can’t even remember the last time the man saw the sun. In Monaco? A sin. The floor is littered with clothes, takeaway bags, and crumpled up cans of Red Bull. And Max. It’s also littered with Max, who’s currently mimicking Lando’s pose on the floor between the coffee table and TV – staring up at the ceiling.  “So,” Lando tries to break the silence, drawing out the syllable noncommittally. “How did you know you liked guys?” Max’s tone is flat, as it usually is when he tries to come off as unusually disinterested, but Lando knows his tricks. He shoots upright, looking down at Max with wide eyes before exclaiming, arguably, one of the worst possible responses: “Oh my god, Max, are you fucking gay?”

This tag has been going around for a hot minute, so idk who hasn't done it yet! If you want to, take this as your excuse :) I'd love to see it!!!!!!!!

Edit: formally tagging @likepilotlights now that she’s back from holiday 🥰💖

#wip #f1 fanfic #lestappen #lestappen fanfic #ask me :) #I keep trying to push myself to write different styles and then it all ends up sounding THE SAME WHAT THE FUCK MAN #Second Time’s the Charm

[justmeinadaze]

Aftercare: Roleplay (Steddie X You)

A/N: I am not ok 🫠 God this was fun to write lol Enjoy <3

Warnings: Dom Steddie and Sub reader, Stalker style role-play so rough language and smut, degradation, slapping, some knife play (they rip off her clothes, the don't cut her), dirty talk, choking, spanking, restraint, and of course wonderful aftercare with fluff near the end.

If this isn't your kind of thing dont continue to read! It is consensual and the reader does allow them permission to do this but the role-play is played out like it isn't. NOTE I would NEVER write a version of these boys who wouldn't stop if Y/N said the safe word.

Word Count:3304

“I will never understand why you guys like that crap.”, Steve whines as you three walk out of the theater.

“Oh, come on, Stevie. Scary movies just make you feel more alive you know?” You jump around them enthusiastically making them swoon. 

Since you three had started your relationship, they noticed a big difference in you; mostly you were a lot happier. Your smile rarely left your face especially when they came home from work. 

“This coming from the guy who put stalking her in his roleplay notes.”, Eddie chuckled. 

“Seriously, I was surprised when I read how turned on it made you.”

“Why?”

“I mean, you? Being all scary stalker intimidating? Eddie, oh yeah. But you, baby? You don’t even like the genre.”

“I feel challenged…”, Steve playfully glares at you as you guys make it to his car. 

“Maybe it is.”, you reply coyly. 

“Are we really doing this?”, Eddie claps. “Yay!”

“But you can see him scaring and intimidating you?” The boy chuckles as he points towards his friend. 

“What’s wrong, Daddy? Don’t think you can do it?” His whole posture changes as he stands to his full height. “I’ll make you both a deal. You have free reign to play out your little horror movie stalker fantasy anyway you see fit. No matter what you do or when you do it, I’ll play along.”

You were toying with him, trying to rile him up. You knew they could both be intimidating because you felt it when you dropped into your headspace. Hell, even when they weren’t being rough with you, the gentle aftercare had a power dynamic that made you feel small in a good way. If anyone even tried to hurt you, they would make them pay. 

That being said, imagining them turning that intimidation on you in this way, had your pussy clenching. You were desperate to feel the full force of what they could wield so you continued to poke the bear. 

“Honestly, though, I see myself laughing more than anything.”

Steve blinked down at you as his gorgeous smile began to fade, his jaw tightening in a way you had never seen before. His eyes locked with yours as he slowly stepped forward, knocking into you with his chest. You tried to plant your feet to keep him from moving you but he was too strong. You stumbled slightly till your back hit his car; both his arms gradually coming up to place his palms on either side of you blocking you from going anywhere. You swallowed nervously as his face leaned down to meet your own, biting your lip to hide the moan as his nose grazed your cheek. 

“I guess we’ll have to see won’t we, honey?”, he murmured in a gruff tone. Suddenly, he kissed your forehead, releasing you from his blockade as he opened the door for you with that signature Harrington smile. “Get in, babe. Let’s go home.”

#################

Two weeks had passed and nothing had happened. You thought maybe they had forgotten about it or after planning it decided they no longer wanted to play that game. You were slightly disappointed but didn’t want to push them into anything that may make them uncomfortable so you three continued your relationship like normal. 

Today had been a particularly rough day at work and you couldn’t wait to get home to relax with the boys. When you entered the apartment however, everything was silent. After looking at the stove clock, you gnawed your bottom lip in worry. It was after 9pm and even if Steve worked a late shift, they were both home by now. 

As soon as you picked up the cordless to dial Family Video and the record store to check on them, the phone came to life in your hand. 

“Hello?”

“Hey! Oh, shit. I think I dialed the wrong number.”

“Steve? What are you doing? Where are you guys?”

“Fuck. I already fucked this up. Eddie and I were going to do the stalker thing tonight. Jesus! Ed, I’m so sorry, man.”

You giggle when you hear Eddie grumble something at his friend. “It’s ok, Daddy. You guys can always try again.” The handle of the front door began to jiggle. “Did you forget your key?”

“What do you mean, babe?”

“You’re trying to come in, right?”

“No? Eddie and I in the car outside.” You freeze just as your hand reaches for the knob as it jiggles again. “Baby? Is someone trying to get in?!”

Loud pounding startles you as you shriek in surprise. 

“D-D-Daddy? Sir?”

Steve snickers as the banging gets louder, your heart pounding with fear. You’ve completely dropped in and they know it to. 

“IS someone trying to get in, little girl? I promise if you open the door now my friend and I will go easier on you.”

“I-I’m not afraid of you.”

“Hm but you will be. Now be a good girl and open the door.”

“No.”

“Your call.”

The phone abruptly disconnects as you drop it and run to your bedroom. The front door flies open as soon as you find a hiding space under your bed. Covering your mouth to stifle the fear in your throat, your eyes widen as you see two sets of boots wonder into the living room. 

“Where the fuck is she?”, Eddie growls. “Come on, pretty girl! Don’t make this harder than it has to be!”

“No, Ed. This is fun. Little girl wants to play hide and seek.” 

You watch as they split up to search for you starting with their own rooms before stalking towards yours. You hold your palm over your mouth tighter as you listen to them talk. 

“You really think she’s stupid enough to hide in here?”

“Of course, she is.” The bed dips down as Steve takes a seat. “God, I can’t wait to find her though. I’m going to fuck her so hard she won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

“I love your ambition, Harrington. As long as I can cum down her throat, I’m happy.”

“Do you think we should let her cum to?”

“Oh of course. Sluts like her fucking grip your dick hard when they cum. It feels so fucking good.”, Eddie sighs in pleasure at the thought. “We won’t be able to do any of that until we find her though. Which actually reminds me…”

The boy abruptly drops on his heels, tilting his head to the side as he finds your frightened frame. “Hey, little one. I guess you’re right, Steve. She IS that stupid.”

You yelp as you feel hands roughly grab your ankles and pull you out from under the bed. Fingers yank back on your hair and lift you to your knees. “I don’t know why you even bother hiding, baby. You know one way or another we are going to take what’s ours. You just make it harder with all this foreplay.”

Eddie leans down, wrapping his hand around your throat as he smirks. “What’s the matter, little girl? I thought you said you were going to be laughing.”

He tugs you to your feet and you immediately push against him with your hands, trying to pull yourself free from his grasp. Your hand collides with his cheek and he responds by slapping you harder before throwing you onto the mattress. 

“Oh! Baby girl likes to play rough! We can do rough, honey.”

Steve unbuckles his belt and while Eddie holds your arms above your head, the other boy ties it around your wrists. You freeze when you feel cold steel touch you face. 

“Don’t. Move.”, the metalhead growls. 

He grabs your shirt aggressively in his fist as he cuts it and your pants off your body with the knife before passing it to Steve. Gripping your throat again, he slides his fingers between your folds into your dripping core. 

“I should have known you’d fucking enjoy this. No panties and you’re soaked…such a fucking whore.” Eddie releases your throat to lightly smack your face again. “Keep your legs open!”

Your eyes roll back as his fingers thrust into you at a fast pace as the sound of your slick fills the room. He abruptly pulls his digits out of your pussy, hitting you between your legs before rolling you on to your stomach. 

He pumps into you again, pushing three fingers in making you groan at the stretch. Steve kneels by your face and roughly yanks your hair. “Look at yourself.”, he commands as he points to your full-length mirror in the corner of your room. “Look at how much you’re enjoying this.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel the coil about to snap but his hand aggressively pinches your cheeks as he shouts next to your face. “Open your fucking eyes and look! Watch yourself cum on his fucking fingers, you dirty slut! Allowing two strangers to take you so easily. You enjoy this don’t you? Tell me!”

“I-I like this…fuck… I’m…”

“That’s right, pretty girl. There you go.”, Eddie coos as he slaps your ass. Steve continues to grip your cheeks, holding your head towards the mirror as came.

Your head fell against the sheets, trying to catch your breath as Eddie climbed off the bed to remove his clothes. His friend rose to his feet, lifting your hips so your ass was in the air. The metalhead jumped back onto the mattress, spanking you again as he leaned down to spit into your cunt.

As he started to push himself inside you, you began to crawl away feeling overwhelmed by the intense pleasurable feeling of just his tip alone. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” Eddie’s hands roughly gripped your hips as he held you in place. “Stevie, you want to help me here?”

Steve grabbed your hair, sliding his jeans and boxers down his legs. 

“Open.”, he commands, tugging on your hair when you don’t comply. “Open your fucking mouth!” 

Eddie uses the distraction to sheath himself inside of you and as you gasp at the intrusion Steve shoves his cock in your mouth. 

“Why do you fight it, honey? You know you’re loving this, right, Ed?” The man smacks your behind and you moan around the other boy’s length. “Fuck that feels so fucking good.”

“Jesus, Y/N.”, Eddie grunts. His chest falls against your back as his hand grips your throat. “You like being used by us, don’t you? You tell us no but your pussy doesn’t fucking lie. You’re making a mess all over my cock right now.”

Steve holds your head against him as you gag; Eddie grinding his hips harder against yours. The man steps back as the metalhead tugs you to your knees against him, gripping your throat tighter. 

