#<- new tag for these blog-only snippets

[kalosian-woods]

I know I already sent one but. The Bonds of Mega Evolution. The flower arranging scene but from Serena’s perspective. I beg of you. Her thoughts on being praised over Ash and Korrina who are everything she admires. Mabel’s analyses. I have so many thoughts -W-

(ps I had to do this one because my mind would not let go even through my busy day, but dw i'm still filling out the other asks + extra dw because i love this one and i can go for maybe 1 more extras from others as well if yall want... might just take a while lol but i'd rather pace myself with these and build up my writing rather than rush)

The flowerfields of Pomice Mountain were so incredibly pretty it was almost unreal in its ethereality, like a delicate watercolour painting set up in the most protected portion of Lumiose Museum and protected from human hands.

Serena looked behind her, noting the… very long distance that they made on their own legs. Well, that she made on two legs, considering how Fennekin was still a little finnicky about tracking mud sometimes. Letting the fox down, she crouched on the tip of her toes and smiled as she watched her partner frolic in the flowers. “I'm glad you like it, Fennekin!”

Coming up here was a good choice. No doubt that the likes of Ash and Korrina would travel far, but not even they would come all the way up here for a few flowers. And if Serena really wanted to impress Mabel, she had to make sure that her bouquet was as unique as can be!

Fennekin yipped at her after coming back from her moment of exploration, tail wagging happily. A small giggle came out of Serena’s mouth then as she picked out a few petals that stuck to the Pokemon’s ear. “Found something you like?”

“Fenne!” It didn’t hurt that she had Fennekin by her side. That fox was a master at ordering things, and Serena started to defer most organising details (that are doable by Pokemon) to her fuzzy little friend. It was fun and nice and such a big help to have Fennekin go through the Pokepuff ingredients, especially now as there were more tastes to account for (and more bellies to fill); just as much as there was the need to track down lost clothing blown off the clothing line or what flowers to use for their flower crowns. Fennekin started to trot forward, mouth split in a wide and toothy grin as she rounded the small hill with Serena at her heels.

Serena kept pace, letting her gaze rove over the magnificent landscape. She couldn’t believe all of her friends would want to leave this place as soon as possible: it was almost an insult to the natural beauty blooming all around them. Sure, they were here to help Korrina and Lucario master Mega Evolution, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t relax and have some fun on the way.

Nothing was a waste of time, including now.

And breathing in the fresh mountain air, Serena couldn’t imagine it to be any other way.

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·. 

There was a certain type of aura that can be sensed when it comes to ikebana.

With the bright and showy demonstrations, Mabel can already see the youth that shone brightly in all of her new wards—even the scientific young lad had that spark of childishness that was separate to what his Chespin had. Moving across the room, she shook her head; it didn’t matter if they nailed the technique for flower-arranging as it was.

Even though she was expecting Gurkinn’s granddaughter Mabel had opened her door to all of Korrina’s friends, and so, she would judge them all equally.

“Haha, d’you like it? I tried my best with Pikachu, but then a Ursaring came outta nowhere and started chasing me for picking some of—”

Ash was a spirited fellow, for certain. Some may say that danger followed him, as she had heard from the group’s late-night talks, but Mable thought differently. Was it relevant to his bond with his partner Pokemon? If it were Pikachu, certainly not—their joint work showed a sort of oiled-quickness to their every move, every kink that was possible ironed out for the most part. But still… there was a certain kind of disconnect between the pair: the tall and towering flowers alongside the more bushier and stout ones were telling in their own way. Ash longed for height, for growth, for greatness beyond everything he’s ever known. Pikachu wants the same, but there was some distance between that primal urge that were bared with every cut-up petal and splintered wood. She internally filed those observations and moved forward, coming to face a very vibrant display by a very familiar face doing a very unfamiliar pose: bowing.

“How do you like our work now, madame?”

Mabel chuckled once, using her cane to nudge up Korrina’s chin. There was no need for her to flatten her pride now, not without cause. Appraising the work, she can see some improvement this time—at least the plants used weren’t from two completely different fields this time. She gave a surreptitious look towards Lucario, who let out a surprised bark before turning away, and Mabel grinned. Of course, youth rarely liked to be challenged, and this young lady was still desperately scrabbling for some approval. The Lucario too. It’s clear that there is much work to be done in regard to the two of them, but at least they are moving a little closer to the true intent of the activity here, and that’s what counts for today. Refocusing lens takes time, after all.

“I’m so sorry, I was working on the Little Flower Arranger 2.55—”

“Why’s it called that?”

“Ash, let him finish!”

Mabel sighed good-naturedly as she looked around Clemont’s waist to the creation that he made alongside Chespin while the rambling flowed on above her. Normally, she would expect a Grass-Type to know their plants, but she was sorely mistaken when the other day Chespin had contracted a rash from sleeping on some poison ivy. Clemont seemed to balance out his Pokemon well with his worried nature, but they have yet to learn how to cater to both without leaving one side wanting, which could be expected if one knew of his adolescent Gym Leader status and focused Typing. Today seemed to be more of a Clemont-day, with the machine’s smoking remains blowing up a small portion of flowers and leaving the ground smoky and charred. At least he had some extras on hand to fill up the empty space—she can appreciate readiness whenever it appears, in all of its forms.

“Hey, look, Dedenne! It’s our turn now!”

Bonnie may be too young to be a Trainer yet, but she held some very interesting insights alongside the Pokemon of her choice. Their bouquets always held the most changes and variation, with some surprises being found around whenever they came back with their flowers. Yesterday was a freshly plucked Budew that they played around with while waiting for her to come around. Today seemed to be the pebbles that they arranged in a smiley face on top of the soil, with both of them mirroring the face. It was a very charming attempt, and if the group wasn’t on a quest for Korrina’s sake, Mabel might’ve indulged in her own desire to work with her as it was. The difference between this young girl and her brother was as clear as night and day, and yet, there were always the one clue (straight stalks this time). Patting the child’s head, she moved onto the final stop.

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·. 

Serena held her breath next to Fennekin, heart pattering in her chest as she held her hands in front of her. It was her turn to present their work of art, and bearing her and Fennekin’s heart to someone so critical… it was a lot different than just running around in the fields and doing whatever they wanted.

It felt like being on a stage.

Terrifying… and yet, exhilarating as well.

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·. 

As usual, a bright smattering of gold and crimson in her work. Serena was different to the others, as she didn’t strive for big or showy or even imitations of famous works from long ago. Her creations always were related to something around her—the rainy sky yesterday, the Pokemon battle on the first day the group came, and today, it seemed to be based on Fennekin itself. It’s clear that the Pokemon approved of it with the bite marks on some of the stems, but there were signs of a human hand plucking some of the flowers as well. While both Pokemon and person shared similarities, there was a focus with the delegation of each task—finding the flower, placing it, arranging it. It was unique. It was the product of them, with the skills they both displayed.

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·. 

“Wonderful and in sync,” Mabel murmured, too quiet for anyone but the two of them to hear.

Serena’s breath caught, and her right hand slowly rested on her chest as Fennekin shot a triumphant look towards Chespin’s dour face.

With two claps of her hand, Mabel called out, “Good work as always, everyone! See you all tomorrow!” and it was all Serena could do to stop herself from jumping up with a shout.

The first time she actually got praise, before Korrina or even Ash. It felt… thrilling, to know that she can surpass them in this way. In her own way.

Grabbing Fennekin, she quickly made her way out of the doors before she shared a conspiratorial giggle with her partner.

[rallazart]

Ah fine I'll post somethin. Experimenting with designs and shit is all I'm doin. Nothin new.

(Not posting the colored in versions yet. These are only concept sketches. Keep that in mind)...

The digital "version" of ^this^ is just some lazy color blocking I did. (Pay no mind to the weird light effects); But it does add a little clarity to the original sketch that might be helpful. Note: the values will change to some degree later.

Full body type idea ^here^. The tail is fan shaped from proper perspective.

The basic blocks of his design include an array of different animal features i.e. plucked feathers and skin, goat horns and eyes, coyote skull and body, and lizard scales. Idk if anyone was curious though;

if anyone asks for more detail in the design inspirations and lore I might share it. I just don't really feel the need to post every part of my process yk (especially if I'm not 100% happy with it)

[enbeemagical]

tagged by @curls-cat

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips

uhhh. WIPs (parentheses means I have comments on it XD not part of the title, to be clear)

Shadow and Light (wowwww no one saw that one coming /sarcasm)

Interludes (S&L related)

The Afterlife (also S&L related)

Moondark (eyyy not S&L. haven't touched it in ages tho)

Angel of Music (also haven't touched in ages, title needs an update)

AtM: Faerun

Blurred (also needs a title update)

@alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice @odd-dragon @shiniestcrow @indigo--montoya @dyrewrites @seastarblue aaaaand @that-disabled-princess

[corkinavoid]

| welcome to my blog |

You can find my full-written works on ao3 under the name corkinavoid or click this link.

| tags |

#cork prompts is for all my ideas, prompts, ficlets, big and small

#cork adds is for my additions to someone else's posts, usually including reblogs

#cork writes is for everything concerning my writing, rants, tips, and all things relevant

#cork writes fantasy is a tag specifically for my DPxDC fic 'Fiance to a Star', updates, lore drops, moodboards, and soundtracks

#cork writes mafia is a tag specifically for my DPxDC work 'Crime Scene Do Not Cross', updates, backstories, additional snippets, moodboards, and memes

#cork likes is for reblogs, mostly any pretty art I find

#cork art is for anything I draw, which is rather rare

#cork memes is for shitposting, mostly about my own works

#cork game is for a writing game I play that you can participate in here.

You can use all of my prompts how you see fit as long as you link/tag/credit me.

