#'this is just a little fanfiction i'm writing for fun it doesn't have to be perfect'

[tyrannuspitch]

11,500 words into this project. still four chapters to go. gnawing on the bars of my cage. the next four will be FUN but i want to be FINISHED......

[serxinns]

Yandere Older class 1a x Deadpool reader

You were a goofy sarcastic playful hero who always made jokes while brutally punching villains in the face while doing wacky and wild stuff saying the most unhinged stuff with a smile on your face and your Fans and Most pro heroes love that about you

Iida was always with you not because you were dead gorgeous and your fighting skills were amazing but because he's worried about you! You pulling these dangerous stunts makes him have a heart attack whenever he peacefully wants to see the news he sees you teasing and taunting a very dangerous and very deadly villian riling them up to the point where they just slash at anything to get you to stop your yapping, next thing you know he's grabbing his hero suit and running over there right now he always scold you for being u safe while you just either laugh it off do those cringey "I'm sowwy🥺" look iida pretends to be cringe out about but deep down he thinks your pouty face and puppy eyes are cute,

Bonus: both you and Iida's fans agree that Iida was the Dad friend and make those complications video of him being one

Bakugo wants you to depend on him and look up to him he always wants you to be by his side whenever you work with him, but you being a little shit makes his job way harder, you always making fun little jokes and uncanny comedic lines while the two of you are literally in a life and death situation while you're just singing nursery rhymes, He always yells at you to be serious and all you did was say "uh oh cranky pants need a sippy cup?" He chased you around that day and seeing that cute little cheeky face of yours made him blush he always acts like he doesn't wanna work with you but in truth, he stalks your schedule and demands his agency to work close to yours but he won't admit that even the fans kinda see that he cares for you and loved you and himself dynamic

Momo is the worried mother if you ever get hurt by a nasty villain she's beating that villain to a pulp heck even making the dude see the clouds, she always is very protective of you like a mother hen making sure you eat, sleep brush your teeth she always tell you to while you whined like a child, if you didn't bring your lunch don't worry she brought a little bento box for you!, whenever your merch comes out or before she's always the 1st one to get it. She even has a room dedicated to it (just like Izuku but we'll get to him) literally she and Izuku would have a battle about who got the rarest merch and expensive merch

Ochako is like your number 1 biggest fan she always knows your schedule as well so she can either watch you from afar and if you needed any help she'll be there to kick their asses!, she's like Pucca (if you know the childhood show congrats) she always watching you dreamily eyes fluttering but strong and dangerous if anyone messes with you, she's is always in her dream world imagining carrying you like a little princess and she's the knight although she's also ok with you holding her like that as well both ways make her blush and giggles and kicking her feet while floating up, she makes fanfiction of you x reader or her under a fake username ofc so she can write down all her fantasies (some of your classmates would follow that page secretly) she keeps an oversized merch t-shirt that you wrote an autograph

While Izuku may be all Might's number one fan who said he can't be yours as well? Like this dude knows it all has 4-6 pages of you, your quirk, your weapons, your personality, your likes and dislikes, your family, your address-, you name it! He doesn't even need to write down your schedule since he remembers it so easily dude has a great memory there's no denying it, whenever his fans scream all over him wondering what's his favorite hero everyone is so surprised when he mutters out you heck he's shy whenever he talks to you your his idol his darling his sweetie standing in front of him happily making jokes and laughing along or badass shooting and slashing any bad guys, as mentioned in mom's headcanon this boy got a WHOLE ROOM dedicated to you heck one time you jokingly put a dick shape drawing when he asked to Have a autograph he bought a photo case for that and put it on display like he's PROUD

Sero and Denki were your go-to when wanting to cause trouble and Crack some jokes heck all even flirt with each other trying to see who gets the most flustered denki craves whatever attention you give him whether trying to annoy him or not he loves it when you eyes are on him he may act like a carefree person who jokes with you but he's a possessive dude he glares at your fangirls from afar when they're squealing all over you trying to get a autograph calling you hot that made his blood boil that he had to intervene by saying there's a villain waving goodbye at the girls while their squealing got louder seeing Denki but Denki glared at them Sero is the calmer one but is Obsessive he loves everything about you whenever your close to him on the outside he as cool as a cat but inside he's dying screaming on the inside just wanting to hold you close he always ask for any sort of physical interaction like high fives, hugs, he even remembered you patting him on the back praising him for wrapping up the villains luckily someone recorded it and now he saves that in his phone watching it repeatedly over and over again also he keeps those spiderman x Deadpool comics

Jirou and Kiri are like Sero but she acts more like a soft tsundere while Kiri acts like a love-sick puppy following you around and worshipping you head to toe. She acts cool and tough around you but if you compliment her she turns red and hits you to shut up just like Izuku she's too shy to speak to you and always lets you do the talking while she doesn't pay attention just hearing your voice makes her trapped in a dazed smiling dreamily she just couldn't help it You were so adorable even under that mask she wants to cup her hands on your cheeks and give you the biggest kisses leaving you a hot flushed mess kiri on the other hand worships you like a God, he always rants to his friend teru about you and even works together with bakugo at times talking to him about you the two of them will rant on about how cool you are (mostly Him and bakugo just listens) he will invite you to spar with him and if he ever accidentally hurts you he feels so bad and apologies to you even tho you didn't even show any anger or sadness but he thinks you do but all you did was laugh saying how strong he was making the number 4 hero blush and crumble right there he always used to complimenting you on your skills body and even your muscles but you complimenting him!? It's like a kid getting a gold star for their behavior! After sparing he always buys you his favorite drink which you teased him about while he looked annoyed with your teasing he actually likes it and when you promise to stop he mentally whines wanting you to do more!

[dira333]

Behind the scenes of a Tumblr Writer - Tag Game

Hey there, I love behind the scenes and since this is something that's rarely talked about, let me start the chain... if you feel uncomfortable with a question, just skip it. You can add some if you want as well.

Started writing: I wrote my first Harry Potter fanfic at age 10. Started posting around 15,16 years old. I'm now 31, so...

Started blogging: I started on a German fanfiction site around 2010/11 I think. Might have been earlier too, but back then I was mostly reading, no posting. I really started when I got into One Direction (very late, tbh)

Followers: Currently at 961, which is wild to me. I don't even know that many people IRL. I convince myself that half of them are bots tbh, so I don't freak out all the time.

Communication: The people I talk to regularly are: a few writers who answered after I constantly reblogged and commented on their works and a few people who commented and reblogged my work. Writing and blogging on here can be pretty lonely, depending on your personality and the time you're active (I'm from Europe and a lot of my followers seem to be living in Northern America, so there's the Timezone thing) ... And I found that the best way to strike a conversation is to reblog, comment, and to not be shy. I do wish I got more asks, though....

Likes: I actually filter them out. I have 793 original posts up at the moment. It doesn't give me anything to know how many likes a fic has other than to tell me which characters are liked more than others or maybe that one fic does especially well. My activity only shows me comments, asks, reblogs with tags, and answers to my own asks. I live for the tags and the comments.

Requests: I love talking to people about ideas. That's how I started the plotbunny game because I have so many ideas and so little time. And sometimes an idea just doesn't want to be written out fully. Requests are fun because YAY, I get some mail... but then I freak out because I don't really know how to write this NOW and then I freak out because it's been a week already, two weeks, wait, two months? I'd rather have suggestions where people tell me vague things like "I'd love to read something about this side character" or "Have you ever considered this character with a soulmate trope"? because then I don't have the feeling of failing the request when I write it a little bit differently.

Writing: I am a fast writer. I know that's one of my talents. I can churn out a oneshot of 1k words in less than an hour. People read slower than I write. That can suck sometimes because you've just posted this and you want to know what people are thinking but they're not as fast as you are. I do have a lot of ideas. I want to write constantly but my brain doesn't always want to. I am trying to respect that.

There are also certain things that I just feel wrong writing. I cannot write anything suggestive (I also don't like reading it) and everything past that gives me panic attacks. I can hardly write mean characters and jealousy feels so wrong to me that I cannot write it. I've also overdone it with the soulmark trope and now I feel like everything I write about it feels lifeless.

I write best in the mornings before going to work, but I don't have much time there. I don't need special music (but it helps), but I need to have at least some energy left and at best, no distractions. But I have been writing for over 20 years, so I will say experience helps a lot.

Tagging: @revasserium @shoulmate @lemurzsquad @screamin-abt-haikyuu @toomanygoldfish @satorisoup @emmyrosee @reverie-starlight @alienaiver and @writingsofanomnivore and everyone else who wants to join

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star - Tape #4 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Y'all this chapter took so long to write. This is NOT proofread once again me and Grammarly were beefing because she doesn't understand fanfiction. Nonetheless, it is 12 am MST and here it is. Now for an overall warning, this chapter talks about so much that I was to let everyone know that I meant for this to be a dark series. That was my goal. I'm so sorry if some of these topics seem like they're too heavy for you. If you feel overwhelmed, disgusted, or just find it hard to read please remember that it is okay and you are loved. This chapter mentions miscarriages, eating disorders, gunshot wounds, suicide, etc. I love you all and stay healthy. I will try to post my 500 followers post soon! Not proofread because eepy. YOU'LL read my chapter unedited and you'll like it! (hopefully). Thanks for reading. -Love you all, Em.

Video Killed the Radio Star Remake Masterlist

Link to the Ao3: Video Killed the Radio Star

Previous Chapter: Tape #3 > Next Chapter: Coming Soon...

WARNING: miscarriage, eating disorder, catholic guilt, bisexuality mention??, period underwear, stalking, marital problem, divorce, sexual harassment, guns, knives, gunshot wound, This bitch shoots someone, suicide, mention of a skull, blood so much blood.

Tape Contents: We briefly dive into Heather's past. Adeline makes a call that gives the team a reason to visit the suburbs. Heather makes a decision. You see something other than pink for the first time in four days.

Word Count: 6,296

Seven to Four Years Prior- January 10, 20XX

Heather had to get out of Norfolk. She felt suffocated under her father’s watchful gaze and helicopter ways. He was a hard man to love and hard to be around in general. When he drank, she used to pray that he would forget about her, so she became quiet. She didn’t have many friends here anyway, so she took you out of the equation and knew no one else would know her name. 

So, with a heavy heart, she moved her life away to Richmond. She changed her major to nursing and killed that quiet girl from Norfolk. She fabricated real lies that sometimes she couldn’t separate from reality. She stared at girls silently with longing and played it off as admiration if she was ever caught. Catholic guilt stopped it from growing into anything else. 

