#i've struggled with burnout for the last few months and I feel like this fic is alright (and it was very cute to write) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosemaryandarsenic · 2 years ago

Text

Mine

pairing| Gareth Emerson x female reader

readersynopsis| Gareth has an important question to ask you, but you almost spoil it because of a misunderstanding. (Happy ending, DW) Based on Mine by Taylor Swift

warnings|SMUT! 18+ only as always, minors DNI. Also, the reader struggles with symptoms of burnout and overreacting, self-doubt, intense emotions, and insecurity. Parental trauma. Alcohol. Oral sex, daddy kink.

AN: This is not my finest work, honestly I've been feeling shitty so I wrote this for myself lmao. Mental illness sucks, and I don't see it often in fics bc it's depressing so I wanted the reader to struggle a little. I have Bipolar and it makes relationships stressful sometimes, but it doesn't make them impossible. This one is for my fellow mentally ill friends, ily <3 Also, Gareth and the reader are in their early twenties! The reader is in college and waitresses for work. Her roommates are Robin and Vicki! Everyone is happy and nothing unusual exists in this universe anymore.

You’re staring at the worn-down tiles in the classroom, your professor drawling on about the upcoming final you have next week. It’s hard to concentrate, and your anxiety makes you agitated. Between finals and work, you have already been stressed the hell out, on top of both your boyfriend was practically nowhere to be found. You’d called Gareth three times this week, with no answer, which was abnormal. He usually called you every day, especially when you were too busy to be together in person, but this whole week had been radio silence. The two of you had been fine, to your knowledge, except for a small spat a few weeks before. You tried not to think about it, wincing. Because of your parents, even little fights felt ginormous, weighing down on you like a pile of bricks from the quarry. He wouldn’t leave? Right? Your stomach turned, and you tried to quell the fears in your mind. Instead, you pictured the worst possible cases - anxiety fuels delusions splashing across your vision. Gareth never gave you a reason to feel jealous or insecure, but you’d never really gotten over knowing his ex in high school. You’d been there for ground zero, and despite his insistence over the years that their 3-month long relationship meant nothing in comparison to how he felt about you, it clouded your mind. Relationships were something you avoided after your parent's divorce. They were messy, even the best ones. It felt like too much was on the line when it came to trusting people. You chided yourself - you knew better than this. You are safe, you’re loved, and all is well. But the feeling stayed with you all day, growing worse as you still didn’t hear from him.

Slinging your bag into the passenger side of your car, you sighed heavily and rummaged around for a tape to fill the silence. You needed a distraction, something that wasn’t bussing tables or writing papers. A movie maybe? Your Roommates wouldn’t be home till late tonight, both working the closing shift at the diner. You started the car in frustration, feeling hopeless. Maybe a movie AND alcohol would be better. Your thoughts trailed again as you drive home, feeling genuinely down in the dumps. When it got this bad you usually called Gareth, something about his voice calmed the nervousness in your mind. It hurt worse, feeling like he wasn’t there, but it wouldn’t last forever. He was probably busy, also with work and school, and the band. You perked up, changing direction from your apartment towards Eddie’s. Eddie was one of your oldest friends, and he always seemed to know what to say when you needed to vent. Maybe he’d be home, it was Friday after all. You pulled into the entrance to the trailer park, feeling slightly better at the idea of not being alone when you noticed that another car was parked next to Eddie’s van. Gareths car.

You groaned, pulling into the spot next to him and parking, questioning your options. Go inside? Leave? They all felt bad, so you opted for the what was hopefully the most sane - go inside. As you neared the trailer, you could hear music coming from Eddie’s window, a small waft of smoke sneaking out his cracked window and trailing upwards to the sky. You knocked rather loudly, and heard the music stop as Eddie’s footsteps sounded inside.

“Who in gods name-“ he started, as he swung the door open and saw your face. Your expression must have been more obvious than you thought, because his brows immediately furrowed together.

“Hi sweetheart.” He smiled, tone completely changed. “Cmon in.”

You smiled at him, trying to shake off your anxiety.

“Sorry to bug you, Ed’s. Got out of class and was feeling restless.” You say, pushing hair behind your ear.

“You can never bug me.” He chuckled, looking at the ground like he was thinking too hard.

“I didn’t realize you and Gareth were hanging out.” You nod towards the cars outside. “I uh, I can leave if you want!”

He looks confused, “We weren’t planning on it,” he looks down again, “Um, he’s actually not here anyways so you’re fine.”

You feel a jolt in your spine at his words, the anxiety flooding back in. You don’t want to show it on your face but you’re not sure what reaction would be better.

“Oh. Okay.” Your palms are sweaty.

“Wh-where is he?” You mumble.

Eddie looks like he’d like to crawl under the table, his eyes still directed at the ground. He shakes his head, a small smirk on his face.

You’re absolutely falling off the deep end mentally, your anxious mind going a thousand places at once. You can feel tears burning behind your eyes and will them not to fall. What is it with the men in your life? Why can’t they just say what they’re thinking?

“Eddie.” Your voice quivers more than you mean it to and he quickly looks up at you, the smirk disappearing.

“Are you crying?” He looks shocked, and walks over to you with a worried expression.

“No.” You sniff, “no. Actually yknow, I think I probably should go. Um.” You avoid his reaching toward you and bolt towards the door, trying to keep your composure. This is silly. This is so silly. You wanna go home, just take a shot and go to sleep. Eddie is following after you as you swing the door open and walk directly into the person on the other side of the door.

Gareth, despite his arms already being full, catches you as you ram into him, nearly pushing the both of you off the front steps.

“Whoa there,” he says, stopping you as you push past him now, desperately wanting to be in your car and away from this mess. The sound of his voice sends you over the edge and you let out a choked sob. Jesus Christ this is embarrassing.

“Honey, hey, whoa.” He says, dropping serval bags on the ground as he sees the tears streaming down your face.

“What the fuck, Munson?” He’s red in the face, grabbing you to him as he looks back at Eddie, who’s just as confused as he is. “What is going on?”

“Wasn’t me man,” Eddie exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Y/n, hey.” Gareth is clinging to you now as you wipe your face, cheeks burning.

“It’s fine! I’m fine!” You stutter, “Eddie didn’t -“ you gasp, trying to catch your breath, “he didn’t do anything. I’m fine! Okay?! I’m fine!” You push him back, stepping towards your car. “I gotta - I…” you manage to get out before turning and bolting. Absolutely not. This is too much.