Other than that, here's some fun facts about me:

• neurodivergent but not a minor

• English is not my first language

• my favorite ships are Dead Tired and Anger Management, and I'm also deeply in love with Al Ghul Twins trope

| masterpost |

I'm only linking my series here, not all prompts.

| DPxDC |

Changeling AU: [part 1], [part 2], [part 3], [part 4], [part 5], [a fic "Danny! Wait, who's Danny?"], [part 6], [part 7]

Haunted Family AU: [part 1], [a fic "It takes three days to get adopted"], [a fic "A cat walks by herself, but so does a ghost"], [a fic "A new family, an old family, and a never ever happening family walk into a gala"], [part 5]

Mercenary Danny AU: [part 1], [a fic "I'll pay you ten times"], [a fic "I want to hire you"], [a fic "I'm asking you out"]

Multiverse Police/Good!GIW: [part 1], [part 2], [side notes], [part 3], [another part 1], [another part 2]

Fantasy Magic School AU: [part 1], [a fic 'Fiance to a Star']

Fantasy Royal Fae AU: [part 1], [a fic 'Married to Winter']

Masters Mansion/Socialite Danny: [inspo], [part 1], [part 2], [part 3], [a fic 'Coronation'], [a fic 'There Are No Living Here']

John Constantine's Ghost Kids: [part 1], [part 2]

All the al Ghul Twins related posts: [one], [two], [three], [four], [five], [six], [seven], [eight]

Ring of Engage: [part 1], [part 2], [part 3], [part 4], [notes]

Hogwarts AU: [part 1], [part 2], [part 3], [part 4], [part 5], [part 6], [part 7], [part 8], [part 9], [part 10]

Ignorance: [part 1], [part 2]

Welcoming Party: [part 1], [part 2]

[princecharmingwinks]

Thank you for tag, lovely @noyzinerd !! The snippet you provided on your post was brilliant! I have a few little fics on the go but this one is probably the closest to finished. Not named yet but it is a 5+1 Sterek where Stiles working at a bookstore slowly meets different members of Derek's pack who know Stiles is the perfect match for Derek.

It was a quiet Tuesday afternoon at Alpha Books, Stiles the only staff on while the bosses were away on their 2 year anniversary trip. He was happily humming along to the radio, reshelving when the bell jingled announcing a new customer. 

Stiles popped his head out of the aisle and smiled, “Welcome to Alpha Books, can I help you find anything today?” The new customer was a girl, maybe a few years younger than him and small in stature but her whole presence radiated Tough, with a capital T.

“What do you get your older idiot brother to distract him from the ridiculousness of his life?”

Stiles tried not to grin at the exasperated tone but it must not have worked because the girl’s eyebrows crinkled into a judgemental frown.

“Sorry,” He offered in apology before completely stepping out of the aisle. “What does your brother like to read?”

She huffed out an annoyed sound but Stiles wasn’t completely convinced it was aimed at him. “I have no bloody clue. How do you work out someone’s tastes?”

“Well, what’s he like? Maybe we can work it out together?” Stiles was getting excited now, he loved a good book hunt.

She nodded, taking a moment to think. “He’s one of those crazy morning people who actually enjoys jogging before 7am. But it also means he’s in bed like an old grandma by sundown. He doesn’t like anything too horror-y or gore-y. I guess maybe some kind of adventure series?”

Stiles lit up with excitement, this brother sounded like he may enjoy one of Stiles’ personal favourite series. “Has he ever read the Bean and Pennywise series?”

The girl frowned again, “Been what?”

Stiles held up his hand and ducked down another aisle, returning in a flurry with the first book in the series in hand. He offered it to the girl and gave her time to inspect both front and back covers, including the blurb.

“This Bean guy sounds just like his type.” She gave a small smile and Stiles had a feeling it was a rare sight he was beholding. 

He also had to fight against the blush that was probably forming when he realised he was about to admit that he related way too much to Bean. This girl was super pretty, if not also intimidating, and Stiles was sure her brother would be too. And based on her description, her brother sounded like someone Stiles would swoon over. Stating he was like the lead character in the novel who was apparently her brother's type was way too forward. 

“Awesome! I’ll ring it up for you.” Stiles took the book back and headed over to the counter, slipping the store’s bookmark that doubled as marketing for his blog inside the front cover.

Hope you liked this snippet! Tagging some mutuals since I'm not sure who has been writing lately or not. No pressure of course :) @fairytales-and-folklore @breakingjen @elisela @haletostilinski

[supernovanetwork]

10 Tips for New Stray Kids Fanfic Writers

Do you ever sit there staring at your Stray Kids draft and think:

“Is this even good?” “What if no one reads it?” “How the heck do I post fics on Tumblr anyway??”

But the truth is—everyone starts somewhere, and Tumblr’s full of people who do want to read what you’re writing (yes, even that fluff fic where Chan is your barista).

This guide is for you—the new fic writer, the quiet reader finally ready to post, the person overthinking everything.

Tip 1: Set up your space

You don’t need a fancy theme or 10k followers. But having a cozy blog setup helps people find and follow your work.

Pick a username you like (bonus if it hints at SKZ or writing).

In your bio, mention your fics, SKZ biases, and any ships or genres you focus on.

Pin a post!!! Link your intro, a masterlist, or a WIP schedule—your call. The most important thing is that this stays ORGANIZED. If people cannot find your fics , they wont be able to read them.

Tip 2: Use tags like your fic depends on it (because it does)

Tags = Tumblr SEO. The first 20 matter most.

Here’s how to tag smart:

Fandom: #stray kids, #skz, #stray kids fanfic

Member: #han jisung, #bang chan, etc.

Ship (if any): #hyunlix, #minchan, etc.

Genre/tropes: #fluff, #angst, #hurt comfort, #roommates au

Format: #oneshot, #smau, #drabble, #fic series

This helps the right readers find your stuff!

🛑 Important: Don’t tag members, ships, or tropes that aren’t in your fic just for reach. That’s called false tagging, and it breaks trust with readers. Someone clicking #seungmin isn’t expecting a Jeongin x reader fic with zero Seungmin content 😅

Keep your tags accurate and relevant—it builds a loyal reader base way faster than overtagging ever will.

Tip 3: Use the “Read More” feature

If your fic is more than a few paragraphs, add a Read More break (the little scissors ✂️ in the editor). It keeps dashboards clean and your post looking tidy.

Bonus: You can add a fun header, a quote, or tags before the cut to hook readers in!

Tip 4: Make a Masterlist (even if you only have 1 fic)

It’s your fic menu! This is where people will go to read your work. Be proud of it!! List your stories by member, ship, or type. Add emojis for ✨aesthetic✨. Update it as you go.

Even if you’ve only posted once—put it on there. You’re a writer now. 🫶

Tip 5: Engage with other SKZ fic writers

Tumblr isn’t a one-way street. You’ll build a reader base faster (and have more fun!) if you:

Reblog others’ fics and leave comments on their work.

Answer asks. Send asks.

Join writing events or tag games.

Hype up your mutuals!!

The stray kids community is super supportive—don’t be shy.

Tip 6: Use content warnings + proper tags

Keep your readers safe and informed by tagging:

Sensitive themes: #tw abuse, #death, #mental health

NSFW: Always tag it clearly, and don’t forget the 18+ warning

Major spoilers: if it’s plot heavy, give a heads up

It’s respectful and helps build trust.

Tip 7 : Reminder: Notes ≠ Worth

Got 7 notes on your fic? That’s seven whole people who took the time to read your words. That’s a small group reading circle. Intimate. Intentional. Beautiful.

20 notes? That’s a classroom full of people listening to the story you created.

100 notes? You just filled a conference room. Imagine standing at the front, reading your fic out loud to everyone in that space.

500+ notes? That’s a theater audience. All eyes on you. Applauding your imagination.

No matter the number, your story reached someone. That matters.

✨ Some fics blow up overnight. Some quietly change someone’s whole day. Both are real impact.

Write because you love it. Write because it’s in you. Write for the one person who needed that exact scene, line, or character—and found it in your words.

Tip 8 : Make your blog feel you

Tumblr loves writers who:

Share WIP snippets or headcanons

Post silly tag games

Talk about writing struggles (we all relate)

Make moodboards or fic memes

People connect with your words and your personality. Let that shine.

Tip 9: Start small—and keep it fun

You don’t need to drop a 10k word masterpiece your first time out. Write a drabble. A blurb. A tiny scene that makes you smile.

Low-pressure writing builds consistency and helps you find your voice. The best part? Those small fics often get the most love because they’re easy to read and reblog.

Tip 10: Reblog. Your. Own. Fic.

Tumblr moves fast. Your post can get buried in hours. So reblog it! More than once. With:

A different teaser line

A fun tag (like #if you like pain, read this)

A “thank you” or “I can’t believe I wrote this” moment

It’s not annoying. It’s smart. People are in different time zones and scroll at different hours. Let your fic breathe.

If you don’t hype yourself up, who will?

Did this help you?

Or maybe you have some tips that helped you as a new writer?

Feel free to leave them in the comments — we’d love to hear from you!

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 4

chapter 3 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 5

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

a/n: hiya! i already mentioned all of this in my snippet post, but i'll do so again. in this chapter we are going down some dark path. probably not wise considering how shit has been going down as of late in the pedro pascal fandom. i have tried to write this chapter as sensibly as i could given the circumstances reader is in. i know this is a sensitive topic so please, PLEASE, read the warnings before you go ahead. i promise i'll make it up to you guys in the next chapter. other than that, i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! i love engaging with you guys. take care of yourselves <3

warnings: MDNI, 18+. please proceed with caution. if any of the following warnings trigger you, skip this chapter. DARK THEME. r4pe threats (it doesn’t happen, but still). death threats. mention of voyeurism. unsolicited dirty talk. slapping. reader is humiliated. derogatory terms (bitch, whore). swear words. masturbation (m to himself). body shaming (well deserved though). blood. violence. gore bc joel loses his shit. murder (but it’s okay because i say so). soft!caring!joel. pet name (dove). reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n.  joel's and reader's pov.

w/c: ~2.3k.

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

Joel groaned, face down on the ground. His head hurt like hell, to the point where he could not even open his eyes. A drilling pain on the back of his skull pierced through the whole way to the space between his eyebrows. He squeezed his eyes, in an attempt to clear his sight, before opening them. The whole world spun around him like a merry-go-round ― he felt like throwing up.

He motioned his hand backwards to where the searing pain was coming from, only to find a new source of aching ― his right shoulder felt like it was dislocated, but the reality was that he had been shot.

I have been shot, he repeated in his mind.

Why though? He couldn’t remember what had happened nor where he was.