She was slow to open up about her feelings and showed people an extroverted sorority girl nursing graduate who liked to go to bars on the weekend and let men’s hands pull at her hips desperately in dark corners. 

Now, at twenty-four, she only thought about one thing: how good her stomach looked in this dress. She had thinned out tremendously since the move. At first, it started due to not having enough money to eat anywhere except the shitty university cafeteria. Then, it warped into something else. During its worst moments, she would log her calories or purge food moments after eating it. She could look into mirrors afterward and feel she was achieving something remarkable. Then, sometimes, she would also look at her face and think, ‘Is that what I look like’? 

But tonight, she wanted to do something different, something fun. Having told her sorority sisters this, they all jumped on board quickly, agreeing to meet at the bar around 10 p.m. that Saturday. They were thirty minutes late. 

Heather was gently fiddling with the hem of her short black dress, her eyes flickering towards the entrance every so often as she waited for them to walk in. This year, she wanted to be happier, less suffering in silence, and a little more smiley. So yes, she wanted to have fun with people she called friends. Despite all her efforts, she was sure they could see right through her sometimes. She swallowed nervously as she nursed a margarita. 

The next time she looked at her phone, she saw texts from her former sisters saying that work had been hectic and that they needed to reschedule for another time. So now, Heather Alexander was right back at square one: alone. She glanced down at her dress and frowned slightly at its tight material. It was the kind of dress that made her uncomfortable but made men comfortable. Something always felt wrong with that. Heather always secretly knew that she felt an attraction to women and men, but she always felt guilty at the thought. 

She sighed as she debated her next move when she saw him. He was the prettiest man she had ever seen. He had soft masculine features that almost looked slightly feminine, a uniform clad against his chest, and a charming boyish smile as their eyes met. Heather whispered a silent prayer that he would like her as he approached her and introduced himself as David Hernandez. How could she not fall for him instantly? Deep brown eyes, pink lips, dark skin, and a low rumble in his voice made her feel like giggling. 

It wasn’t long before the two of them were getting married. They spent a few months together in domestic bliss. He got some time off from work, and she kept her last name, and they were… happy. 

At least they were happy for six months, and then her world shattered around her as David was deployed to England. She cried herself to sleep the night she heard, and David stroked her back softly to calm her. Heather didn’t want him to leave her and see someone better overseas. She was sure that women would throw themselves at David’s feet, begging him to kiss them, touch them, fuck them, like whores in the street of Babylon. She couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching him, looking at him the way she looked at him, talking to him the way she did in his ear late at night. She begged him to try and find some way out of it, scared to lose what was rightfully hers, but he couldn’t. He left that week.

At first, it was just six months, but then it stretched out into a year of deployment—a year spent being faithful to a man across the Atlantic. She called him when she had time, wrote letters to him, sent him emails, and constantly contacted him in any way she could. 

When he got home, it was clear that all her efforts had gone to waste. David was distant. He would sulk in corners of their home on his phone. He would lament on and on about how England felt like his home and how he missed it. She couldn’t stand it. This house they bought together was his home, and it always had been. Why was he struggling to see that? 

The more he talked of his deployment, the more Heather became frustrated with him. Then he started to go out more. At first, it was just to speak with some Army friends on base a few spread-out weekends in the month. Then it was every weekend. 

Heather found that the only thing that could keep him home was sex. So they had sex constantly, like animals in heat. Disgusting and rutting against each other any moment they could. However, the second that it was over, he would withdraw again. He would get dressed and say he had to get to the base. 

Then he was coming late, drunk and slurring, as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and woke her up with sensual touches and dirty talk. She took this as a good sign he was coming home to his wife. He was fucking her and no one else. But slowly, he stopped coming home. He would call her late at night to tell her he would stay with a friend for the night. The following day, he would come home smelling sweet. 

Heather felt lost, searching desperately for something to save her marriage. She was devoting all of her love to a man who no longer wanted it, and she could feel him falling out of love with her. 

Her saving grace was the morning that she found out she was pregnant. She called David with tears in her eyes and told him softly over the phone, and she heard him laugh for the first time in months. And just like that, he was back. 

His soft touches, kisses in the grocery store, and dancing with her in the living room were all back. Her devoted and dotting husband had returned home to her. She could feel the dark cloud of the past couple of months dissipate and the sun shining on her. 

That light lasted a good three months. Heather sat up straight as pain coursed through her body, thundering in her abdomen as she shook David awake with tears streaming down her face. Something was wrong with the baby; she knew it. He drove her to the hospital as fast as he could, but it was too late. She had already miscarried.

Heather took a small sabbatical from work and took time to think about her life. She would stare out of their living room window blankly for hours. David was attentive at first, coming home after work and tending to Heather’s broken spirit. But he soon became bored of that routine. 

When Heather returned to the pediatric oncology unit, David was notified that he was being deployed again to Okinawa, Japan. He was packed and ready by the end of that month. She didn’t see him off at the airport, picking up an extra shift at the hospital to distract her from the fact that he was leaving her again. 

David called her two months into his leave to tell her he wasn’t happy. He wanted a divorce. Then he hung up before she could get a word in. That’s when it all started. Her obsession with consuming anything romantic was almost debilitating. She would visit bookstores and attend readings at the public library, sometimes calling off from work to sit at home with her romances. That’s when she saw you again. She thought that you would have stayed in Norfolk. You had once told her that you loved the water. You liked how it could look gloomy and promising on different days, with mist rolling off the surface. 

She tried not to talk to you. She did. She didn’t want to scare you away like she scared David away. No, no, no, she was sure it would all work out this time. So she loved you from a comfortable distance, watching you from her car on the weekends at night, leaving you her gifts on your windshield—a silent courting. 

She couldn’t help herself on Valentine’s Day. She had slipped into Nicole Smith’s room without Adeline recognizing her, and she gave the table with Adeline’s purse on it a gentle knock with her hip. Heather apologized quickly, telling her not to worry. She promptly dropped to the floor to gather the spilled contents from Adeline’s bag, and she slipped a labeled key connected to a keychain that read ‘or die’ into her pocket. Once she had copied the key, she quickly returned the original to its owner. 

She felt electric when she entered your apartment on Valentine's Day in a dark outfit, a hood covering her face, and four dozen rose petals in a container. She breathed in your perfume as she perused through your bathroom. She traced the spine of every book she could touch on your shelves. She gently dove into your dirty hamper and quickly pulled out a pair of dirty underwear, blood on the inside of them as she shamelessly slipped them into her pocket. Then she got to work spreading the petals throughout your apartment. By the end, she stared at her work, panting lightly as she lay across on your rose-covered bed. 

She had to have you. 

Present Day- March 5, 20XX

Derek and Spencer managed to get to the public library an hour before closing. They pulled your coworker, Valerie, aside. She was a pretty brunette, glasses resting on her face delicately as she stared at the two men with a soft look of disappointment. She knew that if they were here, they had yet to find you, and the thought made her feel like breaking down in a fit of tears. She fought the urge to cry as Derek asked her a question, sliding a copy of the Polaroid you had received on your windshield. “Do you happen to remember anyone coming in with a Polaroid camera?” 

Valerie stared at the Polaroid with a soft frown, trying to remember something helpful. Spencer spoke quickly, “Sometime around January fourteenth, maybe?”

Valerie chewed on her bottom lip before the memory washed over her, “Yes! Yes, oh gosh, she was blonde, I think. I remember telling her we didn’t like flash photography in the library. I only saw the back of her head, but I remember the back of her head and the flash of a camera.” 

Spencer tilted his head slightly and nodded at Valerie’s words, processing the information silently.“Are you sure it was a woman?” Spencer asked softly before Valarie enthusiastically nodded. 

“Yes, it was definitely a woman who took the picture.” She confirmed in a soft voice before she looked down at the Polaroid with a gentle tenderness in her eyes. “She baked me cookies last week, you know?” She looked up at the two men with a sad smile and tears in her eyes. “My cat is sick, and she made me cookies to make me feel better.” She laughed sadly as the tears started to fall. 

Derek placed a soft hand over Valerie’s and gave her a tender look, “We’re looking for her,” The words caused a shaky sigh to escape Valarie’s lips as she pulled her hand away quickly and stood up. 

Her cheeks were red as she cried out a soft “Excuse me.” before she turned on her heel and hurriedly left the room. 

Spencer picked up the picture and stared at you in the photo. The way your hair shined in the fluorescent light, your eyes and smile trained directly on the person you were talking to. You were personable, and the thought made his stomach turn. He looked over at Derek as Spencer handed the photo back to him. 

The two men walked out of the library silently, and Derek let out a soft sigh as he watched the sun starting to settle against the horizon. Spencer walked beside him with his hand stuffed in his pockets, and his head hung a little low in thought. 

Derek broke the silence first, “We should get back to the station to see if JJ and Rossi have anything,” 

And then they rode back in contemplative silence after that. 

March 6, 20XX

You weren’t sure if it was day or night anymore. All you knew was that you were starting to feel uneven. Every creak of wood, settling of pipes, and rumble of the house had your back straightening against the bed. You were sure that Heather would fly in at any moment and touch you. 

A million options weighed heavy in your mind at the scenario; you could fight back again, but that would get you sliced again or worse. You could go with it, zone out as much as possible, let her have her way with you. That option made your head spin with nausea. You had to find a way to get out. 

You licked at the gash on your lip, gently exploring the cut with your tongue until you could feel the warmth of blood again. You pushed your tongue back into your mouth and looked over at your day-old apple on the nightstand, half-eaten and brown. You tenderly took a small bite that wouldn’t require you to move your lips too much. 

You didn’t have much of the day-old meal left; a half-full water and this apple was all you had. You chewed softly, fighting off the nausea that threatened to creep in due to the morphine. 

You tried to remember anything that could be helpful to you. It was hard to think of high doses of morphine. You had played with the knob often; when you were ready to sleep, it would go up, and when you were up, it would turn down. But lately, you just wanted it to be turned up. 

You tried to think of when Heather came into the pink room. She always stuffed her keys into her pockets. A plan was in the making: Get her out of her clothes, and you could get the keys. 

You nodded a little despite your discomfort with the idea of her touching you again. You just had to seduce her a little, which should be easy considering that she was ‘in love’ with you. The only problem with that plan was that you had a mangled ankle and a body running on morphine; she didn’t. Heather’s temper was quick when you talked back, and rage followed if you did something against her liking. 