Gareth and Eddie watch, both looking totally lost as you sprint back to your car and nearly eat shit on the muddy ground.

“What the hell did you do?” Eddie says Gareth.

He just shakes his head. “I don’t know but I think I gotta go.” He replies, leaning down. “I got it though.” He whispers and hands a small bag to Eddie.

“Can you hold onto this please?” He asks, and Eddie nods.

“Go get her man.” Eddie nudges him, looking back towards your car as you drive away.

Gareth does.

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

You slam your keys on the counter in your kitchen, tears rolling freely down your cheeks now. Nothing sensible is going through your brain, so you let it out, sliding down onto the floor and letting your head fall into your hands. There will be an explanation but it’s not right now, and you feel terrible. Where had Gareth been? Why was he being so sneaky and quiet? And Eddie, was Eddie in on it? It felt like you were thirteen again, crying on the kitchen floor as your parents screaming sounded through the house. A door bangs as your mom storms out, your dad watching from the front window.

“Go to your room.”

“Daddy?”

“Now.”

You bawl harder, the loneliness crawling into your gut, a familiar feeling after all these years. You don’t want to lose Gareth. You can’t bare the thought.

Trying to compose yourself you gingerly stand, your knees wobbly from the rush of emotions. It didn’t matter, you would make it. You just needed to stop crying. Maybe a shower would help? You stand there, shaking a bit and holding your arms close to yourself. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

You jump at the sound of knocking on the front door and feel your heart leap a little. Stop hoping, you mumble to yourself, it’s probably just the neighbors wanting to know if someone is dying. You cry louder than you mean to sometimes. Irritated, you swing the door open and feel a rush as you see the dark blond ringlets you know so well.

Gareth is standing at the door, clearly flustered from rushing to follow you, a concerned look on his face. He hadn’t expected you to answer on the first knock. Silently he reaches out to you and you give in, crawling into his arms and burying your face in his shirt. You both stand like that for a minute, without speaking.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“You don’t need to be.” He whispers back.

Gently, he pulls away and lifts your face towards him, wiping off excess tears.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on, my love?”

The pet name elicits more tears from you and he pulls you back into his arms.

“Is it me?” He asks, bluntly but softly. “Did I cause this?”

Your heart aches, and you try to find the words to explain. It feels stupid, how upset you are.

“I…where were you?” You ask, deciding to start there.

He tenses and you feel your gut drop again. Here it comes.

“I was looking for a surprise for you.” He says, turning slightly red.

“What?” You say, pulling away.

“A surprise,” he holds your eye contact, running a hand through his hair.

“What kind of surprise takes all week?!” You blurt out, more confused than before.

He looks stressed, like he’s trying to find a way to tell you without telling you everything.

“Can we sit?” He asks, gesturing inside.

You move, letting him inside, and he sits down on the sofa with his legs criss-crossed underneath him. You didn’t sit, so he taps the sofa next to him.

“Baby, please.”

You sit down with a huff and raise an eyebrow. This better be good.

He can see the irritation on your face and groans internally. He’s not gonna let you in on what it is, he’s worked too hard, but he needs to calm you down.

“Listen I’m not ruining your surprise, but I can tell something’s bothering you.” He starts, wringing his hands together. “I didn’t realize I’ve been so distracted and I’m so sorry, honey.” He leans in and puts a hand on your leg.

“Why not just answer the phone?” You groan, letting him touch you. It helped, but you were stubborn.

“The phone?” He asks.

“I’ve called you three times this week!” You snap.

He groans, “shit. Jeff forgot to pay the bill. It was disconnected till last night. I thought I left you a message?”

You turn red. “Our answering machine is broken.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer to him.

“I’m so sorry.” He says again, “I should’ve just come over.”

Your resolve is starting to crumble, as you lean into him. You missed him.

“You know I'd never ignore you, right?” He says as he strokes your hair. “I could never forget about my sweet girl.”

You nod, trying not to cry again.

“I just…I get scared sometimes.” You let it out. “I don’t want -“

“We aren’t your parents.” He says adamantly. “I won’t let it happen again.”

The two of you stay cuddled together on the sofa for a while, until you drift off. Gareth chides himself as you sleep in his arms, working through the rest of his plan. He needed to be more careful, it would only take a few more days and he didn’t want you to feel like this. He watched as your chest rose and fell, still stroking your hair. Just a few more days. He hoped his plan would make up for this week.

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

The next few days progress more normally, your anxiety lifting as you finish most of your finals for the semester. It’s Monday, only one test left this afternoon and then you have no school and two full days off of work. You were in between classes, eating lunch outside as the late spring sun shone through the clouds. Rainy days were your favorite, and today had been no exception, though you appreciated the chance to eat outside. Gareth still seemed jittery, but you brushed it off. You knew now that he was planning something, but you also know better than to push it. He’d get ideas and be stuck on them for weeks sometimes, unable to focus on anything else. Your concerns about his attention being directed elsewhere were no longer plaguing your mind because you knew he’d tell you eventually, so you focused on the tasks at hand. Stretching, you took in the humid air and smiled. Just a few more hours and you’d be curled up on the sofa with your friends and your favorite snacks. The whole summer was ahead of you, with only work to deal with before your senior year of college came around. Sliding off the bench, you pulled your bag to your shoulder and threw away your garbage as you waltzed inside. Just a few more hours.

While you finished your exams, you had no idea about the commotion happening at Eddie’s. Your roommates, Robin and Vicki, were hauling ass as Eddie followed them around bossily. Gareth had finished his finals that morning and was sweating his ass off trying to stay calm. Dustin and Jeff argued in the kitchen. Steve and Max were supposed to be arranging flowers around the living room but were instead arguing as well.

“It should go here!” Max insisted, pointing at a pile of roses that had been prodded the point of wilting.

“No way, those are supposed to be over there.” Steve flung back, stabbing himself on a thorn and wincing.

Lucas sighed, moving the bouquet around for the third time in the last 5 minutes as the two of them continued to argue.

“I need to leave to get her in like ten minutes, can you just DECIDE.” Gareth pleaded, his cheeks red as a tomato.

“You need to cool down, man.” Dustin said, handing him a bag of frozen peas and earning a glare.

Wayne walked through the door with boxes of pizza, chuckling at the chaos.

“Where is the man of the hour?” Eddie called from out front, struggling to fit through the door as he carried in another bouquet of flowers.