“Tell me, baby. Tell me you love way my cock feels.”

“I-I-I… fuck…I love the way…your cock feels.”

“Cum for me. Show me how much you love my dick tearing you open.” Your eyes shut as you throw your head back against his shoulder, tremble against him as you cum. “Good-Good girl. Now—mmm—get that pretty mouth ready because I’m going to…to cum down your throat and your… going to fucking swallow it like a good slut.”

He pushes your lower half back down against the bed, pumping into you roughly. Abruptly, he pulls out of you, flipping you on to your back, and straddles your face with his knees placed on either side. After shoving his cock into your mouth, he thrusts his hips till you feel his seed hit your tongue. “Swallow!” You flash him your tongue showing him you had done what he asked. 

As soon as he climbed off you, Steve tugged on your ankles bringing you closer to him. Your body twitches as he glides the head of his cock through your dripping folds, chuckling when you moan as he circles it around your clit. 

“Do you want my dick, baby?”

“Y-yes, please.”

He leans over your fucked out frame and smacks your face before gripping it between his fingers. “I can’t fucking hear you, little girl. Louder.”

“Yes, Steve, please!”

A cocky smile spread along his lips as he breaches your entrance. True to his word, he thrust into you at an almost animalist pace, hitting every sensitive spot inside you and then some having you see stars. 

His chest fell to yours as sloppily kissed your lips, continuing to roll his hips into yours. 

“This pussy belongs to us. No one else can fucking have you.”

You whimpered when you felt the belt on your wrists tighten and the cold steel of the knife brush against your cheek. 

“Because if anyone else even tries to take you away from us, we’ll make them regret it.”, Eddie grins as he hovers over your face before kissing your lips as well. 

Steve pushes up on his hands as he pounds into you harder, feeling your pussy clench around him. Your back arches and the metalhead quickly covers your mouth with his palm as you cum harder than you ever had before.

A sarcastic smirk flickered across his face as his forehead fell against yours. “Beg me to cum inside you, honey.”

“Pl-please, cum inside of me.”

His fingers come to wrap around your throat again as his eyes penetrate yours angrily. “Make me believe it, little girl.”

“Please, Steve. I-I-I want you to fill me up. I need it, PLEASE!”

Steve’s eyes closed as he released you, his head falling to the side as his thrusts became sloppier and you felt him warm your insides. 

Your eyes shut as you nestled your nose against into his hair. Hands gently held your arms as they removed the belt from around your wrist. Lips tenderly kissed their way up your limbs to your shoulder before Eddie’s much softer voice filled your ear. 

“You did so well, sweetheart. Our beautiful girl. There’s no rush here. Take your time and whenever you’re ready we’re going to take a bath, ok?”

“Can I…have some water?”, you ask in hoarse voice. 

“Yeah, baby. Of course. I’ll be right back.”

You wince as you feel Steve pull out of you, rolling to your side as he props himself on his elbow and delicately brushes some stray hairs out of your damp, sweaty face.

“Did I convince you that I could be ‘scary stalker intimidating’?”

You giggle as your eyes open to meet his. “Yeah, you did. You BOTH surprised me actually.”

“Alright, sweetheart. Sit up and drink this.”

They held on to you as you shakily raised yourself to a seated position. “Can, um, would you mind…”

Eddie smiles as he brings the bottle to your lips and slowly tips it back. As soon as you finish, he passes the rest to his friend who chugs it back before placing it on your bedside table.

“I’m ready for that bath now.”

“Good cause you smell.”, he teases as you laugh at him. 

Steve grins as he runs ahead of you both to get it ready. Eddie lifts you into his arms and you keen into his neck as you both wait. The man lowers you in carefully before they join you and you happily sigh as they clean your aching body. 

You notice someone is lingering at your wrists a while and turn to find the metalhead massaging the imprints the belt had left in your skin. 

“Did you like it, Y/N? We were a little nervous when planning this because we didn’t want to trigger something for you by hitting you too hard or anything.”

“We figured though you would use the safe word if you were uncomfortable.”, Steve follows as he leans back against the porcelain. 

“Yeah, no, I liked it a lot. I think what helped push me there was thinking Harrington actually fucked up.” You laugh as they chuckle along with you. “Um, I, thank you for…hearing me about…not being too violent. If you had tried to cut me, I probably would have used the safe word.”

“Honey, you don’t have to thank us for something like that.”

“And we would never hurt you like that. We aren’t really into that kind of thing either. We thought about using a fake knife but we thought it added to the scene if we could tear off your clothes which, by the way, I will buy you a new outfit tomorrow.”

“Oh, Eddie, baby. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t HAVE to. I want to.” You beam up at him as you kiss his cheek. 

“Did you two like it? Stevie?”

“I did. I…like watching you…submit to me. To us.” 

A shaky moan leaves your chest at his words. “Yeah? What else did you like?”

“I loved feeling your pussy drip all over me.”, Eddie whispers in your ear.

Your finger glide between your legs as you rub them against your clit.

“I still love the way those big, beautiful eyes look up at me when I fuck you.” Steve leans forward till his nose grazes yours. 

“Oh and that little voice you like so much, man. Hearing you tell me you love the way my cock splits you open…”

“That’s right, Ed. The precious, tiny, submissive voice reminding us that she knows what’s ours.”

Steve replaces your fingers with his thumb as he plays with your nub while Eddie sucks on your neck. 

“Who does your pussy belong to, baby?”

“Fuck…you two. M-my pussy and body are yours.” Your breath hit his lips as you pant out moans. “I love you both so much.”

He leans forward, connecting his mouth with your own as you came. One of your arms reached up to wrap around the other boy’s neck as you pulled his lips to your own. 

Steve rose to his feet bringing you with him as Eddie followed. He ran the towel obnoxiously through your hair making you laugh as he smiled down at your gorgeous face. “I love you to, honey. Did you want to watch a movie tonight? Maybe something light.”

“That’s no fun.”, Eddie grinned as he pushed his old high school Hellfire shirt over your head and you held onto his shoulders as you stepped into your panties. “We also bought some quick made meals for tonight so you don’t have to wait too long for dinner.”

“Good because I’m starving.” 

The boy kisses your forehead starting to head for the kitchen before he pauses and turns back to kiss your lips. “I love you to.”, he chuckles as he runs off to complete his task. 

Steve picks you up and places you on the couch. 

“How about Back to the Future?”, you ask and he smiles at your suggestion. 

Eddie jumps over the back of the couch and hands you a bowl of microwavable food they know you like. Thanking him, you sling your legs over his lap as Steve comes to sit beside you so you can lean against him. Halfway through the movie, the metalhead lays down and hugs your legs to his chest as you play with his hair. Laughing when you hear soft snores, you turn to Steve so you both could tease him only to find he had fallen asleep to. His arm was draped over your chest as his head hung back over the sofa. 

You felt like you wanted to cry as ran your hands delicately over them both. You had spent most of your dating life in and out of awful relationships. How had you been so blinded to the two men right in front of you? 

Smiling to yourself, you closed your eyes and fell asleep in their embrace wishing you could pause this moment so the three of you could stay like this forever.

#steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #joseph quinn #fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #joe keery #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #daddy steve harrington #sir eddie munson #steddie x y/n #eddie fanfic #steddie ask #steve stranger things #aftercare #aftercare is important #steddie x reader #steddie smut #steddie x you #steddie fluff #steddie fanfiction #eddie stranger things

[alta1red]

EDEN. | IMAGINE I. INTRODUCTION.

— 𝑺𝒀𝑷𝑵𝑶𝑺𝑰𝑺 : EDEN [ READER/YOU ] IS RETHINKING LIFE CHOICES, AND WANTS TO GO TO HELL FOR A BRAND NEW START.

— 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 : POOR LIFE DECISIONS, EDEN REBELLING JUST BECAUSE.

— 𝑷𝑻 : I

— YOU, were once a radiant Angel, now — With your punishment, you've been reduced to a mere Gardener.

— Why weren't you sent plummetting down to Hell, why weren't you in Exile? Everything to you had it's question, and that was your flaw. You were curious, adventurous, and naive —Well, before. With how long you've been in the Garden of Eden, it gave you more than enough time to reflect on who, on what you used to be.

— Your wings were reduced -clasped together tightly, and your chains have been doubled —Freedom was a dream you received in fractions. And even now, sometimes you still dream on rebelling.

— However, you were monitored closely, to ensure you were doing your duty ( punishment ) and to add unto that you were often placed in " How to be an Obedient Angel 101. " Lessons directly from Micheal, his words — " Such a precious asset shouldn't be punished too harshly ! Let's just make sure she goes through every lesson again. " He suggested to the other Archangel's.

— Maybe if you weren't listening to closely that time ( guilty, still. ) You wouldn't have noticed how his voice turned cold, and stern —Still keeping it's authoritarian tone, maybe you wouldn't have noticed how his gaze to you changed: from fondness to disappointment.

— Even then, as you planted and nurtured the plants in the Garden, you still felt numb to the past —Sure you felt guilty, but it wasn't like you exactly regretted ever doing it in the first place.

— Maybe a fresh start would do you some good?

— There's only one more month until your punishment ends once and for all.

Fin.

_______________________⠀⠀༺ ✤ ༻⠀⠀________________________

— AA, I'm so sorry for not updating in a while, I've been really busy with school work, and I was hit with a massive creativity wall + Writer's block, but don't worry content will probably be pushed out at a normal pace soon, maybe,

— I've been trying to get back into my old writing style so if it's a abit off I'm truly sorry for that,

— The reason why Michael is included ( and soon to be others, ) and not following Hellaverse canon is because well I think I want to explore it myself, don't worry I'm not gonna go unto the whole religious route many of the characters that I will, add or imply to exist will have different roles and such.

— I might post my design of him, and his refrence sheet soon ( no promises 💪‼️ )

— The " Darling Artisan, " will have another imagine soon.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel oc #alta1red

[babygorewhore]

I’d never leave you

Tate Langdon x fem reader

Hurt comfort. WC. Just over 1k

Hi! So this is a Tate version of hurt comfort with a reader having both autism and BPD. My moots encouraged me to write this because of the inclusivity I bring with these disorders. It’s short. And I tried to keep Tate in character. But I hope you enjoy! This will be my latest AHS fic because I have a few other fandoms so it’ll be a while before my next!