Maybe begging would work. No, you tried that already. Why would begging work? Perhaps you could hurt yourself just enough to force her to take you to the hospital. But that didn’t work either; she was a nurse. She wouldn’t incriminate herself like that, would she? Maybe total submission would be the key. 

Convince her that you love her back and somehow ask to be let out with her supervision, but that could take forever. 

You started to cry softly as you set down the core of the apple and laid down, wishing to pull your legs to your chest, but the pain of one ankle and the chain around the other made that physically impossible. 

You cried until you felt your eyelids become heavy, tears still slipping out of your eyes as you fell into a morphine-induced sleep. 

March 6, 20XX

JJ paced back and forth in front of the bulletin board, occasionally flicking her eyes over to the photos pinned to it as she tried to chase what was likely to be a loose end. The number that had called yours and left a message full of sobs had been a burner. 

Spencer had tried to tell her to eat something this morning, but as the clock’s hands crept towards nine a.m., she still didn’t feel hungry enough to try. She sighed out another frustrated huff as Emily appeared in front of her. “If you sigh like that one more time, I think I might have to force a croissant down your throat.” 

JJ gave her another dramatic sigh before she put her hands on her hips: “I’m sorry, I just feel like we have no leads. We know it's a woman, but Adeline isn’t likely to be the unsub, and all her coworkers have alibis. It just feels like we are running around with our heads cut off.” 

Emily smiled and gave her a gentle nod of understanding, “I get it, but you pacing around like this isn’t helping anyone. Let’s get you a drink, coffee, or maybe something to eat.” 

“People who eat breakfast consistently are twenty-five percent likely to be more productive at work,” Spencer spoke up from a desk not too far from the two women. 

Emily pointed over at Spencer, “See? You’re making Spencer freak out.” 

“I’m not freaked out,” Spencer frowned at the comment before looking back at a file on the desk. 

JJ’s smile was slow as she let her hands fall to her side and let out a soft, “Fine.” She agreed as Emily walked over to the precinct's breakroom, JJ following her. 

Derek was clicking a pen obnoxiously in an off-beat rhythm. He was about to say something when his phone started to ring on his desk. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered it anyway. “Hello?” 

“Hi, uhm, is this Special Agent Morgan?” Adeline’s voice was shaky through the phone. 

Derek relaxed slightly as he set down his pen. “Yeah, Adeline. Did something happen?” He couldn’t think of another reason as to why she would call the number he had left with her if nothing happened. He was too focused on the case to think of any other reason anyway. 

“Yeah, maybe? I was talking to one of the nurses about something today, and I recognized one of them. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner, but it was an old friend from college. She was more Y/N’s friend than mine, but I talked to her a little.” Adeline’s voice dropped to a whisper as she continued, “I mentioned that she was missing, and Heather had a weird reaction. She smiled for a second. I swear, she said she was sad to hear that, but she looked… well, for a second, it just seemed like maybe she was happy.” 

Derek picked the pen back up again, ready to write down a name. It wasn’t much, but they could visit her. “What was her name again?” 

“Gosh, it was Heather something… Heather, Heather, Heather,” She bit her lip as she tried to think back. “Alexander! Heather Alexander.” 

Derek wrote it down and muttered quickly, “We'll look into it, thanks.” As a goodbye, he let Adeline quickly thank him over the phone before he hung up and called Penelope. 

Penelope, quick as always, picked up on the first ring. “Center of divine intellect,” was her greeting. 

“Good morning to you, too, baby girl. Listen, could you get Heather Alexander's address? Adeline Smith called saying that she had a strange reaction to hearing about our girl going missing.” 

“Easy,” was her answer before Derek could hear the sounds of keys being tapped against and a soft humming sound emitting from Penelope’s lips as she pulled up the address: “4432 Lake Margaret Pl., Chesterfield, Virginia.” 

“You are an angel, Garcia.” 

“I always aim to please,” 

“And you never fail, baby girl.” 

JJ had begged Derek with her eyes to let her go with Spencer. It was just an interview, not even an interrogation, just to see if the connection between you and Heather went deeper than old college friends. So why shouldn’t she go? 

Derek wasn’t one to put up a big fight, so he let her with Spencer. It was only thirty minutes away anyway, so if they needed the team it wouldn’t take too long for them to show up, right? He stayed behind on the phone with Garcia, who was doing her best to see if Heather had any criminal history on her record. 

As the car rolled around the cul de sac, Spencer’s eyes struggled to look away from the plethora of plants in the fenced-in front yard. Pink anemones were scattered amongst daffodils, and what looked like daisies were blooming side by side. JJ rolled the car to a stop, parking it against the curb. 

“Pretty yard,” She muttered as she took the keys out of the ignition. Spencer nodded a little; he had to admit that Spring came in a close second to Fall as the superior season in his mind. The flowers growing after frozen earth had kept them dormant, the welcomed feeling of the sun getting slightly warmer. It was still somewhat chilly at ten in the morning as he stepped out of the car with JJ, but he had to admit, it was shaping up to be a beautiful day weather-wise. 

His head tilted back a little as he stole a glance at the blue sky above them and smiled before stuffing his hands into his pockets and tilting his head toward the house. JJ smiled and walked beside him, happy to be out of the precinct and in the early morning air.

Heather was washing the paring knife she had used on you in her kitchen sink, facing a large bay window in her living room. She swiped at the hardened blood and frowned a little at the memory. Why was she so upset with you? She could hardly remember herself when she got angry like that. 

It was almost fitting, her flying off the handle over something so simple as you not being ready for her love. Was she no better than a man? Had she gotten so accustomed to men's vile and sharp ways that she had somehow forgotten how to be gentle? 

She felt her hands shake as a voice came into her head, whispering her worst fear: She was worse than her father. 

She let tears blur her vision at the thought as she rubbed the knife harder with a sponge, shaking her head quickly. No, no, no, no. She was not like that man. She was not cold like that man. She was lovable. She felt love. She felt overwhelming love for you. She had felt overwhelming love for David. 

Her downward spiral was cut short as she lifted her weeping head and saw a black SUV parked in front of her yard. She quickly wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand and sniffled lightly as she gently slid the knife into the dishwasher, watching two people get out of the van. 

Heather’s eyes were glued to the blonde at first, pretty and fair in the morning sun before her eyes flickered to the man beside her. She recognized him immediately. She was sure it was the same man she almost ran into at the hospital yesterday. 

She dried her hands as she walked around the kitchen island. As they got closer, her head arched to see how close they were. Panic was running through her veins. Her gun was in her room upstairs, loaded. She just had to get upstairs; her feet were quick to try and run upstairs and stash it somewhere close before they could ring the doorbell. Just as the idea seemed plausible enough, the bell rang through the house. 

Heather let out a silent scream of panic as she smoothed out her shirt, fixed her hair, and caught a quick glance of her pretty face in the mirror near the front door before she swung it open with a pleasantly fake smile on her face. Her eyes quickly scanned both of their faces as she smiled. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, hi. My name is Jennifer Jareau. This is Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI, and we were just wondering if we could ask you some questions.” JJ spoke clearly as she flashed her badge at Heather, a slight smile on her lips as she looked into Heather’s eyes. Spencer recognized her, finding it strange that he had almost run directly into the beautiful woman at the hospital just the day before. 

Heather laughed softly and nodded as she stepped aside, opening the door wider to let the two agents inside. “Of course,” Her hands were shaking, but she gripped the edge of the door tightly, half tempted to slam it directly in their faces and go upstairs to shoot Catherine and herself to freedom.  

They weren’t on to her yet; she was sure of that– especially given their lack of people– just two against one. She was quick to shut the door behind them before leading the two of them into her living room. “Can I get you two any water? I have some juice.” 

The two agents shook their heads in a polite ‘no, thank you’ way as they sat on the sofa across from Heather. Heather sat on a chair with a soft “Okay” as she eyed them carefully. “Am I in some kind of trouble here?” 

“No, We just wanted to ask you a few questions regarding an old college friend of yours, Y/N L/N.” 

“Well,” She smoothed out her long skirt slowly, remembering to breathe normally, “What about her?” 

“Had you been in contact with her at all? Did she mention anything about someone following her?” 

Heather let out a gentle laugh as she shook her head, “I haven’t really had the time to reach out to old friends lately,” 

Spencer’s interest peaked as he joined the conversation, “How come?” 

Heather’s gaze became a little pointed at the question. Of course, the man has to ask her, “I lost a baby recently, and my husband was deployed soon after, so forgive me for not becoming pen pals with someone I knew at eighteen.” The words were direct and vicious, but she couldn’t help herself. She blew out a soft sigh before she let out a gentle and timid, “I’m sorry,” 

Spencer licked his lips nervously as he leaned back against the sofa slightly, trying to resist the urge to disappear into it. Self-isolation wasn’t uncommon for women who had recently suffered from a miscarriage. That feeling more than likely increased as her support system was ripped away from her. 

JJ gently touched Spencer’s knee before she cut the tension. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Alexander. We’re just trying to piece some information together.” 

Heather ran a hand through her hair before she gave JJ a tight-lipped smile. “I understand that; I’m sorry. Would it be alright if I ran upstairs for some medicine? I feel a headache coming on.” She spoke fast with a tense voice, trying her hardest to pass it off as pain with a rub of her temple. When JJ nodded, she stood up and headed upstairs as calmly as she could manage. 

JJ looked over at Spencer, watching Heather walk away carefully. “She seems angrier with men than anything.” Her voice was slightly amused before Spencer frowned. 

“Doesn’t mean she’s in the clear; stalking is often a form of intense infatuation, but it's also used as a way to control something. She’s struggling with two things that could be our stressors: she’s craving control or dependency. She-” The soft ringing of his phone cut off his whispered rant. He answered it, happy that at least it was just Garcia calling, hoping for a better lead than his ongoing hunch. 

He stood and looked at JJ, who was mouthing for him to go outside, “Hey,” He answered as he slipped out of the front door. 

“Hey, nothing is coming up anywhere on Heather’s record for criminal activity—sorority sister, wife, nurse, clean as a whistle. However, considering we don’t have much right now, I decided to see if she had any warnings at work.” 

“Right,” Spencer looked over his shoulder at the front door as he walked away to stand in front of the garage. 