“Joel! What the fuck is going on?!”, Tommy’s voice forced him to close his eyes again. He kneeled beside Joel, putting pressure on his shoulder. “Where is she?”

Where is who? he wanted to reply.

And then it hit him. You both gave in to your passion, and he ruined it by labelling it “a mistake”. And then hell broke loose ― his last memory was your screams before you were dragged away.

Consciousness flooded back into him. Joel sat up quickly ― too quickly as his head pulsed in excruciating pain.

“Easy, Joel”, said the younger Miller, removing his hand to inspect the wound and tying a piece of clothing around the shoulder to contain the bleeding. “The bullet has gone through cleanly. You’re going to need to take care of that wound but should heal just fine”.

“They’ve taken her, Tommy”, Joel managed to mutter.

Doom washed over him. He felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought of what your destiny might be. He should have paid attention; he should have known you both were being watched. But at that moment in time he was thinking with his cock, not with his brain. He put you in harm’s way. He knew he shouldn’t have exposed you like that. He would not have done it had he known someone was spying on you both.

His last words to you basically meant that you were a mistake he regretted. His heart contracted so hard at the realisation of what he had said, his lungs evacuated all air within them. Where those going to really be his last words to you?

Joel gulped down the knot in his throat. He truly was a damned man. Everyone he touched, died. His deceased wife, Sarah, now potentially you too.

Death might be her best way out, that intrusive thought scared the shit out of him. He shook his head at the idea, in denial.

“Who have?”, Tommy asked. Joel could hear fear in his brother’s voice, mirroring his own.

Joel stood up with the help of Tommy and touched the back of his skull, finding the sore spot. It was wet ― blood covered the palm of his hand, which he cleaned on his jeans.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. If something happens to her, I swear to fucking God, Tommy, I will―”.

Tommy nodded in understanding and handed Joel the rifle and his jacket.

You were finding very hard to come back to consciousness. Your thoughts were a tangled mess, not being able to connect them in a way that made sense. You felt like you had been sleeping for ages, but it had only been five minutes. Your heart was beating slowly on your chest, your breaths shallow.

You heard two male voices nearby. For a second, you thought they were Joel and Tommy. But even in your semi-conscious state, you knew it wasn’t them. You managed to open one eye, looking around. Memories started to crawl back ― you and Joel fucking like the world was ending, him being a prick once again, then the gunshot, Joel falling to the ground, two men approaching and taking you away. Your heart began to race.

Was he alive? He had to be. He couldn’t have died. You would know, you would feel it in your guts. You felt like your chest was being crushed. No, he can’t be.

“God, I am gonna come”, you spotted the first man you saw, the one who shot Joel, jerking off besides you.

Had you been fully conscious, you would have retched when he cleaned the cum off his hand on your T-shirt.

“She was fucking that guy like a whore, she won’t mind if we use her for a bit”, said the second man. “I bet her cunt is still fucking wet. But we should wait for the others to get here first”.

You were slowly coming back to your senses, starting to understand the gravity of your situation. By the way they talked, it was pretty clear what their plans for you were. The prospect of being raped awakened your fight-or-flight instinct, your brain racing with thoughts, trying to come up with an escape plan. Either you fled, or you died trying.

You were sat up, your back against a tree, your hands loosely tied up in front of you. You rubbed one hand against the other, the right one slowly coming off the knot.

“I want to fuck her mouth so bad ― I don’t think that lucky bastard did”, you were not sure who said it, but you didn’t care.

“With such a small dick, I bet you I still would have plenty of room in my mouth to be able to talk unbothered”, you couldn’t stop the snarky remark.

The first man didn’t take your comment very graciously, probably ashamed of such a small dick. He slapped you with such force, the ring on his finger slashed the skin on your right cheek. You fell to the ground on your belly, your hands becoming free in the process, which you hid under your body so that monkey of a man wouldn’t notice.

“We’ll see how much you laugh after we’re finished with you and leave your broken body somewhere for your boyfriend to see”, he threatened with a laugh, touching himself again. "Open up, bitch".

He grabbed you by your hair, forcing you to face him, his ridiculously tiny dick too close to your mouth. You pulled away from him with all your might, releasing yourself from his grasp.

Although you put on a mask and pretended this was not affecting you, you were so fucking frightened. Your survival instinct kicked in again when the same ape tried to snatch you by the T-shirt as you slithered away, partially ripping it. You turned around quickly and scratched his face ― your nails sinking in his skin as deep as you could. You thought you hit his eye ― and you wished him blind. You growled like a cornered animal when the second man approached you, while the first one was on his knees wailing like a newborn baby.

“So you’re a fighter, huh?”, he chuckled.

When he got close, you knocked him off his feet by swinging one of your legs sideways under him. That was your chance ― and you took it. You got up and started running, the second man shouting blasphemies while going after you.

You had only run like five yards when a gunshot echoed in the middle of the night. You ducked and tripped, falling to the ground.

You looked back and saw that guy face down on the dirt, not moving. The back of his head was blown to pieces, half of it had disintegrated into thin air. Blood and brain bits had started to soak the leaves under him.

Then you saw Joel a few feet back, rifle on hand, Tommy just a few metres behind him.

You sighed with relief.

Joel had one look at the state of you and wished he hadn’t shot that man. He should have suffered a more terrible death. He felt anger ―no, fury― burning up his insides. Joel was seeing red, not being able to tame his feelings back under control. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins with solace ―you were alive― but also with rage.

“Man, we’re sorry, I’m sorry, it’s not what it looks like, I had nothing to do with this”, begged the man who had shot him ten minutes earlier.

Joel slowly turned around to face him. The asshole was on his knees, his left eye bleeding profusely, trousers pulled down and his micropenis dangling out of his underwear. With his eyes fixated on the poor excuse of a man praying on the ground, Joel handed the rifle to Tommy and unsheathed the folding hunting knife he kept in his boot.

“No, please, I promise you I didn’t touch her, I would never―”, his pleading fell on deaf ears.

“You fucking liar”, Joel said under his breath, positioning himself behind the kneeled man.

Joel grabbed him by his hair, pulling his head backwards to expose his neck. He could see tears on the edges of his eyes. He was young, probably around twenty, but Joel didn’t give a fuck. He deserved to die. Joel unfolded the hunting knife by removing the safeguard, placed it under his chin and slit his throat slowly but steadily. The man gagged, desperately trying to fill his lungs with oxygen ― his hands had flown to his neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but blood was pouring out like a fountain.

Joel looked at him dead in the eye until the man’s arms fell to his sides. When he was sure that motherfucker was dead, he let go of the head, the body making a thudding sound when it hit the floor.

Only then he dared to look in your direction. He wasn’t ready to see you down on your knees, dry tears on your cheeks. You looked like a baby deer in the middle of the road at night, blinded by the headlights. One side of your T-shirt was ripped from top to bottom, one of your breasts showing. You were not moving, your big eyes widened in shock.

Joel did not want to imagine what had happened to you, but he saw semen on your T-shirt and his brain started wandering off to the darkest of places. He was frozen in place for a few seconds before finally approaching you slowly, afraid you were going to step back away from him. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. He put away the knife before kneeling in front of you ― his hands, palms down, up in the air.

“Are you…?”, he didn’t finish the question because it was obvious you were not okay.

“It’s okay”, you answered immediately.

Joel gave you a puzzled look.

“No, it’s not fucking okay”, he whispered.

Then reality dawned on you. Your body had been on high alert this whole time, your instincts forcing you to put your feelings away so you could focus on the task at hand ― escaping as unscathed as possible. It wasn’t until those men were dead and Joel faced you, that you allowed emotions to take over you.

Your eyes welled up, your entire body shaking as the adrenaline abandoned your system.

“I… I don’t… It’s just…”, you couldn’t form coherent sentences.

Joel closed the distance between you two and hugged you. You buried your face in his chest and sobbed silently for minutes on end. His left hand stroked your hair as he held you and whispered calming words in your ear. When your eyes dried up, you looked up at him through damp eyelashes and he swept away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, the rest of his fingers gently placed on your jawline.

“Your cheek”, Joel’s lips wrinkled as he hovered his thumb over the wound.

You could tell he was trying to control himself, but as the seconds went on, he got calmer.

“Can I?”, he muttered, looking down to your teared T-shirt.

You nodded and he helped you take it off. Joel blocked Tommy’s vision with his broad body while he removed his jacket and helped you put it on, discarding your dirty T-shirt to one side.

“They didn’t…”, you tried to explain, your bottom lip trembling.

“We don’t need to talk about it now, only when you’re ready ― if you’re ever ready”, he spoke softly.

You greatly appreciated he didn’t push you for an explanation of what had happened. You were not sure you could talk about it without breaking down again. You breathed in deeply and nodded again. Then you noticed the blood on his shoulder. You raised one hand, softly touching the improvised dressing.

“You’re hurt, Joel”, you mumbled.

“It’s nothing, it’s not even painful. Let’s go back to the cave. You need to rest and I need to clean that wound on your cheek before it gets infected”, said Joel while helping you up.

You saw Tommy in the distance ― he had been kind enough to give you some privacy. Joel guided you through the trees, his left arm firmly wrapped around your waist to aid you in your walking.

You didn’t get too far though, not even with his help. Your legs were so wobbly you were afraid you couldn’t stand any longer. Joel saw you struggling and with no hesitation whatsoever, he picked you up in his arms to carry you to the cave.

"You're gonna hurt your shoulder even more, Joel", you complained.

"Nonsense", he whispered, softly kissing your forehead.

You did not protest after that again and hugged his neck, your face hiding in the curve of his neck.

In his arms, you felt safe. Your haven on this twisted, revolting earth.

“One of the men said they were waiting on more people to arrive”, you remembered suddenly.

Joel briefly looked down at you. You could tell he was controlling his face expression.

“Don’t worry about it, dove. I’ll take care of each one of them”.

That was a promise he kept religiously.

[roomwithanopenfire]

Stats Sunday

(no banner today bc my laptop sometimes does this weird thing where it won't let me upload files and i don't feel like restarting it rn)

Hi! Thanks to @brilla-brilla-estrellita for the tag!