“Don’t crush them again Eddie, I swear to god.” Robin yelled behind him. Vicki and her had been moving flowers all day from the flower shop where Vicki worked, and she was covered in scratches, a bit of mud on her knee.

Will was leaning on the counter, observing the chaos, and he moved to grab the flowers from Eddie before he suffocated them into a second death.

“You have the ring?” Eddie asked, sending Gareth into a spiral as he laughed, pulling it out of his pocket.

“Eddie, stop it.” Nancy swatted him as she came from the bathroom, rolling her eyes. “You’re gonna give him a heart attack.”

“Man, don’t stress, half the town is here to help.” Jonathan said, following Nancy in and giving Gareth a sympathetic smile. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Gareth gave a half hearted nod, he’d barely made it through his exams this morning because of the anxiety. What if she said no? Even more terrifying, what if she said yes? Y/N was his dream girl, they’d been together for almost five years and he still got butterflies. What if he threw up? What if he passed out? He started to sweat again and pulled the bag of frozen peas to his face. Wayne smiled and patted his back, giving Eddie a solemn look.

“Everyone out!” Gareth's mom hollered from the doorway, “out.”

The group finished their tasks and trailed out, moving to their assigned positions as Gareth's mom wandered to him with a smile.

“Hi,” he mumbled, still holding the frozen peas to his cheek.

“Hi.” She whispered back, putting an arm around him. “How are we doing?”

She always talked like this when things were stressful. In his entire life he’d never heard his mom speak of his problems with a “you” instead of a “we”. It was always them together, never him alone. He wanted that for him and y/n. Always together, a team.

He sighed. “Im fucking nervous.”

“You should be,” she laughed, rubbing circles on his back. “She’s a good girl, it’s been a long time coming.”

“What if she says no?”

“She won’t.”

“But-“

“Gareth Emerson, remember who you’re talking about.” She said, smiling again. “I have seen the way she looks at you, since the day she stumbled onto our porch with that bloody lip.” She laughs, and he laughs with her. The day they met, she’d just moved in next door, and had gotten the houses wrong in a panic from falling off her bike. He’d opened the door to a furious girl, hands cradling her mouth and eyes wide as she realized she’d almost walked into the wrong house.

“Oh my god I’m sorry.” She sputtered, blood dripping out of her mouth. He’d fallen head over heels immediately, and they’d been tied at the hip since.

“She won’t say no.” His mom whispered again. “Now, let’s get your ass moving, lover boy. Her parents will be here in five.”She poked him, and shoved him out the door. “Time to go get the girl.” She winked.

Over the moon, Y/N turned her face towards the sky, admiring the clouds forming overhead as she waited for her ride. Gareth would be there any minute and she didn’t want to wait any longer. All day she’d been dreaming of the sound of the rain on top of Eddie’s trailer as they celebrated the end of the school semester and relaxed. The sound of Van Halen blaring from a beat up sedan drew her attention with a grin. Gareth is always so loud, you can hear him coming from a mile away. He parked and she slipped towards the car happily.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” He smiled, opening the passenger door from the front seat. She slid in and pulled his face in for a kiss, lingering an extra minute to appreciate the softness of his lips against her own.

“Someone stole my cherry chapstick again.” She laughed, pulling away. Gareth blushed.

“I keep loosing mine.” He grins.

The drive to Eddie’s is calm, Gareth breathing intentionally slow to calm himself and smiling as he watched Y/N lean back in her seat. Her eyes were closed, the wind blowing through her hair as a small smile spread across her face. He loved her so much it felt a bit like he could explode.

“Do you think the boys will let me get away with watching Ferris Buellers Day Off again?” She mumbles.

He laughes, “not on your life.”

She giggles and pouts, opening her eyes.

“It’s a great movie, okay?”

“You just have a crush on Cameron.”

“I do not!”

“Sure, sugar.”

You roll your eyes, smirking. “Maybe I just like grumpy boys, is that a crime?”

“Are you calling me grumpy?” He feigns offense.

“Absolutely, gare. What’re you gonna do about it?” You retort, grinning and batting your lashes at him. “My grumpy boy.”

He chuckles, pulling into a spot behind the trailer to park and trying not to give away the excitement that’s buzzing around in his head.

“Listen,” he says quietly, “before we go in, I want to give you that surprise I’ve been working on.”

You nod, smiling at him. “Okay! Are you sure you wanna do that now?”

“It’ll only take a second.” He nods. “Hop out, and then close your eyes. I gotta get it from the trunk.”

You raise your eyebrow but comply, getting out and closing the door. Your brow furrows as you wait, not hearing the sound of the trunk at all, only the breeze around you.

“Gareth?” You ask. Silence. Slowly you open one eye and nearly jump out of your skin. “Dustin! What the hell are you doing?” He’s in front of you with a huge smile, Gareth nowhere in sight. “What-“

“No questions, m’lady. Follow me please.” Dustin says, gesturing broadly as he leads the way. As they walk towards the trailer, Will and Mike are waiting, also smiling.

“You guys are creeping me out.” You laugh, “what is happening?”

“No questions!” Max says, as she, Lucas, and El also join the group that’s leading you inside. In front of the trailer, Steve, Vicki, Nancy, Jonathan, Jeff and Grant are all waiting. Each of them holds a single rose, which they hand to you as you walk towards the door. The realization of what’s happening is kicking in as you see the cars out front. Your parents, hopper, Gareth's parents. Everyone is here - which means…which means.

“Makeup check.” Robin says, stopping her at the door with a huge grin and fussing with your hair.

“Rob-“ you start to ask.

Robin cuts you off, “listen to me, pretty girl. I know you well enough to know you probably know what’s behind that door, right?”

You nod.

“Good. Now get your ass in there before I start crying.”

You nod again, hugging her aggressively as she tries to fix your hair again.

She opens the trailer door and you can hear guitar, softly playing. You know it’s Eddie but you can’t see him, instead all you see is wall to wall flowers and candles. The inside of the trailer has never looked like this before, or smelled so sweet. Gareth is standing in front of you now, in the center of the room, a sloppy grin on his face.

“Hi” you whisper shyly, reaching out for him.

“Hi.” He whispers back, pulling you in.

“You ready?” He whispers in your ear as he holds you close, and you nod.

Carefully pulling away from you, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a little black box before he shuffles down onto one knee.