Warnings! Autistic episode and BPD episode depicted. Anger! Destroying room. Hair pulling. Tate slightly misunderstands reader. Not proofread

Tate was frantic as he searched the murder house for you. He hadn’t talked to you in a few days. Close to a whole week. He tried so hard to respect that you asked him for space. He really did. But he heard whispers from the other ghosts that you were in a dark place.

You weren’t dead like him and he wanted to keep it that way. He would never harm you on purpose or let anyone hurt you. He had sulked around the shadows, remembering how it felt to hold you. Your arms were his favorite place to me.

Tate heard a loud bang. Then a crash. In your bedroom. His old room. Bursting through the door, Tate’s brown eyes widened as he took in the state of the space.

You were crouched down, your notebooks, jewelry and clothes thrown around you. The dresser was on the floor and drawers were pulled out and haphazardly scattered around you.

You had spoken about these episodes before. Tate understood you were autistic along with a personality disorder. You kept it away from him, insisting he couldn’t handle your mommy and daddy issues that caused some of it. He had begged for you to open up but that seemed to only make you pull away more.

Your face was deeply flushed, your hair ripped out of its previously style and Tate cringed when he saw a few chunks in your clenched fist that was against your head.

Tate rushed over to you, reaching out but you jerked back and started gaining your balance as you stood. “What are you doing in here? I told you to leave me alone!” He immediately felt hurt but he pushed it aside and scanned you. Your eyes were glazed over. He couldn’t tell if it was from crying or lack of sleep.

“I heard something and I couldn’t just not see what happened-“

“Oh god, Tate. Come on. I can’t even-this is-fuck everything is too- I can feel the texture of that shirt! I can’t stand it!” You shakily pointed at a fleece t shirt on the floor. “And my phone won’t stop buzzing.”

Tate nodded, trying to understand through your volume. “I can put it away-“

“No! I don’t want any of it. I want it away from me! I’m so sick of this. And I can’t find my headphones.” Your voice cracked.

Tate knew those were a safety net, at first he thought you wanted to ignore everyone but it was just protective measure. “I’ll find them-“

“I don’t want help!” This time you yelled louder. “I just want a different mind. I hate myself. I don’t want to be me, Tate. Every day, something else adds up. And I can’t handle it anymore.” As you continued speaking, your voice became lower.

Tate took a step closer. He just wanted to hug you and make this all better. He wanted to touch your too big sweatshirt and kiss your sweet face that he loved so much. “Baby, pushing me away isn’t right. Why don’t you want me to help you?”

He half expected you to scream but instead you sank onto the wooden floor. Opening your palms where torn out hair slowly slipped off your flesh.

“I don’t like how this feels.” You shuddered, trying to fling the rest off.

He took the opportunity to quickly settle in front of you, his knees touching yours as he experimented if you’d pull away. You didn’t. Tate carefully took your hand and took the end of his shirt and started wiping away any remaining strands. He hated that you did that but he refrained from saying that right now. He didn’t want you to tell him to leave again.

“What-What happened? Why are you so upset?”

You were visibly shaking now, teeth chattering slightly. “I don’t have a good reason. My friend said something-and it was just off. I felt like she really didn’t like me. Maybe she was talking about me to other people. And then-I couldn’t find my headphones. Everything went shit.”

The last thing he wanted to do was move away from you but Tate forced himself to lean down and inspect underneath the bed. There they were. He crawled forward, shifting past you and pulling them out. “Found them, baby.” Your shoulders slumped heavily as you took them. Tears prickled in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Tate. I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I know you just wanna help-I didnt wanna hurt you-“ He shook his head fiercely and gently leaned forward.

He gauged your reaction but you met his presence as he rested his forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m always gonna be here. And I want to help you. Even if you’re angry or-hurting. I’d never leave you. I love you…” he trailed off.

“Maybe you shouldn’t. Because I don’t want this to happen again but it will. And I don’t want you to be stuck with another problem.” Tate then cupped your cheek, his own eyes growing glassy as you held eye contact a little longer.

“No. You’re not a problem. You are everything. You hear that? I don’t care if I have to hold you while you cry or scream. If I have to listen to music from playing outside of your headphones all day, then I will. I would do anything for you, baby. And you want to know why?”

You shrugged a little.

“Because I love you, baby. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And-I don’t want you to push me away anymore. You can tell me anything.”

He didn’t want you to argue as you opened your mouth.

“I love you too.” You whispered and his chest expanded with warmth as you brought him into a hug. He nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing a few gentle kisses against your skin.

Begrudgingly moving away, Tate scanned the bedroom. “Hey. I’m gonna make this livable again. Why don’t you put these on and try to relax a little? Can you do that for me?”

You nodded and he could tell you were growing tired from the intensity of your emotions. He helped you stand and guided you to the bed. Tate stroked your cheek with his knuckle as you settled against the pillow.

He would try his best to understand more and relate to you. But for you? He would do anything.

Tagging

@scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @reidsbtch @imyourdaninow @icannot3 @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @taintandviolent @elaine-in-the-membrane @enchanting-evan

If I forgot anyone forgive because I’m baby.

#evan peters #american horror story #evan peters imagine #tate langdon #Tate Langdon angst #Tate Langdon hurt comfort #hurt comfort #evan peters fanfiction #tate langdon imagine #tate langdon angst

[vqrtualheartss]

CCan you do one where miles find out reader is literally obsessed with art and has a room alone for her drawings and paintings one of them being him

ᴅ☆ᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀʏ|

9:12 pm This is my first request and I love you for it. Anyways, I'm trying to keep this one short and cute because I just realized I cannot make a story short for my life so yea lol.

The like, plot about the senior partner programme is taken from a book I read on wattpad called 'His Tesoro' by sjpwell and I heavily recommend you read it. heavily.

For fem readers, no specific race disclosed

Warnings — idk, bad grammar

In all honesty, deadass, I would've been asleep by now if not risking my hands to ink poisoning or that our teacher was picking the pairs for the annual senior partner programme. You'd basically share classes, be expected to hang out and by the end of the year write a report based on what you learnt about them. There wasn't anyone I was against being paired with but there wasn't anyone I was looking to either, all of them were the same people just different fonts, nothing interesting.

"And lastly we have Miss Valentine and Mr. Morales. Until your new schedules are emailed to you, you are expected to interchange the order of classes starting with the male's in the pair. Happy bonding"

Before I could get up, someone tilted down my phone screen, shifting my attention from it to them, the Mr. Morales— Miles. My nose slowly twitched, as I tried to fight the tug on my lips.

"Hi angel" I sighed, smiling at the nickname. Apparently my last name reminded him of Cupid and because Cupid's somewhat an angel, it makes me one

"Good morning Miles" pushing out my phone gesturing for him to hold it, I gathered my stuff preparing to head to his class. "Formal as always" he shook his head looking down at me with my bag on one shoulder, the other strap swaying freely. I shrugged at his comment, bringing out my hand to retrieve my phone, instead of handing it over, he held onto my hand, intertwining them as he examined the free-styled drawings.

"Talent much? Cool if you could put some on me?" He smiled widely, dangling my phone in his other hand as some type of persuasion. The smile grew evident in my voice, "Alright". I mean, why not, for his half of classes I didn't have to do anything in them so might as well.

"These dopee. Y'know low-key we should get matching ones sometime" . I smiled, "Maybe"

Annoyed at my frequent one word responses he turned around to face me as I slipped from underneath his arm " I hope you're not gonna be like this when I come by later."

Standing infront him with my mouth slightly agape, I questioned, my arms mirroring his crossed ones. "When you do what?"

"How else are we supposed to get to know eachother? And I'm guessing you're eager to kick me out and wrap this up" Narrowing my eyes, I pinched and rubbed my nose bridge.

There weren't many reasons why he couldn't stay over but they held alot of weight, one being my art room and two I'd probably make a fool of myself.

Looking up at him to protest, he swiftly transferred his initialized chain from his neck to mine before walking off and shouting, "Text me the directions and I'll be there" .

I dragged a hand down my face, I was going to send him them but that bitch.

knock knock, the door creaked open as a faint light faltered to the floor

"Miles? If that's you come in" "Woww, now imagine if I was a serial killer" Taking off his jacket, he continued "You would've been dead by now"

I shrugged , eyes never leaving the sketchbook propped on my right knee. He turned around, a dead expression on his face as he dragged the book from my lap "Nah, you gave your word" I most definitely did not

"Okay, fine, my attention's yours and yours only. Happy?" I gave him a tight-lipped smile as he sat on my bed, flipping through the pages "very" .

I remained a neutral expression as if my heart wasn't waiting to jump outside my chest.

Recently he's been the center of attention of my art and obviously I don't need him to see that. My heart rate calmed, his eyebrows furrowing, the pages seemingly went blank "I thought you drew more than this?" "I recently started that sketchbook,"

My expression softened, smiling internally as relief took over my body. However, my mind went as blank as the pages. Where the hell are those drawings then ?.

He hummed, moving from the bed to the office chair. He slid it over beside me before holding onto the chain with a finger of his, bringing me even closer to him.

"This makes it look like you belong to me in some way".

I copied his 'hm' in response despite my stomach flipping on end. He tugged on the chain releasing it. "I swear to god I'm going to make you talk. One way or another" leaning back into the chair manspreading, I smiled while maintaining a scowl. "Ew, you look like a man"

"Oh so now you speak?" He scoffed before continuing "Where's your bathroom" "Straight down, first door on your..." I paused a bit unsure of the direction to tell him ".. right, first door on your right"

He leaned on the door frame, crossing his arms "Don't know your directions by now?" "Get out"

Glancing at the time on my phone a few times, it took me a while to register that Miles was gone for more than 20 minutes "That's weird". Heading outside, I shuffled to the bathroom that he would've went to find it empty. I stood with my hands wrapped around my torso trying to figure his whereabouts. Shit. I went to the one place I hope he wasn't, my art room.

Approaching said room I saw the door slightly ajar, his shadow lingering on the walls. Without a plan I went inside, harshly biting down on my lip to brace myself for future embarrassment.