April has been a weird month for writing, but sharing my graphs and stuff is always fun for me (and hopefully you) even though I didn't work on like ANY of my preexisiting wips last month. As always, this post is long, expect stats, graphs, and musings under the cut. (No snippets today tho)

I posted zero fics in April which is understandable given that I have been SO busy lately with school and stuff.

Total words written for April: 22725 (this is the most words i've written in any month this year so far....)

Days I met my writing goal (200 words): 11

Days I didn't write or edit anything: 18 (this month has def been the worst month in terms of consistency bahaha)

Day I wrote the most: Apr 18th with 5957 words (this is the highest daily word count of the year, very abnormal for me, i went insane for a couple of days)

Number of Fics worked on: 1 fic plus one scrapped idea (LITERALLY ONLY 1 FIC AND IT'S NOT ANY OF MY WIPS)

Daily Average: 757 words (but this is a lie, most days i wrote 0 words lol. check out my graph)

I feel like this does not showcase enough how insane i felt on the 18th. Check out this quick graph i made of my daily WC for the whole year...

the spike is insaneee. Let's see my not-very-exciting pie graph i've created and see what i've been working on

No familar wips here. not either of the COBBs that I should be finishing (last years and this years 😭), or the COSW fic that I promise i'll finish eventually, but just 1000 words of a scrapped project and like 20k+ worth of a shiny new idea. The document is titled GET OUT OF MY HEAD because I was just going to write the scenes that were stuck in my head, but, like, it's still in my head and is getting more and more complex and complicated, but i haven't been writing it as much the past few days and i miss the writing demon that was inside of me, come back. channel more words through me please. let me write 6k in a day again, i miss you.

And this fic is not even for a fandom i've written for before, this is uncharted territory. i'm sure that just by glancing at my blog you can guess which new fandom this is for loll. we'll see how far i get on this wip. i've been writing scenes out of order as they come to me, but now i'm losing some steam so i have to decide if i actually want to put the work into making this something. And I think I do. Despite orginally writting it to get it out of my head, it is still very much in there. Taking up space.

And some life update news, the month of April has been pretty good to me. I got a year older, finally figured out my summer job, and i am getting an A in all my classes (at least, most likely. I still have one final left that I could bomb, but it's open-note so i'm not too worried). I have one week left at school, and then I'm home for the summer. (Which I have a whole ton of mixed feelings about. I love being home, but I also feel so much more me when I'm at school. But I'm excited to be making money again omggg.) also just yesterday the girl i have a crush on asked me out so eeeeee. very exciting

tags and hellos

@alexalexinii @aristocratic-otter @argumentativeantitheticalg @artsyunderstudy @arthurkko

@blackberrysummerblog @best--dress @bookishbroadwayandblind @bookish-bogwitch @the-beard-of-edward-teach

@cccloudsss @confused-bi-queer @cutestkilla @drowninginships @facewithoutheart

@emeryhall @fiend-for-culture @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife

@theimpossibledemon @jyae23 @larkral @lovelyladzzzz @lovelettersto-mars

@m1ndwinder @monbons @nausikaaa @noblecorgi @orange-peony

@prettygoododds @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @run-for-chamo-miles @rbkzz

@shrekgogurt @simonscones @skeedelvee @supercutedinosaurs @sweetronancer

@talentpiper11 @thewholelemon @valeffelees @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe 

please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged in just stats with no writing. or if you'd rather not be tagged at all. no hard feelings if you'd rather not get the notif <3

[suzukiblu]

I kind of want to try your method of posting wips a snippet at a time while writing them, but on the other hand I am nervous about it. Can you give me some advice?

I've been trying to nail down the mixed feelings, and this is what I've got so far:

for:

it will get eyes on my fics faster, and I can show off what I've written sooner, instead of needing to finish a whole chapter

it will encourage engagement both in reacting to specific posts and in asking for more

it will be more chances for people to be intrigued and want to read the whole fic

against:

what if I do it and nobody cares?

til now I've been releasing fics a chapter at a time and it would feel weird to change that. inertia and all

what do I do if/when I change something I've written and already posted a snippet of?

it feels weird to post them on my writing blog, which currently only holds finished chapters (and fanart), but if I post them on my main, I feel like they'll get lost and/or I'll miss reactions in my busy activity channel. Where should I post it to? Should I make yet another sideblog?

in direct response to your listed mixed feelings, in my personal experience of writing this way:

for:

it will get eyes on my fics faster, and I can show off what I've written sooner, instead of needing to finish a whole chapter: yes it will, and it feels great! and personally it also helps me keep momentum and helps soften the sting if I drop a fic/chapter later and people don't have much to say about it. I KNOW it's good, other people already told me they liked it!! no, I'm not gonna throw out the whole story because of one mediocre reception, SHUT UP IMPOSTER SYNDROME AND GET BACK IN THE WRITING TRENCHES.

it will encourage engagement both in reacting to specific posts and in asking for more: yes it does, and WAY more people consistently (and more gratifyingly!) engage with me since I've made a habit of posting this way, especially when they're especially interested in a specific WIP over my other ones, and a lot of people just seem to be more engaged and invested in my writing in general. or at least more willing to tell me that they are, if nothing else, haha.

it will be more chances for people to be intrigued and want to read the whole fic: yes it will, and if you post larger scenes and tag them, then more people are likelier to find you/your writing than would if you only post one chapter in the tags however often you update those. also, if you have a fic-specific WIP tag that you link to, it's very easy for people who are just discovering the WIP to go back and catch up all at once ( or for people who aren't into it to blacklist, if that's a concern, as opposed to them feeling like they have to unfollow/block you ).

against:

what if I do it and nobody cares? good news: they probably won't care! at least to start. that's just kinda how it is, to start. I get a lot of engagement because I am REAL prolific and do my best to be responsive, plus I've been updating this blog and in this specific fandom pretty consistently for over a year, and also have also been in online fandom spaces on and off for, like, legit twenty-five years at this point. so I am just very used to being in these spaces, and I also have readers who've followed me for a decade+ or even since I was an actual literal TEENAGER in at least a couple cases, so like, they're already kinda invested in my writing, haha. there are people following this blog who not only read my Inu-Yasha Miroku/Sesshoumaru fanfic back in the day in the Pit of Voles but also still REMEMBER reading my Inu-Yasha Miroku/Sesshoumaru fanfic back in the day in the Pit of Voles, to say nothing of everyone who found me through AtLA or the MCU or the Witcher ( or so, so much Star Wars meta, the Star Wars meta has also definitely been a thing ). also I update my blog pretty consistently and I do writing memes that reward the people who play with me with new content and more progress in their fave WIPs, and also they're technically "voting" for what they wanna see more of, so that also adds to them feeling engaged/invested and me feeling motivated/energized, because they feel like they've affected the growth and progress of the story ( which they have ) and I feel like they're enjoying the story and genuinely appreciate it ( which they do! ). so everyone wins!

til now I've been releasing fics a chapter at a time and it would feel weird to change that. inertia and all: yeah that is the sunk-cost fallacy trying to fuck you up and you can and should tell it to fuck off. if you try it and you don't like the change, you can just stop doing it. you're free! no one can stop you!! hit the bricks, do your thing, the past is gone and it is NOT in charge of your ass! your ass is all yours!! whatever, we do what we want! I am in fact giving you explicit PERMISSION to do what you want.

what do I do if/when I change something I've written and already posted a snippet of?: then you've changed something! if it's a major change, you can repost the updated scene or mention you're making a change in a separate post or just say there's been a significant change when you post the chapter and therefore people who've already read the WIP posts might wanna reread it, but personally I change and tweak and fiddle with stuff I've already posted all the time. usually it's just bits of phrasing or formatting or adding in little details to round stuff out or correct mistakes, or to clarify things that confused people or that I forgot about, but sometimes it's adding multiple paragraphs or even additional little scenes. it's absolutely a thing I do and a thing that I consider fair play. you're literally posting "work-in-progress" excerpts, it is in the NAME that stuff might/will change or be adjusted. shit, if you feel like it, throw the whole story out and start over with a 2.0 WIP tag!! art is meant to be fucked with!!!!

it feels weird to post them on my writing blog, which currently only holds finished chapters (and fanart), but if I post them on my main, I feel like they'll get lost and/or I'll miss reactions in my busy activity channel. Where should I post it to? Should I make yet another sideblog?: the past is gone! you are free!! it's a writing blog that is for your writing and you can write whatever you want on it. the rules are made up and the points don't matter!! if you want a WIP blog too, you can totally start a WIP blog too, but you also don't have to feel obligated to bloat your sideblog collection or to have to go to all the effort of building up a brand-new following for a brand-new blog when there's already people who followed another blog of yours specifically for your writing. it's your writing blog. it's for your writing. write on it how you please!! if you're SUPER-concerned about the change, include a specific tag on all your WIP snippets that people can just blacklist if they only wanna see your full finished updates. for example I use "rintalk" so people can skip my random talky posts/asks if they wanna but also won't accidentally be filtering out anything they DO wanna see from anyone else on their dash; they can specifically avoid just mine. so like, maybe "octo WIPs" or "nb WIPs" or just whatever you're into would work for you, or just something like that.

unrelated to your for/against: posting stuff like this is not an approach that'll give everyone the same results or even WORK for everyone, obviously, but it works for me because again, I'm prolific, responsive, tend to follow my readers' interests, and have been doing this a lonnnggggg time and have built up an audience both from past fandoms and in specifically DC fandom. and also I'm super, super ADHD. definitely also because of the ADHD. there is . . . there is just so much ADHD lol.

but yeah, like, I'm pretty sure I've been updating pretty consistently for the past . . . what, year or so of DC-hyperfixation? something like that?? I've also published over 300k to AO3 in that time and GOD knows how much more word count I've put up on Tumblr, so like . . . tl;dr, I absolutely think you should give it a try and see if it works for you/if you like it, I just also wanna include the caveat that you shouldn't be discouraged if you don't get an immediate return on or big response to said try. like, I dunno what your followers are like or how much they talk to you, obvi, but I personally had to kind of . . . cultivate, basically? I had to cultivate the communication and the back-and-forth, it didn't just happen immediately. we have cultivated, all of us here, hahaha.

for actual practical excerpt-posting advice, generally speaking, the best start I've found for starting out with posting a WIP as you write it is to take, like, the starting scene of the fic/chapter up until either a narratively-interesting/satisfying end point ( or better yet, a cliffhanger ) and post that as a WIP excerpt in the relevant tags. then you're likelier to introduce the story to new people and bring them by your blog to see more, and they'll come in both primed for and LOOKING for WIP excerpts. then, you know, you can post subsequent scenes or bits in chronological order, ideally. personally when I do WIP Wednesday or anything like that, I don't tag little posts like those in the main tags, just with a WIP tag specific to their story ( which, like, obvi you know I have those, haha, I know you've been around MORE than long enough and even if you hadn't pretty sure I already mentioned them somewhere up there anyway, I'm just being thorough ), but anything that's pushing 400-500 words or longer gets fully tagged with ships/characters/fandom/etc and gets chrono/non-chrono links included in the post and then sent out into the world as my lil' story ambassador, haha. just, you know, use a cut or at least a "long post" tag if it's much longer than that, because like, Tumblr manners and all, hah.

ummmmm . . . so yeah idk how much of that was helpful for you, obviously, but if you have follow-up questions or anything, feel free to hit me up, I'm always down for those and I'll do my best to answer!