You’re trying incredibly hard not to cry, and shockingly, so is he. You wipe a tear off his cheek with your thumb as he stumbles out a few words before clearing his throat.

“Will you - will you marry me?” He gets out, eyes watery as they look up at you longingly.

“YES.” You shriek, toppling into him as he laughs. You hear the guitar squeak as Eddie throws it off and bounds out from the kitchen.

“SHE SAID YES.” He yells, slamming the door open. “YES!”

Chaos is erupting around you as everyone floods in, the room filling with your friends and family. You stay wrapped around Gareth as choruses of congratulations and “finally!” surround the both of you. This is the best day ever.

—-

Hours later, well into the night, you’re back at your apartment with Gareth. At midnight, Wayne had ushered everyone out, sneaking the both of you out first with a box of pizza and some champagne so you could escape the clean up. You’d barely made it inside the car before Gareth had you smashed up against the door, hungrily attacking your mouth with passion that could only come from being pent up for weeks about the day. You leaned into it, rolling your tongue along his teeth as he moaned into your mouth. He only pulled back when Eddie slapped the passenger window and yelled , “get a room.”

You flipped him off as Gareth rolled the windows down and started the car.

He visibly was in a rush as he drove back to your apartment, glancing at you every few minutes with a huge smile on his face.

“Someone’s happy.” You teased, giggling as he shook his head and laughed at you.

“I’m marrying the prettiest girl in the world, can you blame me?”

You blushed, and leaned over, sliding your (now ring-laden) hand across his denim-covered crotch.

“Prettiest girl in the world, huh?”

He groaned, leaning back to give you room.

“Don’t tease me, baby.”

“I’m not!” You say innocently, running your hand over his growing erection.

His face was all red again, eyes locked on the road as you reached for his zipper and slid out of your seat.

“How could I possibly tease the cutest boy in the world?” You say slowly, nuzzling your face into his stomach as he drives, his cock pressing out of his boxers underneath you.

He moans again as you slide your hand up his clothed shaft and press kisses to his tip.

“You’re gonna kill us both,” he whines, one hand flying to your hair as you start to pump him with your hands.

“So pull over then.” You say, pawing at his boxers until his cock is free.

He’s panting, cock leaking precum as he pulls off to the side of the road. Your hands are fully wrapped around his length, pumping away, and you lean in and take him in your mouth as he parks.

You can hear him letting out the most guttural noises as you suck, letting drool slide out of your mouth and onto his legs as he ruts into your mouth.

“S-so good.” He stutters, pulling your hair away from your face as you bob up and down, your own whining echoing through the car as you feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth. Flattening your tongue, you run it up the underside of his shaft while looking up at him, eyes begging him to cum on you. It sends him over the edge, as he grunts, cum splattering across your face and the steering wheel.

You giggle, straightening up. “See, not dead!”

His cheeks are bright red, eyes locked on you as wipe your face with one finger and pop it into your mouth, savoring the salty taste.

“Keep doing that and I’m gonna cum again.” He mutters, reaching around you for something to wipe off the rest of your face. Finding nothing, he pulls off his shirt and delicately wipes away the mess from your face, then the car. You plop happily back in the passenger seat, snuggling in as he gives you a confused look.

“My turn when we get home.” You wink and he grins, starting the car again.

The best part of giving him head in the car is getting to watch him after, cheeks glowing and hair tussled as the music blares. You also know you’re in for it when you get home.

As the two of you pull into the apartment complex, you fumble for your keys, not bothering to get your book bag out of the back. Gareth barely lets you out of the car before picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder. He’s short, but he’s strong as hell, which comes in handy when you like to be man handled. You walk inside, and he tosses you onto the sofa and slams the door shut behind him.

“Mine.” He mumbles, not bothering to undress himself before diving between your legs. You’d worn a skirt today, and he thanked Ozzy for the easy access. Ripping your panties off, he slides both hands under your ass and licks at your wet folds, making you cry out.

He hums into your cunt, lapping away as your hands run through his hair and tug him closer to you. When Gareth eats pussy it’s like the rest of the world stands still. He always starts hungrily, like he’s starving and then get slower, letting you wind up before sending you crashing down again. He angles your hips up with his hands still grabbing onto the flesh of your butt, tongue circling around your clit as you start to beg.

“Gare-“ you cry out, writhing as he pulls his face away. Your juices cover his chin, and gloss his lips.

“Yes honey?”

You giggle. “I wanna ride your face.”

His eyes get wider and he practically throws you off the couch to make room.

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he grins, “have a seat, princess.”

You straddle his face, his hands greedily pressing into the flesh of your thighs as he laps at you again, soliciting another moan.

You whine, arching your hips onto his face, falling apart as you feel his tongue along your clit again. He slides a finger into and starts pumping as you ride his face into the cushion.

“P-please daddy.” You moan, grabbing onto the sofa for support as your legs start to shake. He slaps your ass and you start to see white light spiraling across your vision.

“I’m gonna cum-“ you moan, panting.

He slides in another finger and it sends you over the edge, crying out as your legs tremble. He slides you down onto his chest as you come down from your high, curls plastered to his forehead and the chain around his neck hanging haphazardly.

“I got to K.” He chuckles, and you smack him lightly. You’re both a mess but you lean in for a kiss anyway.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you more.” You whisper back.

With a wink, he says. “I love you most.”

#gareth emerson #gareth the great #gareth emerson x reader #gareth smut #stranger things #rosemaryandarsenic rants #gareth emerson x y/n

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yuthoe · 3 years ago

Text

Midnight Sun (PENTAGON: Jo Jinho)

HIIIII

sooooo it's been roughly almost a year since i last posted (i'm blaming it on burnout, working on dnd fics, being busy with the youtube channel, and generally tired from work). but i am back with another fic and the first on the list of my currently untitled Vampire!AU Collection!

i'm planning to do all the guys i write for, by order of age, so it doesn't feel draggy if it looks like i'm focusing a lot on one group. this is also the first time in almost a year that i've completed a reader insert fic, so it might (be bad) feel disjointed or stiff at times. i'm sorry jinho, u were the sacrificial lamb

regardless, i hope yall like it, and look forward to the next fics!

PAIRING: Jinho x gn!reader. GENRE: fic, fluff. WARNINGS: vampire!au—contains mentions of blood & genre-typical injuries; mild profanity. WORD COUNT: 2,531.