"You really weren't going to show me this?" I nervously laughed, eyes darting around the room inspecting for any sketches, drawings or paintings with him as the centerpiece. My eyes lingered on a drawing of Miles a little longer than I should've, he sent himself in the direction of my gaze. I shut my eyes, squeezing my fists tighter with each passing second. He took up the sketchbook situated on the desk, twirling through the recent pages before turning.

"Is this me?" His eyebrows drawing nearer as he grinned. I bit harder onto my lip before attempting to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation, even if it was just on my side. "No?"

"Looks an awful lot like me" Placing the book into its original position he folded his arms, sitting infront the desk

"I do not have the mental capacity for this" I sighed, shaking my head. A bead of blood formed on my lips.

Looking up and down my frustration filled body, he replied "Got me on your mind a lot, huh?" Laughing at his own teasing, I used the base off my hands to rub my eyes viciously, an honest attempt to push in my eyeballs.

Morphing into a ball of embarrassment, a smug expression splashed on his face. Hissing my teeth, the colours of his eyes went onyx as he stared. I returned his challenging gaze before he stood up, walking over and standing dangerously close.

Towering over my height, he smirked holding my chin between two fingers. What the fuckk. In that second I felt.. wierd, warm and fuzzy on the inside.

IDK HOW TO END THIS SO I DIDN'T.

©vqrtualheartss 2023 ©dae 2023

#soundcloud #black tumblr #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #miles morales #across the spiderverse #black reader #dae #vqrtualheartss #x you fluff #x y/n #x you #xyz #x reader #final fantasy xiv #oc x canon #oc artist #y/n #across the spider verse spoilers #across the universe #spider man: across the spider verse #artists on tumblr #writeblr #writing #black and white #fem y/n #nova

[vesperlionheart]

Hello｡◕‿◕｡

I have had an idea in my head for a long time. But it is large, so I wanted to ask a few things.

How do you juggle all the characters? Do you write the setting first, and then create a backstory for each character? What is the most convenient way to prescribe all this? And how not to be afraid that no one needs my idea, and I'm wasting my time on unnecessary things? If my goal is to create my own fanfic and get feedback.

I like the idea that my story will end and people will still be writing reviews 5 years from now. How do you feel when you receive feedback? When did you decide it was time to write your first story and see it through?

large world building projects are so much fun, it always feels like snuggling into a comfort blanket or sweater you can really immerse yourself in, at least for me it does.

Juggling a lot of characters can be a struggle since I'm personally a world driven type of author as opposed to the character driven and plot driven types of authors you might run across. What I mean by that is for me the world usually appears first in my mind and I have to build it out before I know exactly who lives in it or what's happening. I think the most convenient way to prescribe all the steps you want to take starts with knowing who you are as a writer and what your personal style is cause we're all made a little different. I got to know myself better as a write after reading The Curiosities, a collection of short stories by three different authors who all are a different type or have a different approach to writing. (I loved their notes to each other reviewing their stories and its a great read.) Knowing what works for you is what's most vital, and a lot of trial and error shouldn't be feared in order to better understand yourself. You'll never waste time trying to grow and improve yourself, even if you don't achieve the fame or money in the end.

For me, when I come up with a story idea, I am usually provoked by some other media I see and feel the urge to make something more suited to my tastes. I read about vampires or werewolves and wanna do my own spin on an urban high school for monsters, I get a fraction of information about some obscure mobile video game and want to run with it in a new direction that gives it lore and meaning beyond the pretty visuals. What do you enjoy reading or playing or watching? Chances are those are topics you might enjoy creating with. For me writing is like 'play' and I enjoy playing with some things more than others as my tastes change and mature with time. On the more technical side of things, in order to build a functioning story I try to make sure I have a problem in my story and I try to ensure my protagonists are characters with needs or desires that push them along through the narrative. These can change depending on the setting they're in.

When I first started writing I was like 12/13 and I just wanted to write for the fun of it and didn't know what I was doing when I posted my first fic online. I appreciated the validation of others who read my work and commented/reviewed, and I think later on that motivated me to switch up my style and try new things for the thrill of it. (No regrets, 10/10 would do again.) You asked about "how not to be afraid that no one needs my idea, and I'm wasting my time on unnecessary things?" Believe me when I say people need stories. I'm not sure about a lot of things in life but I know stories have existed as long as people have lived and there's a reason for that. We need stories as a species. Maybe you do create a story that gets 0 comments or only a few likes and clicks. It happens to most of us when we start out. We think we're making crap and never realize our fields need that fertilizer for a better harvest in the future. You'll make some bad poems and stories and mess up plays or scripts in your life and that's good as long as you don't let it stop you. Keep trying and figure out what works for you. Keep digging until you strike gold. Your brain and your soul deserve the nourishment creating gives them. Make art any way you want and don't look back.

It's fucking amazing to know someone loved what I wrote, even 5-10+ years later. It's humbling and haunting at the same time. I'll never stop being in awe of how great it is to know someone, somewhere in the world of endless possibilities, found some joy in my story. I'm forever in awe of how cool that is. But the older I get the more I realize this writing thing I do, this expression of creativity I gravitate towards, is a gift unto me for my own sake. I need to create stories. I want to live a little in these dream worlds of mine before the daylight burns it all way and makes me go back to work. Writing is a means of self preservation at this point, even though it's a lot of hard work I still mess up on. I find so much joy in the ideas I try to flesh out, so I hope you can discover for yourself the unique joy of creating too. Don't let fear hold you back. Write your story.

#I think I rambled a lot but hopefully there's something good there #asks #writing

[lilytii]

I was thinking about writing a fanfic scene between my Tav Estelle and Astarion, and then I had all these little headcanons and I felt I just wanted to post this! It starts in Astarion's POV, though there are a few in her POV as well.

The Way We Love

Astarion POV

"Our love, my dear, is like the wild unpredictability of the night. Chaotic, fierce, unyielding, unapologetically honest, and simply maddening. It's a reflection of the world we've known, and I wouldn't dream of it being any different."

"It's in the way you stifle a laugh after one of my jokes, even the lamest ones. Your quiet, knowing pause speaks volumes."

"Your quick-witted sarcasm always keeps me on my toes, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Your determination and the unwavering assurance in your eyes when you speak up - people believe in you, and I've found myself among them."

"The adrenaline coursing through your veins as you rush into battle, your fiery fighting style – it thrills me, especially when you wear that cheeky smirk covered in the blood of your enemies."

"You've had my back from the beginning, even when you had every reason not to. You trusted me and treated me like anyone else."

"The moments when you lean me into your neck as I feed from you are both intimate and strangely comforting."

"Our ability to push each other's buttons and engage in our little banter, with that wicked grin of yours, is something I've come to cherish."

"Our more questionable antics may raise eyebrows, but they've brought us closer in their own unique way."

"You've never judged me; you've accepted me, flaws and all. Your understanding means the world to me."

"Your confidence in me, even in my weakest moments, has made me view myself differently. You've helped me see my own strengths."

"Your support for my choices, and the knowledge that you're behind me every step of the way, gives me a sense of security I've never had before."

"When you feel safe in my arms, resting your head on my shoulder, it's an honor I never expected."

"When you fall into my arms, I feel like I'm home, like I'm safe."

"The feel of your lips on my skin sets my blood on fire, igniting something deep within my soul."

"Your submission to my touch, the soft cries of my name, they're more captivating than any siren's song."

"Your willingness to understand and meet my needs speaks of your devotion."

"Your joy for life and boundless enthusiasm, even in the mundane, infects me with your zest for living."

"We always manage to infuse a bit of chaos into the most ordinary moments, making them extraordinary."

"You see me as a person, not just a broken one. You helped me find the strength to break my chains, even when our methods don't always align."

"Our journey together is a thrilling dance of chaos and challenge, and I wouldn't trade this for anythibg else. I choose this dance with you."

Estelle's POV

"Our love is a turbulent clash, akin to fire and ice, forging a powerful connection that leaves a trail of smoldering emotions in its wake. I've come to know tranquility, faced heartache, and found the missing piece of my soul."

"The way you look at me with love in your eyes, even when I'm being ridiculous."

"The way you have accepted my scars, without judgment. You see me, the real me and not the twisted beast that torture has turned me into."

"The way we can argue but still come back to each other at the end of the day."

"In the way you enjoy life and all it has to offer."

"I love the chaotic laugh when you're bathed in blood."

"It's in the way you talk of our future, together. You see me at your side when speaking of your dreams."

"It's in the way you hold me in our embrace, making me feel safe."

"It's in the way that you try to hide your jealousy when another seems smitten with me, even if you're failing terribly."

"In the way you leave your mark upon my flesh for any and all to see- and your proud little grin at the fact."

"In the way your fingers trail across my back when we're alone."

"Its in the way you whisper my name. Saying it as a prayer."

"It's in the way you do everything to protect me. Woe to any of the foes who dare lay a hand against me."

"It's in the way we've discovered our own intimacy, reclaiming what had been taken from us."

"It's the way others sneer when they see us together, because they don't understand us."

"It's the way you leave, making me long for your return."

"It's your cheesy and poetic way of speaking."

"It's in the way you see me as your partner, your equal, your lover."

"Our love, perhaps not everyone's cup of tea, is a beautiful chaos. Untamed and unrestrained, passionately intense, and, most importantly, it's genuine and exclusively ours."

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #vampire #bg3 #astarion x oc #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #my tav #bg3 headcanons #headcanon #fanfiction #bg3 fic

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hello!!! Your writing is so beautiful and moving!! As an author, do you ever feel like the stuff you write is not good enough? Or your ideas have already been done 1,000 times? I can’t imagine you do, because your stories are pure gold. But if so, how do you move past it and keep writing?? Do you have trouble coming up with original content? I find when I’m writing fics that I sort of stop myself mid story with doubt. Hopefully I worded that correctly. I just admire your fics so much! Thank you!!!

Hey there 🩷✨️😘 And thank you so much for your kind words, I was honestly so, so moved by your message! I'll try my best to offer some advice and thoughts on this, hopefully some of it is helpful 💕

First of all, I sure struggle with this! I have days when I feel like deleting everything I've ever written because I think it's garbage. Those thoughts usually occur when I'm comparing myself to other writers and their work (which generally differs a lot in style, tone and voice, so it's kind of redundant to compare in the first place). Also, I'm not a native English speaker, so there will always be a gap I can't cross. I will always be one, two, three steps behind in expressing myself. Still, I haven't allowed it to stop me from writing and sharing my work. (Well I have, up until this year... But better late than never, right?)