[lorelune]

scrap metal

|| blade x reader || M || captive reader x necrobiome blade || wc: 2.5k  || ao3 || -> continued here

Elio sends a new script. A scrap trades hands.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: blade fic blade fic blade fic!!! this is a snippet of a larger au... stray reader and blade (and sometimes kafka too. bc. woof.) mind the tags as always <3 enjoy!!

CW: dark content, captive/pet reader, reader is implied to be a used for sex, violence, minor character death, reader wears a muzzle, descriptions of injury, beginnings yan blade

"Bladie," Kafka says, singsong. "Elio has a new script for us. Looks like we're picking up a stray." 

Blade, who has been inspecting his sword for the past three hours, looks up but does not say anything in reply. He wipes the metal, broken and refused, over with a cloth soaked in oil.  

Another script, another script, another script. Kafka will tell his thoughts to be quiet and he'll follow the script.  

He runs the cloth over the metal. Again 

"What do you mean by stray?" Silver Wolf pops her hip. She's already dressed up in what must be world-appropriate clothing— robes and tassels, sashes tied tightly around her waist  

"You'll see when we meet them." Kafka pats her head, then turns her attention to Blade. "Listen, we'll be leaving within the hour. There's a parcel with your clothing. Don't be late, dearest. I think you'll like this one." 

Blade is sure he won't care either way. A mission is a mission, a script is a script. Regardless, Kafka's words soothe the ever-itching beast in his mind, and he concedes to her gentle command. He hardly inspects the package and its contents before stripping (to which Silver Wolf runs off after gagging), though Kafka remains in the room to watch, amused. She eyes the scars on his body shamelessly as she always does. 

Blade does not care either way. 

... 

You are the stray. 

Blade first sees you, during what would most appropriately be called a 'business transaction', or at least a meeting made under the guise of being one. Kafka has him carry on a silver briefcase as they enter the stuffy, metal room their host had reserved for them. The air curls with tobacco smoke. 

Kafka settles in a plush chair. She dresses finely, regally, even. The long swathes of fabric stretch over her curves and breasts are fine, soft to the touch and smell of the sticky sweet incense that the denizens of the Aiel Lasha binary system covet. Blade is dressed similarly, posed at her back. He does not care how he is dressed. 

He has read the script, up to a point. Just before leaving their home vessel, Kafka darkened the screen of his phone and forbade him from reading to its end. She told him, with a wink, "Listen, just follow my lead, okay?" She sealed her request with a kiss on his cheek, which he bore. He follows her order without question. 

The man they sit across from has you at his feet, kneeling on the gilded, bronzy flooring. (It must be hot.) There's a metal muzzle over your mouth, with slits only cut under the curve of your nose to breathe. It looks cruel but well-crafted. The metal gleams like itas been recently polished. (It must be very hot.) Your eyes are dulled, trained to the floor as the man pets you. 

"The Stellaron Hunters," he whistles and folds two of his hands together. One of the others from his lower set of arms reaches out to pet your hair. Perhaps not petting, more like tugging. Manicured nails dig roughly into your scalp. Blade can see the way you almost wince, almost rise to react, but settle in yourself. “I must say, I’m not entirely looking forward to this meeting. I’m well aware of what you lot tend to bring in your wake.” 

Kafka tilts her head, ever-confident, "Then, thank you for meeting today." 

“How could I not? Your offer is simply too lucrative not to entertain, though you must know that. You know how too...” 

The conversation drones on. The man is laying it on thick with Kafka. Silver Wolf, per the script, needs thirty-two minutes and forty-seven seconds to take down the solar system’s crypto-economic framework. Something about obliterating this planet's economic viability, disrupting in-galaxy trade, and crippling the two-star system for the next several millennia. "baby stuff", Silver Wolf had said, before taking a quantum ferry down to the planet's surface. 

Blade only half-listens to the current exchange, and counts the seconds before this excruciating ordeal can be done with.  

The man pets you more and more aggressively as Kafka swerves his advances. Whatever faux ‘deal’ she cooked up was being superseded by the man’s obvious lust. Kafka is used to such things, even if it's foolish.  

The man takes his frustration out on you. He yanks your hair and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your shoulders shake. 

(Something twinges, deep in his chest. Something that should be dead, but can't die.) 

"How about this," Kafka lays a hand on Blade's lower back, almost startling him. "You give me that little scrap you've got by your knee, and we'll call it even. Everybody wins, hm?" 

The man's eyes widen, before he leans back, belting out a laugh and dragging you to him. He winds your hair around his fist, and pulls your body up, over his lap. Your scramble to straddle him. Eyes dead. Lost. Almost vacant. 

The man grabs your cheeks in between one palm and squeezes over the metal of your muzzle. The others grope your waist, slipping under your gossamer sheer robes. They're hardly clothes at all, Blade realizes. Just sheets of thin, hardly-there fabric. He can see the shadow of your body underneath. Blade itches in his skin. 

"I'm afraid I can't accommodate that request, kind Kafka. This 'scrap' gave me such... trouble," your eyes scrunch, and the muzzle shifts over your mouth. "When I first acquired them. Training them was a hardship, but they're my most obedient thing now. I can't let my hard work go, just for a business deal, can I? You must understand." 

His eyes shift to Blade, regarding him fully for the first time since they entered. 

It’s not the first time he’s been regarded as something lesser and subservient. Hardly. It does not bother him. Not usually. And yet, he jolts and almost summons Shard Sword, but Kafka stops him with an arm, extended at his waist. 

"My companion is not trained, nor does he need to be. He’s a lovely tool, but he has his own two feet." Kafka says. "You really only speak in insults, don't you?" 

The man goes red in the face, and the arms around you constrict. You clearly try to steel yourself. You are trained. Poor thing. But there's only so much you can take.  

The man’s form changes... bursts, seemingly in anger. He is almost melting, half-corporeal as his hold on you becomes tighter. Like a lasso drawn too snuggly over your tummy. 

There's an audibly sickening snap (nothing Blade isn't familiar with, yet why—?), and your eyes blow wide. Alight. Awake. You shove against the man but sink into his oozing flesh. Your muzzle shifts over your face, panic in your eyes. 

The man roars something in a tongue Blade doesn't know and a wet looking... hand, more than likely, slaps across your cheek. He grips over your muzzle, liquid flesh clogging the air slits in the muzzle. 

Blade begins his count. 

"What a tantrum." Kafka sighs, stands, and stretches. "I thought you really liked that 'thing', yet you treat them so roughly." 

Thirty-two minutes and ten seconds 

"They like to struggle, I assure you. I made sure they do." the man says. Blade doubts that. "Besides, I do not need your judgments. I heard you were a wretched woman. I know of your calamities." 

Thirty-two minutes and twenty-two seconds. 

"And yet, you invited me all the way down to your planet for a silly deal you don't have the currency or sway to accept. Pretty bold move." 

Thirty-two minutes and thirty-five seconds. 

The man sputters, something like an excuse, who knows or cares. you struggle in his arms, a few more snaps of bone. Your shoulder may be dislocated. Blade could pop it back into place easily.  

Thirty-two minutes and forty-five seconds. 

The last thing Blade had been able to read on the script was the crashing of the ion grid after Silver Wolf's hack. Everything else from there is in Kafka's hands. Things are clearly going to plan as an alarm begins to blare, screens and projections go alight in the room. Disaster, disaster, disaster. Destruction and all. 

The man shoots them a look, enraged, and the dripping lump of his hand wraps around your throat.  

(The thing in Blade writhes. Violence does not phase him. It shouldn’t. It hasn’t been in a long... long time, right? He remembers— maybe?) 

Kafka draws her weapon and shoots the man in between the eyes. Or what's left of them. Blood and electricity shoot from the wound, spattering over your face.  

You flinch with it and shriek. You scramble away from his body once it melts to the ground in a puddle. You paw at the muzzle, trying to clear the clogged air slits. Kafka, however, is faster and more efficient. She's kneeling by your side in moments, brushing away remnants of a dead man from the muzzle. Blade follows at her heels. 

"Oh dear," she coos, soft and easy. "Let's get this off of you, hm?" 

You shake your head and push at Kafka. You do not know her. This is logical. 

Who is this stray? Blade only thinks to ask that now, but keeps his mouth shut as Kafka cows you enough to let her touch you. There's the whirring of sirens just outside. 

"Bladie, dearest, a hand please?" Kafka urges him and taps the clasp of the muzzle. A platinum lock keeps it flush to your face. more than flush, really. Painfully tight. 

Blade takes the lock in between two (shaking, arthritic ) fingers and crushes the mechanism. He pulls it off you a moment later—  gently— 

(When was the last time he was gentle?) 

Kafka unsticks it from your cheeks, and you let out a gasping breath now that your mouth is free. There are indentations across your jaw, cuts, and wounds all over you, now that Blade looks closely. 

Kafka does, too. She traces an angry-looking scar over your clavicle as you leer away, lip wobbling, "Oh, Bladie, look. You match. How cute." 

You try to say something, but your voice is nothing but a wisp of sound. Your throat must be so dry. Or maybe your voice is unused? Probably both, now that he thinks of it. You look to be in horrible shape— neglected. A stray. 