“Well, last month, she got a write-up for stealing some morphine; her supervisor forced her to go see a therapist after Heather said that she was using it for some leftover pain she was experiencing after her miscarriage. But Heather never showed,” 

Spencer was walking a little further down the driveway as he listened to Garcia talk on the phone, counting the number of windows in the house. His eyes narrowed slightly to try and block out the sun before he looked away. He licked his bottom lip gently before acting on his little hunch, “Could you check her credit report? See if there are any purchases that you can find that seem odd around March third?” 

“Could I check her credit report,” Garcia repeated with a laugh, “Hold on, boy genius.” 

Spencer could see the top of JJ’s head from the bay window, and he turned away slightly, finding ease in the fact that she was still there. Something felt off, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. “She went to the store, but nothing crazy. Bought,” He could hear typing, “Bleach and rubbing alcohol.” 

Spencer chewed on the inside of his cheek as he asked, “When was her husband deployed again? Did she buy anything from a florist around Valentine’s Day?” 

“Husband was deployed December first and,” she hummed gently before she sighed, “Bought some flowers on Valentine’s day, rose petals.” 

Spencer felt that feeling when something connected in his brain, a rush of adrenaline as he felt his hunch slowly turn into a plausible accusation. The roses were just that, roses. But the bleach and rubbing alcohol? That’s a recipe for chloroform right there. And finally, Heather’s husband was deployed at the beginning of December, stressor number two. It made him feel slightly hopeful about walking back into the house. “Thanks, Garcia.” He said as his feet reached the end of the driveway. He hung up the phone, walking back towards the house at a fast pace when the familiar and startling 'crack' of a gun reached his ears. 

His hands drew his gun out of the holster, running back towards the house. He pushed the front door open with his foot as he heard the thumping of footsteps running on the stairs. He rounded the corner to the living room before lowering his gun as he saw JJ bleeding from a bullet wound in her thigh. 

“JJ!” His voice panicked as he reached her groaning side, kneeling low to the ground next to her. “What happened?” 

JJ shook her head quickly, “I’m calling for backup. She ran upstairs. She didn’t even try to,” her eyes squeezed shut tightly as a sharp pain rattled through her inner thigh, “Just go!” She urged him as she reached down for the phone in her back pocket, her free hand pressing on her gushing wound to try and slow the bleeding. 

Spencer’s eyes were filled with uncertainty as he let out a soft, “No, I’ll stay here until everyone gets-” 

“Spencer, go!” 

Spencer felt his spine straighten at the second command. He gave her a grim nod as he stood up, readied his gun, and started for the stairs. His footsteps were soft and calculated as he ascended, pink light flooding the floor as he approached the top of the stairs. He could hear gentle begging in a voice too soft and thick to be Heather’s. 

“Please, Heather, please, my love. Don’t, please don’t.” Repetitive cries for mercy made his legs move faster until he approached an opened door. The regular-looking bedroom door gave way to a steel one just behind it before revealing the scene of what looked like a demented love nest. 

Spencer swallowed a lump in his throat as he took in the scene. Gun pointed carefully at Heather as he spoke, “Heather, put down the gun. You love her. You don’t want to hurt her. You know that.” 

Heather jumped a little at the sound, her pistol clicking softly as her sweaty palms tightened their grip. She was quick to turn her body around to face him with the gun aimed directly at him as she spoke. “Don’t pretend like you know me or her. You don’t know our relationship. She wants this just as much as I do.” 

“You know she doesn’t look at her. Look at what you’re doing to her.” 

Heather’s eyes drifted to you, chained to the bed, watching as you hyperventilate softly. Heather felt her bottom lip quiver before she looked back at Spencer. “She’s just scared. You’re making me do this. She knows you’re making me do this.” 

Spencer’s eyes drifted to your crying form on the bed, trying to keep your sobs quiet as you stared at him with wild eyes. He glanced over at the morphine drip next to your bed before his eyes settled back on Heather. His lips parted to say something more, but she cut him off quickly, “Put your gun down, and I won’t do it.” 

Heather’s body language gives her away as she motions for him to put his gun down, her eyes crazed and large, her hands shaking and rigid against her pistol. “I’m not going to-” 

“Put your fucking, gun down, or she dies,” Heather yells so loud that it elicits a soft sob from your lips, your arms coming up to protect your head, ready for the shot to be administered and for your brains to be blown out in front of Spencer in that very moment. 

Spencer holds up both of his hands at that; he swears he can hear the soft sounds of sirens in the distance as he lowers his gun to the floor slowly, his foot gently kicking the gun away with a soft ‘clack.’

“Now you,” his calm voice says as he raises his hands, inching closer. Tears stream down Heather’s face now as she shakes her head gently. 

“I have to,” Is her tear-soaked reply as she keeps the barrel pointed at Spencer’s head, her fingers twitching lightly as they move for the trigger. Your shaking voice cuts through the scene, and Spencer is pretty sure it’s the only thing that is stopping him from diving for his gun a few feet from him. 

“Heather, baby,” Your voice betrays you as you speak the pet name, coming off a little too forced, but you continue anyway. “He can help. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. We can be happy, and we can get away. He can help, right?” Your arms relax around your head slowly as you look over at Spencer, who nods silently. 

“I can, but you have got to put your gun down.” 

Heather chokes out a strangled sob as she looks over at you, watching as you smile at her. You know it’s forced, but Heather can only view it as the prettiest thing she’s ever seen—a great parting gift. 

She feels spit thick on her tongue as she evaluates her options: kill Spencer and go to jail. Kill you, and she might not have enough time to kill herself. Killing herself seems like the best plan out of the three, so she holds her gun steady at Spencer as she looks at your now bleeding smile. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Her voice is soft, almost so human that you feel your heart clench in pity before that clenching feeling turns into pure anxiety as you see the movement of her arm. Spencer’s feet aren't quick enough for him to tackle her to the ground as Heather raises the gun to her temple and pulls the trigger. 

Her body drops to the edge of the bed, sliding down it as you feel blood coat your legs. Your ears are ringing, and your mouth is wide open as you scream. At least you think you’re screaming. You can’t hear much but a pathetic muffle of the sound as the ringing in your ears increases.

Your hands are quick to try and wipe off chunks of what looks to be part of a skull off of your exposed stomach, and you can’t seem to stop staring at Heather’s limp body at the edge of the bed. The image of her mangled head oozing blood has you gagging softly, feeling yourself getting ready to be sick before you feel two hands cup your face. 

You’re screaming or sobbing; you can’t tell anymore as Spencer Reid’s face blocks the view. He keeps your face steady in his hands as you try to read his lips, your breathing heavy as he strokes your hair gently. His voice creeps in through the ringing until you eventually hear the soft repetition of, “I got you, look at me. Just keep looking at me; you’re safe.”

You feel your breathing slow, your arms reaching up to grab him before your eyes roll back as your body slumps against Spencer’s, and everything is engulfed in black.

Tag List: @dollykisses4reid @babyspiderling @cocobean16 @kodzukenie333 @mmmunson

[fa1rysugar]

Studying Motivation

Trey Clover x Female Afab Reader

Trigger Warnings: Cockwarming, Aged up Trey, Trey is soft dom, Female Afab Reader, Kinda based off a porn I saw lol I'd link it but I don't really wanna go find it again-, Desk fucking, bad writing, spelling mistakes, hair pulling, sort of rough, trey gets kinda mean, I don't know how to write very good smut lmao, creampie.

Request are open, send them in I'm starting to write shit I think of at 1 am well watching Kurtis Conner and it's not okay.

“Sweetie stop- shit” He moaned as you tried to wiggle your hips on his cock. “No- study then I'll fuck you.” He said holding your hips still. Your shirt above your tits your skirt lifted up to bury his cock in your sweet tight cunt. You huffed in annoyance. You looked back at your books. You knew there was no point in trying to beg or argue. You were failing your potions class and this was a great way to force you to study. He knew bribing you to study would work. It would probably work if he bribed you with pastries, but he still wanted to have a little fun. You were his pretty girl so why not reward you properly after you study. He knew it was going to take a while to finish the whole book but he could wait. He was a patient man after all.

After you finished the book and taking the notes you huffed out. “Treyy I'm done” you whined grinding your hips down on his cock. He looked up from his phone smiling at you “Good girl, I'm proud of you” He says kissing your neck thrusting his hips forward making you moan out. His hands grabbing your waist helping you fuck yourself on his cock. Your eyes rolling in the back of your skull. Your hands gripping at his shoulders. He wasn't fucking you rough but after having his cock in you for so long it felt amazing. You felt like you could cum so quickly. Having to sit there as his cock twitched inside you.

"Baby fuck- gonna cum inside you okay?" He groaned hiting you with one final thrust his cum squirting inside you as you spasmed (? Girl idk) around his cock. Cumming around his cock. He held you to his chest.

"So good for me love."

Spelling and grammar mistakes like happen. I apologize but English is not my first language and my autocorrect sometimes just doesn't want to work.

A/n: Everytime i write i feel like it reads so cringey and like I'm writing a 2018 y/n fanfiction bc I know nothing about sex 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry.

[olderthannetfic]

Speaking on the idea of reading professionally published books and not just fanfictions I discovered what my problem is. I know I need to read more and things other than fanfics, buy I could never get interested enough to stick with the books I was reading. But I recently got the time to go to the library and lo and behold my problem was I'm just not interested in fiction writing! I should've been reading nonfiction this entire time, but I never even thought of it. No idea why, but it never occurred to me. And now I'm happily vibing to a book about programming in Java, with plans to come back to read about the history of journalism, specifically I want to check out the one about my local paper. So, I guess this just my way of confirming the idea if you haven't found something you like to read, look to a different genre entirely.

--

Ahaha. Years ago, my late mother described how she'd read a lot of fiction as a kid, then got busy in college and grad school, and came out the other side finding she didn't read much for fun... but then she started reading popular nonfiction with a high standard for the actual prose and that's mostly what she read for the rest of her life.

(This came up on vacation when I had her marathoning some Elizabeth Peters mystery novels, which I described as "stupid books for smart people".)

