#might sound easy but i have basically no time and absolutely nothing to write about

[chronicowboy]

i have absolutely zero inspiration for class :)

[pinchofhoney]

be careful what you wish for

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

warning: platonic relationship, quite angst-ish, text in italics is a flashback

summary: Turning in a district boy to the authorities felt like the right thing to do for Coriolanus. But what if, in doing so, he betrayed you as well?

a/n: absolutely no one asked for it, but i'll deliver it to you anyway<33 i'd say have fun but i'm not sure i'd be appropriate here

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @watercolorskyy

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

The moment Sejanus shared Billy Taup's escape plan with you, there wasn't much hesitation on your part. It's not that you acted without thinking; it's just that you didn't need much time to decide.

The summer was scorching, feeling like an unending oven. The sun never let up, and even when you hoped for cooler nights, the heat lingered. You've gotten used to the coal dust that's practically become your second skin in District 12, but what truly got to you wasn't the clinging dirt. It was the musty scent of men's sweat, a scent that clung to the air, heavy with the hard work that defined your daily life.

Being one of the few female Peacekeepers among a crowd of men wasn't your ideal situation. Many other girls had come and gone, unable to stand the sacrifices the job demanded, but you stood your ground, determined to prove yourself in this role, even if serving in this particular district wasn't your dream come true.

At least until a certain point.

When you first arrived in District 12, your main goal was to pass your officer's exam as quickly as possible and secure a transfer elsewhere. But when young Plinth kindled the idea of a life beyond authority and rules, the seed of belief in freedom took root within you. The very thought of it resonated in your mind, sounding truly incredible, and you couldn't wait to leave the filthy district behind, escaping through a gap in the wire mesh fence.

But, of course, life wouldn't be too easy if everything just went as planned, right?

One moment, you were getting ready with Sejanus and the other rebels, gathering the basics for your escape north to the supposedly destroyed District 13. The next, you found yourself standing behind one of the empty houses on the Seam with Coriolanus. He held onto your shoulders, telling you urgently that you had to leave the District as soon as possible.

“What?” was the first word that slipped from your lips, your brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at your friend. “Isn't that exactly what we're working on?” you added, slightly amused, pushing Coriolanus' hands off your shoulders.

Shaking your head, you were about to update him on your progress when he caught your forearm again. “I think you misunderstood me, Y/N,” he said, his face dead serious. “You need to get out of here now,” he continued, and seeing your raised eyebrow, he almost gritted the last word through his teeth.

“What do you mean, Coryo?” you asked, breaking the silence after staring at him for a while, tired of him speaking in riddles.

Now Coriolanus was the one staying silent, his cool eyes fixed on you. You couldn't decipher his expressions; it felt like he was betraying a hundred feelings at once and, at the same time, nothing at all.

“I… um, there's…” the blond man started, stumbling over his words, unsure how to share the information he needed to tell you. “There's a chance that the talk Sejanus and I had, which you joined not long ago, about your escape plan, might have been fully recorded by one of the jabberjays.”

You seemed not to grasp the gravity of Coriolanus' words, so you stared at him, searching for any hint in his eyes that he might be joking.

“Okay, so what?” you eventually asked, once again furrowing your brows, this time with a bit less intensity.When a twig snapped around the building's corner, you quickly turned, thinking it might be someone eavesdropping, but finding only a small hedgehog, you shifted your attention back to the boy in the bluish uniform.

“So what?” Coriolanus repeated your question, unable to believe your difficulty in connecting the dots. “Y/N, these birds are headed to the Capitol. To the lab of the woman who’s the Head Gamemaker of the Hunger Games. And do you know what the Capitol authorities do to rebels?” he asked the question, not waiting for your response. “They hang them on the hanging tree, Y/N.”

You stared at Coriolanus, steadying yourself with a hand against the wooden building. With every word he spoke, you felt the color drain from your face.

“How… How did this happen?” you asked, trying to keep your emotions in check.

Coriolanus happily took care of the mockingjays, moving their cages, tagging them, and passing them along. As Bug left with the fiftieth cage, Sejanus burst into the room, full of excitement. He shared the good news about the upcoming package from his mother with his friends, watching Bug leave with a smile before turning to Coriolanus, who had just finished dealing with the bird marked as number 1.

The bird chirped in its cage, mimicking the last mockingbird, but once Bug was gone, Sejanus' cheerful expression faded, replaced by a troubled look. He glanced around the hangar to ensure they were alone before speaking in a quiet voice.

“Listen, we've only got a few minutes. I know you might not like what I'm about to do, but I need you to at least understand it. After what you said the other day, about us being like brothers, well, I feel I owe you an explanation. Please, just hear me out.”

This was the moment, the confession.

Now was the time for the pieces to be explained, especially about the alliance with rebels and money that he found in Sejanus' belongings. Once Coriolanus heard it, he'd be as good as one of them, a traitor to the Capitol.

Panic, running, or trying to silence Sejanus could be expected, but Coriolanus did none of these things. Instead, his hands moved instinctively. His left hand adjusted the cover of the jabberjay cage, while his right, hidden from Sejanus's view by his body, reached for a remote on the counter. Coriolanus pressed RECORD, and the jabberjay fell silent.

Turning his back to the cage, Coriolanus leaned on the table with his hands, waiting.

In the middle of Sejanus' explanation, you dashed into the hangar like a hurricane itself.

“There you are!” you exclaimed, both happy and a bit annoyed to find young Plinth. “Why didn't you wait for me? I said I wanted to go to Coryo with you,” you added, crossing your arms on your chest as you closed the gap between the boys and yourself.

It seemed that Coriolanus, noticing you in the hangar, tensed up a bit. He glanced briefly at the cage with the bird recording the conversation on the table, but neither of you or Sejanus noticed, and together, you continued explaining your plan to him.

During your report, where you and Sejanus competed over who could give Coriolanus more details, he lowered his head and rubbed his brow with his fingertips. It looked like he was trying to gather his thoughts, unsure how long he could stay silent without seeming suspicious.

But Sejanus rushed on, “I couldn't leave without telling you. You've been like a brother to me. I'll never forget what you did for me in the arena. I'll find a way to let Ma know what happened to me. And my father, too. I'll let him know the Plinth name lives on, even if it's in obscurity.”

The mention of the Plinth name was enough.

Coriolanus's left hand found the remote, and he pressed the NEUTRAL button with his thumb. The jabberjay resumed its earlier song.

Something caught Coriolanus's attention. “Here comes Bug.”

“Here comes Bug,” the bird echoed in his voice.

“Hush, you silly thing,” he scolded the bird, secretly pleased it had returned to its normal pattern. Nothing to alert both of you. He quickly covered the cage with a cloth and marked it with J1.

“I swear, I have no idea,” Coriolanus lied, wearing a worried expression. “While rearranging the cages, one of them must have snagged the remote control.”

You lightly bit your lower lip, eyeing your friend. Without any reason to doubt him, you finally let out a shaky breath.

Gazing up at the sky, you counted to three in your mind to steady your nerves. Then, you looked back at Coriolanus.

“Does Sejanus know?”

“Of course, I told him first,” he lied again, his gaze fixed beyond your shoulders without losing the concerned look on his face.

“God, what are we going to do now?” nerves took over every cell in your body as you asked another question. You leaned against the wooden building, slowly lowering yourself until you were sitting on the ground.

You lifted your head to meet Coriolanus's eyes, and he crouched in front of you, placing his hand on one of your knees.

“Hey, don't stress. You're heading back to the base now. Pack what you need, and tonight, you'll slip out of the district just like you planned with the rebels. You'll meet Sejanus at the lake, alright?” he spoke with a calmness, almost like talking to a kid, trying to reassure you.

Even though Coriolanus despised rebels — those who went against the Capitol's rules — he didn't want you to suffer the consequences that would surely befall Sejanus. He had nothing against you; in fact, he genuinely liked you. Your innocence about a better life beyond the Capitol's control wasn't his concern because you hadn't caused him any trouble, unlike young Plinth who had stirred up problems more than once.

“But won't it be suspicious if I suddenly vanish? They'll be searching for me, Coryo. They'll find me and punish me,” you said, placing your hand on his.

“I told you not to worry, remember?” Coriolanus replied, a bit sharper but still maintaining his reassuring tone. “I'll figure something out. No one's going to harm you.”

“But Coryo, you-” you began, but he quickly cut you off.

“Enough, Y/N,” Coriolanus said firmly, standing up from his crouch. “Get up. We're heading back to base,” he reached out a hand to you, which you took after a moment's hesitation. He helped you stand, silently conveying to act naturally before stepping out from behind the building.

You had no choice but to go along with Coriolanus' questionable plan, clinging to the hope that he knew what he was doing.

Little did you grasp the reality—that he was the cunning architect behind the recorded conversation. Sejanus wouldn't show up at the lake beyond District 12's boundaries. Instead, his fate would take a dark turn as he dangled lifeless from a tree in a matter of days.

[aliasrocket]

I wanted to say something for an anonymous comment about feeling less embarrassed of having feelings for Rocket. I must say I totally understand that.

A month ago, when GOTG VOL 3 was released, I went to see it at the cinema with my mother, I spent the whole movie very excited for Rocket, but right in that scene where he is on the verge of death and he meets Lylla again, SOMETHING INSIDE IT CHANGED ABOUT ME, because when they were hugging I realized I was JEALOUS, and in my mind I thought "OH NO, IT'S HAPPENING TO ME AGAIN", because I always fall for characters that might be unconventional or weird to other people , then I start looking for fics and I realize that there are not many for the same reason, or there are many where it is more platonic and I think "IT IS NOT ENOUGH" And it's more complicated for me because my first language is not English and in my language there is NOTHING. So meeting people who write Rocket the way I imagined really makes me very happy. I'm even thinking about writing some one shots myself but it's hard, I've never written NSFW and I find it kind of funny that I want to start with Rocket.

Oh my god this was absolutely sweet.