(Something in him screams. His consciousness is too fragmented and corrupted to trace the origin, other than that it is recessed. A dormant urge, yawning awake at the sight of a scared little thing. Yingxing— Blade— does not care to know. He knows the heat of a forge and the way flesh melts around molten metal and the swift flourish of a blade. He does not know the feeling growing in his chest like a lush rot. Birthed maggots crawling between his ribs. A fungus bloom on the inside of his lungs.) 

His dilemma is so swiftly interrupted. Kafka smacks the butt of her gun against your temple before you can panic any further, and you slump forward into her. Your cheek rests on the cushion of her breast, and Kafka looks pleased. She pets over your hair for a moment and shushes you. There's no need to, you're limp and still. But Kafka does anyway. Blade is unsure why. 

Blade is jealous— maybe. 

Kafka presses a kiss to your forehead, then turns her focus to him, pin-prick gaze all on him, "Could you, Bladie?" 

He complies. 

Blade throws you over his shoulder just as Silver Wolf arrives, dropping down from a vent in the ceiling. This is not necessary, but Silver Wolf likes the flare of these things sometimes. Some days, he thinks it's almost— 

(Endearing.) 

Maybe he needs Kafka to wipe his memory again. 

"All wrapped up?" Kafka asks with a smile. 

"Yup." Silver Wolf unwraps a sucker from their last mission and pops it in her mouth. It's bright green. Her mouth will stain. "The system is irreparable at this point. The infrastructure will be fried too." 

"Perfect, Elio will be delighted," Kafka hums. "Let's get back, then. We have a new pet to settle in." 

"Wait, we're keeping them? Actually?" Silver Wolf circles Blade, studying your slack features and bruised cheeks. "Why is their face like that?" 

"They were wearing a muzzle." Blade answers. Silver Wolf looks shocked that he replied. 

(Blade does not see the way Kafka is looking at him. Conniving, smitten, and so utterly pleased with herself.) 

"Gross." Silver Wolf scowls. 

"Let's get them home, then." Kafka walks lazily to the balcony, taking out her phone to presumably dial Sam and their transport. "Our new pet needs a good bath and a hot meal. Some care, don't you think?" 

Kafka flashes a look to Blade. Something in him twists. 

It makes him aware of you, over his shoulder. You're soft in a way he isn't used to. He's carried many bodies over his shoulder many times at the behest of Kafka. Those were flesh weighs to him. Dead and still. You feel alive to him. The thump of your heart, the pressure of your chest and your breath against him. He can feel the way the fat and flesh of your body curve around him. How you mold to him, naturally. 

It’s familiar, almost? It reminds him of— 

"Listen, let's get going. You can play with them later, once we find out if they bite or not. They may need their shots." Kafka says. Blade cannot tell if she's joking. 

Silver Wolf snorts a laugh regardless. 

And... who's to say if Blade ruminates longer than usual as they board the sky ferry back up to their ship. The alarms and sirens drone on as they ascend, idling in the cockpit as they debrief with Elio's emissary. 

Blade has not set you down. 

He runs a hand up the back of your leg, high up your thigh, squeezing flesh along the way. He drags his nails over your skin on the way back down, and you stir with a whine. Kafka looks at him, knowingly as usual, and guides him to your... room. It should be a cell, probably, but it’s not. 

(Kafka had prepared, it seemed. The room has been decorated, softened, with a plush bed replacing the cheap cot that reeked like petroleum and acrylic. Instead, there’s a gentle, floral scent. The bathroom looks freshened, with a bathtub big enough for two.) 

(There are seven locks on the door.) 

"Listen, set them down, Bladie. Nice and steady." 

Blade does as is directed. You grumble and groan, pressing your face into the sheets.  

"I'll fetch some medicine, hm? You stay with them. Greet them. Be good, alright?" Kafka says with a grin in her voice. 

Blade is not good. He is something awful. 

A high-pitched, breathy sound leaks from your throat as you fumble for the rising lump on your forehead. 

Blade is not good. He does not know how to be good. But he... he wants. He will— be something for you. Maybe it'll be poison, or maybe he will learn the language of the roiling, human thing in his chest that he can't believe still breathes. 

Blade shushes you and rubs over the scar on your collarbone with his thumb. You quiet beneath him, and Blade swears you almost turn into his touch. 

Kafka was right, you do match. 

[wrestlersownmyheart]

"Yeet of Fate" Snippet (What I've got down so far)

Title: Yeet Of Fate Pairing: Jey Uso X Reader Summary: When you, an aspiring author, decide to take your skills to the world of wrestling, you decide to shadow and tag along with a couple of wrestlers to learn more about the sport for your upcoming book debut. None other than World Heavyweight Champion, Jey Uso, is the male wrestler you will be working with, and needless to say, that makes you nervous. You tell yourself, things will stay platonic. You tell yourself that… Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: None so far

Yeet Of Fate

You pulled up tumblr on your laptop and checked for any new messages, or notifications. You saw you had a new private message waiting for you, and you excitedly went right to it, for the moment forgetting all other notifications. 

The top message in your message list was from none other than “CatLadyWrestler” a.k.a Natalya Neidhart. She was a lurker on tumblr as a few of the wrestlers were. You’d found out who she was because she’d accidentally made a post to tumblr first, and then tweeted the exact same post from her official twitter more than five minutes later. You’d messaged her and point blank asked her if she was the real Natalya citing that reason, and knowing she was caught, she was honest and said, “That’s between you and me!”

You’d struck up a friendship with her ever since and you’d kept her secret so she wouldn’t get bombarded on Tumblr. 

As you opened her latest message to you, you felt a shiver of excitement. This was it. Possibly your big break into the writing industry. It was do or die time.

“Hey, Y/N! I think we can definitely make this happen. I’ll talk to Naomi and we’ll see if we can get you to shadow Jey and maybe Rhea. Would that be okay?”

You instantly wrote back that it would be great. You did however have your doubts. How in the world could you expect to shadow the World Heavyweight Champion, Jey Uso? And the three-time Women’s World Champion, Rhea Bloody Ripley?

“When Nattie does something, she goes all out,” you commented to yourself.

Nattie instantly wrote you back and said that if you’d give her your phone number she’d call or text you with details. Then she messaged again and said, “In fact, I’ll give you a quick call right away so you can hear my voice and know one-hundred percent that it’s me, lol.”

You knew it was her regardless because of the timing of her Tumblr and Twitter posts, but nonetheless you quickly sent her your number and waited.

No more than a minute later, your phone rang.

THat's all I've got so far! Hope you like the sound of it!

NOTE: The part about how Y/N meets Natalya on Tumblr was inspired by true events for me. Except it wasn’t Natalya. It’s someone that I shall remain quiet about because I promised them I would.

Tagging:

@oreillystolemyheart @lookalivesunshine-x @southerngirl41 @claymoresofinfamy23 @beccalynns-world 

@Heerah34 @dersha89 @shortyiceheart @wwechristina87 @expert-texpert

@sassymox @sammyfinn21-blog @alliecatsworldsblog @potatosackk @keisha-knell 

@peaceloveandcurves @terrortwinunicorn @mzv11 @ibelievedinjh @fafomama

@zigzoggy

[holylustration]

My thoughts about my Tumblr under the cut. What do the kids say these days? Something something, rent lowering gun shots?

I started this side-Tumblr account as a medium to think through my stories, establish accountability for myself by posting WIPs and snippets, as well as share cool moodboard ideas and art created for or from my fanfics. After meeting other folks on Twitter and Discord, that struck me as a bit egocentric, because why wouldn't I want to share the stuff of my talented friends, too? And then I started to reblog other content that I liked that was on-brand with my theme, which is Rogue Trader fanfic and fanart.

Blog history out of the way, let's talk about content. On my little blog, you are just not going to see a lot of head canons or meta-critiques. If you want my takes, go read my fanfics, otherwise, I'm not going to risk yucking on someone else's yum. And I've seen the raging head canon debates! I don't want that on my pretty fanfic and fanart, sometimes memey, Tumblr. That isn't what I want in my space.

As for what takes up that space, well, there's no right, special privilege, or entitlement as to what I post or reblog. I love the stuff my friends make and I love the stuff that people I don't know make that my friends reblog. But even then, not everything makes the cut.

Not getting a reblog, like, or follow, or being unfollowed, is not a personal slight or an attack. I have been on Tumblr since the early oughts and I am mystified that this is the new peception. There could be any number of reasons why I don't do the Thing - you've got content that's already similar to a lot of other stuff I follow and I've got too much of it already and need to trim it down; maybe you have headcanons and ideas that I don't want to read (but that does NOT mean that I don't support your right to have them, let's make that clear); maybe you post a lot of Other Fandom content that I'm not in or into; maybe you format your posts in ways that are unreadable; maybe its all of the above and I don't know you enough to give you a pass about it; or maybe there's just so much content on my dash that I missed your great post that a mutual reblogged. Please don't take it personally. I don't take it personally when someone doesn't follow me or reblog my stuff - I'm not owed anything by anyone and I can't force anyone to like my stuff. I can't be the only one who understands that others, like me, are but one person and can only engage with so much content in their day, whether that's fanfic, Tumblr, or anything else. Maybe that isn't obvious though.

And, again, this my blog, and I'm allowed to do what I want with it within Tumblr's terms of service. I owe no explanation to anyone, but now you've all now gotten to peer behind the veil. Understand that I curate my Tumblr experience to avoid using the block button.

"But Holy," you cry, "The Rogue Trader tags are filled with things that you should be engaging with. You need to look there!"

First, should is such an ugly word. I don't get paid to be in fandom. I'm not a public figure. I'm not an Owlcat employee. I'm not a Games Workshop writer. I'm an old, married woman with a fulltime job and a commute who writes fanfiction for her own enjoyment when she gets a spare minute. You can't make me do anything, and if you tried, then you'd know that making my Tumblr experience a chore makes it unfun and so I will leave and go elsewhere. You'll still get the fanfic, but no sneaky peekies or commissioned fanart - you'll have to wait for it to get posted to Ao3.