I've had the same thing happen to me to a degree. I just have very little patience for pro fiction that doesn't meet my standards for prose and that isn't exactly the genre/tropes/emotional vibe I want. I mostly read nonfiction these days.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Elks Version 2.0

My fanfiction writing journey began in February of this year. Prior to that, I had never written anything akin to fanfic or fiction for my own enjoyment. On March 19 I was finally able to shush the anxiety and second-guessing of stepping into the world of sharing my words. Thanks to @ohheypedrito’s steadfast enthusiasm along with @justagalwhowrites’ kind words and guidance I hit post on Golden Walkway. Since then I've shared over 100,000 words and had the support of countless kind souls. Some of those kind souls have looked through my writing and marked it up making me better at the craft. With all of this newly acquired knowledge, I look back on some of my earlier works and really see the holes that needed to be filled by more practice. If I'm being honest, that's why it's been so hard for me to continue on my first multi-chapter fic; the ugly voice inside my head wants me to just call it quits and give up because the writing doesn't match the caliber I hold myself to. I can't allow that to happen. So, with all of that being said, I have made the decision to go back and re-edit my first multi-chapter fic Elks. Soft Jackson Joel meets a shy, artsy girl who loves music and has somewhat of a smart mouth and wooow they fall for each other? Shocking, I know. This story means a lot to me, and is definitely me coping with what just might rear its ugly head during season two. That's what I love about fanfic, we can choose any new adventure for our blorbo.

My plan is starting next week, on the 9th, I will repost the edited *first* chapter of Elks, along with a small ficlet from Joel's perspective, moodboard, and playlist for each selected chapter. Each week you can expect the same thing, until I catch up to the unpublished chapters my Google Docs hold. I've never done anything like this before and I'd really love to have y'all participate if you'd like. One of the best parts of this whole journey has been meeting so many new friends and sharing in the fun of the PPCU. I hope you'll join me. Comment, reblog, send me a DM, stick a post-it note to my back, and I'll add you to the taglist. You can participate as little or as much as you'd like, so much of this is just me thanking scared-to-post past Mallory for stepping foot on this new journey that has turned into a fun and fulfilling hobby. As always, thanks for reading. 💕

[shepherds-of-haven]

Happy New Year, everyone! I thought it would be fun to do a little retrospective on the game's progress over the last year... Shepherds of Haven has grown so much from the little demo I posted in January 2018, and it continues to steadily build and flourish in so many different and exciting ways! Here's a look at just some of the things we accomplished in 2023!

I added 143,151 words to the game (2.5 main chapters, 8 new character interludes) in 2023: the equivalent of writing the longest Lord of the Rings book in one year! We also broke our huge 1 million word milestone—without including code—meaning Shepherds of Haven is now officially twice as long as War and Peace, and almost as long as the entire 7-book Harry Potter series... and all in a single game!

A lot goes into game creation behind the scenes, including the coordination and creation of visual assets for the game—like character cards, codex entries, maps, portraits, and backgrounds—fun stuff for the fans (like the MC info template we created), and songs for the official soundtrack. As the game creeps slowly and determinedly towards its initial completion, that also means learning new things as a solo developer to prepare for the future, like learning to build an official website, researching business and tax practices, and beginning to think about how to conduct testing, publishing, and marketing down the road. Much of what I enumerate here hasn't been made public yet and will continue to cook in the background for a while, but I'm very proud of the work I've gotten done this year and will be excited to unveil more in the future!

And of course, for even more Shepherds of Haven content, I've added and completed even more stories for our little library on Patreon (which also has sizable word count at this point): The Bridge of Bones (a Trouble and Riel murder mystery), O Happy Dagger (a dark adventure featuring Briony, Chase, and Red), and The Hunt (a wild tale involving Tallys, Halek, Shery, and new kinds of spirits, fey magic, and Elves) were all serial stories completed in 2023, while Some Kind of Virus is a cyberpunk zombie apocalypse AU that will continue to be updated with new chapters monthly.

A full list of the Shepherd short stories and serial novellas (with links) can be viewed here!

I hope you enjoyed this session of Shepherds of Haven Wrapped! Honestly, this doesn't actually cover everything I've been working on, but some things can't be packaged and listed out neatly, or otherwise won't seem very interesting to anyone else but me! 😂 As we inch through Chapter 9 and get more interludes done (only a few more main chapters to go), I'm hopeful that I'll also be able to find time to work on my next novel, but we'll see if the Shepherds schedule ends up ramping up or settling down as we work steadily towards finishing the main story!

One important thing before wrapping up is to acknowledge your guys' role in this wonderful, wild journey. I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you for your invaluable contributions to the development of Shepherds of Haven. Whether you took the time to share links to the game, supported its growth on Discord or Patreon, left encouraging messages or asked interesting questions, reported bugs, or showcased your remarkable works of fanfiction or fanart, I am sincerely thankful for the unwavering support from this amazing community! Your collective efforts have played a pivotal role in shaping the world of the game into what it is today. Words cannot adequately convey my gratitude for your support, and I am truly blessed to have such a passionate community surrounding this project.

As we step into 2024, I am filled with anticipation for the developments awaiting Shepherds of Haven. Big things are on the horizon, and I am so excited to share these experiences with you! Thank you for being an integral part of this journey, and here's to the continued growth of our shared little world. Cheers to 2024—may it be a year filled with creativity, adventure, and joy! 🎊

[saintsenara]

As someone who isn't the biggest Hermione fan and keeps it quiet because greater fandom LOVES her, I'm honestly gagging for more of your Hermione takes. Especially your takes on fanon Hermione, who I can't STAND. Have a good one x

thank you very much, anon - there are dozens of us!

hermione is certainly the character i struggle to find common ground with the most - and this has been the case since i first read philosopher's stone as a child.

[which has actually been a really fascinating pop-culture experience - i think we tend to overlook, both because the media landscape and its representation of child and teen girls has changed since the 1990s and because of jkr's increasingly harmful views on gender, just how groundbreaking hermione was as a female protagonist in media which wasn't marketed primarily or exclusively towards girls. there is a reason why so many girls and women identified with her when the books were coming out - and it was very interesting for me growing up to not be one of them.]

the cause of my beef with hermione is for the incredibly petty reason that i find people who possess many of her more... striking traits quite difficult to deal with in real life, particularly if they don't acknowledge [which people in the hermione vein often don't...] that these traits are things it might benefit them to work on in their interpersonal relationships...

but this doesn't prevent me recognising that canon!hermione [and any real person like her] is interesting - and that her more annoying traits work well with her more straightforwardly admirable ones to create a fully-rounded character who, from a fanfiction perspective, is a great vehicle for all sorts of tropes, themes, and storylines.

which brings us - of course - to fanon!hermione...

fanon!hermione is, at her core, another brick in the wall of mary-sues. she's beautiful, and so clever she can solve millennia-old puzzles without batting an eyelid, and she's preternaturally emotionally intelligent, and she's morally spotless, and she's always right, and the story's preferred romantic partner worships the ground she walks on, and anyone who doesn't like her is punished.

i don't think - to be clear - that there is anything wrong, per se, with people wanting to write fanon!hermione [nor, to be frank, with other flawless fanon versions of female characters, oc mary-sues, or self-indulgent self-inserts - i'll defend the right to have fun with characters to the death]. this is a hobby, and people's way of engaging with that hobby doesn't have to appeal to me - it's fun escapism sometimes to write a character who is wonderful and perfect and beloved and has a sexy partner; and when it comes to accusations of writing someone "out-of-character", let she who is without sin cast the first stone...

but i also think - and [sigh] here comes some discourse - that fanon!hermione is part of a slight... girlbossification of female characters in the harry potter fandom [and presumably in others, i just don't follow closely enough to know] which i've always been a little uneasy about.

i understand why this happens - this fandom, like many, has an overwhelming preference for making blorbos of male characters and for imagining these characters in slash relationships. the treatment of female characters in slash subfandoms - i.e. tonks in wolfstar spaces; lily in jegulus spaces - is often straightforwardly misogynistic, and even in cases where it isn't, female characters are often shuffled quietly to the sidelines, except when they pop up - often suddenly in a queer pairing of their own - to benignly cheerlead the male couple.

and i think it's good that this is challenged - as i also think it's good that the heteronormative vibes of a lot of slash are challenged - and that we, as a fandom, are increasingly interested in female-centric works [whether focused on a romantic pairing or otherwise] and discussions. i hope these continue to take up fandom space.

but i have also noticed that the way female characters are written and talked about in these context is - as i've said - quite #girlboss in its approach. the focus is on women as clever and competent and feisty and unruffled and brave.

[including female villains, there are a lot of girlboss bellatrixes knocking around...]

and great! it should be! - but from what i've seen this also comes accompanied by a resistance to the idea that women can also be boring, unintelligent, self-infantilising, vain, arrogant, ignorant, talentless, meek, domestic, rude, dislikable, conservative, incurious, complicit in their own victimisation, plain wrong, and so on, and not only still be worthy of exploration, but be worthy of these characteristics not being automatically considered bad things for someone to possess and it not being seen as letting down the sisterhood to explore a woman who possesses them.

and, sure, hermione cannot be described as many of these things - but she is...

self-righteous; cruel; petty; from a privileged class background in the muggle world which blinkers her understanding of the class structure of the wizarding one; stubborn; terrible under pressure; shown by the text to be intelligent largely due to an ability to rote learn; a people-pleaser with a tendency towards a slightly hagrid-ish blind loyalty; extremely deferential to authority and willing to tolerate cruel treatment from authority figures [i.e. snape]; the most childlike of the trio [she takes her schoolbooks on the run and reads through them for comfort! she's an enormous animal lover!]; interested in one of form of stereotypical femininity [knitting! wearing pretty dresses!] even if she rejects the form of stereotypical femininity liked by e.g. parvati and lavender [and anyone who thinks she's not going to get along with her mother-in-law because molly's a housewife is dead wrong - she's having the time of her life helping put together a sunday lunch at the burrow]; possessed of a filthy sense of humour [i will never understand why emma watson said that the key to playing her was to be prim...]; someone who obviously wants to be liked and to be loved; and so on...

[and also, by the end of the pre-epilogue narrative, eighteen. she's often written in fics in a way which makes her sound like she's seen a lot of life - especially if the fic wants to claim she's "too mature" to bother with men her own age... but she hasn't - she's a teenager, and the reason she's so unpolished and abrasive is because literally all teenagers are unpolished and abrasive. it's just one of the mortifying agonies of growing up.]

we should love this. it makes her thorny and messy and mixed-up and human - and i am perfectly delighted by explorations of her character which delve into unravelling this tangle.

i just like her less as someone who is there to be right and beloved and uncriticised.

unless it's by ron. everyone should be uncomplicatedly adored by their wife guy.

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Alright I'm gonna throw this out there write whatever the fuck you want.

I notice a lot of "Oh you never read a comic" or "that's not how so and so would act."

"It's Not realistic"

A little secret I would sure god damn hope it's not or else Superman/Batman really suck at their fucking jobs and need to fired.