MASTER LIST

---

You heave a big sigh as you close the apartment door behind you, and drag your feet towards the lifted entryway. It takes some of your self-control to not just toss your work bag in the corner, leave your toed-off shoes cluttering the floor, drop your blazer in a messy pool on the shoebox. Work today has left you drained, with barely any energy left to get ready for bed.

As you slog through a meager leftover dinner from last night, a quick shower and soak in the tub (where you almost dozed off), and your nightly skincare routine with half-closed eyes, you wonder how your boyfriend is doing.

Jinho broke the news to you a couple of months ago, about being cast in a musical as one of the alternates for the male lead, and told you that he’d be coming home late at night because of rehearsals. You’re not sure when he does get home because you’re usually halfway to dreamland by 9PM on work days, but you just figure it’s very late, considering he’s still out cold by the time you wake up the next morning.

It’s like you two are passing ships, meeting long enough just to wave a hello, and then going your separate ways again.

As you get comfortable in bed, you glance at your phone, the only thing illuminating the dark room—8:30PM. They should be having dinner right about now, so you send him a short message:

Hi, honey. About to sleep; work tired me out. Have a good rehearsal day and get home safe. Love you. <3

You tuck yourself beneath the covers and stare at your phone on the nightstand, waiting for it to light up with a notification. But your eyes are heavy and your mind is foggy, and slowly you succumb to the sweet lure of sleep.

—

It is 1AM by the time Jinho gets home.

He knows the production staff didn’t mean for the rehearsal to run this late, but there was a lot to cover and the premiere is just around the corner. At this point, later and later nights might become the norm; he makes a mental note to ask the company if he can ask for a car to take him back home after rehearsals. He somehow managed to snag a ride with one of his castmates, but he knows it’s not going to work again.

He clears his throat some as he trudges down the hallway to the unit he shares with you. His legs feel weird, wobbly from overexertion and going back and forth across the stage. He stops every few paces to bounce on his heels to keep the nerves awake.

Shaking hands fiddle with his keys to unlock the apartment’s front door, which takes a while due to his spinning vision. If anything, Jinho attributes all this to the usual cooldown after practice—years of being active (whether as an idol or in the military, or as any of his cover-up occupations throughout history) has got him used to these sensations as nothing more than post-workout fatigue, and nothing else.

So when he finally gets the damn door open, and drops his bag by the entryway, and toes off his shoes, and is reaching to drape his jacket over the nearby coat rack…

He collapses.

—

You blink awake at the loud, heavy thud. It’s a struggle to straighten out your bleary gaze as you pat the nightstand for your phone to check the time, the bright display screen once again making you squeeze your eyes shut.

Jinho is still out, as evidenced by the cold sheets beside you, but maybe the loud thud is just him accidentally closing the door a little too hard. So you press the heels of your hands to your eyes for a moment before getting up and meeting your boyfriend at the door.

“Jinho?” you call out, stifling a yawn as you drag your feet down the hall in your house slippers. “Honey, are you home?”

There is no answer—no padding of feet, no rustling of clothes. Your brows furrow at the silence, and when you round the corner into the living space, with a direct view of the entryway, you take off running.

“Jinho!” Your knees scream in pain as you drop into a crouch in front of him, unconscious on the floor, pale and sweating, face scrunched up. You pat him gently on his cold, clammy cheek. “Baby? Baby, wake up!”

A groan is your only response, and you wonder how hard it’s going to be to carry a full-grown man all the way to bed.

—

The first thing Jinho sees when he wakes up is the small chandelier with faux-glass bulbs you’d installed to spice up the living area. It’s about two years old now, and the landlady still hasn’t noticed that you’d replaced her boring old light. The world behind the gauzy curtains is still dark, meaning it hasn’t been long since he got home.

His mouth is dry and his throat is tight, like there’s an itch he can’t scratch. He groans again as he tries to slowly sit up, the thin blanket you’d draped over him slipping from his shoulder. But as soon as he’s upright, his vision swims and he drops back onto the throw pillow.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, groaning into the air.

A few seconds later, he hears your feet pad around the corner from the bedroom. His gaze lands to you, your face the picture of worry as you make your way to sit next to him on the couch.

You hold his cold hand, gently brush his bangs away from his face. “Are you okay? You had me worried a little.”

His brows furrow as he tries to recall what happened, but as much as he tries to think through the ensuing headache, he remembers nothing.

“I… What happened, exactly?” he asks, voice scratchy and dry, sounding like barely a whisper. “I can’t remember a thing.”

You bite your lip, squeeze his hand as you answer softly, “I don’t know. I was sleeping, and then I heard a loud thud by the door. I thought you just closed it really loudly, but when I came out to meet you, I saw you. On the floor. And you wouldn’t wake up when I called your name, and I was really scared—,”

“Sshh, it’s okay,” he says, cupping your face, reassuring you of his presence even though he feels like he’s being set on fire from the inside. “It’s okay… I’m here, honey.” He softly strokes the apple of your cheek with his thumb.

You hold his hand in both of your own, lean into his comforting touch. “Sorry, it’s just… I’ve never seen you like that before.”

"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry for scaring you." He has an inkling of why he might have collapsed, so he tries to think back on what he’s been doing for the past few days. “I think I know what happened, though.”

You lower your entwined hands to your lap, fiddle with his fingers as you wait patiently.

“Do you remember when I last fed?” he says, face scrunched in concentration. “Because I can’t either.”

It’s then that you see the red film covering his irises, and the realization hits you like a truck. “I have no idea.” You sigh loudly and wipe a hand over your face; you should have realized as soon as he opened his eyes. “God, I’m so stupid. I should have realized.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Jinho scolds gently. “I’ve never gone this off-schedule since the early 1800s. And because of that, I never told you the symptoms of extreme hunger.” He lifts his hand again and brushes your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “It’s not your fault, okay? If anything, it’s an oversight on both our parts.” He wishes he could lean up to kiss away the furrow in your brow, but his limbs are too numb.

"I'm gonna feel bad about it for a little while, though," you say, brushing away the bangs that cover his eyes. "Should I check the fridge for bags?"

Jinho smiles—telling you that he's a vampire is probably one of the smartest things he's ever done. "Yes, please."

"Do you have a preference?" you ask. When he shakes his head, you lean over to drop a kiss on his forehead and whisper, "I'll be right back."

"'Kay," Jinho says simply, eyes trailing your figure as you slide in socked feet towards the small kitchen.