Yes!! Everyone IT IS OKAY TO LIKE UNCONVENTIONAL CHARACTERS. LITERALLY, IT IS NOT A BIG DEAL!! JUST BE YOU!!!

And I’m really sorry there isn’t much fics in your language, but on the bright side I’m really happy that you’re at least able to read and write in english even if it isn’t your first language!

Also, yeah, in my experience, besides sighing the whole goddamn movie (except for the first 10 mins, I will give myself that,) I remember leaving the theatre in a sigh and going on ao3 like “ah shit, here we go again” bc this is the 1982838th time I’ve visited ao3 for some really obscure ship or an x reader fic for a very underrated character.

And about that Rocket smut, I understand how can it be daunting and I’d really love to help you!

Ykw, let me make a quick guide for anyone who’s scared of writing Rocket smut!! But for those of you who wouldn’t wanna read some real ugly/stupid stuff, don’t press the ‘keep reading’ line, haha.

a quick (and definitely unhinged) guide to writing Rocket smut XD

OBVIOUS NSFW WARNING!!! It gets ugly guys please THIS IS YOUR WARNING I’M NOT JOKING!!

If you’re uncomfortable with heavy nsfw please turn away now!!

written by aliasrocket (89P13 on ao3 hehe)

Suitable for any smut involving Rocket! (Looking at you guys, roquill shippers. Don’t worry, I welcome all ships on my blog <3)

This is supposed to be a writing smut guide specifically meant for Rocket so I’m not gonna go into the basics of writing smut, but if you’re a total beginner, here’s some pointers to help :

the genitals, legs, muscles, brain : main places that tend to be the most stimulated, exhausted or absolutely wiped. That being said, you can use these as a starting point for describing the feelings the characters or the reader may feel in the moment.

besides the main thing, you could try to set the mood by maybe mentioning how the moans sounded like, (screams, squeals, cries etc.) and other things the characters were doing to ground them in the moment, like gripping the sheets, gripping the other person’s shoulder or hips, etc.

Okay, so, about Rocket in particular …

Yeah, of course writing smut about a fucking Raccoon isn’t going to be fucking easy. But don’t worry, as someone who has studied all 3 gotg films and slowed down quite possibly every single Rocket clip in existence (enough to know Rocket … is genuinely CANONICALLY is very particular/skilled with his fingers, he knows where he’s putting them and knows EXACTLY which buttons to press on any tech, so … definitely good at using his fingers if you catch my drift) I think I might have gotten the hang of it to help some of you guys out.

So first off, when I write Rocket smut I always imagine he’s his comic height instead of his mcu height (don’t search it up, you’re just gonna be depressed about it trust me) so all you have to know is that if he pressed you up against a wall his head would be around your shoulder blade area. For missionary, he’s probably around your collarbone.

Rocket canonically has sharp and absolutely grown out nails. No, they’re not retractible. I’ve done research on this, but if you’d like to write him fingering someone, Rocket can have his nails trimmed.

It would hurt if Rocket bit you. Like, it would fucking bleed. So I’m sorry to say to those biting kink girlies (those are me hi) but Rocket can only afford to give you or someone else some nibbles on the skin unless you guys want some serious bloodplay on your hands. This is because he has protruding fangs on both his upper and lower row of teeth, his lower ones more prominent than the top.

Rocket can, however, eat you out. Don’t wanna get too into depth with this but basically his tongue can stick out his muzzle pretty well and his nose makes for a good clit-stimulator HAHAHAH

!!! : (this is going to be a description of the average raccoon penis so skip this if you don’t wanna know about this because you can DEFINITELY write Rocket smut without having to know this so please be free) I had to research this for a very specific request (pls ily shameless anon/pos) and I almost cried out of the loss of my sanity but anyway, raccoons have a baculum bone which is basically a bone in their penis that helps with copulation, its average length is about 4 inches but can be longer if you catch my drift. The genital itself is a like a rod with a ‘spiky’ end (it’s not actually spiky but it looks that way) compared to human genitalia, kind of like a cat’s but much longer and it is a very dark shade of brown or just plain black. Feel free to use any of these for a possible description if ever you need it, though I never really talk about it in fics, especially the whole ‘spiky’ thing. That being said, Rocket should not have an issue with size, as the the average human male genitalia is about five inches, meaning he can hit anyone’s g-spot just fine.

I might add more points if I have any more but this is all I got right now. I really hope this somehow encouraged you to write that nsfw fic you wanted, and just know everyone’s got interests, it’s fine if not a lot of people irl are into Rocket that way, because that’s literally what the internet is for!

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

Everyone(Neuro divergent Writers)

i wanted to share some tips that really helped me with my writers block so hopefully they help someone else who is like me. for the longest time i thought i just forgot how to write but i didn't and i get to see myself improving every day.

this is a pretty long post, its entirely word vomit and i go on a little spiel at the end about ai

Medication.

The biggest and most unexpected thing that helped me was getting medicated for my ADHD. Before taking Adderall, i never thought that my ADHD might be why i was struggling so hard to write and it was the same with everyone else too. Id get family hovering over my shoulder every time i came to them to express my fears about my rapidly declining literacy and writing skill, all saying that if I'm struggling that bad i just need to eat better or go on a walk or get some sunshine, like my brain works like everyone else's.

I was scared at first because id been on Adderall before and it just made me miserable but I'm super determined to continue writing and when i tried it, things started getting better. i found myself actually enjoying my writing process and getting excited to wake up. I'd sit at my desk and write for hours, yeah it would take me a few hours to just write a thousand words but that didn't matter because i was writing.

Changing What I Write On.

I write most of my stuff in google docs, sometimes i dabble with notion but there's too much to customize and i just get carried away. i was reading articles to help improve my basic writing skills because i retained absolutely nothing from school besides one wale fact i learned in science in like grade six and the entire bill nye song.

if you write on a computer or phone, a lot of the times you cant think of something might be because of the blank screen and the flashing cursor. i can come up with a thousand speculations as to why but i know that trying to write on a notebook sometimes makes things go smoother. i know its a hassle transferring that but for lazy writers who don't like reading through their work its actually really helpful for editing.

Changing Where I Write

One of the biggest reasons i gave up on writing was while in school i was a fountain of ideas, constantly writing in my notebook and not paying attention to the teachers.

this is probably the weirdest one but it worked for me. usually i try to find something on youtube like an informative video or a nature documentary, hate all you want but recently i found that asmr works too. find things where there isnt a lot of stuff happening, slow talkers, David Attenborough, one of those roleplay asmr's. hide the video, especially if you have adhd. i found that when i try writing in scilence, i get more bored and overstimulated, and when i write with music too often i get overstimulated. putting on videos like these are a great middle man, its not quiet and the sounds arent too high pitched or repetitive.

ill leave you with a few of the channels i like to use.

penguinz0

theweeklyslap

[ASMR]nara_나라 shes a korean youtuber, i like putting their k-pop idol make up roleplays on. they speak korean and its really nice to put on in the background when im brainstorming ideas.

Tingting ASMR another really good youtuber, they make a lot of roleplay videos, some of my favorites are the videos with the wigs. they have a wide variety of videos so its easy to jut click play all and not get overstimulated or annoyed.

Stimuli

things like pressure or fidget toys. i absolutely can not wright unless i have my headphones on, it doesnt matter what i try or if i do something else that usually works, unless i have my headphones i cant do anything.

i personally like hyperX cloud II, i have the wireless ones. theyre light and they have a long lasting battery. theyre on the more expensive side so i apologize but they are worth every penny.

i also sort of like MOVSSOU but i dont use them a lot, they're a Bluetooth headset with a noise cancelling feature that i like to have when i sleep, but i like the pressure, i just dont like the roundness the over ear speakers have. these are still a little expensive but not as bad as the other ones.

i also found that wearing pants inhibits my writing process, as weird as it sounds, its really comfortable to just lounge and write in my underwear.

i know its different for everybody but for neuro divergent people the little things matter the most. pay attention to what you do when you wright; what time of day do you usually write in, where do you write at, what are you wearing, what are you looking at, did you eat, did you shower before. if you need to write these things down and experiment; try writing at a different time, try writing in different clothes or in no clothes. don't be embarrassed about what helps you, as long as you're not hurting yourself or other people it should be completely fine.

Drafts

like a complete moron i forgot about drafting. i didn't really forget, it just seemed pointless, i wasn't writing much so what's the point.

there is a point and its a life changer.

for some people writing is hard or it can become a burden or a chore, especially for people who share their works because theres a lot of pressure. you can say you dont care and you might not but you have to admit its a little daunting trying to figure out if your sentence is legible or not.

next time you write, i want you to stop thinking about everything else. all that matters right now is getting your thoughts on the page, fuck grammar, fuck spelling, it doesnt matter.

how do you write? do you picture the scenario? to the words just come to you? do that. if you picture things when you write just sit back and watch it like a movie, type what you see. don't worry about realism, don't worry whether or not your character has four limbs. just write what comes into your head and when your done take a break. get up and walk around, drink water, eat a snack, move away from your computer or notebook or whatever else and take a breather. when you come back read it out loud, shout it, murmur it, it doesn't matter. edit as you go, if something doesn't sound right rewrite it, if you stumble over your words try to simplify your sentence.

outside help

i really struggle with this because i dont have anyone im confident in sharing this stuff with but if you do ask for help proofreading.

if you're like me and you don't try ai. don't rely on it to do everything for you, that's lazy and youre not really writing.

use it to help simplify your run on sentences or help with grammar, if theres a sentence in your story that needs to be changed but youre blanking get an ai to help rework it.

especially if you struggle with ideas and need help, roleplaying with bots is also a good way to help get ideas organized and help visualize a situation. i know a while ago when i was struggling with feeling pressured and the stress that i felt like i was carrying the brunt of everything and i used character ai to help me visualize ideas and work out storylines i had no idea how to put into words or continue.

especially in areas where im really weak in, like plots and story pllans, ai is really good to help get your jumbled ideas out when you dont have another person to rely on for assistance. not only that but their messages are concise and organized and its less overwhelming sorting through the information.

ive been using

Creative_WritingsE on poe.ai to help me write the story guide and plot lines for the sanji fic im working on.

and i just started playing around with sudowrite to help me edit my drafts and help with my awful grammar and punctuation.

but please remember to be conscious when using ai, if its for writing or drawing. people work hard to develop these skills and get to where they are today and when people come along calling themselves artists or authors when all they did was pay for a program and type a few words into a box that most likely stole work from other people, it feels degrading.

imagine you're in school and you were assigned a project that you are really passionate about and you work really hard on, pouring over it tirelessly. not just for the grade but because its something you genuinely like and it makes you happy. then when you go into school the next day you find out one of your classmates snuck photos of your project and all they did was change how it looked but nothing else and they get the recognition for it. it feels shitty and honestly it takes the joy out of doing the thing you love.