That being said, we need each other for joy and inspiration, which also means that nothing we create is 100% original in the end… and at the same time, everything is original! You write in your own voice, and only you can have a new perspective or offer a unique take on an existing idea. But tropes are tropes for a reason; they're popular for a reason, so I wouldn't shy away from using cliche pairings or recurring tropes as key concepts. Besides, they're so much fun to write!

It's only natural to compare yourself and your fics to other writers and their work, but there's a thin line between getting inspired and feeling like you're not good enough as a writer. It's so easy to feel unworthy when you see loads of new, amazing content (= other people's souls and lifeblood, condensed into a brief flicker on top of our dashboards) every day. But when you start to think about it, there's actually no point in comparing yourself and your creative input to the stream of literally thousands of works.

Even if the idea is not the most original, I keep writing until something "original" pushes through. Sometimes it's a piece of dialogue, and that's when I get interested as an author. Why did the character say that? What do they mean? Why did I write this? What's lying underneath?

I don't know if you catch my drift here or if this sounds like nonsense, but when you get curious about your writing, it starts to gain new levels, you gain new ideas, and even the most "unoriginal" idea may get a fresh new twist. And if it doesn't… who cares 💃 If you write with passion, it shows, and I think that's what matters in the end! Plot holes, or lack of plot altogether, don't matter if you and your readers can indulge in your writing.

If and when I hit a wall, I have to check who I'm writing for. I may have a hidden feeling that I'm not good enough as a creator, or that readers expect this or that and the next thing I know, I'm standing in the middle of a desert when it comes to creativity. Writing to self-indulge (in the most filthiest way if you have to) will almost always fix this issue. It's a simple gospel truth that writing what you'd like to read, works.

I'm repeating myself here, but writing should be fun; the minute it's not, I usually stop and take a break. Professional writers probably say it can't always be fun, and they may have methods to work past that slump, but because this is fanfiction and we are doing this as a pastime hobby, I'd say better keep a light approach to it and cut yourself some slack. There's no need to push it or force it.

'Good enough' is an admirable (and understandable!) aspiration when you wish to be the best version of yourself and offer your readers something fresh and unique. I say the following with all the love: good enough is also the main idea behind a violent worldview where nothing is ever enough. It's the origin of self-doubt and the feeling that we're somehow always unworthy.

To a system that always wants more, and wants it better and faster, we as imperfect creatures and emotional human beings can never be enough. Didn't mean to get deep into environmental philosophy in a tumblr ask, but this worldview is currently destroying people's sanity (not to talk of destroying the planet and its myriad inhabitants). It's not easy, but I encourage everyone to rebel against 'good enough' as much as possible! ❤️‍🔥

So you don't have to strive for good enough, you only need to strive for what moves you, what makes you laugh or cry or simply makes you feel something. That way you'll know it will move others too 💋💞💃

#answered #writer stuff

[queen-scribbles]

Touch prompt: pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

Thanks for the excuse to write Tragen/Jaesa sparring fic, it was every bit as fun as I knew it would be. :3

---

Tragen had always appreciated Jaesa’s quiet tenacity. It made her a good Jedi, excellent back-up in a fight--and a formidable sparring partner.

Especially when she was intimately familiar with the weapon they were using. And he... was not.

“Keep both hands on the hilt for a firmer defense,” Jaesa chided, easily getting past his guard and giving his shoulder a light tap with the end of her quarterstaff.

Tragen nodded, blowing hair that had escaped his ponytail out of his eyes as he tightened his grip.

Her greater skill was the main point of this. After all, who better to instruct him in the use of a dualblade weapon than someone he knew was exceptionally good at it?

Jaesa cocked her head, studying him. “Let’s try something else--you attack, I’ll defend.”

“Are you certain?” Tragen let the quarterstaff dip toward the ground. “I don’t want to hurt you because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You know enough.” She laughed and spun her staff around her hand. “And I’ll be fine.”

The confidence gleaming in her eyes made him want to take a break from sparring entirely and kiss her. But he shook it off and did as she said, centering himself before he moved to attack.

She knocked aside the strikes he made with skill that warranted her confidence, the final one with enough strength to knock the staff from his hands.

“Your grip needs to be farther apart,” she said, watching him retrieve the staff. “If your hands are too close together you lose some grip strength with the angle.”

“Does it? I was following what I saw.” He nodded toward her grip on her own staff.

“Oh.” Jaesa laughed, gentle and not mocking, and jabbed the end of her staff in the sandy ground as a breeze ruffled her hair. “Everyone’s different, sort of. Your grip should be shoulder-width apart, to be the strongest.” She rested her hands over his and nudged them farther from each other, but lingered. “You’re bigger than I am, so yours will be wider.” She glanced up, tucking the loose hair behind his ear. “Didn’t they teach the basics of all styles during your training? For versatility if nothing else?”

Tragen shook his head. “You focused on what you were good at, to master it. I’d had some fencing lessons before.. on Stenos, so I started with a single blade. One of my instructors noticed I was equally comfortable with it in either hand and suggested using a blade in each, and that’s where the focus of my training stayed.”

“Well, I’m happy to teach you now.”  Jaesa smiled and pushed up to kiss his cheek. “Especially since it lets me have you to myself for a couple hours. Let’s try again; you attack and I’ll defend, then shift into offense so you can practice blocking more.”

“A sound plan.” She was just about on to him. He watched as she retrieved her quarterstaff and assumed a defensive stance, waiting for her nod before he closed in. The wider grip did help keep hold as she deflected his attacks. He ducked under a parrying strike and landed a hit just above her elbow. A flare of approval echoed across their Bond, making him grin.

Jaesa blocked a couple more times after Tragen’s hit before she shifted to offense, as promised.

Years of training and combat reflexes had him wanting to cross twin blades to block. He grit his teeth and gripped the quarterstaff tighter to fight through the instinct, giving ground as he blocked Jaesa’s first couple blows.

Caught in the flow of combat, he let go with one hand to make a strike. Jaesa’s dodged to the side, then took advantage of his lopsided guard to land hits on both ribs and knee on the unprotected side.

The second hit caught the back of his leg and swept him off his feet, staff bouncing away as he landed on his back.

Two-handed grip, Tragen remonstrated himself with a groan, dragging one hand down his face. When he looked up, Jaesa was standing over him. Her staff hovered playfully a few centimetres from the side of his neck.

“You’re getting there,” she said, tone bright and a teasing glint in her eyes.

He sighed and propped himself on his elbows. “It’s muscle memory; my hands keep wanting to move independently, not in sync.”

“Which is an option with a dualblade, once you’re better acquainted with it,” Jaesa said, calling his staff to hand with the Force and holding it loosely alongside hers. “One hand on the ‘saber hilt, one free for balance or Force attacks. You just need more practice first. To get more comfortable with it, have a feel for the balance and how to bring it back in for quick defense without cutting your own hand off.”

Tragen nodded. “I’m more than happy to put in the effort. And time.” 

She shot him a keen look. “Speaking of time, it does make me wonder, with how busy the Alliance is, why you chose now to learn a new combat style.”

He shrugged, trying to look innocent, sensing she didn’t buy it. “We’re always busy.“ That part was true. “And with you joining after Ossus, it seemed a good time to expand my horizons, add more options for when I fight. I’ve always admired your skill.” 

“Mm-hm.” Jaesa let the staves fall and knelt straddling his hips. “You do know you have several other people in the Alliance who could have taught you at any point, including now, just as easily as I can. They’d likely be even better at it, if they have teaching experience.”

“Yes.” Tragen chuckled as he swooped her hair back behind her ear with his index finger. “But I don’t want an excuse to spend time with any of them.”

Jaesa giggled, mischievous look in her eye even as her ears went pink. It was a very distracting look. “Then I guess it’s a shame you’re such a good student,” she murmured, only just getting the words out before he kissed her.

His hand cupped the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair, and her arms settled around his neck.

“I could always... suffer a setback,” Tragen mumbled when they parted, thoughts awhirl and definitely not on training.

Jaesa shook her head with a small laugh. “Everyone knows you’re a fast learner.”

He shifted to sit more upright. “Everyone has weaknesses,” he countered, stealing another kiss. “Perhaps this is mine.”

“Would you be referring to me or the dualblade?” she asked softly, playfully, as she kissed him back.

“What do you think?” he murmured, letting his fingers trail down the side of her face, thumb skimming her lower lip. 

Jaesa bit her lip in the wake of his touch, tracing his tattoo, his jaw. “I think you’re gonna need quite a few more lessons.”

“Such a shame,” Tragen drawled, fingers sliding into her hair as he let her kiss him again.

And again.

He had always admired her tenacity.