Sometimes he wonders what life would be like if he didn't bite the bullet and tell you about his condition. It'd be doubly frustrating and exhausting for sure, on top of constantly needing to lie and hide his true self from you, which he never liked doing in the first place. When you've lived a long, long life like he has, lying is a necessity; telling half-truths and concealing intentions becomes second nature. But when he finally met someone he wanted to spend the rest of their life with… well, things had to change.

Though his hearing is muffled from the dryness of his throat, he still hears you pad back into the living area and come back into his frame of sight to sit next to him on the couch. There is no sign of blood bags.

“So, bad news,” you start. “There’s no more bags in the fridge. I checked the small one in the bedroom too, but it’s all out.” You worry your lip, not looking at him. "What do we do?"

Damn. Jinho is sure he still had a stock of bags, but it seems he's more out of it than he thought. Everyday has been a routine of wake up, go to rehearsals, go home, sleep, with barely any time to eat in between.

Jinho goes through every possible contingency in his foggy brain, but comes up with nothing. With a groan, he croaks out, "I have an idea… but I don't know if you're gonna like it." After taking so many precautions to make sure this wouldn’t happen, he can’t help but be disappointed that he let it get this bad.

But you shake your head, determined. "Anything to help you."

—

Jinho groans as he settles back against the couch cushions, feeling his bones rattle with every move he makes. You position yourself beside him, back towards him, as close as you can without crushing him.

“A little closer,” Jinho softly says, fingers slowly ghosting their way to grip at the fabric of your shirt at the waist as you adjust yourself. “That’s it. Lean back.” He feels you shiver as you follow his instructions, shifting your weight back until you can feel his cold breaths by your ear.

His hand seeks out your own, shaking and balled into a fist. “Last chance to change your mind,” Jinho whispers. “Are you sure about this, honey?”

You swallow hard and nod. “Yep. I’m sure.” You open and close your hands, trying to dispel the nerves that make your limbs stiffen, and reach for your boyfriend’s hand. There is absolutely no reason to be scared—you know Jinho is careful, and would never intentionally hurt you. You reach up with a hand and comb your hair away from your neck, exposing the skin to his hungry eyes, and tug away the neckline of the loose shirt you’re wearing.

Jinho tucks his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent as the hand on your waist crawls forward to rest on your stomach. It could just be the intense hunger, but Jinho swears that you have the most intoxicating scent in the world. He feels you take another deep, shaky breath.

“Relax, baby,” he whispers, licks a wet stripe up your neck as his thumb rubs your knuckles to calm you down. “It’ll hurt just a bit.”

The piercing pain that followed his words isn't that bad, but you still make a surprised whimper. His sharp fangs puncture through the sensitive skin like it was nothing, and the thought of them being so inherently dangerous sends a shiver down your spine.

Jinho groans as your blood floods his tongue, the initial metallic taste giving way to a sweet and syrupy flavor. He’s never imagined having you like this; you’ve crossed a line and you can never go back.

You sag against him, body relaxing as he gets his fill of you. He feels the strength returning to him as he drinks—his breathing has returned to normal, he isn’t shaking with every movement, and his throat is soothed, as if he just drank a pitcher of ice cold water on a hot summer’s day. At some point, the hand that was clutching your shirt moved to cup your chin and guide your head the way he wanted, while the fingers of his other hand entwined with yours.

He finishes off the meal with one last lick to the puncture marks to seal off the wounds. Gentle hands immediately guide you backwards to rest against his chest. Jinho lets you calm down from the high you must have felt while he was feeding, before asking, “You okay? Do you feel dizzy? Or nauseous? I can get you some water in a bit.”

You chuckle at his mother-henning. “I’m all right, Jinho. I think I just need a minute.” You burrow yourself deeper into his hold, bring a hand up to his cheek and look into his eyes from where your head is settled on his shoulder. The warm, chocolate brown shade that you love is back; no trace at all of the intense scarlet from earlier. “I’m glad you’re okay now, though.”

Jinho leans down, sponges a kiss on your smiling lips. “I am. I can’t thank you enough for this, it’s… I know it’s a big step. And honestly, I was a little scared you’d just run away because it’s too much.”

But you just shake your head. “I told you: I wanted to help. Losing a little blood isn’t a big deal if it was to help you feel better.”

Your boyfriend groans playfully, securing his arms around your middle and burying his face in your shoulder. “How could I be so lucky?” he whispers, mostly to himself. He feels your fingers gently card through his hair as you both relax. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say, cuddling closer.

And when you get the feeling back in your fingers and toes, Jinho sweeps you up in his arms and carries you to bed, promising he’d be back with some water and a granola bar. He leaves with a soft kiss to your forehead. You watch as he ambles back into the kitchen, looking even better than he did a week ago when you last saw him properly.

The digital clock on the nightstand blinks 2:09AM, and you briefly worry about how you’re have to wake up in five hours for work, before saying fuck it, and getting comfortable in the blankets as you wait for Jinho.

Work be damned—you are going to spend some quality time with your sweet boyfriend.

#kdiarynet #pentagon #pentagon jinho #pentagon jinho scenario #pentagon jinho imagine #pentagon scenario #pentagon imagine #jinho scenario #jinho imagine #universe net #uninet #fic: jinho #fic: mine #fic: not spicy #theme: vamp col

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helloquotemyfoot · 2 years ago

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QUOTE!!! 😍 12, 17, 21 for the weird writing asks. Any or all if you want. <3

Sorry this is a bit late!!

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

Okay wow this is mean, I can only have three? Ughhh okay I think my wishes would be 1) better focus because I'm always flicking between different WIPs and struggle to get anything done! 2) ability to write more in one go, I'm often frustrated by not being able to write more than a paragraph or two in one sitting! >.< I know it could always be worse, but a slightly larger consistent output would be nice! And I think wish 3) would be a better ability to chop enormous fic ideas down to a respectable size. I'm not even asking to not get the absurd epic-length ideas that would take most people a lifetime to write, just to be better to rationing them down to bare essentials so they're completeable in a reasonable time!

Any genies out there bored? Please? 🥺🙏

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Haha sorry this one is going to be a disappointing answer because I'm not really good at these sorts of questions! There's always too much and too little to talk about at the same time... way too much to squeeze into one tumblr post but I'm also simultaneously like "uh. I made up a book in one chapter. and someone who wrote a response to the book" lol.