[shslskaterboy]

hyello

may i ask about And Then there was You? 🥺

You absolutely may 🙏

Attwy is my ongoing multi chapter pegoryu fic, so far I’m at 4 chapters posted with the fifth one in the works (oops got distracted don’t mind the 5-6 month gap in posting)

Basically it started bc I had a bazillion ideas of scenes from persona 5 I could rewrite to be More Gay and push my agenda, and then I went 👁️👁️ wait I can string this into a cohesive narrative. So it went from being a bunch of potential one-shots to an ongoing story about Ren and the pressure of compulsory heteronormativity, and the Oops I Think I’m In Love With My Best Friend But He’s Straight (he’s not but they don’t know that at this point 🤭) struggles.

As for snippets, allow me to pick an excerpt from each chapter for the funsies (including the unposted one whoa go crazy with it) and put them under the read more so this post isn't a thousand miles long

(but thank you for asking I am greatly proud of this one and it's a lotta fun to write and I'll take any opportunity to talk about it)

Why him? What a stupid question. Why not him? Ryuji was like the sun itself- Ren could be having the most shit day imaginable and all of it would be forgotten after one bright smile from Ryuji. He couldn’t even fathom what his life would be like now if they had never had that fateful meeting one rainy day. No one in the world was as easy to talk to, as easy to be with than Ryuji- it all came as naturally as breathing air, and if Morgana was gonna be weird about it, then that sounded like his problem, not theirs.

“You’re not going to be alone. Ever.” Ren repeated, louder this time as he took Ryuji’s uninjured cheek in his hand. His heartbeat had picked up again, but this time it was more determination than nerves. “That’s a pretty bold claim to make,” Ryuji snorted, averting his eyes as a soft blush crept into his face. “I’m serious Ryuji, I don’t care what happens, I will always be your friend no matter what,” Ren insisted, turning his friend’s face so he couldn’t shy away from his eyes. “You said yourself that life was scarier until we met, so as long as we’re together it’s never gonna be like that ever again, I swear.”

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad- he was at least comfortable, even if his erratic heartbeat kept him from getting much sleep. Yeah, it’s not like they hadn’t been in close quarters before, maybe not quite as intimate as this, but they were still best friends- this shouldn’t really change anything. This was something Ren kept telling himself as he tried not to have a heart attack every time Ryuji shifted in his sleep, never once letting his grip loosen. He felt guilty, but it was so easy to melt into the touch- if he wasn’t careful he might accidentally end up enjoying it. Nah that can’t be right, this was just an innocent indulgence, the natural byproduct of humanity’s inherent desire for contact and nothing more. It was that kind of thinking that allowed him to relax and let his guard down, almost able to fall asleep again as he listened to the sound of Ryuji’s slow slumbering breaths, and permitted himself to tentatively let his own arm drape across his friend’s side.

“Ren, you know I love you very dearly,” she said, placing her hand gently on his arm. “You have been there for me through it all; I don’t know if I’d ever have been able to face Shiho if it weren’t for your support.” He nodded slightly, unsure exactly where she was going with this. “You and Ryuji were both there with me during the hardest time in my life, and I could never express to you how much that means to me,” she continued slowly, before fixing her eyes resolutely on him. “But you two are being so monumentally stupid right now that it hurts to watch.”

He looked up at her, and she looked down on him, and for the first time in many many weeks, he felt like there was a light shining within him. The dark corner he’d taken to shoving things in had a spotlight on it now, revealing it to be completely bare- the last shadows of doubt slithering away as if Makoto had barged in with the world’s largest feather duster and started beating them over the head with it. Everything he’d thought, everything he’d felt, none of it had made sense until now- but with the haze cleared it almost seemed laughable how obvious the answer was. 

[mmriesoftvat]

For Wanderer!

What’s a fail-safe gift for your muse?

What’s something your muse has done, in canon or in a thread, that just makes you Love ThemTM?

How important are apologies, to your muse? Do they have to be aloud?

What's a fail-safe gift for Kaminari?

THE SAFEST gift to give to kaminari is a good old fashioned book. he's very into reading, and even has his own mini library in wherever his home is. personally i like to think he carved out a space for himself in the sanctuary with nahida, but that's beside the point. kami enjoys reading a ton. it doesn't matter the book or genre, he'll probably read it if it sounds interesting enough. and for an immortal, he has nothing but time, so he'll basically read anything! it's fun and relaxing for him. so a gift of a book will genuinely make him happy.

What’s something Kaminari has done, in canon or in a thread, that just makes you Love Them™?

i REALLY got my feel for writing him when i bantered with @erabundus! (avalon is now on an astarion blog and i adore the hell out of them forever!!) avalon and i would have dash crack that turned into crack threads, that turned into serious roleplay where we developed an entire verse and had so many feels for each other's wanderers. it was so much fun to develop kaminari even more through that and develop my own voice for him. avalon and i even had similar headcanons, and yet still so different from each other.

i can't pinpoint anything specific from there, but i know i just adore the hell out of kami and he's been the gremlin in my head for a long, long time. personally i feel like he's ALWAYS loveable, but as his creator and writer, i think i might be a bit biased. he's a snarky, insecure bastard who has one braincell about half the time, the rest of the time he's head empty.

How important are apologies, to Kaminari? Do they have to be aloud?

useless. kaminari doesn't like words if they're not followed up with actions. he's been burned and tossed aside way too many times to count on both hands, so words to him mean absolutely nothing. if someone shows they're sorry and actually puts effort into it, he'll probably swallow his pride and hurt and let himself be receptive to said actions. it's too easy for someone to spit words out and use flowery language to try and win him over, but he's a very straightforward person. he's not won over with poetry or pretty words, he needs to see a genuine action that shows intent. otherwise, he's pretty much done. he doesn't have time to waste on false promises and no actual change.

[astridthevalkyrie]

my man hawks be sounding fine in every frickin language I swear(manifesting desi hawks headcanons now that we have him fr)

also did I mention that I absolutely adore your hawks fics?:)

-desi anon

thank you so much!! this might just be burnout since i'm not able to write much lately, but i genuinely feel like i cannot imagine hawks as desi. it doesn't go for everyone, i could make a case for eren and jean from aot being desi and i have thought about that multiple multiple times. but keigo? hmm.

i think he moans when he eats pani puri (or gol gappe whichever you prefer). stuffs them in his mouth so fast you're anxious he'll choke but nope, he devours them one after the other with no problem at all

he also just likes really oily and sweet stuff in general that he knows is unhealthy but he can't stop himself from indulging. halwa puri, samosas, chaat, and sweets like rasmalai and gulaab jamun (he only likes kheer if there's nothing mixed into it, anything aside from pure rice pudding makes him gag)

he can't really play a dhol but knows multiple dholki songs that most people his age have never really bothered to learn

cannot dance. thinks he can dance. during shaadis people only cheer for him because he's hot

oh he also knows how to do mehndi, and he gives a lot of attention to detail. prefers the red mehndi. he has your hand in his lap while he draws it on you, genuinely will get pissy if you wash it off before the color sets in, and as long as it lasts the first kiss he gives you every morning is on the back of your hand where the henna is

diehard amitabh and aamir khan fan. his favorite aamir khan songs include ae mere humsafar, bum bum bole, yahan ke hum sikandar, koi kahe, and aati kya khandala. his favorite amitabh song is pardesiyan. but his all time favorite bollywood song is chaiyya chaiyya because he's incredibly basic

avid coconut oil user. likes putting oil on your hair too. has never once threaded his eyebrows

easy on the kajal! we get it, you're pretty!!!!!

on the whole though i think he's too blonde for this bc in the same vein i don't think i could imagine armin or loid as desi either LMAO

[starsmuserainbow]

1OO IMPORTANT CHARACTER QUESTIONS

taken from beth kinderman and nikki walker’s the 100 most important things to know about your character. a good list to help develop a character’s background, personality, and general aspects.

(Template link here)

PART 1: THE BASICS

What is your full name?

"Lightning! Nothing else." [[ Her real full name is Lily Elisabeth Silverton, but she never tells that to anyone and it's not easy to find out ]]

Where and when were you born?

"How am I supposed to know? I doubt she'd have done it at home, so probably in some elite hospital. I have no idea when it was, it doesn't matter anyway." [[ Again nothing she ever tells anyone, her birthday is May 23rd]]

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

"Can you stop asking about family now?" [[ Mother Bernadette Silverton, head of their rich family, probably a known name to the higher-up circles, she's strict and 'snobby' and idk how to describe it, much like the stereotypic 'evil stepmother' except she isn't a stepmother ofc; and honestly I never even bothered to think of a name for her father uh... let's say Joseph Silverton. He's married into the family, he's very 'obedient' to the mother and pretty much never disagrees with her way of doing/seeing things. ]]

[[As usual a cut for length here!]]

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

Lightning just crosses her arms and glares. [[ Wilhelmina Priscilla Silverton, Lightning's twin sister. Very ladylike, studious and elegant, seems always friendly and polite and nice but is also very good at being mischievous or manipulating behind that facade. She's very beloved by her parents and 'never did anything wrong'. ]]

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

"I have some places to stay at here and there, just empty small rooms basically, but I don't really live anywhere, I just occasionally sleep in one of those. I'm doing things alone, and I spent most of my time running and doing hero stuff anyway."