Fanfiction especially write whatever the fuck you want and for all the oh well I'm sick of only having this option or whatever.

Go write something different you don't get to bitch about what other people are reading or writing.

As long as it doesn't hurt anyone whatever.

I might say oh I'm not a huge fan of this or that but at the end of the day I would read almost anything cause I love writing.

So write Tim drake as a sad peice of shit who needs a hug or only a happy go lucky Dick Grayson.

It's up to you have fun do whatever cause at the end of the day someone will love it.

Do what makes you happy no matter what anyone says.

It's literally FANFICTION the whole point is it's not canon compliant.

Have a good time don't listen to the haters ship your shit and read whatever have fun. 

*good explain of teaching and not being a dick look at my reblogs that's what you should be doing try to teach explain give a different perspective. Have constructive arguments not just inherent negativity.

*I was sleep deprived it was 4:00am I didn't explain myself well I am encouraging changing it reconizing the blatent sexism, racism and everything inbetween cause there is a lot. Giving people a voice through These characters.

But you can't change other people but you can educate.

My point was you gonna see things you disagree with or things you really love don't go out of your way to be a dick.

I shouldn't see a random headcannon and 50 comments that's wouldn't happen he's not like that.

Someone's gonna write Tim Drake as a annoying asshole whatever. Someone's gonna write Jason Todd as a peice of shit. A person is gonna completely butcher Damian. Someone is gonna forget Cass or Duke just don't be an asshole think explain have an once of kindess for people. They just want to enjoy stories so do you.

So write we have 50,000 Tim drake so let's write more for Cass. Shift our focus give more content remember someone put time and energy into that story don't shit on everything they have ever done but shift the narrative.

Don't complain add to the pot cause I know a lot of people would love to read whatever you have. I have multiple long fics that focus specifically on the female superheroes because I want to read more Oracle and far less Dick Grayson so I'm throwing my hat in the ring.

You should read comics I meant in the example of assuming people haven't.

Better?

[moonblastbitch]

Yellow card update

Hi ya'll! So I barely use tumblr nowadays, but considering some stuff going on I thought it would be good to do a quick little come back.

So hi! I'm Kit, I write the griddlehark fic Yellow Card with my friend Starr. It's a very silly fanfiction about age difference Harrow and Gideon having an affair and raising a child together. It's pretty well known in TLT fan spaces which I'm super grateful for! It's not an understatement to call this little fic my pride and joy. I've spent the last two years working on it as my little labor of love and it's kinda grown a cult of followers! Really, it's a fun excuse for me and my friend to work on something we care about together. But lately I haven't felt inclined to work on it and I want to talk about why.

Over the last several months I've had some health stuff going on that's resulted in needing two surgeries. Along with that, I moved into a new place and my gf and I are managing some new financial stress. Plus, you know, the general state of democracy in decay all around the world. It doesn't leave me a lot of time or energy to write silly smut fic. Everyone has been very supportive of me taking the time I need to recover and I'm really grateful.

But... this is where I have to address some not great stuff. Today my friend approached me with a fanfiction making fun of my writing. And several posts from someone making fun of the tropes I use in the writing. Now, I want to make this abundantly clear. Absolutely no one is required to like my writing style or fics. I don't write for praise or wealth, just for my own personal happiness. I think everyone is within their right to complain to their friends if they dislike something they read. What I really can't tolerate however is this intense hostility toward myself or my fellow writers. Nor do I appreciate having an entire fic written mocking me or my stylistic choices.

Back when I first joined the TLT fandom in 2020 it was teeny tiny. Now it's a lot less so. It's been so satisfying to see everyone grow and change over the years, and I think I've grown a lot as a writer. Sadly though, I've seen a lot of stupid bullshit. I've seen personal friends of mine targeted in harassment campaigns because they ship the wrong ship. I've been added to public bookmarks complaining about my writing, I've been subtweeted, I've been made fun of. And I think I'm done.

I write for my own pleasure. I write to bond with my friends. I am not writing for homophobic assholes who use my work to mock me, nor make me or my co-writer the target of harassment. So, as a result, Yellow Card and all my other TLT fics are on an immidate hiatus, with the exception of one upcoming commission for the TLT for Palestine charity.

I spent a long time tonight debating if I should even write this post. It seems like by writing this I'd be giving the people making fun of me more ammo. But honestly? I don't care. My feelings are hurt. I am upset. I shouldn't have to hide that because some bullies will take bits of this statement to use in their next bitchy text post.

I want to reiterate something important. I am open to critque on my work. Anyone who has an issue with my writing style is more than welcome to come into my comments and let me know if something isn't flowing right, if there are unfortunate implications of a line I may not have considered, if there is something they personally find a bit distasteful. Sadly, the people doing this skipped right to mockery and ridicule, and that is unacceptable.

What drew me to this fandom in the first place was Muir's openness to her background in fanworks. She clearly takes such pride knowing her book series has spawned into a wild, happy fandom writing crack silliness and serious character study alike. Because that is what fandom is for. Having fun in a big beautiful sandbox, creating art with friends. And I treasure that deeply, even as I am forced to walk away from a space I love.

TLDR: TLT fandom is full of dicks. And not the kind I write about.

Thank you to everyone whose offered me kindness and support over the years! I truly appreciate you all. If you wanna stay in contact, it's easiest to find me over on twitter @moonblastbitch or discord (same name)

[deadforprettyboys]

2nd time EVER writing something, wish me luck!

'I Bumped Into My Nemesis In A Hallway And All I Got Was An Australian Himbo Boyfriend' by Fall Out Boy - G.Waller x Reader

warnings: banter, arguing kinda, lil itty bitty bit of angst! kinda hints towards smut?? minors dni!!

(not proofread lmao)

Grayson walked down the halls of this week's Smackdown arena, championship belt on his shoulder, confidence (or arrogance) as prominent as ever. He had no plans for a match or even an appearance this evening, so he found himself aimlessly wandering the hallways, when all of a sudden he bumps into his so-called arch nemesis, because it wouldn't be a fanfiction if he just paced the arena for an hour.

"Well, if it isn't Y/N," Grayson sneers. "I should have figured you'd be in my way somehow. Do us both a favor and stay out of my path in the future, yeah?"

Y/N meets him with a "Love you too, Waller." before even a beat can pass. "Watch where you're going, dickhead. We both know this isn't my fault. How about instead you stay out of my way so that I don't have to kick your ass!" Y/N sneers right back at him. 

Grayson rolls his eyes, clearly unamused by Y/N's response. "Oh, please, spare me the empty threats. You're not gonna do anything, you know that. You're lucky I even acknowledge your presence."

"Oh please, as if I give half a damn whether you 'acknowledge' me or not. 'Oh, Grayson, you're so important, please pay attention to me, I'm begging you!' God, grow up, asshat." Y/N mocks, hoping to get a rise out of him.

Grayson scoffs at Y/N's mockery, his expression hardening with annoyance. "You really know how to push my buttons, don't you? But let me tell you something, sweetheart. When you're the Aussie Icon, people begging for your attention is the norm. And trust me, you're not the only one who's grown up, I'm just on a whole different level." He smirks with an annoying amount of confidence.

"You act like a 30-something year old frat boy who peaked in high school but still wants to seem cool to the 'youngins'. And that haircut isn't helping, babe." Y/N knows she's lying through her teeth just to make him mad, but all's fair in love and war, right?

Grayson's nostrils flare as he grows more irritated by the minute. "First of all, I'm not some old codger stuck in the past. And as for my haircut, I'll have you know that it's a classic style. I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, with your boring, uninspired look."

"Haha, very original insult. Calling my style boring, really? You don't have anything better up there in that ol' noggin of yours? Come on, now." Y/N feels a pang of guilt being this mean to Grayson, sure, they squabble often but it's all in good fun. But this almost feels a bit too far, like she needs to lighten the mood a little. But she doesn't, only continues to egg him on.

Grayson's annoyance turns into anger as he clenches his fists, trying to maintain his composure. "Oh, you want originality, huh? How about this, I've seen more personality from a brick wall than from you. You're plain and forgettable, just like your insults."

That stung a bit. Hearing the guy you've been hopelessly crushing on for 2 years say you're forgettable? Ouch. She'd almost believe it, too, if this didn't happen every week.

"Yeah, yeah, don't forget, I'm gross, annoying, always in your way, etcetera etcetera. Admit it, Waller, you're obsessed with me. How else are you literally ALWAYS bumping into me, huh? care to explain?" She prodded. 

"Obsessed? Me? Please. I have much better things to do than pay attention to you. You're just... unfortunately always there. And if I do bump into you, it's only because you're constantly standing in my way. You're like a thorn in my side, a mosquito buzzing in my ear." Grayson tried to convince both Y/N and himself, though they both knew it was a lie.

"And I'll continue being that thorn in your side as long as I live. I get such a kick out of watching you lose your temper, it's absolutely hilarious!" Finally, something to lighten the banter a little. Y/N giggles after her sentence just to rub in the point a bit more.

"Oh, I bet you do. You get some sort of sick satisfaction out of getting under my skin, yeah? Well, guess what? I'm not going to give you the satisfaction. I'll stay calm and above it all, no matter how much you try to annoy me."

"Way too late, babe. You've already lost it once." Y/N grins. "Let's see how long you can keep up the act, huh?" Y/N smirks up at him, knowing he can't keep his cool forever.

"Don't call me babe," Grayson says through gritted teeth. "And I haven't lost anything. I'm in full control of my emotions. I may have gotten irritated at your childish behavior, but that doesn't mean anything. I can keep this up all night, so don't test me."

Y/N smiles wide, "oookay, babe, let's give it a try, then!" She begins lightly tapping him on his arms and chest, trying to get on his nerves as much as possible. Grayson's jaw tightens as he struggles to keep his temper in check. He takes a deep breath, attempting to stay calm. "Do you really think your little taps are going to bother me? I'm not some fragile flower that's going to snap just because you touch me."

Y/N frowns. "Aw, bummer. I was really hoping you'd just shatter in front of me so I didn't have to look at that face any more. What a shame."

Grayson's temper flare even more, his patience wearing thin. "Shatter? You wish. I'm tougher than you could ever imagine. And my face, you know you're secretly jealous of my good looks. Admit it. You can't keep your eyes off me." 

"Very funny, Waller. You'd be one to talk, huh? I've seen you staring at me from across the room more times than I can count. What's the deal with that, anyway? Am I so pretty you can't stand it? Do you like me so much you have to steal a glance whenever I'm around?"