I guess my favourite bit of lore is Brigid transitioning out of a tanistry system similar to medieval Ireland, which is simultaneously how Petra is the heir apparent and her position isn't secure. But whilst that didn't make it into the WIP, I already did a lore dump author's note about that XDDD

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

Honestly yeah there are absolutley times I've wished to quit writing. Last year (or was it 2020? I think it was 2020 actually. Time is a lie), I really genuinely did try to quit for good. I stopped writing, and I think told a few people to tell me to stop if I mentioned starting again. By that point I was just absolutely sick of getting into cycles of feeling awful about my writing, feeling it was stupid and useless and I was doing it all wrong and so on, which was something that happened several times a year at that point, and sometimes it felt like that feeling went on for months. I stopped wanting to feel that way, so I tried to cut out the main thing that was making me feel that way, which was writing.

Obviously, that didn't really stick, even though it hasn't been smooth sailing from then either. To be honest, I think I'm still affected from a period of bad burnout back in early 2019 and I'm not fully recovered yet, and maybe I never will be. Most of those genie wishes? Are basically just wishing to go back to my pre-2019 self when I could write a lot more, a lot more consistently, and because my output was greater, it wasn't such a chore to stay focused on one project long enough to finish it (oneshots to short multi chapter works), which increased motivation, because I was finishing more things, etc. I went from thinking of 20k fics as "short" things that could be completed in a little over a month if I knuckled down, to having to drop to a schedule for my main WIP (this is just within the past year) of only being able to write one 4-6k chapter per month on average, whilst still feeling like I had no energy to work on other things and I didn't get a break from it. And even that after a while became too much and I just had to take a hiatus from that fic, which could still be a permanent hiatus even though I hope it won't be. The difference in my abilities is staggering even years later and I constantly find myself frustrated and sometimes really disheartened by how little I can do compared to what I used to be able to do, never mind when I think of other people who write even more than that. (Before anyone says anything, no, it's not outside responsibilities, if anything I have way more free time and fewer stressors than I did back in 2019.) Burn out is not a joke.

But I don't want this to just be negative so I'll also talk about what's helped me move past the burn out to an extent as well. Part of feeling better about coming back to writing over the past year and a half or so has been coming to terms with why I am writing and no longer letting people impose expectations on why I should be writing from the outside. Trying to "write for myself", a phrase that has never made any sense to me, just led to me becoming increasingly frantic and self-loathing as I tried to find the recipe to Write The Correct Way. I did not and have never had the internal id or voice that other people seem to have which tells me what I "want" to write, so I do not instinctively "know" how to write for myself, even though this is the expectation created by that phrase. Nor do I get any pleasure out of writing what I want to read, another thing people say they mean by "writing for yourself". Sure, I sometimes enjoy reading back things I've already written, but it's not WHY I put myself through all that hard work and annoyance, there are plenty of stories that I don't write and will never write because I enjoy playing them over in my head well enough - I don't need to have a story on paper to enjoy it.

Actually just admitting and saying with my whole chest "yeah, I write for engagement. Deal with it" has been a lot healthier for me. I write because it's the way I engage with fandom as I'm not very good at doing other things to engage with fandom (I struggle with essays and putting down character analysis, can't make art or gifs, and I'm bad at just having conversations with people) and it's a good way to hear what people think of my ideas and characterisations, things I don't really have other ways of talking about. So just saying this is my reason for writing, being self-aware about it, has given me confidence to push back against the universal idea that you should "write for yourself" and I no longer feel like I'm broken or wrong for not writing fanfic the way that other people write it. Because I'm not trying to fit a square peg mindset into a round motivation hole (that metaphor works, right? Right???) I just feel a lot happier in general and I can actually maintain more self-awareness about how I'm feeling about writing, such as realising I'm getting a bit overwhelmed by my main WIP and deciding to take a break, when I'm not taking these things as signals I have not yet found The Perfect Way I Should Be Writing and so I should keep going.

To bring this back to the original question, whilst I have tried to quit/want to quit writing many times, I've never actually been able to and I don't really think that I actually can. I've been writing for about 15 years now if not a bit longer, and I think when the writing bug grabs you, it really grabs you. I don't know if this is the case for anybody else, but I genuinely feel that writing and writing fanfiction in particular has changed the way I look at the world and other media. I approach everything with a more analytical mindset, which I suppose to some people sounds un-fun, but to me it's not un-fun at all, it only makes every piece of media more fun to experience and re-experience because I can see how all the parts of it fit together...... or don't fit together in the place of plot holes or similar, but honestly, there's usually joy even in that, in noticing a plot hole but realising that in the context of the moment, in the emotions and the characters, the plot hole doesn't actually matter, it doesn't take away from the culmination of the character arc (or whatever) at all. It makes every new piece of media a chance to experience new inspiration and get new ideas, which are fun to play with even if I never end up writing them. And not just stories, but all kinds of aspects of real life can provide this inspiration. It's joyful, and it's something that's so intricately linked to my writing, that it's not something I can turn off, and equally, it's something that keeps bringing me back to writing and storytelling. So I might regret saying this, but no, I don't think I could ever quit writing any more.

All asks from THIS post.

#ask #answers #sorry for the delay!!#writing #burnout #mental health #fanfiction #why i write #this actually turned out to be pretty cathartic which might be why it's 18 million miles long sorry #writing has been a long and difficult road for me over the last few years and i think you can see my mixed feelings about it #but ultimately as the great robbie williams once said 'you gotta get high before you taste the lows'#thanks for the ask sora!!