What is your occupation?

"Hero. Duh." [[ Sometimes delivery girl for NaNext, a company I made up and imagine to be equivalent to that big company we all know (starting with A and ending with mazon) in popularity and being known and being big and stuff ]]

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

"I have ginger hair. Blue eyes. Uh... rather light skin. I'm thin or athletic or something body-wise. I usually wear my uniform, being red and yellow, and goggles."

To which social class do you belong?

"I don't care."

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

"I think I used to have allergies against some nature stuff way back. These days though? Nah."

Are you right- or left-handed?

"Right."

What does your voice sound like?

"Can't you hear it?" [[I have no idea how to describe voices well I'm sorry]]

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

"I don't think I repeat-use anything."

What do you have in your pockets?

"Usually nothing. Oh, this is -- was a chocolate bar. I don't normally keep those in there, must've forgotten this one. Ew." She proceeds to make faces as she tries to get the melted mass (still including a wrapping) out of her pocket.

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

"Not that I'm aware of."

PART 2: GROWING UP

How would you describe your childhood in general?

"Can you stop with these questions?" She growls. "Fine, okay, if you insist. It was horrible. It was a permanent trying to make me be something I wasn't. With all means she could think of."

What is your earliest memory?

"I don't know. I don't think back that far."

How much schooling have you had?

"All home schooling, from private teachers and stuff. Not that I ever listened."

Did you enjoy school?

"Absolutely not. How would I when it's like that?"

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

"I have no idea. I'm still elarning most of it, honestly."

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

"Yeah, no."

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

"I hated them all. Look, I really don't wanna talk about it. My mother hated me and always tried to make me into a good behaving girl like my sister was all the time. She fed me pills, tried shocks, all these ridiculous things. My father never stopped it either. Is that enough?"

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

"Free. That's all."

As a child, what were your favorite activities?

"I never got a chance to try it out much afterwards, but, there was a camp once I was sent to. Staying outside, doing nature stuff, learning things to survive and the likes, it was so amazing."

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

"I never liked all these things I was supposed to like. I never was one to get into music or reading much, I wanted to be active. Running, climbing, staying outside, being energetic. Does that say enough?"

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

"Pfft, right. How am I supposed to have been popular? There was Rose, uh Ross, though, he was my friend. He was kind and understanding and always supported me."

When and with whom was your first kiss?

"Never, and I don't need it."

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

If you are a supernatural being (i.e. mage, werewolf, vampire), tell the story of how you became what you are or first learned of your own abilities. If you are just a normal human, describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do today.

"I was out in the forest next to our house, me and Rose were allowed to stay a night outside there. We heard something, it was - we thought back then - a bear, and we started running, and my speed kicked in and I ran way further than I ever thought. By now, I'm pretty sure it was no actual bear though, there's no way it would be so close to our house without her knowing." Snickering, Lightning added: "It was probably another scheme of my mother, to get me out of the idea of wanting to be more outside and camp and the likes. If so, I'm really glad that my abilities activated there, serves her right that it backfired that badly."

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

"What I just mentioned. That my abilities kicked in and finally granted me that freedom I was so much longing for."

Who has had the most influence on you?

"Probably back then, Rose. Nanette helped me afterwards, though I'm not sure I'd call her an influence."

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

"I... don't think I achieved much so far, really."

What is your greatest regret?

"... I left Rose alone there."

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

"I don't think I ever did anything evil."

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

"I hope not."

When was the time you were the most frightened?

"Probably there before my abilities kicked in."

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

"Forget it."

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

"I would like to have taken Rose with me, back then."

What is your best memory?

"Once I understood what was going on, running with my speed. Just the wind and everything rushing by, the complete freedom."

What is your worst memory?

"Some of what my mother tried back home. Now stop bringing these things up."

PART 4: BELIEFS & OPINIONS

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?

"Meh, optimistic, I guess? Neither really."

What is your greatest fear?

"Losing my speed."

What are your religious views?

"Don't have any."

What are your political views?

"None here either."

What are your views on sex?

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?

"I should be able to, yeah, probably. I uh, don't think I'd find it acceptable anytime though."

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?

"Hurting children. Also, obviously, trying to shape children against what they are."

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?

"Not really, no."

What do you believe makes a successful life?

"Being free, being able to be yourself and do what you want to do. Perhaps be known too, but that's not as important."

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?

"I don't really hide who I am, so I'm open I guess?"

Do you have any biases or prejudices?

"Against the rich."

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?

"Under any circumstances? I don't know. Depending on just how grave things are, I can imagine everyone would drop any limits."

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?

"I'd rather not."

PART 5: RELATIONSHIPS W/OTHERS

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?

"I tend to keep a distance. Pretty sure it's better to not get too attached and bring someone into the risk of being a target for someone that'd want to hurt me."

Who is the most important person in your life, and why?

"I don't think I can name anyone."

Who is the person you respect the most, and why?

"Again I can't think of anyone. Could name the known speedster heroes, but that's probably something else than respect."

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.

"I don't really do friends much. I have Nanette, she's always busy but has a good heart, and I've met some other heroes and bonded with them, but that's it."

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.

"Nope."

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.

"Honestly, I hope I'll never be. It sounds complicated, and confusing."

What do you look for in a potential lover?

"I don't look."

How close are you to your family?

"I don't have any family."

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?

"No, and I'm not interested in that. I like my freedom too much."

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?

"I... don't know. Some of the other heroes I've met."

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?

"Same answer as last question."

If you died or went missing, who would miss you?

"I doubt anyone would."

Who is the person you despise the most, and why?

"I could only name my mother, because of all she did, but, I prefer to say I don't have a family, so, no one."

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?

"I'm pretty stubborn, I've been told, so I think avoiding conflict isn't really my thing."

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?

"Not really."

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?

"Meh, it's fine either way. I'm not sticking around long most of the time, anyway."

Do you care what others think of you?

"Not really, no."

PART 6: LIKES & DISLIKES

What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes?

"I like to run. That's pretty much all I do. Oh, and eating."

What is your most treasured possession?

"I... don't really have anything that special."

What is your favorite color?

"Red."

What is your favorite food?

"It's varying very much depending on the moment and where I am. Pizza is always great though."

What, if anything, do you like to read?

"I don't read stuff."

What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?

"I don't care for any of those things, honestly."

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?

"Not doing anything of the sorts, although I'm not sure it would even work on me anyway."

How do you spend a typical Saturday night?

"Like most days, I run through cities and lands and see if I can help anywhere."

What makes you laugh?

"Good jokes? I like to jumpscare people sometimes by suddenly being there, that too."

What, if anything, shocks or offends you?

"Nothing I can think of."

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?

"I'd go running, duh."

How do you deal with stress?

"Again, I run and run and eventually I'll have gotten rid of it."

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?

"Way more spontaneous."

What are your pet peeves?

PART 7: SELF IMAGES & OTHER

Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?

"I have no real routine, I don't even usually keep track of what time it is."

What is your greatest strength as a person?

"My superspeed, obviously."

What is your greatest weakness?

"As if I would tell that to anyone."

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

"I'd like to actually not have a family."

Are you generally introverted or extroverted?

"Extroverted! No reason to be shy."

Are you generally organized or messy?

"Definitely messy, I'm not really in charge of keeping anything that would even need organizing though."

Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.

"I'm good at: Running! Uh... helping others? I can't think of another thing that isn't repeating these two.

I can't swim, so that's one thing. I don't feel the need to be able to, either, though. Having patience is another thing I'm bad at. And... hmm. Music. Making, moving to it, anything in regards to music."

Do you like yourself?

"Yeah."

What are your reasons for being an adventurer (or doing the strange and heroic things that RPG characters do)? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…)

"I do heroing because I like the excitement of it. Also of course to help and protect others."

What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?

"I don't have any endtime goal."

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

"Like, still doing the same things?"

If you could choose, how would you want to die?

"Preferably someway fast. No long suffer or that nonsense."

If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.

"I don't know, uh. Do another tour of sunsets, probably, try to locate some of the people I met and say goodbye, and eat some of the best foods I've tasted so far again."

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?

"For being a hero, if anything."

What three words best describe your personality?

"Impatient? Fast, and uh, I don't know. Happy?"

What three words would others probably use to describe you?

"How am I supposed to know that? I'd hope something similar, if at all."

If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character? (You might even want to speak as if he or she were sitting right here in front of you, and use proper tone so he or she might heed your advice…)

The only thing I'd really have to suggest to her is that she'd allow herself to bond with people more. It's one thing to always rush from one situation to another, which might also not be exactly healthy but nothing I'd advise her to stop that urgently, but at least having some friends wouldn't hurt, and it would give her more of a place to go to when she doesn't want - or can't - keep running.

[ladyshandioftheendless]

Aw shit! Here we go again! I absolutely HAD to write a story like this one for Jamie too! I swear these two are growing on me like fungus! Enjoy!

Jamie x your World Tour OC (any gender/sexuality you like~)

You're looking forward to training with Luke tomorrow. Maybe he'll kiss you again. Maybe you can even shower together. That thought excites you beyond belief. So much so that you don't even notice that you've caught the attention of some...unsavory individuals. One person alone walking the dangerous streets of China Town by themselves? At night? Easy target. They stay close behind until they find the perfect place to ambush you. As they surround you, you have to keep yourself from laughing. They look absolutely ridiculous. Just a bunch of punks with boxes on their heads. But when they had numbers..like they did now, they could easily overpower one person. Thanks to your training you could take on one or two..maybe three. Definitely not twenty. They close in, laughing like idiots. Thinking they're going to get a quick score. That's what they think.

"Really don't think I'm likin' these odds!"

You freeze. So does everyone else.

Who the hell said that?