#queens fic #touch prompts #tragen xo'ric #jaesa willsaam #tragen/jaesa #swtor #swtor sith warrior #light side jaesa willsaam #otp: my north star #i love them your honor

[chichiricatsan]

Discouraging things I have had to unlearn and continue unlearning in my almost 33 years in this earth.

| You're not an artist, you only draw fan art. | Fan art is still art. It's a gateway into art itself, if anything. It can get you attention for your original works to be better sought out and recognized in your portfolio. And even if you never make original art, fan art is still art and deserves to be recognized, especially the time and effort artists put into it.

| You're not a writer, you only write fanfiction. | Fanfiction is still writing. It's still practicing the written word through the eyes of fictional characters you enjoy and relate to. It's even more than that. It's creating worlds or scenarios with those characters and places that may never exist otherwise. It's, again, a gateway into writing itself if anything and get you possible attention for original works.

| You're not an artist, you don't leave your comfort zone enough. | I do try to practice outside it, but admittedly I do have a comfort zone. Everyone does. But there's also a difference between a comfort zone and an art/writing style, and I tend not to show my practices OUTSIDE of that comfort zone and instead show a more finished product within my style that I've agonizingly tried to form over the past several years. Still working on it, even. It's a never-ending process. Perhaps that's what's considered a "comfort zone" nowadays. I don't know for sure. Still, to find comfort in my works along with growth seems like an integral goal worth pursuing in one's art, no?

| You're not a writer, you don't read enough or you only read fanfiction. | Reading is reading no matter what the medium is. It's keeping one's critical mind open that's key. Famous or not, well-done or mediocre, long works or short, comics or more visual works--whatever it is, there's value in reading. Yes, even fanfiction. I've read fanfiction better than a good number of bestsellers. Never talk shit about fanfiction lest ye be surprised and shooketh. And that's not even going into some of the debilitations that people can suffer that keep them from reading on a regular basis. Any reading is still reading and worth it.

| You're not an artist, you only draw cartoons. | All art is art. A toilet on display in a museum can and has been marked as art and even has a category it falls in called "dada art" that generated questions about the role of art and artists in society. Everything is art. YOU are art. A drop of life in a vast and interminable universe, possibly from a God or Gods or ever from the evolutionary processes of the universe, always changing, never finished. You are art. And cartoons, anime, animation in general is far FAR greater in potential than the perspective to which you're giving it credit. I could go on, but I will not, lest I be here for the next 84 years.

| You're not a writer, you don't post what you write for others to see. | Not everything needs to be seen by people for validation. This is one of the hardest pills I've had to swallow as I've suffered greatly with issues of my own for years needing external validation. I still do. It, too, is a neverending process. But some things, I feel, just don't need to be shared to be appreciated. It feels like how I feel about flowers in bouquets. They're so beautiful in those bouquets, crafted by artisans and carefully arranged to be a cacophony of beauty for the eyes. But the same is said about wildflower fields. They're not always there in the public, but they are there, and they are equally as beautiful even when you don't see them.

| You're not an artist, you don't practice enough. | This can be condensed to a sentence I've adhered to myself over the years: Your worth is not measured by your productivity. Practicing takes times, it takes energy, it takes motivation and inspiration. It's a mixture that never seems to fully align, but we push on regardless. We're still doing art, so we are artists, amateur or not.

| You're not a writer, what's the last great works you've ever read outside of schooling? | Studying the oldies when applicable is important, yes, but not the only thing worth studying. Certainly not. There are a lot of contemporary works that go above and beyond the call of worthy to read and study. Period.

| You're not an artist, you trace things!!?! | HAHAHA. Ahem, sorry. Surprise...? You'll find most artists do! Not to simply "copypasta" things, but to learn and retain muscle memory, for poses or pieces that are more complicated than they can fully feel comfortable making or just because they need it! Everyone has to start and learn somewhere, and tracing is helpful, for beginners or no, and I encourage and will continue to encourage it for artists of all kinds. Not saying to trace and sell/distribute a person's work 1-for-1, of course, but using 3d programs to model out things, using perspective grids, stock photos and photomanipulations and Frankenstein amalgamations of those photos can help create a better image the mind cannot. Sometimes,--hell, in my case it's most times--translating things from head to paper/computer is impossible and references and tracing is needed to get a satisfactory piece or product for a client. It's how and when to know to use your resources... without using AI programs nowadays as well *sigh*

| You're not a writer, you haven't officially published anything. | Have you? If so, congrats! That's a hard thing to achieve! A lot of people haven't, and even if they haven't, they still write and possibly publish with other means you may not know about. So, I'd say they're still a writer.

| You're not an artist, you haven't gone to school for X amount of years. | I cannot begin to argue how classist and bullshit this statement is. Even those who have gone into secondary schooling to do art has the potential to come out of it with similar/the same experiences to someone who learned on their own. More often than not, the difference will be that one will have a substantial amount more debt in their lives. It is amicable for one to pursue arts in secondary education, I'm not saying it isn't, but to judge someone's ability or character in the arts solely on this is a terrible thing to do, to say the least. I have a bachelor's in illustration and I'm never not learning more techniques or more from younger generations or just learning and appreciating art and artists. It's a learned skill that always needs to be sharpened like a knife or it becomes dulled, not something you pay for and suddenly learn everything about JUST with schooling.

#anyway i'm having a lot of feelings can you tell? #i'm just on my soapbox with my opinions and pep talks #mainly to myself...but i felt like i was in a sharing mood #writing #art

[nightmarevore]

hi! i'm getting into writing safe vore oneshots and i was inspired by a few of your works and reblogs. for years i was really discontent with my writing, but when i revisited some of your stories today, i noticed how similar your writing style is to mine, and the fact that people enjoy your content made me confident enough to complete a draft and plan a new story. i wanted to know if you make drafts and revise them? do you just publish the first draft? do you get help writing or editing them? 1☆

WAAAAAAAAAAAAH I;M SOBBING THIS WAS SUCH A NICE SERIES OF ASKS TO COME TO YOU'RE SO NICE TO MEEEEEEEE omg gomgo gomgomgomgklgkgfkjngfjbjdk i've never been complimented LIKE THIS or asked extensively for my process, this is new to me!!! you're wonderful and kind and i appreciate you.

i'm gonna have to make a readmore here as to not clutter up everyone's dashes to tell you my process/thoughts so HERE WE GO!!!!

i actually have only one fic i get edited and it's a non-vore fic, a very close friend of mine edits a fn.a f fanfic i'm writing based on w/illi.am a/f.to/n. i don't ask them to edit my vore stuff, but they do know i'm into vore. i actually write all my fics in a google doc!

i'll typically actually write as i go entirely. i have a rough idea of how i want the fic to go (who's in what, who does what, an event i need to happen, etc) and write along that rough guideline in my head. i write completely in order, or else i can't make it flow well together. sometimes i'll write what else may need to get done or else i may forget.

i'll consider things i decide to change as i go along "the first draft," since i went with something entirely different. for example, in one of my drafts for a wip fic, i chose to have luke, in the serial killer, panic and size-shift to half size and have the fic end with a half-size hurt/comfort vore from luke and rowan. instead, i changed it so luke is dazed but has time remain his current size and pull rowan out of his pred instincts taking over and have cuddles afterwards and vore when they got home, luke still the same size.

though adhd and autism get in the way at times—executive dysfunction is a bitch. a lot of things i have written, like a luke and rowan serial killer fic, as well a a fugue state william fic have been a WIP since February of this year—literally when i BROKE MY FOOT and was stuck in a reclining chair for a month. i keep telling myself i need to get to them, but then i see ffxiv and hanging out with friends and just decide that's a better way to spend my time at the moment. i've been in a huuuuge brain fog for a few months bc of this, the recent one shot i posted was actually made because i was speaking vore feelings i had with medli.

i definitely have an easier time writing when i'm specifically fixated on vore, luke and rowan, william, mike, etc.

i'll write when i'm hyperfixated, and my brain pushes me to write more when i'm at work rather than at home, because adhd classifies work as something i need a distraction from, and home as chill time. i'll write on my breaks or when i have a moment to myself to sit and hide.

i'll tell you right now, i get SOOO many ideas and have at least 10+ wips, including f./n/a,f, luke and rowan, and ffxiv characters.

when i write, i'm mostly writing from my heart. exactly what i'd expect to think, feel, and hear. i put myself into the perspective/mind of the characters i'm writing and can get deep into these fics as i write them. i get so interpersonally connected to my writing as i'm writing that i physically feel my character's emotions, and see them in my head exactly how they play out.

honestly, i'm not too sure about tips on how to get out of making yourself write when you don't feel like it. i've gotten frustrated with myself for staring at my documents for too long and not being able to write anything. i imagine the scenario in perfect detail, and then i'll sit down, stare at my work, and i'm like ....???????????????????

i'm actually trying to open up to my therapist about getting medicated so i can have an easier time writing/creating for you guys! hopefully soon.

i hope this kind of gives you some insight to my process, please go forth and create and never be afraid to share. <333

this ask means a lot to me!

#forage speaks

[sholiofic]

@cuppatealove asked:

I've been sort of wanting to ask you something similar, but I can't quite frame it. I've been devouring a lot of writing advice, because I'd like to grow as a writer, but get torn between the urge to streamline my writing, have good pacing, trim the fat and make the story really pull the reader along, and the fandom urge to shun the rules and shamelessly dwell on all the moments that conventional storytelling doesn't have time for! (1/2)

(2/2) I guess if I were to try and turn that into a question, it would be: do you find you can let yourself indulge with fic a little in taking a bit more time over things, or do you think the trained writer in you is always going to pace stories the way you (forgive me) "should"?

Oh, no, you can absolutely indulge!

I’m not going to say it’s always true that readers will like what you’ll like, or that nothing should ever be cut. But actually, the one thing that I think has made me a better writer than anything else is a thing fanfic has taught me, which is to lean wholeheartedly into whatever it is that I’m writing. If there’s an emotion, go for all the emotion; if there’s a setup that could lead to [fun thing happening], then write the fun thing.

Romance (what I mostly write outside of fanfic) is particularly good for this because readers absolutely *love* long scenes of characters interacting with each other. You can have them spend all the time in the world going for walks and shopping and making out. Non-romance readers might be bored, but who cares? They’re not who the book is for.

Now, analytically speaking, every scene should do *something*. But where I think a lot of classic writing advice is wrong is that it doesn’t have to be strictly related to the plot, or doing 10 different things at once to be valid. “Being fun” is a perfectly good reason for a scene to exist all on its own. So is “showing the character’s personal life” and “delivering more interaction between two characters who are fun to write together” or “revealing that this character is afraid of snakes.”

Now, if you want to go for a stripped-down, lean, “every word counts” writing style, that is perfectly fine and valid, and in some genres (e.g. thriller) or for writing some kinds of scenes (e.g. an action scene in a fanfic) it’s practically obligatory. And at some point in the writing or editing process you’ll ideally end up looking at your fiction analytically and deciding if you really need three scenes of the character shopping, or twelve different aunts, and deciding to eliminate or combine some.

But you know what? Sometimes you DO need all those shopping scenes, and all those aunts because the chaos of the protagonist’s home life is part of the fun. You can always eliminate something because it doesn’t work for the story you’re trying to tell, but you should never eliminate something you want to write because it goes against some axiomatic piece of writing advice.

My fanfic is indulgent to the max, and I have consciously tried to teach myself to bring some of that indulgent attitude to my original writing as well, because I feel that it makes it better. I do certainly look at other advice as well - I read tons of writing books and articles, it’s not like I’m just “welp, I already know everything there is to know about writing!” I learn new things and practice them all the time. But I assess each new piece of advice based on whether it works for me, keep what’s useful, and discard a lot of it because it doesn’t work for the kind of books I like to write.