Grayson glares at Y/N, his cheeks slightly flushed. "What? Me staring? That's ridiculous. I don't... I mean, yeah, you're attractive, but that doesn't mean anything. It's not like I'm... it doesn't matter. Shut up." He looks away, embarrassed. Y/N can't help but find it endearing.

"Woooow, I finally got the cocky, arrogant boy all flustered, huh? Lucky me. How cute." Y/N smiles, a genuine one for once, rather than a smirk.

"Shut up," Grayson growls, trying to regain his composure. "You didn't get me flustered. Don't think so highly of yourself, princess. I just wasn't expecting you to bring up me... noticing your appearance. That's all."

"You brought it up first, did you not? And hey, I couldn't have noticed you staring if I didn't look over at you now and then, right? I never denied it when you accused me of staring, did I?" She's playing with fire now, but it feels so good. This could go one of two ways, horribly wrong, or horribly right. 

Grayson swallows hard, feeling embarrassed at being called out. "Fine, so maybe I've looked once or twice. It doesn't mean anything. I'm not some lovesick puppy drooling over you. I just... I happened to notice you, that's all."

"Right, right, and the sky is gray. You're obsessed with me, Grayson. Admit it."

Grayson huffs, clearly annoyed at Y/N's insistence. "I'm not obsessed with you! I'm the Aussie Icon. I have admirers and fans lined up at my feet. I could have anyone I want. I don't need to be obsessed with you."

"You certainly don't need to be obsessed with me. But you sure do seem to be. Hell, you're right. You could have anyone you want. So then, why don't you?"

Grayson opens his mouth to respond, but closes it again, clearly flustered by the question. He crosses his arms in a defensive gesture. "It's... complicated, alright? I don't have the time or patience for relationships, okay? I'm focused on my career and becoming the best. I don't need the distraction."

For all she knew, it could've been the way he phrased it, or the fact that she was finally letting herself be a little bit vulnerable, who knows. But that hurt. And she chose to believe him this time. "Right, of course." Y/N frowns slightly, trying once again to hide her true feelings. "Good luck becoming the best, Gray." She began walking away, not wanting to deal with her slowly breaking heart in front of the one who's breaking it.

Grayson watched as Y/N walked away, a pang of guilt tugging at his chest. He hesitated for a moment, his mind and heart both racing.

Then, he suddenly called out. 

"Wait!"

She turned around slowly, scared to hear what he may say next. "What's the problem now?" She manages to stutter out.

Grayson rubs the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking again. "I... Look, I didn't mean to be such a dick, okay? And I don't just see you as some thorn in my side. You're more than that, whether I want to admit it or not." He starts walking towards Y/N slowly, trying to make up the distance from her leaving before.

"Grayson, are you running a fever or something? Is this a prank? Is there a hidden camera?" She had never seen him be so honest, so vulnerable. She didn't know what else to do other than make dumb jokes to lighten the mood.

Grayson laughs softly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "No, I'm not running a fever and there's no camera. I'm serious. I've just... I've never been good at expressing my feelings, okay? I always act like a jackass because it's easier that way. It's a defense mechanism or something."

"I could say the same about acting like a jackass, honestly. It's so much easier."

Grayson smirks, a hint of humor returning to his usually cocky demeanor. He takes another step closer to Y/N, his gaze still intense. "Yeah, you definitely have a knack for being a pain in my ass. But it's... endearing, in a way." Y/N takes a step back, still very nervous, but finds herself against a wall instead. 

"Endearing... how?"

Grayson takes another step towards her, closing the distance between them even more. He leans against the wall, his face only a few inches away from hers. "Endearing because it gets under my skin, but in a good way, if that makes sense. You don't listen to me, you're not afraid to push back, and you never let me get away with anything. It's frustrating, but also... kind of refreshing."

"Oh yeah? I could say the same about you." She smiles up at him, feeling a small jolt of confidence rush through her. Grayson can't help but crack a small smile at her witty remark.

"Well, look at us, finally agreeing on something."

He studies her face for a moment, his gaze lingering on her lips for a beat longer than necessary. She notices and follows suit, looking at his lips for a moment too long before snapping out of her trance and turning away to look at the floor.

Grayson notices her eyes dart away and the blush on her cheeks, a wave of confidence washing over him.

"Hey," he says softly, gently lifting her chin so that she's looking at him again. "Don't look away. Look at me." He smiles at her, a genuine one, and she's sure it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

She looks into his eyes for a moment or two before whispering "if I look at you much longer, I won't be able to keep myself in check any more, Grayson." His heart races as he hears her words, her soft voice sending a shiver down his spine. He leans closer, his face so close to hers that he can feel her breath on his skin.

"Who says you have to keep yourself in check?" He muses.

With this, she finally stops holding herself back and quickly leans in, closing the distance between them and kissing him with such force that he nearly stumbled backward. He stood shocked for a moment before kissing her back with a passion to match hers, grabbing onto her waist and pulling their bodies flush against each other as he deepened the kiss.

After a few minutes of practically grasping onto each other for dear life, they finally have to pull away for air, but still hold onto each other and remain as close as possible. After a moment of gazing into each other's eyes, Y/N speaks up. "Finally. You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." She pants.

Grayson is equally out of breath, his heart thudding in his chest. He can't help but smile, his hands still on her hips. "Oh, really?" he teases. "I had no idea you were so desperate for me, princess." At this, she slightly pushes Waller on the arm. "Shut up, I know I'm not the only one who wanted that to happen."

Grayson laughs, not at all offended by her playful shove. "Okay, okay, you got me. I'll admit, I've thought about it, too." his smile turns into a mischievous grin, "But hey, you were the one who initiated it first. Couldn't get enough of me, could you?"

She chuckles and blushes, looking away slightly. "Maybe, maybe not, who's to say?" Grayson raises an eyebrow at this. "Oh, now you're playing coy, huh? You can't just kiss me like that and then act all nonchalant about it. I know you just couldn't resist me any longer."

She leaned up to his ear, "and maybe I still can't."

Grayson's smirk widened as she closed the distance between them again. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her body against his again before he pulled away from the kiss.

"Careful, Y/N. You're playing with fire."

"Fire was meant to be played with, baby."

He laughs, looking down at her and smirking. 

"Well then, princess, let's play."

[caribbean1989]

It's Better Together - A Baby Lasagna fanfiction

Who: Baby Lasagna / Marko Purisic Request: maybe the reader is representing another country (doesn't have to be a singer maybe in the team) and after the behaviour of isreali's team (as many people said they treated them bad) she isn't feeling well and marko helps her and supports her. Requested by: anonymous Word count: 916 Warnings: some implied swearing and rudeness.

A/N: Thank you so much for your request. I have changed it a little bit, so it's not specifically about the Israeli team being the rude one, but it can still be read as such.

If you want me to write more Baby Lasagna fics, you can always make a request through my Ask Box. For more information on my Baby Lasagna fanfics, see this masterpost

It had always been your dream to represent your country at the Eurovision Song Contest. This year, your dream came true true when you were selected as the contestant for your country.

After months of preparations, the moment was finally there. As soon as you'd arrived in Malmö it was everything you had hoped for and more. Your fellow contestants were really nice and supportive, the organization was flawless, and so far you were really enjoying yourself. You weren't the favorite with the bookmakers, but they still tipped you for a top 10 candidate.

The schedule was demanding, though. Each day was filled to the brim with rehearsals, interviews and other press-related obligations. Some of the interviews were fun, others were dull, but today you had had an interview with a journalist who was flat-out rude and even somewhat hostile. During the interview you were able to keep your cool, but it took every ounce of your self-control to do so.

Immediately after you were done, you stalked out of the room and made straight for the contestants' lounge. That area was only accessible to the performers, and strictly off-limits to any kind of media-personnel. Since it was late in the evening and most of the other contestants had already finished their duties for the day, you expected it to be empty. And some alone-time to cool off was just what you needed.

Without even checking if someone else was in the lounge when you stepped in, you angrily slammed the door closed behind you, and loudly released an entire string of curses in your native language.

A startled gasp from further down the room made you realize that you weren't alone after all. You let your eyes roam over the dozens of sofa's and armchairs crammed into the lounge, and indeed found one, halfway down the room, occupied. It was Marko who sat there. Your little outburst had clearly startled him, and he had jumped up from his seat. He now stood looking at you a little wide-eyed.

"I'm so sorry about that." You passed a hand over your face and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. "I survived," he chuckled, before a frown crossed over his face. "Are you alright?" "Yeah..." You sighed. It wasn't truthful, but you didn't want to burden him with your troubles.

But Marko wasn't so easily fooled. He cocked his head slightly to the side, and gave you an intense stare for about a second. "No, you're not." He stated quite confidently. You couldn't help but laugh. Of course you had met Marko in the previous days. You liked him, and you had had a few nice chats with him, but you two didn't really know much about each other. So the confidence in his statement surprised you.

"Please, don't take this the wrong way." Marko immediately second-guessed himself. "But I think you still look... upset." He wrung his hands together, clearly uncomfortable by his own words and wondering if you were going to get angry with him now.

"You're right," you finally confessed. You weren't nearly alright yet and still way too upset by how the journalist had treated you. Yet, you were strangely relieved that Marko was here and had seen that you were still distraught.

"Maybe you should sit down." Marko quickly recollected himself. You nodded quietly, before walking over to where Marko had been sitting and throwing yourself down in the armchair opposite him. "Here." Marko handed you a bottle of water and sat down as well. You gratefully accepted the water, taking a few sips of the much needed hydration.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Marko smiled shyly. "It's just... this journalist." You shook your head. "The interview I've just had was awful. So rude and disrespectful." "Ah..." Marko understood immediately. "I know exactly who you mean. If it's any consolation, he's rude to everyone. I had to do an interview with him yesterday, and... let's just say that I was glad when it was over."

Marko's words did make you feel a little better. If someone could be rude to a gentle soul like Marko, they were just mean and heartless.

Suddenly you remembered that tomorrow you had another, even longer interview scheduled with the same journalist. "Oh, no!" You buried your face in your hands. "I totally forgot I've got to do more press with that guy tomorrow." To your surprise, Marko chuckled softly. "You and me both. Quite literally actually." "What do you mean?" You looked up at him. Marko smiled crookedly at you, giving a one-shouldered shrug. "You and I are teamed up for press tomorrow."