You see nothing but a blur of yellow streak past you. You're struck speechless as you watch this guy start laying out the box heads. Try as they might to attack him, none of them can touch him. He's swift. Light on his feet. He dances around them, effortlessly dodging their attacks. You stifle a laugh when you see his long braid smack a few of his attackers in their boxy faces. He has the moves of a break dancer, easily dropping onto his side and spinning around, his legs knocking anyone who tries to get close to him off their feet and sending them crashing to the ground. Clearly they've had enough humiliation. They scramble off the ground and run away. He laughs. "So much for the mighty Canary Crate Gang! Can't even take out one guy!"

You can't help but snort. Maybe one regular guy. This guy was on a whole other level. He was...very impressive, as was that crop top of his showing off those very impressive abs. You shake your head. Why is your mind wandering like this? He straightens himself and takes a drink from the gourd tied to his waist. "Damn losers. You okay?"

"Huh..?" You then realize that he's talking to you. "Oh..yes, I'm fine."

"Shaken up, huh? Not surprised. Those bozos are good at that."

"I appreciate what you did. I could never take on that many."

"You a fighter?"

"I mean..I just started training a few days ago. I know some basics..that's about it."

"So you haven't discovered your own style yet. don't you worry..I'm sure a cutie like you can come up with one in no time~"

You haven't been confident in your own abilities lately, so his compliment is nice to hear. "T-thank you~"

"In the meantime, you can count on me, Jamie Siu, for protection~"

Now that he's right next to you, you can finally get a good look at him. He has a very handsome face. Beautiful, dark eyes, with red lined lids. A confident smile. Confidence that was well founded from what you just witnessed. He's obviously studying you as much as you're studying him. "Hm..with someone as adorable as you, I'm gonna have my work cut out for me~"

"Sounds like you think I'm not gonna be an easy job."

He shrugs. "Doesn't bother me. I'm not afraid of hard work~"

His wink makes your heart flutter.

"Why don't I start off with bein' your escort home?"

"You'd really do that? What a gentleman~"

"Nobody knows this town better than me, plus with me around..no attacks~"

That did sound like a major plus, and having a guide as good looking as Jamie didn't seem like a bad thing either. Living in China Town would be a lot more exciting with him around~

~END~

[kedreeva]

Fanfic Writer asks (if you haven't answered these ones already): 8, 16, 21

8) Do you take inspiration from real life? If so how do you incorporate it into your fics?

Most of my fics aren't based on anything in real life, like nothing happens to me and I think oh I gotta write a fic about this happening to someone. BUT what I do a LOT is lob in little details. When a character needs a hobby, it's one I like (even if it's not one I do). If a character needs a little childhood story, sometimes it's one of my own. If you've ever thought some quirk or detail of a side character in one of my stories made them feel more like a person.... it's probably one of these sorts of add-ins.

16) Do you have a method for getting characters to sound/feel in character?

Embarrassingly, yes. In my head I call it the Lasagna Effect. I cannot believe I'm going to admit to this but here we go.

When I make lasagna, I imagine my favorite version, the one I make myself for me only. I know what ingredients go into this lasagna. I know how long it takes to bake. I know what it will taste like. I know what side dish I like best with it. Every actual lasagna I make can be compared to the imaginary ideal of this lasagna in my head. In this way, it becomes easy to ask myself "does this lasagna have cheese?" and the answer is yes. "Does this lasagna have meat?" the answer is no.

I do the same thing for the characters. I know what goes into the character, I know what they are made of, how they were made etc. Any time I might question the character's actions or words or whatever, I compare them to the base in my head, and ask if that's a property of this lasagna or not.

Which is, you might think, just like asking yourself "would this character say/do that" but the distinction for me is that there are like a thousand ways to make lasagna, and they are ALL lasagna. And some versions of lasagna I absolutely HATE. Some are basically the same as mine; maybe they have all the same ingredients and layers and cook time even, but use a different brand of sauce or something. But they are ALL lasagna, they are all correct versions. Anyone can say "yeah that's lasagna" because it probably fits someone's take on it.

But the point isn't to match any take. The point is to ask if it matches MY take of it, consistently. The question isn't "is this lasagna" but "does this match MY lasagna?" For original characters this helps me keep the character consistent at least. For fanfiction.... well, I guess it depends on how close your version is to the original recipe, if that's even what you want to do.

21) (2) What is your favorite fic of yours?

I'm cheating, but I have two and for different reasons.

The first is a good omens fic, If We've Got Nothing (We've Got Us). Absolutely love the style i used with this one. It came out precisely how I wanted, eventually, and has a quiet, ethereal, peacefulness to it. It is nice to relax to.

The second is a teen wolf sterek fic, The Final Pack. This sucker took 9 years of my life, it's 425k of High Adventure in the apocalypse, it's thick with plot and Beasts. I'm currently scraping the serial numbers off, re-writing it to be an original story because I loved it so much that even after so many years, I still don't want to leave it. It is not nice to relax to- you get a little ways in and suddenly you look up and it's three days later and you've done nothing but Consume This Story. I know because it happens to me even though I know damn well what happens next.

[bloodiedrogue]

you might refuse to answer my anon message but i'd rather communicate that way for my own safety bc your kind of people tend to send people 💀 threats when they feel the need to get defensive or when they have nothing else to say so they sink to that level of insults. i didn't insult your friend, all i told her was to stop complaining (not getting interaction) over something she willingly chose to do (write fics). if that is insulting to her then she really needs to outgrow that child mentality and entitlement. maybe it stems from something else but idc. i wasn't talking about anything other than her complaining over not getting a round of applause for subpar writing. once again, good day. 💋

oh my god, so sorry my fucking liege for sleeping instead of responding to your message right away. jesus christ.

first, i'd like to preface this message by saying i will never be the kind of person to stoop to the level of death threats. no one deserves that. however, i will stoop to the level of arguing with a faceless entity because some people like yourself deserve a good ol' reality check on how the internet works, and how sending shit like this can be harmful to one's mental health.

because you claim this isn't about mental health. it's about entitlement, which babes, is all i see coming out of your mouth. like, yes, you're a writer like all of us and oh my god, yes, unlike you i don't ask for comments or reblogs! wow, good for you! at least one time in your life you've known when to shut the fuck up!

so why can't you practice that in this situation? why can't you, instead of coming for other writers and acting all high and mighty and tearing them down, can't you just shut the fuck up and stay in your line? or better yet, if you do decide to swerve into oncoming traffic why can't you identify yourself? why can't you put a username to face so that we can see who the absolutely shitstain who's sending all this hate is?

it's because you're a coward, and a very entitled one at that because you think your opinion should matter. that, they way someone produces and interacts with their own content should suddenly be about you and how you feel.

WELL, FYI IT DOESN'T. people can do whatever the fuck they want which means, yes, obviously you can come into people's inboxes and say whatever you want with little consequence. you can pick and choose who to bully because that's your prerogative. 

however, that doesn't excuse your behaviour. that doesn't excuse the fact that the language you use in your posts is harmful and gross. that doesn't excuse the amount of damage you do when you jump on anon and write the absolute filth to these people who, most likely, use tumblr as an escape.

because half the shit you say doesn't make sense. to quote something, if i may (and i will, this is my tumblr and i curate my own experience -take note)

if she truly wants a standing ovation for basic ass fics, perhaps she should become a real author and actually have fans who give a damn about her work and will praise her for it.

ah yes, the ol' become an author like it's easy. do you understand how stupid you sound telling someone their writing "sucks" and then telling them to write a book in the same sentence? do you know how hard it is to write a book? to just lay down a couple thousand works and gain a fandom? it's not fucking easy. and for you to just be so blase about it is ridiculous because this is exactly what authors like us (not you, you special little snowflake) are talking about when we "beg" and "plead" for interaction.

you may be fine being this writer who's silent about when and how they get activity but some people just aren't. some people need to have that sense of community. to have comments and reblogs and to gain that feeling that they've made something special. we all feel that way from time to time when we post a fic. we crave the praise at least a little bit because we've literally created something! we've sat down and typed and made this cool thing, so why wouldn't we want to hear about it? why wouldn't we want someone to stumble upon it and say "wow good job!"

so for you to come into people's spaces and judge how it is they're asking for the bare minimum that's deserved of creators is selfish. because it literally has nothing to do with you.

and i know you probably don't give a shit. obviously you're just going to read this message and laugh and pick apart how wrong i am to develop a counter argument. it's what everyone fucking does when they think they're in the right.

so, i'll just end this by saying i'm here if you ever need to talk, but only off anon.

[majorbaby]

What is it like writing a story that nobody asked for?

humbling: being unpopular is a kind of an enforced boundary. you want so badly to be liked or appreciated or ‘make something good’ but there’s a distance you can’t overcome because of something you can’t control, which is other people's reactions to you… tbh I’m not great at setting boundaries so having one put in place for me is better than nothing. it’s healthy for me to assume that I’m making something that cannot be good or that people will either not like or be neutral towards. there’s nobody left to write it for except myself. 

therapeutic: in the past, making something that is doomed to be bad because it's a flawed concept, or I’m working with subpar tools, wouldn’t just be something I would run away from, it’d be something I’d openly scorn. I hate the ‘low art/high art’ binary for how oppressive it is, but I’ve found that a lot of quiet despair can be soothed by committing 10000000% to leaning into the thing that oppresses you - if you have the safety to do so. I find so much relief and joy from leaning into the degeneracy/ugliness/undesirability/otherness thrust upon me, i think that is the point of 'reclamation'. I’m making art so low it is basically in hell and i’ve accepted it’s going to be cracky and unrealistic and if i try hard enough, perhaps even objectively bad

i am also a recovering workaholic, and the slightest hint that I might be ‘adding value’ by doing something makes my brain vibrate happily, distracting me from my wellbeing so that i am free to work myself to the bone to produce the value-adding product - i am used to being rewarded for this behaviour (which only makes my brain vibrate harder the next time) so much so that it became the way i approached any kind of labour. So this is part of the treatment plan, to try to unlearn something that was causing me harm. though I’m normally one of those everything-has-inherent-value types, it's easy enough to forget about that when it comes to oneself - that actually benefits me here. again, it is healthy for me to work from a place of ‘absolutely nothing is riding on this, there are 0 stakes’ sometimes and i would recommend that experience to everyone. 

fun: I’ve made lots of stuff that people in my surroundings have raved about and it has often sucked ass the entire time/gave me actual mental illness/actively ruined my life. this write-up makes me sound like a tortured artist but truthfully, i’m a lot happier than i’ve been in my whole life in no small part thanks to how much stuff i’ve been able to make this year and how much i’ve enjoyed doing it. If this were to stop being fun consistently, i wouldn't do it anymore. 

lonely: yeah, it can be. but there’s my friends who always support whatever weird thing i’m up to so long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. and there’s you, who cared enough to send me this ask.