Second, I learned in the early days of the Rogue Trader fandom to stay out of the tags, and I very much have continued to adhere to that practice. In the days of yore, the tags were filled with nothing but negativity and insults (sometimes hurled directly at me for my fanfic(s)!), and that's not changed all that much in recent months, though now there are new targets (good for me, bad for everyone else). So, I'm not in the tags. I never will be in the tags. I won't see anything you post unless I'm tagged in it or someone I follow reblogs it and it's on my feed when I'm browsing.

And, honestly, those early fandom experiences and some of these recent ones have only served to make me increasingly wary of folks I don't know who occupy space in those very same tags. I challenge anyone to remain warm and open when you've had folks faking drama for their own self-image and messaging you for months to kill yourself, while others threaten to find where you live and do the job that your own cowardly hand won't. :) There are crazy, obsessive, and out of touch people in the world, and I will always protect myself and those I love first. That includes protecting the content on my dash and how I choose to use and interact with Tumblr (and other social media) for my own safety and sanity. If you think that's selfish, you know how to unfollow me.

But if, for whatever reason, you WANT my attention, if you just know in your heart of hearts that we are DESTINED to be mutuals and besties, and you're not willing to wait for the Introverted stray cat in me to warm up and trust you of her own volition, then please just send me a DM. Make a comment on a post. At me in an ask challenge or something. I do eventually notice! And we probably will become besties and mutuals. And if we don't hit it off, well, that's life, we move on and there're no hard feelings.

But without reaching out, don't assume that I'm in some tower brushing my hair and ignoring you. You're giving me (and my hair) way too much credit.

[peachsayshi]

Hi Peach! I’m pretty new around here but I’m here to get in on your WIP tag. I wanna take a sneak peek at two different things but to save the effort for you to not do that I would really wanna see what the next Older Brothers Best Friend Geto x Reader pt. 4 🫣

“whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same pt. 4”

⊱ ─── [ ❦ ] ─── ⊰

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ older brother’s best friend geto x female reader ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni)  ↬･tags: (check my masterlist for previous parts) tension; alcohol consumption; reader is gojo’s sister; reader has a big fat crush on geto; size difference; kind of angsty but that's because I'm keeping this as an on going drabble as ideas hit me; this ends a bit abruptly but there will be more parts once I conjure up some other ideas( age gap; reader is 22 and geto is 27

⥽ notes: hello! thank you so much for reaching out, and I'll be happy to add you to the tag list! I was originally going to share just a snippet, but in honor of suguru's birthday I decided to go back and clean up the next part to share with you! I know I said I was taking a break from geto fics but something sparked when I reread this XD I hope you enjoy this update hehe

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You're hyper aware of the confined space, of the sound of the car slowly purring when Suguru hits the acceleration, of the intoxicating aroma wafting off of his body, and of the gnawing, aching silence that's hanging heavy in the air.

The two of you haven't said a single word to each other once you dropped off your friends. Suguru tried to eliminate the awkwardness by turning on the radio, but the sound of the low bass was only matching the erratic pace of your heart.

You squeeze your hands into two small fists on your lap, keeping yours eyes on the road as you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth. Your cheeks sting with embarrassment, the heat scorching the apple of your cheeks. You bounce your leg up and down, trying to steady your breath as you muddle through your jumbled up thoughts. A shiver ripples along your exposed spine when you recall the bubbly tone of your friends voice, cringing to yourself as you hear her sing "isn't that also the name of the guy you have a crush on?"

You would do anything to hurl yourself out of the car at this very second.

You aren't even sure if you should apologize profusely for her behavior, or to try and offer Suguru some semblance of an explanation behind her statement.

A hand finds your thigh, a gentle touch bringing your awareness to the present. You gaze down and stretch out your tense fists, fingers spreading where the tips barely touch Suguru's palm.

You freeze.

He lightly traces his thumb back and forth, the tender gesture forcing your will to look up at him.

His sharp eyes are still on the road, and he relaxes into his seat while using his other hand to steer the wheel. "Relax, sweetheart," he coos warmly, a hint of a grin ticking at the corner of his mouth, "I'm not going to bite."

There's a tickle in your throat when you speak, your voice leaving your body in timid horror. He makes it so hard for you to conceal yourself - like you're a an open wound bleeding freely before his eyes.

"I'm mortified," you admit quietly, shameful tears forming as the champagne bubbles in your veins.

Suguru's hand doesn't leave you, but hearing your reply cracks the gentle grin on his face.

"Why are you mortified?" he replies steadily, his brow quirking with intrigue but there's a playfulness in his tone that makes you wary, like he's trying to pry the answer out of you himself.

"Um, because of what she said-" you exhale, as you turn away once Suguru tries to catch your stare. You return to look at the tips of your fingers so close to his palm, the slither of distance sending tingles up your forearms.

"Don't sweat it. Besides, nobody is worse than Satoru, right? He's particularly embarrassing when he drinks," Suguru consoles.

You swallow nervously at the mention of your brother, wishing that Suguru didn't bring him up at this very moment. You mindlessly extend your index finger out, the pad slightly ghosting Suguru's knuckle, and your heart flutters when he flexes at the featherlight contact.

The car halts abruptly, and your heart stops.

You didn't even notice that you made it back home.

The street lights around you glow like a thousand stars, a dewy mist hindering their radiant halos. Suguru lifts his hand away from your thigh to shift the gear into park, and you feel an unwanted chill from the vacancy.

"Yeah," you anxiously snigger, trying your best to play off the moment with ease but there's something in your heart that's stopping your performance.

You're defenseless against the influence of the alcohol in your system, the mask you've so carefully been wearing cracking to lay bare the truth beneath.

You breathe out as you undo your seat belt.

"It's just..." you carefully add on, your courage bravely egging you on to just tell Suguru how you really feel.

There's no point in lying, you reiterate. Come clean.

When you turn to face him, you find yourself faltering once again. He looks bigger than he is with you both trapped inside the vehicle. The expanse of his broad shoulders stretching across miles. His dreamy eyes pierce through your own irises, plunging themselves right into the depths of your soul. You're suddenly shrinking under the heat of his gaze, curling into yourself like a small creature hiding in it’s shell.

Suguru tilts his head, always considering you thoughtfully.

"Just?"

You angle your body towards him, wishing you could just pour out your feelings in an effortlessly cool manner. You think about how Utahime, Shoko and Mei Mei act. Each one of them moving and flowing with self assurance that you can only admire.

Right now all you have is the softest parts of you, your delicacy at the forefront. All the drinks you've consumed have eroded away the shield of your concern, and you feel everything spin once again while Suguru remains firmly in his own place.

Strong. Poised. A beacon that your heart keeps gravitating towards again and again. It pounds in your chest - thump, thump, thump - and the longer you linger in his space, the less you find yourself willing to resist your own desire.

"Remember when we um...when we kissed?" you feebly inquire, a slight shiver making your shoulders tremble.

Suguru's eyes dip to your lips, the memory an anchor of temptation that constantly weighs him down when he's around you.

"You were...guiding me, a-and you said something along the lines of how some guys like it when the their partner can be...assertive..." your body moves faster than your mind can catch up with itself. You inch closer, leaning your torso forward as you tilt up your chin to place your face directly in front of his. "There's...there's something I need to tell you..."

Suguru's expression transitions from curiosity to caution. He visibly stiffens when you close the gap, your innocent lips brushing against the corner of his mouth.

"Sweetheart," he mumbles warily, but releases a petite sigh when you press firmly down.

A peck so small for a gesture far, far too big.

"Would it be so bad if I said it?" you wonder, when you notice him visibly stiffen. "Would it be so bad if we just-"

Your mouth goes dry at the thought, your stomach twitching with uncertainty. Your hands find his shoulders, and you trace the outline of his lips with your own, lingering for just a minute as you hold his gaze.

You faintly lick your lips before moving in for a real kiss.

Just like he taught you.

You feel his palm against your waist, a wave of goosebumps bumping all over your bare skin. Suguru parts his lips to grant you entrance, and you hungrily slip your tongue in for a taste. You ribbon your arms around his neck, whimpering gently when he digs his fingers into your flesh. He eagerly returns the kiss, in the same way he did before when the both of you were lying horizontally on his couch. Your lips crush together, your tongues locking into ties and twists.

He drags his electric touch upward, slipping underneath the flimsy fabric of your top. You gasp into the kiss as his fingers tease the curve of your breast, grazing the underside and making you sink your own digits into the forest of his shadowy mane.

But just when you've almost lost yourself into the haze of your addiction, Suguru suddenly pulls away.

Your name spills out of his lips in frustration.

You widen your eyes slightly.

For as long as you've known the man he's always ever addressed you with one of his many cutesy pet names.

His "sweetheart", his "doll", his "princess".

Every one of them left his lips with indifference but they always held so much affection while maintaining a safe distance of attachment.

But hearing your name, which always leaves his lips like an affliction, which he only calls out in moments few and far in between, seizes your heart pitifully.

"We shouldn't," Suguru points out, his voice deeper than the color of his midnight hair. "We can't."

You thought about the girl he was kissing on the night of his party. The way his body tangled in between the fabric of her purple dress.

"Why not?" you press, anticipating your long awaited answer.

You wanted to hear him say it himself - to admit that there was somebody else. Maybe the rejection will help you finally get over this long winded crush. Maybe the heartbreak is just what you needed to set yourself free.

Suguru's hand was still resting precariously underneath your top, but neither of you were perturbed by the intimacy of your bodies loosely intertwined.

"Because," he breathes out bitterly, “I told Satoru that I wouldn't."

Your jaw goes slack, your mouth dropping in obvious surprise when you part your lips.

"You...what?"

There's a twitch in his jaw. He dotingly presses his forehead against yours, allowing his eyes to flutter close. Leaning into the touch of the one thing he's forbidden to have.

He slithers his hand away, and your body twinges in agony, like it's begging him not to. Tears prick your eyes, but you aren't sure if it's because you can feel your heart crumple or if you're simply overwhelmed.

"I shouldn't have-" Suguru murmurs, "I shouldn't have let things go so far."

"But-" you sniffle, blinking back your tears and your reaction makes him instantly pliable, like you can mold him easily between your fingers

"Satoru is too familiar with every part of me. Too familiar with my history. The good, and the bad." Suguru explains, "And he's fiercely protective of you."

The truth sinks in, the awareness of yet another obstacle in your way.