Frankly, since I write romance and a lot of professional writing advice is actively antithetical to writing the sort of slow, lush, detail-rich books that romance readers like, I throw out a LOT of writing advice because it’s actively anti-useful for me.

So basically I would say, if you find that following a piece of writing advice feels like it’s making your writing better and tighter and stronger, then keep doing it; if it feels like it’s pushing you away from the stories you want to write, then ignore it. Absolutely no advice works for everybody all of the time, and absolutely no writing advice applies to every instance of writing even if it sound like it.

EDIT: Oh yeah, and you know what’s great about throwing in all the extra stuff? Sometimes four books later, or six chapters down the line in a chaptered WIP, you’ll realize that there’s an absolutely GREAT way that you can make use of an otherwise irrelevant scene that you put in earlier, and make yourself look smart and prepared. 😂 If you went and wrote that scene making a character afraid of snakes, and now you can put a snake in, then everyone will go “Ooooh, she’s so brilliant, look at that foreshadowing!” when actually it’s just that you saw an opportunity and already had the earlier scene written to allow you to jump on it.

#chat #writing

[courtanie]

how were you able to get into writing and did you ever struggle? i'm currently 20 years old and attempting to develop my skills, but it feels so infuriating knowing that i'm somewhat behind in comparison to other people my age. the comparison thing is a major roadblock - i read tons of media and whenever it's my turn to write, i look back on whatever i've written, read, then boil in envy. i don't know how to write well without making myself feel bad.

Well first off, take a deep breath and know that every writer has gone through exactly that and continues to do so. It's a game of never-ending improvement and backsliding and reusing any prose you come up with that you actually liked a teeny bit and honestly it's all just a mess.

But it can be a fun mess.

I started writing when I was 15 and it was literally just an outlet for my teenage rage at that point. Then trauma happened and it became a trauma outlet instead. But also I was just bubbling with ideas and no one wrote things that I wanted to read in particular so clearly I just had to do it myself. Which is literally what I still do. No one else is writing Kyle having a bad time in the exact way I like it so I gotta take the reins.

I know the rule of thumb is "never compare yourself!!!!" but literally no one heeds that. No one can. I compare myself to others, too (which is half the reason I stopped reading don't do that like I did srsly it's a bad idea). But like here's the thing: Do you want to get your stories out? That's literally all that matters. It doesn't matter how bad/good/mediocre it may be, you're writing for you. And you just have to accept that sometimes you're gonna write badly. I still do alllll the time. Sometimes my chapters are really poor because I'm slogging through them trying to get to the exciting parts that prompted the story idea in the first place. Sometimes I have to go back six years later and edit a large portion of a story because I want it going in a different direction or I just thought that what I had didn't hold up. I've deleted so many of my old stories, I've cringed and apologized to my audience and myself so many fucking times.

I shouldn't've.

Bad writing is still something that wasn't there before you brought it into the world. It's still creative and enthralling and a piece of you. Babe you're gonna cringe and you're gonna get angry with yourself and you're gonna get hung up on a sentence and not be able to look at that chapter again to work on it for a couple months because you're so frustrated and lost. But that's okay! It's the process. That whole "we're our own worst critic" adage holds a lot of water, but you have to embrace it and just keep pushing forward regardless. Write it and if you still don't like it, go back and rewrite the entire thing again with the first one open as comparison. You'll make wild changes and settle into it better, trust me.

And believe me, I've struggled and continue to do so. I am literally being roasted by my readers because "oh wow the annual update!" which. Is hilarious and true. I'm really struggling right now due to real life stuff and I've gone on several hiatuses in my 15 years writing. I am notorious about shittalking my style and my lack of creativity. I am wildly out of practice and it's showed lately so I'm back crawling my way up the hill trying to find my footing again and improve after my backslide. But that's what happens with any skill, if you don't use it, if you don't do your damn scales and arpeggios, you're gonna lose what you've gained. And it's disheartening, but it's a reason for you to just keep pushing forward and write the damn thing regardless of self-criticism.

There is always going to be someone better than you, that's how it works for all of us, especially in this subjective of a hobby. But that also means you're better than some people. And the wild thing is, no matter how 'bad' you think you are? You're gonna be someone's favorite author, I absolutely guarantee it. Some of what I considered to be my "worst" stories have had people coming and telling me they were their favorites, that they reread them every night and have their own special binder on their bookshelf. Just keep fucking going, dude. You're never gonna stop improving unless you stop altogether.

#buck up babe #remember that it's all for fun #writing is not life-or-death #do as i say not as i do

[m2kdj-waist-connoisseur]

One thing I love so much about orv is the writing style. SS has such a beautiful writing style that I get absorbed into orv whenever I open my kindle.

Orv doesn't have a single meaning, the scenes we interpret do not have a single interpretation and I love that. Different aspects have different interpretations and I believe that’s really beautiful for a book to have different interpretations and invoke thought.

Sometimes I’ll sit and think about a scene in orv and come up with my own interpretation, how it made me feel then open twitter and see someone with something different and it makes me think more. I read the thread wanting to know why they think like that? What did you see that I didn’t? And seeing different opinions (the good ones, not the hateful ones some assholes drop) make me really happy. Maybe it’s cause my brain can’t rest and refuses to stop at my interpretation but I have to say SS really made a piece of art!

Orv would make literature teachers cry cause it can be interpreted in so many ways (gone with ‘the curtain is blue as a symbol of sadness’).

Another good thing about Orv having such an open to interpretation style is that spoilers don’t pull me off. I haven’t finished it but can talk about it for a more than reasonable length (Apologies to my younger brother as I spent well over an hour explaining why kdj and yjh are life and death companions last week) because I’ve seen so many takes and opinions on twitter.

Hell twitter was the final push that made me pick it up (shoutout toapollo their jd sleeping beauty au led me down the orv rabbit hole). Seeing the ‘spoilers’ on twitter piqued my curiosity and made me search for a way to read orv and here I am on tumblr.

I wanted to know why are jd known as ‘life and death companions’? Why does 49% and 51% trigger people? Why is my tl filled with kdj’s 24 inch waist? (I believe his waist is AT MOST 26 inches) With so many whys, threads explaining shit after I liked ONE AU I picked it up for myself and I can say starting Orv is the best and worst thing I’ve ever done to myself.

I can confidently say orv is indeed the bane of my existence and the object of my desires (head in hands begging for an official English translation so I can buy it ) Orv didn’t pull me out of a reading slump, it put me in multiple but they’re the most pleasant slumps I’ve had cause I don’t want to finish reading it but I also can’t wait to finish it so I’ve decided to stall my suffering and take it at an extremely slow pace.

This feels like a diary rn

I feel like I’ve said a lot without really saying anything but meh so is life ig (damn Shakespeare got nothing on me)

I almost forgot!

The topic of interpretation comes from lsk encouraging kdj’s love for books! Lsk encouraged kdj to reread books when he’s done because there’s always more to it than what you saw in the first read. He could reread a book and focus on someone else’s pov and get an entirely new story from something so simple :) I’m not a fan of rereading books (I’ve tried and just can’t so it’s one of the reasons I stick to ebooks cause I don’t have to worry about getting rid of books I’ll no longer read ( ◠‿◠ ) )

Orv might have been about that one reader’s pov (sobs) but it sure made me think of things from others’ pov! It took being empathetic to another level and made me want to understand these characters and not just understand their love for that rat bastard {affectionate}.

I wanted to understand why these people kept going when it looked like all was lost. They’re living in an apocalypse for goodness sake and they’re still trying to survive??? I’d look for the quickest and least painful way to end it all cause I wouldn’t see a way out and even if I did see one who says I’d struggle to get it?? Do they keep moving just to survive? Why do they struggle when a peaceful death sounds appealing? (if it’s not obvious I’m a weak ass bitch and can’t imagine facing a scenario )

There’s something in them that makes them move even before they met kdj. Maybe it’s the fear of death? Maybe it’s hope? Maybe it’s the desire to live even when it seems impossible? Maybe it’s something I haven’t thought of?? Who knows?? (SS probably but this ain’t about them :) )

JD HAS DIFFERENT INTERPRETATIONS AS WELL

There are people that ship jd and see romantic intentions behind their actions (they’re married your honour) and there are people that have chosen to interpret these actions as outstanding companionship (history will say they were best friends) and that’s fine!

To my knowledge, SS hasn’t confirmed anything but best believe jd is married with biyoo as their daughter and living together with a nice house in the suburbs free from all scenarios and just enjoying domestic married life to me. Jd has caused so much commotion in the fandom that it’s funny. Like damn it’s not my fault I see two married men (life and death companions is a wedding vow???!) and other people see besto friendos ٩( ᐛ )و

*puts rose tinted shades on* all in all I need to hold kdj’s waist and will not know peace until then

Anyway! Let me stop here I need to eat something and if I keep brainstorming I’m gonna cry ϵ( 'Θ' )϶

#omniscient reader’s viewpoint #orv #kim dokja #the best and worst thing I’ve done is start orv #gone are the days of reading without analysing in google docs #yoo joonghyuk #I don’t just need to praise them I need to sit down and question Sing Shong myself!

[writebackatya]

Alright, I’ll go double here. E, H, R, and W for the fanfic writer ask.

All right, about time I answer this {cracks knuckles}

E. What character do you identify with most? Is there a certain fic of yours that captures these qualities particularly well?

Well, I guess I could easily answer Della, but I can also see a good case for Fenton, Gandra, and Dewey. Both Fenton and Gandra are characters around my age so it makes me very easy to relate to them in their struggles to get recognized for their own work and to have the world see them for who they are. Also I'm mixed race and I kinda headcanon both Fenton and Gandra as mixed race. (I mean come on, Crackshell is such a white name. You know, cause eggshells are white. sometimes.). As for Dewey, a lot of his characteristics remind me who I was as a kid and bit of who I am now. Also I'm a middle child so that's another thing we have in common.