[acapelladitty]

This may be really really vague, but if it is please do whatever you want for it - I absolutely adore everything you write but ESPECIALLY when it has something to do with being in a relationship with eddie, whether this be SFW or NSFW i love domestic shit, (maybe even vanilla i might say - embarrassing ik) but sometimes i love nothing more than reading about eddie and reader being really soft with eachother. So basically what I’m asking is just for some good old domestic sfw and nsfw shit, real ooey gooey stuff, i need it to keep me going through revision!

This might make no sense but if it does I adore you bcos I love your writing and this would make my year <3

Please enjoy this short and sfw drabble involving sharing a bath with Edward 👀 and thank you very much for the lovely message!

Adjusting the warmed metal of the tap with the side of your arch, the gush of heated water is quickly reduced to a light trickle as you adjust your foot quickly back into its comfortable spot against the edge of his outstretched legs.

The bathtub was surprisingly large given the size of his tiny apartment but it had still proven to be a real struggle to fit both of the bodies which currently reclined within the cheap plastic in a manner which left both parties comfortable.

Your back was raised slightly against the end of the bathtub, legs spread wide to accommodate the larger body which lay flat between them as Edward used the opportunity to make contact with as much of your skin as possible.

His long body was barely suited to the bathtub at the best of times and, with your added mass, his legs were left sticking out over the edge as his six-foot frame enjoyed lounging against your chest. The tickle of his hair as it rests between your rounded breasts makes your nose twitch and you adjust his head gently to ease some of the irritation.

The faint sound of the radio filtering through from the open bathroom door is the only noise within the room aside from the faint rush of the tap as you both enjoy the moment of rare peace.

Slipping your hands up past his neck, your fingers sift through his wet hair, nails scratching at his roots gently, and the action draws a long sigh from his lips.

"I won't get used to it." He mutters quietly over the sound of the faint running water, eyes remaining gently closed as he speaks.

"To what?"

"To having someone put their hands on me without trying to hurt me."

A sad confession; one which you can see has shaped the man before you, from choirboy to monster, murderer to lover.

"Pass me the shampoo."

He did not appreciate pity and you wouldn't disgrace him with it, so a mild distraction is in order as he follows your instructions and passes the rounded bottle over his shoulder.

Squirting out a generous layer of the pearlescent liquid into your palm, the scent of cheap strawberry wafts gently from the lather as you apply it to his wettened hair; the naturally sandy colour appearing several shades darker due to the moisture.

A low rumble of satisfaction purrs from his chest as your fingers set to work pushing his hair back from his hairline as you massage the lather into his scalp. Every soft scrape of your nails across the crown of his skull draws a shiver from his body and you can see the gooseflesh of his skin as he leans into your touch almost desperately.

It is uncommon to see his expression so peaceful as his head lays flat against your chest and the relaxation of his features is typically reserved only for those fleeting minutes of fitful sleep before the nightmares take hold of him.

Such sweetness made it easy to forget the poison which lurked just below the surface.

[youandtom2]

Hey I saw that your quick stables are open. I was wondering if you would do a continuation of ‘Big Brother Is Watching’? Absolutely no pressure, totally fine if you don’t want to write it!

The Great Escape (dark!tom holland)

a/n: This isn't a drabble nor is a continuation. It's more of a 4.1K extension of Big Brother's Watching that's been sitting in my drafts for ages! So thank you for giving me the motivation to finish it! I'm still accepting drabble requests!

Read 'Big Brother's Watching' // MASTERLIST tw: domestic/physical abuse - read at your own risk!

Not once had you ever thought he could become such a monster. A creature blinded by insecurity but yet powered by control. You can't even describe him as a human anymore, because there is nothing humane about what he does to you. And sadly, you could probably say the same thing about yourself; the way you are being treated is far from the standard care of basic human rights. Being held captive in austere conditions as a confined animal; that is what you must become in order to survive.

You've lost the ability to love, but yet that's all he wants from you. At first it was natural, it was easy to love his modest personality that enticed you the moment you met him. As well as his charming looks. And nothing could stop you indulging in his chocolate gems that he has been blessed with since birth. He was always craving your love and attention and you tried your best to provide, but it became increasingly worrying how, and how often, he would chase after your affection. Others considered it sweet, but you found it exhausting at times. That's when things started to change; when doubt was introduced and it diseased your mind, telling you that you couldn't love this man anymore for the person he had become: volatile, desperate and conniving.

At the time, the signs were transparent and not enough for you to translate. But it was too late by the time you were able to decipher them. He already had you trapped.

"Love? I'm home!" Tom's voice echoes down the corridor and into your room. Well, you say your room, but it's really his. He just keeps you there.

You recognise the snide facade laced in his tone of voice; it's fake and he knows it's fake. Then come his trudging footsteps, bouncing down the corridor on his way to see you. Fear laced with utmost hatred spikes through your veins at the second the doorknob turns. In your corner you watch as he makes his way into the room, making sure to close the door behind him and in one split second, silence falls and there's nothing but empty air between him and you.

"Love," he murmurs deeply, his pet name for you being used far from its true meaning. "Aren't you going to welcome me home?" He spreads his long arms, standing there as if waiting for gold to rain down on him. You meekly stand up, nimble limbs aching from injuries as you shuffle closer to him, preparing yourself to be engulfed by him. As you approach him, his impatience closes the gap between you and his arms snake around your waist, squeezing you just that little bit tighter. "That's better." Being so close to him, the internal sound of his low husky voice reverberates through your hollow body. It's haunting to say the least.

As if in response, your body murmurs back to him, except it's your stomach and not your voice. Your empty stomach yearns for food.

"Hungry, darling?"

"Yes," you whisper. His arms uncoil themselves, but he still has a lock on you.

"Good, because Harrison and his girlfriend have asked us to dinner," he announces. He sinks his head lower, just enough that his lips delicately skim the corner of your ear. A wicked grin dons his face, you don't even need to see it to know. "If you behave I might let you get dessert. Remember, love- "

"I know," you spit distastefully. You already know the deal: if you happen to give away as much as an inkling about your situation to anyone, there will be trouble. If you dare to stray from the act, there will be trouble. If you say one word out of place, there will be trouble. Why? Well you are his girlfriend after all, why would you be begging for help? He is aware that if he doesn't let you out to see people, they would get suspicious. He's taking his pet out on a leash. 

Before you get his permission to move, he slides his hand underneath your jaw and his fingers curl around your chin, guiding him up to you.

"Watch that pretty, little mouth of yours," he moans, inching closer to steal a kiss from you. The only thing you're thankful for is that the kiss isn't too assertive. Ironically, they're gentle but compassionate. Maybe that's just part of his strategy to make you fall for him like you once did years ago, but given the circumstances, nothing could persuade you to do such a thing.

He hums into the kiss, snaking his arm back around your waist whilst you wait for it to be over. "Go and get yourself ready."

The clock ticks on as you patiently wait by the door for him, like a dog waiting to be walked. You can't bear to think of the humiliation if anyone were to see you like this; submissive, helpless, dependent. What's worse is that they would continue living not knowing that this was never your choice. Despite your desperation for redemption, you would scoff at people advising to 'just walk away' because it's never that simple. If it was, you would've walked away a long time ago. Unfortunately he's just too clever.

"Love," he beckons. Stop calling me that! "Be good for me, please. You don't want to ruin it for yourself, do you?"

You shake your head. Accepting your response as the correct one, he plants a kiss on your forehead.

"You know I only do what's best for you. For us." If only that were true. Tom swiftly guides you out of his home and your prison before you can protest. 

The restaurant was Harrison's choice, a lovely one too. Tom would never bring you to a place like this. It's magical. Across the table sits the power couple that is Harrison and his girlfriend. You can't help but gawk at the way they look at each other endearingly...but it's in that same moment that the pang of jealousy convinces you to look the other way. Tom was once like that, and as afraid as you are to admit it, you were too. Now there's nothing. You're hollow. 

The food arrives and the mesmerising meal in front of you has your mouth salivating. 

"God, I'm starved," you mumble. Your audience shares chuckles at your passing comment. It isn't a joke but they don't know that. You didn't spare a thought of the repercussions until after the words slip from your mouth, because now it has gained you your warning for tonight. Tom rests his hand on your thigh, curling his fingernails into your skin. You squirm at the pain, or rather, you try not to. When it finally ends you look up to find his menacing eyes, covertly disguised within his smiles. Message received, loud and clear. 

The conversation flows back and forth easily between the four of you and Tom seems content. Thankfully. No one seems to suspect anything. Sometimes it ruins you knowing that you are trying not to raise suspicions for the sake of your health, but then again, you could argue you should be raising suspicions for the same reason.

That's what hurts. 

"So, Tom tells me you've been writing a lot. How's that going?" Harrison asks. You look up mid-mouthful. You're trying to conceal the fact that you've been longing for such delicious food for days, and it doesn't exactly help when you have to resist the hunger, having to put down the fork to speak. Does anyone really care for manners anyway? 

"Um, yeah, it's going alright. Deadlines are coming up so I have very little time to get out these days." 