You blinked stupidly at him for a few seconds. You needed a moment to remember that Marko was indeed right. In your fury and frustration that fact had completely slipped your mind. "So sorry," you mumbled, "I forgot about that." Marko smiled another shy smile. "It's fine."

For a few moments there was silence between the two of you. "I'm glad we're teamed up for tomorrow." You broke the silence. "You're a good guy, and I feel really at ease with you." Marko blushed slightly red. "Me, too. And if anyone is rude to us tomorrow, I'm sure we'll be able to get each other through." "Absolutely," you nodded happily, all the anger of just now quickly draining from you.

And suddenly, tomorrow's press day didn't seem so bad anymore, because you knew Marko would be there with you.

[mrghostrat]

Hello!! I'm not new to writing but I am absolutely new to writing fanfiction and have been extremely nervous to even start doing that, do have any suggestions on where to start so I don't make it accidentally it's own story just using someone else's character names? ( I mean that in a sense of accidentally altering their personalities and other components that would be really important) Because chances are I probably won't notice while doing it and probably think it's fine. I'm really really bad at not noticing mistakes until it's too late to fix them but I have a fic idea that I think would be really cool and I don't know how to go about it without doing it terribly.

Here's a random pic I took this afternoon, I dunno just the way you describe scenes I figured you'd enjoy the atmosphere of it?

1. this picture is stunning, my god, it's giving me chills. so beautiful, thank you for sharing 👁️👁️

2, i think dialogue is probably one of the biggest components of characterisation, so linking back to canon dialogue can be a really helpful and easy way of keeping your characterisation in check. quite literally an exercise in "would he fucking say that?"

you've probably noticed how much i love using canonical lines from the show like this, even though i'm usually taking them out of their original context. as a reader, hearing dialogue in MS/DT's voices can be very grounding, and as a writer, it can keep you in line as you write their conversations.

i also like trying to create a parallel between events and decisions in my fic vs the canon. something tiny: in ATWS chapter 3, crowley orders takeaway and convinces aziraphale to get something too. in my initial plan, he was going to say no and wave crowley away/be a bit holier than thou, but when i made the takeaway food bbq ribs (like the ox rib), i realised it was literally aziracrow 101 for crowley to tempt him successfully into things, especially food. so i made aziraphale say yes, and simply act put out about it.

you'd think these kinds of parallels would be more important on a grander scale, but i like comparing every little decision to the canon, even if it's only for a moment, to think about how they'd act in that situation. it could be an entirely different universe but they can still be the same characters who make the same decisions as an angel and demon would.

3. a lot of people would say that it doesn't matter, that you can write whatever you want even if it's wholly out of character and just has their names attached to it. even though that's not the kind of fan fiction i like to read and write, it's still valid, and the most important thing is that you're having fun and being creative. basically, don't sweat it if it's not perfect.

[fruitybowl]

Okay okay so I'm gonna be talking about something I don't normally talk about but I just need to ramble.

The way the She Ra fandom treats the show (specifically the part that's obsessed with the horde kids) is really weird. Like look...would I have liked to see more of the horde kids? Yes absolutely. I think their relationship with each other and Adora could have been interesting to explore but I'm okay they didn't. Because guess what? The show isn't about them. The way people talk about the horde kids makes it seem like they were integral parts of the story that weren't utilized effectively, but they weren't at all??? Like they're barely in the show apart from a few few minute cameos in some episodes or just in the background, and that one episode in season 4 where they had a B plot. That's about it. They are not nearly as important to the story as Adora, Catra, Bow and Glimmer, and even Hordak. The reason the show doesn't focus on Adora's relationship with the horde kids is because her relationship with Catra is the focus! And arguably the most important relationship in the show. And onto the treatment of Kyle in the show and by the creators. Yes I think Kyle deserves better and a break, but I think people are being a little dramatic when talking about him. Now again, Kyle is not exploring as in-depth as the other characters so I don't think it's fair to give his treatment by the show and writers the same weight as said characters. I truly don't believe that the treatment of Kyle reflects on how the writers are as people I just don't 😂. Yes he's a punching bag...but almost every show has one. Now if he was as prominent in the story as Adora or Catra and was still treated the same then I would be concerned. But that's if they poked fun at parts of his character that were formed from abuse, and I don't believe they would do that. If Kyle was part of the cast they would have written him with the same amount of care that they did with the other characters. I have a hard time believing the same people that wrote Catra, one of the most complex and interesting characters in the show, would treat Kyle's story with any less care because he's a scrawny white guy (and yes I have seen people make the argument that Kyle is treated so harshly by the writers because he's white which is...quite ridiculous in my opinion.)

People also seem to forget how BIG the main cast is. There are already so many characters to explore that it would have been very hard for them to explore the horde kids more than just surface level. It would have made the show too busy in my opinion. And ONCE AGAIN the horde kids are not the main characters, so we shouldn't expect them to be treated like it. If you want the horde kids to be explored.more, then read fanfiction...or write it yourself.

Anyway I'm done rambling now. If you have anything else to add to this then feel free to. I'd be happy to discuss this more

[openphrase123]

i just finished this fic! it's good!

and because it's all done i want to like... be a LITTLE self indulgent and talk under the cut about some miscellaneous things that i ran into while writing it. don't click the readmore if you're interested in the fic and haven't read it yet i'm about to spoil the Whole thing.

also there is an epilogue to this fic now - go read that before this post if you're getting to this before the update!!

so!! i haven't written fanfiction in like FIVE YEARS. it's been a while! part of that is because i was doing original stuff and part of it was i was in a creative slump. so isat kind of dug me out of that and i owe it my thanks. i've been able to do a crazy amount of original work since starting this fic, it's brought back my creative discipline. in like seven years when my video game comes out you can thank isat for that probably

i originally set out thinking this was the only fic for isat i was going to write. and then as i was writing this i fell deeper into it. i kind of got out of isat a little disappointed in how it ended?? but now that i'm here i'm like ah it's fine. just cause i would have done something different in dev's position doesn't mean it's bad. it does mean i can write a bunch of fanfiction exploring things i wish had been tackled more in the game though LOL

i said this in one of the chapter authors notes but i DID start out curtain call hating loop with every fiber of my being. (as in i liked them as a character UNTIL the act 6 reveal which i thought was lame) and then i played through the game a second time knowing the loop twist and went "oh nvm this makes sense" so a lot of the loop stuff in this fic was actually written twice. originally i was just gonna have them soulmerge with siffrin and not be present at all but then i was like. no. i do want to keep this lighthearted and that's too depressing of an end for loop. i do have a loop postcanon doc so i'll go repay them for their slapdashed involvement in curtain call someday

i'm in a weird position with curtain call in that i wrote the themes and major conflicts Directly After playing through isat the first time. before i could really marinate and analyze the characters fully. so there are a lot of scenes and points where i think i wouldn't characterize certain people like that if i were to rewrite this from scratch? however i don't disagree with what i've written either - it's just an interpretation that i don't necessarily think is my favorite anymore.

neither is any of the worldbuilding i did for any of this - it works for curtain call and i think it was nice but i don't necessarily think it's my current interpretation of what the culture and people were like? i like the wishes being permanent thing, i like the language stuff, but i'd probably go in a different direction if i went through this again

i do actually still think "the forgotten island was destroyed by a volcano" is my solid headcanon explanation of what happened to it. in my heart. i think like - with siffrin as a character especially it's very important that he's always missing something, that it's not idyllically happy for them at the end of everything. so even if he can remember more from their own past, it's - you know - there's no way to go back. only forward.

in the vein of this i probably could have killed siffrin/loop's entire childhood family but i did not. mostly because i did think it was fun for him to have to explain all of those cultural taboos they broke to survive. which, of course, was not a big deal - any good parent would rather their kid be alive than lawful - but what is isat other than a vehicle to make siffrin work through every moral compulsion and spiral they experience

i had a thought halfway through writing the fic that i was stepping on the very good and beautiful odile friendquest by making the island real and having a lot of siffrin's personality dictate how it went. but i ultimately decided on keeping siffrin very close to their country, more than odile is to vaugarde, because siffrin actually DID live on the island when he was a kid and that i think is a Different type of "longing for your country" trauma than odile's. i think they can still drink over the feelings together though

writing bonnie is very fun but very emotional for me. the bonnie&siffrin age gap (preteen to late-20s) is the exact age gap between me and my niece so every time i need to sit down and write something for them i think about her and how much she's a little baby growing up. this has nothing to do with bonnie it just makes writing bonnie really hard for me

if the entire history of my ao3 account was not an indicator, i'm a very big fan of writing romance, but i did not want it to take over curtain call at all. i also could have left out sloopis entirely and almost did, but thought "you know. with the way loop functions in this fic. i should at least let that be open ended" cause sharing a body with a version of you who is dating some other guy is gonna get messy no matter what. it's just not necessarily something i had time to or the urge to explore here. think of it as a fun spiritual nod to the fact that isafrin is technically open ended in isat (<- cop out answer)

i think i'm pretty vocal in how much i am absolutely insane for the flashback "happiest i can remember being" conversation. who let them do that. i think a lot of how i worked with mirabelle and siffrin's relationship in this fic kind of revolved around that. important to me that it ends with mira checking in on him and getting the answer she was looking for all along <3

overall i'm happy with curtain call. glad i am done with it though. there's so much that's running in with it at once. i'll probably wait a month and reread the whole thing to myself front to back before i start having fond memories of this. i mean it's always gonna be the fic my nephew was born during and i'll always remember having a panic attack in the airport right after posting chapter 7 but it's gonna be weird letting this one sail off into the ocean of the internet. however feel free to ask anything about the fic, i wrote this in a lil hurry on a bad day and probably didn't cover everything

goodbye, curtain call!! i love you!!!!! i'll miss you!!!!

[looks both ways, waiting for most people to leave]

also. if you've read this far. i hope it's not too gauche of me to link my personal project. if you've read over 100k words of this you might enjoy the game i'm developing? i've been working on it for almost a year but i just started the devlog last month. it's still in early baby stages as far as a full video game goes but if you liked this you'll like the game when it comes out (similar nickname culture, timeloop trauma, petty interpersonal drama, very stupid jokes, natural disaster angst)

also there isn't a lot on the devblog yet, i've mostly been doing programming on it, i JUST started visdev i'm sorry if it's uglyyyyy (FOR NOW)

anyway i'm trusting you with that link. i'm going to use my professional name on that project when it airs don't cross the wires pretty please just pretend that's a butch-y cis woman's game <3 guard the closet door babeyyyyy