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flameraven · 3 years ago

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Thought this would be fun! 1) Total words: as of 12/4/21, I've written 48,018 words! Hoping to maybe hit a round 50k by end of year if my brain will cooperate. 2) fav fic: no truer love, for the Ace Omens zine. Probably the softest thing I've written, and a lot of very personal feelings about aromantic love. 4) Favorite ship: Still absolutely obsessed with Aziraphale/Crowley 5) Crowley. 6) “I know you, Crowley. And I love you, exactly as you are, exactly as you've always been. You have shown your devotion to me, over and over and over again, for six thousand years now. You don't have to prove yourself to me.” He smiles softly, carefully wiping away the demon's tears. “I can ask for no truer love than what you've already given me,” he whispers. 7) Paradigm Shift, aka "the first time Aziraphale heals Crowley", which took roughly six months to write. I had to throw out most of the last 3 chapters and rewrite them (twice, in one case). I'm proud of the end result, but it was very frustrating to work on. 8) "One Step Forward..." Part 2 of my fantasy AU, has been 90% finished since June, and I cannot get my brain to write the last scene. I literally just need a paragraph or two for the conclusion, and I can't get it right. Very frustrating. 9) Paradigm Shift, with about 2900 hits. Although hit count in general has gone way down this year, I've noticed. (In 2020, fics would average 1000-1500 hits the first few weeks, and now they're hovering around 300-400) 10) Longest fic: Also Paradigm Shift, at 11,052 words 11)Shortest fic: be not afraid (I am here tonight) at 1179 words 12) Favorite title: Nothing that I've published, but probably either "Reach Out (and Hold Back)" my touch-starved/touch averse fic, or "Got Your Goat," which is a WIP about Crowley attempting to destroy the Gavlebocken (Yule Goat) 14) Fav comment: I had someone tell me that one of my fics was their favorite of all time, and that they saved it even before making an Ao3 account, and it helped them come to terms with their own ace-ness. <3 <3 <3 Absolutely melted me, I am always so glad when something I wrote can help someone like that. 16) Total published: Just 5 fics this year, 4 one-shots and one longer fic (5 chapters). I've been struggling with burnout and haven't been able to focus enough to finish things. 17) Hoping to finish some more things next year; in particular I would really like to complete my fantasy AU series (3 parts total). Hoping that we don't get too many spoilers from Good Omens S2! Right now I'm enjoying the few bts pics but I do not like the wild speculation fandom does when we hear plot details.

#fanfiction #writing #ao3 wrapped #2021 roundup

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icypantherwrites · 6 years ago

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(1/2) I'm sorry to hear that Color's final chapter feedback was so disappointing. I know it can feel awful when something you worked so hard on doesn't get attention like you want it to. I mean, getting feedback is one of the funnest things about being a writer/artist, so I get it. I'm preeetty late to the party, so I have yet to read it. I've been working up to it by reading all of your other stories and saving the best for last. If it means anything, you're definitely the most talented author

(2/2) I’ve come across. Your works really mean a lot to me, and, god, your writing is so good. I’ve loved every story so far, and I’m honestly so so excited to get to read Color. You insipre me so much, and you just deserve all the support. I wish I had more space because I could go on forever, but just know you’re amazing, and you are by far my favorite author. I wish you good luck on your future fics and your novel! I’ll still be here, reading everything ya got!

–

Well first off, thank you for such kind words ♥ That’s very sweet of you to say and I really appreciate it. Thank you as well so much for all of the beautiful, beautiful art you’ve created for my fics; still have that one from Hope as my lockscreen ♥

And to the second part, thank you for your understanding (this may get long, apologies, apparently I have a lot to say at 0400 xD). Color was sort of my baby for just shy of a year and a half. While I’ve struggled some with the feedback to it at points (as it is hard to continue to write something so large and complicated when it doesn’t always feel like the support is there) I’ve always pushed it out week after week with really the only breaks being for new seasons or Christmas holidays last year. That’s… a little insane, to be honest. I’m still impressed with myself for managing.

I’ve had to watch as many readers who used to comment regularly on the fic only pop in every couple months or disappear entirely and each time it happens it hurts; I feel like I’ve done something wrong, especially to the ones who upped and vanished and I still see them around site. I’ve had some lovely new regulars come in and I appreciate them so for helping to fill that hole.

But come Color’s finale… well >> I have still not yet seen many of those new regulars that I have come to really look forward to, my (vain) hope that I’d see some older readers return did not happen and not as many lurkers (of whom I know are there from hits and follows and other stats) as I thought would pop up did so. It was like throwing this giant party after months of planning and then not that many people showed up to celebrate with me. I’ve said this before but as much as I try to write for myself I write for others too and I do post solely for them.

I’m trying not to come off a a weepy, drama-y, greedy sounding only in this for the comments person; that’s not what this is about. What it is is about showing appreciation. In regards to a fanfic it only takes a minute to leave even a short comment about the fic/chapter or even at the end just thanking the author for their time and efforts. I have poured… an un-quantifiable amount of time into Color (not to mention all of my other stories) as well as heart. Writing comes from within and especially for me where a lot of my fics are very emotion heavy and based. It can take a lot out of me but I do it because I want to share those feelings, my words and love being able to let others experience something, learn something, feel something. That’s what writing is all about.

I’ve mentioned a few times by this point (either on tumblr or in author’s notes) that I’m starting to feel burnt out from both writing and this fandom and it’s getting harder to keep feeling inspired, motivated, to write. A large part of that does come from the comments (or lack of) but when I get a really nice one I feel buoyed again. So when I put all of myself into something and by the end of this very long journey I’m thinking, given the following, that there’s going to be this show of love and appreciation and don’t get me wrong, I most definitely had some lovely comments from readers both new and old, but there were so many who didn’t show, whose attendance made me think more of “a good cliffhanger chapter” rather than the wrap-up to an 80 chapter fic. See party analogy above.

And for me, well, that was just the last little dying ember to my burnout. I’m just… sad. And that’s on me; those are my feelings. I can’t control what other people do or how they react or whether they want to leave a comment upon reading, be it Color or my army of shorter fics and oneshots. All I can do is try to explain why I feel this way and maybe one of those lurking readers, someone who has been silent or disappeared for a long time on my fic or any other story they’ve been a fan of, will see it and maybe be inclined to leave a comment, to show an author that yes, they do appreciate their efforts and this is why.

All actions have consequences; it’s cause and effect. And in this case the effect from a lot of these things is me withdrawing. I don’t like feeling this way; sad and frustrated and disheartened. Fanfiction shouldn’t make me feel this way and yet here we are. I need a break and whether that means a temporary one or permanent I don’t know yet. I have to see how I feel with some space (or, well, as much as I get given my kiriban event that I am still committed to finishing) and distance.

Pretty much what it all boils down to is just… respect one another. Appreciate one another. Show it; don’t assume the person knows. A thank you goes a long way. Give all creators your love; don’t just like a piece of artwork on Tumblr or kudo a fic on AO3. Reblog it, leave a comment, recommend it, etc. Make those creators feel appreciated and, surprise, you may very well see more content from them.

Andddd if you made it all the way here, thanks for reading this very long post and thank you more for your understanding and above all, if you are one of those people who have made the effort to do so, thank you so so very much for your appreciation and love. ♥

#icyanswers #writing #fanfiction #update #hiatus

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