But back to Della, I think like most Della fans I love the fact that Della isn't perfect but that's why we love rooting for her and seeing her succeed in the end

Like her brother, she has bad luck but it's a bit different from his. It can affect others around her often unintentionally. Some times Della can cross a line without even realizing it, even if her intentions are good

She has a lot of pride in herself and in the people she loves. She's so damn supportive of her family and is always amazed with their own talents and abilities that they have. Della is just one of those characters that sees the awesomeness in herself and others

I guess a story of mine that I found myself identifying with Della the most would be The Three Caballeros (and Della)!, a pre-canon story where both Della and Donald are young adults who steal borrow their uncle's plane while he and Duckworth are gone for the week so that they along with José and Panchito can have awesome Spring Break in Mexico. Even though this story so far only has one chapter for it, I have a feeling that I'm going to mainly relate to Della in this story

Both Della and Donald are at a point in their lives where things are changing for them. They each have a path they want to take and hoping the other will go along with them. Della is contempt with the adventure life she has with her uncle and brother and wants to keep that going; while Donald is trying to break away from that life and create something for himself

I think both Della's and Donald's wants are both sympathetic (at least that's why I'm trying to convey) and the two do have an understanding of one another but don't fully get it. Both Della and Donald are not ready to have that conversation about their future out of fear hurting the other. They both want each other to have what they want, but they also don't want to compromise what they want their own future to be

I grew up with a lot of siblings and saying goodbye to people who are not only family but in a way, close friends is something I always found difficult to do

Also Della makes the best puns in the show so I always make sure to give her the best puns in my stories. Also she's bisexual cause I'm bi and I say so.

H. How would you describe your writing style?

A friend from work once told me that my sense of humor was like someone's little brother who just discovered the internet, and honestly if I showed her my fanfics I'm sure her opinion on my sense of humor wouldn't change.

Overall my writing does lean towards the comedic side sorta playing off whatever character the story is focused on. To me the characters are always the most important part of the story. I noticed that a lot of my stories focused on the character's traits, their relationship with others, and how they're similar and different towards the characters they interact with in their stories. I absolutely love drawing parallels between characters, I often do that with actions, repeated dialogue, etc. I guess another common thing in my writing is back-and-forth dialogue, it's often used to push the story forward whether it be about the characters at hand or the plot itself.

I try to make my descriptions in my stories fun and exciting. I'm guilty of throwing in puns and alliteration in there, occasionally unintentionally, when that happens I usually keep it because I'm a sucker for puns and alliteration.

And while things in my stories can occasionally go to a dark place whether it be humorous or serious, I don't look at my works as mean-spirited or cynical; in the end our heroes grow and the bad guys get their much deserved comeuppance.

R. Which writers (fanfic or otherwise) do you consider the biggest influence on you and your writing?

In terms of fanfic, I'd say Korkorali and tsundereanubis and their fanfic Closets and Moons, and How They're Alike is what motivated to start writing. I love their work and I still think it's really cool that tsundereanubis beta reads my stuff and always gives me good feedback

And even though I have not read those books in ages, I would say Lemony Snicket and his A Series of Unfortunate Events books had a big effect on me. Along with the stories and the characters, I always looked forward to his narration for the story. His voice was very dry and really really funny. Heck I remember reading one of those books late at night and the scene I was reading was Klaus reading late at night, exhausted. Mr. Snicket thought it would be funny to repeat the same lines over and over again when he wanted to make it clear to the reader that Klaus was so tired he found himself reading the same lines over and over again. And it was funny! I too was tired but thata did not stop me from giggling

An author who recently got their influence on me is the late and great Sir Terry Pratchett, the author of the Discworld series. I started reading him back when the pandemic started and instantly fell in love with his writing style and humor. Just the way he can describe his world, the characters, they way they speak, act, etc is both very descriptive and very funny. I'm slowly making my through the series and have loved every book by him so far, he's someone I wish I got into sooner

Lastly, I would say Mel Brooks and his movies had a big influence on me. Now it could be answering this because I recently finished his autobiography All About Me! (which I highly recommend reading if you're a fan of his works) but I've been a fan of him since I was in grade school and my mom and dad rented Spaceballs from BlockBuster for me cause a few classmates told me about knowing I was a Star Wars fan. (Side note: something I noticed is that people my age's first Mel Brooks movie they've watched is either Spaceballs or Robin Hood: Men in Tights, just thought that was worth brining up)

Anyway, I love Mel Brooks movies. Besides their humor, his movies are often great stories on their own filled with memorable characters, beautiful music, fun musical numbers, and a lot of heart. Something I think that gets ignored when people talk about his movies is the heart they have (it's always "WoW pEoPlE tOdAy ArE sO sEnSiTiVe! YoU cOuLd NeVeR mAkE a MoViE lIkE tHiS!!). Sure Blazing Saddles is parodying the Western genre, but it's also a brilliant satire attacking racism with some touching moments. The scene where Bart reunites with his brother always tugs at my heartstrings. Or even if you think about Spaceballs. The whole movie is a Star Wars parodying poking fun of different sci-fi movies and tropes let the love story between Lone Star Princess Vespa is probably the only element that is played straight albeit with some jokes getting in the mix

W. What is your favorite pairing to write? Favorite pairing to read?

I guess currently my answer would be Fendra, which I never would have guessed when I started writing. After I was done writing Ground Control to Della Duck! (as well as Legalize It! but that legit took me less than a day to write and was posted the same time as the other story) I wanted the next story in Indi-Quack! to not feature any of the McDucks or Ducks so I went with the story idea I had where Fenton accidentally gets high because of Gandra. And I was quick to realize that I really loved writing for Fenton and Gandra, both as a couple and as individuals

They both just compliment each other really well. I just love how bubbly and optimistic Fenton is while Gandra is more dry and cynical. But most importantly, they're really supportive of each other's works and see the potential the other has better than everyone else. I just love having them work together whether it be something science related or adventure related. They also have qualities that can make them be the "sane one" when it comes to comedic situations so I like alternating between the two on who is less crazy than the other. I also love implying that Gandra tops Fenton because hell yeah she does!

But I would be lying if I said I don't love showing my love for Weblena whenever I have the chance. I've only written one story that is a Weblena story, but in every story that features the two there is always some sorta of dialogue between the two that is 100% meant to be taken as "Yeah, these two are SOOOOO in love with one another." (My personal favorite is when Webby referred to Lena as "My Beautiful Goddess" when Lena was dressed up as Selene for Dewey and Webby's Spear of Selene movie). I do plan on writing a Weblena story for Indi-Quack!, it'll be the next story in that series so hopefully we'll see more of this wonderful couple in more of my stories

As for reading, I will just say Della and her two moon buddies. I love reading Dellene and Dellumbra stories. I just wanna see the duck be happy, and both Selene and Penumbra are great for Della. You know what, she deserves to end up with both. They'd make a lovely throuple

Currently I am working on a WIP that'll have Della with her two moon buddies, but they're not the main focus of the story. One story I have on the backburner is about Della going back on the dating scene and it'll go over the many ships I've seen Della shipped with, but its been awhile since I last touched it, but I haven't forgotten about it. So yeah, maybe someday I will actually be able to tell a story about the couple I like. Of course Legalize It! was a Dellene a story, but that was super short and the whole thing was leading to one punchline

#ask prompt answer #ducktales fanfiction #writebackatya #tokuvivor #della duck #fendra #fanfiction writer #fanfic writing #writing #indi-quack! #the three caballeros (and Della)! #the iron duck of steel the gizmoduck movie part i

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 2/14/2023

Welp, the great "don't force myself to write when I don't wanna" experiment is over. I got real heckin' depressed and it was bad, so I started making myself write again, and it lifted. Perhaps it's a coincidence, I don't know, but this sort of holds with how the last four years of my life have been going. Trying to scrape dregs out of an empty jar isn't exactly fun, but it's what I gotta do, I guess.

Anyway, the good news is that I'm not being too mean to myself. I stole @bleachbleachbleach 's method of requiring myself to write one sentence on my WIP every day. I've managed to make it every day. One of the main things that happened (and this sort of thing always happens when I set goals) is that I realized that if I did only one sentence a day, it would take me forever to finish, which has pushed me to do more than the minimum. For the first few days of the week, I was doing about 100 words a day, which is still very paltry, but I think I've done more than that the last few days.

The thing I am working on is a story I started in 2019, which I have always been very fond of, except that it's a mess. The first paragraph is in a difference POV than the rest of it. It's mostly written in the present tense, except where it's not. Most importantly, it just sort of stops where I ran out of ideas. It's possible this was not the best possible project for me to dive into in my current mental state. I've been working on it, but I feel like it keeps getting worse 😂. Like, I re-wrote that first bit, and I just don't like it as much. Also, even though I know I should never, ever, never ever write in the present tense...I... think it works better that way? I'm seriously considering switching it back?? Also, it is primarily a world-building story, and as soon as I started on it, I realized that there were a bunch of holes in my world-building and it's been so hard to make any kind of decisions about anything. (I spent a week trying to figure out if this one guy has a wife or not. It seems like a thing I should just be able to decide except that it's also sort of the entire crux of the story)

At least I didn't have to start from nothing. The original story was about 2900 words, and my intuition is that the final product is going to end up between 5 and 10k. This is a great size for a story, the easiest size of story to write, and I'm honestly just mad that I'm so bad at all of this, and I'm worried that at the end of the day, the thing is gonna suck because I've lost my touch. Anyway, right now, it's 1768. It's nowhere near what I know I'm capable of when I'm on (when I'm really fucking on), but I'm faking it 'cause I have to, and it's going okay, I guess.

I don't know what's up with my art, either! I just don't really have any ideas I'm excited about! I did a tutorial this week with some pastel brushes, and then I turned around and did a Valentine's Day art project with the same brushes. I feel like it's probably a good time to do some skillbuilding, but, man, skillbuilding kinda sucks. 😂

The one good thing that did happen this week is that I finally made a decent loaf of sourdough! Look at these guys!!

They were so springy and good in the middle and nice and crusty on the outside! The secret turned out to be a combination of getting my starter more active generally, and actually following an every-six-hour feeding schedule the day before I baked it (the last feeding was ten hours because it was overnight and I had to get my kid off to school in the morning) It was 100% naturally leavened (no commercial yeast at all). I followed this King Arthur recipe.

The discard recipe of the week was Little Spoon Farm Blueberry Muffins, which were every bit as good as the recipe promised, if you like sweet, cakey, grocery-store style muffins. Little Spoon Farm is becoming my go-to for discard recipes, they haven't missed yet.

#writing update #art update #burnout update