The well-rehearsed conversation goes to plan and the audience is convinced. You're not really a writer. You don't really have deadlines coming up. And in fact, you have all the time in the world to get out. If only you could. 

You've finished your role, now it's Tom's time to shine. "Yeah she's been working so hard, haven't you? I've been telling her to take breaks more often and to get out, but...she's dedicated. It's inspiring," he gleams. He reaches over to tuck a strand behind your ear while a thumb glides across your cheek, reminding you of where the remnants of a bruise remains camouflaged beneath your makeup. Again, another warning.  

Teeth grinding, fists clenching, blood boiling. You could almost scream at the irony and the facade, but you know the rules; you can't let anyone suspect a thing. 

As you wait for your second course, that's when time really starts to slow down. You don't know how long you can keep the charade going, especially if you're being toyed by Tom's incessant teasing of freedom. It's almost as if he wants you to get yourself into trouble. 

Ah. Now here's the real trouble. You need the toilet. Tom hates when you're not in his sight which is why trying to get yourself to the one place he can't go seems like mission impossible. In a hopeless attempt, you cross your legs, squeezing them together as if that's going to help for the unforeseeable future. You look to Tom for permission, but he's too engrossed in the conversation with Harrison that he doesn't pay you any mind. However, it's because he's too engrossed in the conversation that he doesn't notice the subtle clearing of Grace’s throat. 

Her concerned eyes meet yours.

Are you okay?

I'm desperate.

She can’t seem to interpret your ambiguous message until you subtly gesture to your hand where you enclose your thumb within your fist. Her eyes widen with shock and horror, taking a cautionary glance over Tom. She knows. Nervous, you observe intently as she delicately picks up her glass of water within the curve of her hand, bringing it gently to her lips, eyes fixated on yours. 

Get ready. 

Beguiling eyes watch as the glass of water drops to her lap, spilling water all the way down her dress. The boys are whipped from their conversation as they scramble to clean up the mess. 

"Silly me!" she exclaims. "Ah, shit. Would you mind coming to the toilet to help me out?" Her eyes turn to you and without a moment's hesitation you rise from your seat with a 'no, I don't mind at all!'. This is it, this is your opportunity. "You guys don't mind do you? We'll only be a minute!" 

You don't look to Tom for permission this time. He doesn't have that authority now, especially in a public restaurant in front of his own friends. With each step that carries you away from him and into salvation feels like a hefty weight of a year being relieved from your shoulders. Just simply out of spite, your head peers over your shoulder to find very, very agitated, but restrained, eyes following your every move. Although he loves to make the rules, it amuses you when he becomes detained by his own words. He won't stop you because he can't raise suspicions himself. Ha!

Grace drags into the ladies toilet, thankfully empty, and turns to face you. 

"Pee first. Explanation after."

Thank you, you angel.

"Please tell me there is a genuine reason I had to do that," she pleads as she dabs her silk dress. 

"Um...well..."

"Oh my god there is, isn't there? I knew it! I always knew something wasn't right! Harrison refused to believe me..."

"Wait...you knew?"

"Well I don't know what I know. I've always thought that there's something not quite right with Tom for a while now, with you-" she pauses when she takes in your skeletal frame now that you have stepped out from the cubicle. "Holy fuck..." Her gentle hands run down the lengths of your arms before engulfing you in a hug. A real hug; not something you're forced into. "Is it true?" You nod, words replaced by tears. "I didn't realise how bad it was, I'm so sorry, I should've done something sooner." Grace retreats, but close enough to run her thumb over your cheek, exactly like Tom did but this time you wince, he isn't here to reprimand you. "He's hurt you..." she whispers. The shock has reduced her voice into nothing, clearly in disbelief of the unimaginable pain you've suffered. 

"Still does," you sniff. "I-I need help, Grace, I don't know how to get out."

"I'll help you, darlin', I will, don't worry-"

"But he c-can't find out, he's too smart. You even said so yourself, if Harrison won't believe you, how can we convince anyone? No one would believe what he's really like!"

"I'll make him believe, okay? Trust me. I will do everything I can to help you. But first," she takes a step back, whipping out her phone from her clutch. "I know this will be painful, but show me where he has hurt you. Are there any...marks o-or bruises?" she winces. 

You show her, letting her capture every scar, burn, bruise, scab, cut and mark there is on your body, even the fingernail marks he made just moments before. Every single one of them has a story to be told, and they were all left there by Tom. It is humiliating, but it's a step closer to liberation. 

You're starting to become wary of how long you're taking, and you know that if you're not sat by his side in less than a minute, he will come hunting. You retouch your appearances, quickly devise a plan, and let Grace coordinate your redemption, praying with every ounce of hope you have left that she's successful. All you need to do now is wait.

"Okay," she sighs, "stay strong for me, yeah? I'll get you help as soon as I can. Just-" she sighs hopelessly, "just hang in there." She kisses your cheek and you both strut back to your table next to your counterparts. Tom's scrutinising glower already fixated on you, and it seems that he's relinquished control of his body to his temperament. He's fighting his own demons now: the fidgeting of his fingers, the non-stop drumming of his knee, the grinding of his jaw, the obsessive need to know his surroundings, it's all there. 

The facade perks up again as soon as you are sat next to him, already his arm slinging around your dainty shoulders. 

"Sorted?" Harrison asks, pecking Grace’s cheek. 

"Sorted," she ambiguously peers at you.

Sadly enough you didn't get dessert.

You and Tom very swiftly vacated after your visit to the toilet upon receiving an 'urgent message' that required Tom's immediate attention, leaving no time for Harrison or Grace to query this 'urgent message'.

Tom marches about three paces ahead of you and your pulse quickens at the sight of his front door. Key in hand - no, fist - as he slots it into the door, opening it and standing by it, waiting for you. Memories repeat themselves and you’re living deja vu. You've experienced his temperament before, the only silver lining being that you have a slight upper hand of predicting what he will do next. You think about your next steps carefully. He'll seize you the first chance he gets to interrogate you, but if you have the energy to sprint past him, which you should thanks to your nutritious meal, you could make it to the bathroom before he reaches you. Is it a risk you're willing to take? Hell yes.

Three, two, one. GO!

Everything happens so quickly. With a burst of adrenaline, your feet carry you past Tom, narrowly missing as he reaches out for you. With your escape, belligerent footsteps chase you in pursuit. You can't afford to look behind you, you have to keep your eyes forward, running in the pursuit of safety that is behind the sturdy lock of the bathroom door. Oxygen passes through your weary lungs but you won't give up now, not with the possibility that you could be free from this in a matter of 24 hours. Swinging left and right, nearly clambering over the mess in the hallway, you successfully make it to your temporary safety.

The door slams shut just mere seconds before Tom could get his hands on you. You stand breathlessly in the haunting bathroom as the aged, wooden door in front of you visibly rattles from its hinges. If it can just hold a little longer...

"Open the door!" he growls.

"No!" You shout back. The rattling stops and silence falls. Either your defiance has shocked him into silence or he really is listening. The latter of the two being an inconceivable suggestion considering tonight's events. How hopeful of you.

A minute passes by and nothing is heard. Panic settles in as you can't even begin to imagine what plan Tom has devised. Taking an inch at a time, you glide across the icy floor tiles, approaching the rickety door with immediate precaution. The cracks through the wood let you see through to the other side and Tom's nowhere to be seen. Not a single soul, but that doesn't mean you're safe. You don't even dare thinking about turning that door knob, not for one second because for every minute that goes by is one minute closer to freedom.

Footsteps approach again and Tom's silhouette floats towards the door but this time, his composure is scarily tame. Aside from the familiar, haunting footsteps there's a new sound, one that should be liberating but in your case could mean the end for you.

The jangling of keys. Specifically, keys to the lock that keeps you in and him out. You didn't know he kept spare keys...

You admit your defeat when the lock turns and unlocks. You don't even move, you can't. It's the paralysing hopelessness that renders your feet frozen to the spot as the rickety door eases open with a tantalising creak. Before you, Tom unveils his malice, his intention speaking for him as he closes the door in a calm demeanour that provokes your fear even more. With your back against the wall, all you can do now is pray.

"Please, Tom, don't. Please, please, please, I didn't say anything, I promise, please don't hurt me," you plead, your voice barely a whisper.

"Why don't I believe you?" He steps closer, his body testing his temper. He's a hair's breadth away now, but still he hasn't laid a finger on you. Unintelligible words are passing your lips, even you can't make sense of your desperate pleas. "Hm?" He cocks his head ever so slightly to the left and eases closer to your ear, forehead drilling into the side of yours. "What. Did. You. Say. To. Her?" he bites. 

"N-nothing! I promise-"

"Don't lie to me!" He swings and his fist collides with the wall beside you with an almighty blow. Specs of dust and rubble roll down your shoulder as you let out a piercing scream. All you can do is cower into yourself, it's the only thing that helps to physically block out his manic shouting, to stop him muttering hostile threats into your ear. Having lost your last line of defence, your knees give way and buckle beneath you leaving you a crumpled mess on the floor, eyes tearful and suddenly your camouflage dissipates. You can't hide the bruises now.

Tight hands coil your wrists, not in anger, but in desperation. Blood trickles down from his knuckles after the sharp blow to the bathroom wall. He sobs your name, completely unaware that he himself has taken an emotional diversion. As conditioned, you meet his eyes, both alike in appearance however as for motive, it's clear you both want different things.

"Please," he mutters, "for me. Promise me you didn't say anything."

In amongst the inconsolable sobs, you do somehow find the oxygen to lie to him hoping that it'll convince him and end this torture. He reconciles with his anger and sinks his head low, body drooping towards yours until finally, out of exhaustion, his head collapses rather uncomfortably into the curve of your neck still continuously sobbing.

He's defeated, he knows that. His insecurity has clearly gotten out of control and you hate to admit that you pity him. You do. You almost begin to speculate that he's just as lonely as you are. He yearns for attention, love and decent care. You just can't give that to him and due to his insecurity and despair, he can't accept that. He can't let go of his lifeline.