You slump in your seat, feeling foolish for not considering the extent of how deep their friendship lies. "Oh."

Your hands fall away from around his neck, and you fidget as you shift to look forward. Your chest hiccups as you try to resist the full shattering of your docile composure.

Suguru's eyes don't leave you.

"I should...um,..." you announce with a furrow of your brow, shedding all aspects of your embarrassment and grief in the hopes to leave them behind in the front seat of his car. "I should go..."

You gather your things, ignoring Suguru when he calls out your name a second time. You slam the door behind you, your heart effectively dwindling into nothing but ashes at your feet.

One tear falls, and then another. You initially perceived that the strike of rejection would bring you a sense of catharsis, a final out of the clutches of these sinking emotions… but you didn't expect the sting to hurt this dreadfully.

You carry your feet with as much strength as you can muster to your front door, fumbling with the keys as you struggle with blurry eyes. You sniffle quietly to yourself again when you insert it into its lock, taking a minute to compose yourself before stepping inside.

You freeze taking a step over the threshold when a brush of warmth traces the outline of your waist.

There’s a shadow that drowns out the light behind you, whispering for your return.

You spin on your heel to find Suguru behind you, his lamenting eyes apologetic.

You quickly wipe any rogue tears away, clearing your throat as he takes another step forward.

“Please,” you beg, “let’s just forget about it…”

Suguru nods his head - not because he wants to, but because he has to.

He doesn’t ask for permission when his hands grip your waist, nor do you deny him the access.

“Please, don’t cry,” he soothes in return, his voice angelic and lovely. “Seeing you upset kills me”

You know it’s the truth.

Suguru has always been blunt about how soft he is towards you - even going as far as putting Satoru in his place when your brother tries to overstep.

“I’m fine, just tipsy…” you lie.

Suguru doesn’t point out your fib - taking it at face value even though he doesn’t want to. You nuzzle into his arms when he extends his embrace, enveloping yourself into his protective hug.

One his hands seeks your jaw, and he cradles it with care, ensuring to handle your fragility with a delicate caress. He tilts your face up towards his helpless eyes, hoping you’ll eventually make peace with this like he did. His thumb traces your bottom lip, he tugs at the muscle and watches it gently bounce back. Resisting the urge to kiss away whatever pain he’s caused.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t want this, because I do,” he confesses, maintaining a balance between the scale of your relationship lest you feel weighed down by him. “You make me feel things that I shouldn’t.”

He seals the truth with an honest peck and a spark ignites inside you but you hastily put out the flame.

Yet, his admittance eases some of your woes and you count the minutes passing as you two linger into the kiss far longer than intended.

tags: @brownskinnedgirll @chibigetoo

[irregularcollapse]

Hey, I'm so sorry to hear about how you feel about the mota fandom and what happened to you :/ I meant to send a message earlier but life got in the way. I hope you're feeling better now, and I can only tell you that your fics and writing are some of my favorite in the fandom. Just by reading your stories, I can tell the care that was put into choosing each word to best convey the story and the characters' feelings, and it is really somethinf I admire :) I hope I can be as good a writer as you someday ❤️ And for the mota fandom, I totally get what you and that anon said! If you'll allow me a bit of a rant, to me, the mota fandom is full of well-intentioned people but I found that one of its problems is that, as much as there is enthusiasm, it is going in circles. Many have said it and I've noticed it too, but some have a tendency to jump on other people's ideas without giving credit or even asking if it's okay to expand, and on more than one occasion I found one of my ideas in someone else's inbox just a week after I'd posted it which threw me off posting any kinds of hc or random ideas, I only post full fics now because I'm scared that people will see an idea/au that they like on my blog and decide to expand on it without my consent or even crediting me for the original idea :/ To me that sucks because what I love about creating is the interactions with people, but because of the seldom posting except for full fics I don't get much 😂 And I know I could post snippet or hc, but the overenthusiasm bordering on no fandom manners that I've noticed stops me from doing that. Also, as a writer, it is quite discouraging to see people constantly reccing the same 5/6 fics/authors. Don't get me wrong, those are GREAT fics and authors, but babes, there are over 1,000 works in the clegan tag on ao3, why are we constantly reccing the same fics as in summer 2024. It feels like people only read the fics with the highest hits count, and from an outsider's pov, you'd think there are only 10 writers in the mota fandom 😭 I don't if it's bc the mota fandom is new so there are a lots of people from tiktok/that weren't on tumblr/in fandom before but it truly feels like fandom manners are getting lost, despite the plethora of incredible creators in the mota fandom. So there's this opposition between the enthusiasm over new ideas that seems to die down as soon as a story is posted, except if if it's one of the big fics from the summer. Imo the actual recognition of fics doesn't follow the enthusiasm of ideas and hcs, which is a bit of a shame I think, and to be quite honest, it made me lose my motivation to write for mota bc it just feels like I'll post a fic, it'll get traction for maybe a day or two, and then it'll be forgotten somewhere when people sort ao3 by number of hits or kudos

Anyway that was quite long I'm sorry, you don't have to answer this at all, I just needed to get this off my chest, but I really hope you know that even if it may not feel that way, you are an amazing writer, who clearly loves your stories, the characters and the words you use, and that is translated to the ao3 page <3 You truly are one of the most talented fic writers this fandom has, and I'd support you and your stories in whatever fandom you may be in ❤️

I assure you, anon, that you're not the only person to feel this way! I've had quite a few private conversations with friends and mutuals about really similar experiences and observations, and how disheartened and uncomfortable it's making us feel.

I guess people don't say anything because they don't want to be seen as sowing discord or being mean. I know that there are going to be people who might see this and interpret it as me "fuelling fandom discourse" or "fandom wanking" or "being a cunt" but actually I'm just talking about how we treat creators in online spaces, and the way that people en masse have apparently forgotten that creators in fandoms are people.

I had another anon tell me that someone laid claim to one of their ideas in the tags of their headcanon post, and I don't think you're the only person whose idea has been stolen and passed to another writer. I'm really sorry that's happened to you, and you're so right to not feel like posting anything because of it! This is truly the kind of stuff that makes people not want to participate or put themselves out there. Sometimes it's even writers doing the stealing, blatantly and without credit. It makes me think that a lot of people haven't shared creative spaces before and don't know how to be polite.

I also 100% agree about the fic rec thing. It's really disheartening to see the same fics passed around over and over again, not only from a writer perspective but a reader perspective. Something that seems to have emerged in fandom spaces over the years is deifying certain authors of popular fics - fic authors being treated like celebrities, the concept of a "must-read fic", even people only reading fics and authors that are already seen as popular/successful. I get that some people don't want to spend time scraping ao3 for niche fics, that's super understandable, but that's also why it would be nice to see a bit more adventure and variety in fic rec lists!

There is a low-key competitive feeling which a few people have mentioned to me - the feeling that there are people who want to "win" fandom or be the most popular/most reccd/most recognised writer, or whatever it may be. I just feel like anything that makes people feel like they're better than others is... come si dice... not good. I think it's a shitty way to treat people you're sharing a creative space with, to view them as competition and commodity.

Writing for consumption or writing for audience approval isn't something I've ever done, but I feel like it's cropping up more and more in fandom spaces too - not just MOTA, either. That's sort of a different discussion, but I do feel it's related to the copying/stealing in a way as well.

Now I also have to apologise for this getting too long! I'm glad you got it off your chest, and please feel free to come off anon at any time, because you've got an ally in me (and others too, I assure you). I think that everything you've said here merits consideration from everyone, at the very very least! It's in the interest of pursuing a more inclusive, supportive fandom space.

Thanks heaps as well for saying nice stuff about my writing! I only ever want to tell stories, and to give people something to enjoy that has clearly been created with care and consideration. I write to express things I want to express, and so it means a lot to me when other people see what I'm trying to say and pick up what I'm putting down. Truly madly deeply, my most boundless thanks!!! ♥️♥️♥️

[ladykailitha]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames or specific AUs your WIPs; not titles, filenames (eg werewolf AU, unnamed mafia omegaverse, or Steve's Rizz vs Eddie's Zero Filter.)

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write at least 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

Guys... Street racers is sooooo close to being done. Help me get to the finish line, yeah?

Also I had to change a couple of the names because tooooo many M names and I was getting them confused.

“File” Names

PI Eddie (formally Murder Mystery or Mystery Writer)

Fashion AU (Formally Model AU)

Mascot

Street Racer

Dragon Slayer

Snippet

And then the truth just came tumbling out of {Eddie's} lips. He should have lied to them. Told them some bullshit about some psycho killing Chrissy and that he ran for his life. But instead he was telling a bunch of high school students and their god damned babysitter what really happened in that trailer.

And holy shit. They believed him.

Eddie stared at them wide-eyed. They believed him.

It would be another day of hiding for them to fully explain everything, but by god. Three fucking years.

Eddie suddenly had so many questions not related to the Upside Down, but to how the hell did Steve Harrington manage to balance three separate lives?

Dorky jock and king of Hawkins High.

Cool as shit King, best racer and leader of the Asphalt Assasins.

And bad ass hero with a fucking nail bat. Apparently.

Jesus Christ.

I am back! I had a wonderful time with my sister and her daughters, but I missed WIP Wednesday!

If I finish Street Racer and still have asks for it, I will start up a new fic to put up instead. ;)

The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.

Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.

Tag List:

@zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @dreamercec

@beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @kultiras @niniel-karenine

[plusultraetc]

WIP Game 3: Tokyo Drift

Rules: In a new post, list the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thank you @blinkeasy for tagging me!! As always, I have Way Too Many WIPs, so here's a semi-random selection from the folder :')

MHA:

training montage

the world was figured out

object in motion

it could be tricky trying to fit you in this story (sundae best)

now i'm glad i get forever chapter 2

brave the dark chapter 8 (fantasy au)

end of an age (star wars au pt 2)

psych(ic) au

Kagurabachi (if you haven't read Kagurabachi I highly, highly recommend Kagurabachi, but I only have two WIPs for it so they're going on this blog as well lol):

live what little life

two spell cascade

No pressure tagging @coffeecollections @atereal @velwynn @bloody-bee-tea @eephemeris @poppy5991 @lethxia and anyone else who wants to do this!!