You take the opportunity in Tom's sensitive state to bring his wits about him with words you wouldn't dare speak if under any other circumstances.

"Tom, please, listen to me," you croak, voice worn away from terror. "I can't always be here for you-"

"You have to!" His words hit your collarbone.

"You need help! You can't live your life like this, and you know you can't live mine for me either. I can't give you what you want or what you need."

"But I need you," he pleads. He lifts his head, his hands circling your face and soaking up your tears. "You can't leave me!"

"Tom, let her go..."

A new voice enters the conversation. Relief washes over you as you find Harrison and Grace standing breathlessly in the doorway in front of the domestic mess that's ensued for the past year. Your liberation has arrived, your beam of light, your freedom. In that moment of sweet release, you could swear that you heard something break; maybe it was Tom's heart, maybe it was his sanity, or maybe it was his supremacy over you, but whatever it was, there's no denying that you could see it in his eyes. Betrayal and defeat are two very prominent emotions that are seeping from him as little droplets of tears fall onto your lap.

"You told her?" he whispers, lip quivering. If hopelessness was a person...

"I had to..." you whisper back. Harrison's hand cautiously rests on Tom's shoulder pulling him back from you. The space between you grows and grows until finally you are whipped from his clutches and your eyes disconnect for the last time. Grace leads you to the living room where you find two broody police officers waiting to escort you to the ambulance, one staying behind to deal with Tom in whatever way that may be.

"We told them we'd go by ourselves. Couldn't risk the police triggering a reaction from him especially if he was with you." You really didn't ask nor did you care, for now you are a free soul.

"Thank you, Grace."

~~~~

The rest of the night falls peacefully as you are tucked up into a hospital bed accompanied by Harrison and Grace. The doctor had completed his observation within a short amount of time and told you what you already know...

'Nothing broken, a few bruises here and there but you'll be okay.'

Will you? What about the colossal build up of emotional abuse? Or the scars disfiguring your skin? What will rectify that? Where's the justice in that?

You bite your tongue, frustration isn't going to fix anything.

As you lie there, you think back on the days you spent with Tom, not in sentiment but in remorse. Remorse for not taking action sooner, remorse for not realising Tom's symptoms sooner, remorse for not telling someone. You assume that the feeling won't leave you anytime soon as you dread the numerous visits to court, the recalling of the awful days to testify against him, and the public outcry from fans as you send him to jail. It will be the last battle to fight against him, but at least you know how uplifted you will feel when there comes a day where you can wake up to your own life, regaining back the days you have lost and finding love the right way. There will come a day where you can finally make your own decisions, dress how you want to dress, say what you want to say, act how you want to act and maybe, just maybe, you can be the liberation that other women, like you, dream of having.

And this time there's nothing holding you back.

[tobesolonely]

grammy night

A/n: like most of you, watching harry perform WS did something to me. i rushed to my computer to write this IMMEDIATELY... not proofread but i hope u all enjoy nonetheless! Thanks @nationalharryleague​ for looking this over and hyping me up.

summary: y/n wants to show her grammy winning boyfriend just how proud she is of him💕

warnings: smut, mentions of the pandemic!

word count: ~3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You decided that “Harry Styles, Grammy-nominated artist!” had a lovely ring to it.

Harry knew how proud you were of him; you had been making it known to him in the days leading up to his big night. You fretted over him more than you usually did, showered him in an obnoxious amount of compliments, and were the most intimate you’d ever been with him–– but who was he to complain? 

Obviously, he knew you could care less whether he won or lost, and quite frankly, he didn’t care either. Just being able to perform at the Grammy’s, much less open it, was the opportunity of a lifetime. The fact that he was hitting such a big professional milestone with you by his side just made it that much better. You were both buzzing.

It had been months since Harry had performed. You knew how much he missed being in front of a live audience and hearing people scream his name, conceited as he was. He had been spending so much time rehearsing the one song he was performing, wanting it to be absolutely perfect. Your boyfriend was a perfectionist, after all! If he was going to do something, he either did it one hundred and ten percent, or he didn’t do it at all.

Although you were used to your boyfriend’s pre-performance jitters, it still wasn’t an easy sight to see. He would pace so much that beads of sweat would collect in his hairline; he’d shake, tremble, and have to be reminded to breathe. You’d think after ten years of doing this he would be a pro, but he was only human, after all. 

“Been so long since I performed in front of people,” Harry muttered to you, examining his reflection in his make-shift dressing room. “‘M nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” you reply, coming up behind him to rub his shoulders. He shoots you a look in the mirror. “I know it’s easier said than done but you have nothing to worry about. It’s “Watermelon Sugar” honey–– you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve performed this one dozens of times.”

“Things are jus’ so different now,” his voice drops an octave. “What if people are tired of the song?”

“I don’t think people are tired of the song.”

“It played on the radio a lot. Came out in 2019––”

“...And you’ve been busy with other things. No one’s gonna be upset that you haven’t released new music in the middle of a pandemic H, I promise you.”

Harry’s gaze meets yours again in the mirror briefly before he tilts his head back, silently asking for a kiss. You plant one on his lips before grabbing a tissue from a small table beside him, dabbing at his hairline.

“Stop sweating everything off, Harry,” you playfully scold your boyfriend. “Make-up artist has already been by to touch you up three times already, she’s probably running out of product.”

Your boyfriend lightly chuckles at this, causing you to smile. “I’ll just tell my body to cut it out. How’s tha’ sound?”

“Sounds good,” you reply, leaning down to kiss his nose. “You alright?”

You notice Harry deeply inhale. “I think so. How do I look?”

“Like a Grammy-nominated, soon-to-be Grammy-winning, artist.” 

Harry’s skin flushes. “Stop it…” The sound of three short knocks on the door of his dressing room causes panic to flood his features.

“Hey, look at me,” you gently grab your boyfriend’s chin, turning his gaze up towards yours. “It’s my job to believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself. If you get nervous just know I’ll be sitting as close to the stage as they’ll let me.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now, go make me proud.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Breathe me in, breathe me out…”

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought Harry’s nerves in his dressing room were all theatrics. He was so in his element on stage, you were one hundred percent sure no one knew he was so nervous twenty minutes prior that he was turning green. He kept looking out into the small crowd, searching for you, and flashing you a dimpled grin once he did. 

You were enjoying watching him prance around the stage while trying to keep up with the band on stage, looking a bit too proud of himself when he was able to stay on the beat while rhythmically snapping his hips along to the song. As the song came to an end and the dimmed lights started coming back on, you were led back to Harry’s dressing room by one of his guards as you heard the next performer being introduced.

“How did I do?” Harry asks loudly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

His voice causes you to jump. “You scared the shit out of me! How’d you get off stage so quickly?”

Harry grabs your arm and pulls you off the couch, wrapping you in a tight, sweaty hug. “Don’t know. I basically ran to ya.”

“You did incredibly,” you tell him, lips ghosting over his. “Just like I knew you would. I don’t wanna say you were nervous for nothing, but you kinda were.”

“Don’t wanna hear your teasin’.”

“Did you see how everyone was looking at you?”

“I only saw how you were lookin’ at me. I was only lookin’ at you.”

Your body heats up at Harry’s admission, causing you to look away. “You’re so cheesy, H.”

“I think I would’ve been about fifty times more nervous if you weren’t here with me,” he presses his nose against yours. “Thank you for bein’ here, Y/N. You make this whole thing so much more doable.” Harry places one… two… three wet kisses to your cheek before pulling away, walking back over to close the door he left open during his excitement to re-join you.

“Changing?”

“Yeah,” Harry turns to look at you as he pulls off his jacket. The sight of his bare chest causes you to thickly swallow. “‘M gonna put what I was wearin’ on the red carpet back on. We’re gonna move outside.”

You simply hum in response to what Harry said, sitting back on the couch to scroll through your phone as you wait for him to finish changing. Everyone was congratulating Harry on his performance and wishing him luck on his nominations. You read all the good luck texts for him that were sent to you out loud, watching as his smile grows bigger and bigger from all the love he was being showered in.

After helping Harry powder his T-zone you let him lead you out of the small room and out into an area with spaced-out circular tables, most of them with just two or three seats at them. The Grammy’s in the middle of a pandemic was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you were pleasantly surprised at how smoothly things were running. Jeff is already sat at the table when you and Harry join him and you can visibly see him let out the breath he was holding.

“Your boyfriend ran off stage so quickly I thought I was gonna have to set up a search party to find him,” Jeff tells you, a slight hint of annoyance present in his voice. He then turns to Harry and says, “Fix your mask, please.”

“It is fixed,” Harry grumbles but adjusts it nonetheless, causing you to giggle. 

Even though it was obvious your boyfriend was enjoying himself, you could still tell he was extremely nervous the closer it became to announcing the winner of the category he was nominated in. His grip on your thigh kept growing tighter and tighter and although you didn’t hate it, you worried he might cut off your circulation soon if he didn’t let go of you soon.

“H, take a deep breath,” you lean over to whisper in his ear. “You’re gonna make my thigh fall off.”

“Sorry, love,” if you could see his mouth under his mask, you’d see him biting his plump lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my fuckin’ life.”

“Never?”

“Have I?”

“I dunno. I’m asking you.”

You see Harry’s eyes crinkle. “Maybe when I asked you out for the first time.”

“You are seriously so cheesy.”

Harry doesn’t respond, just takes your hand in his and directs his attention back to the stage. His palm is sweaty in yours but you don’t release his grip on your hand, wanting to offer him as much comfort as you possibly could.

When they start naming the nominees for Best Pop Solo Performance, you literally have to remind Harry to control his breathing. Although he won’t be upset if he doesn’t win, you know it would still mean quite a bit to him if he did.

“And the winner for Best Pop Solo Performance is… Harry Styles!”

Your mouth falls open in shock as you turn to fully face your boyfriend who was looking down at your intertwined hands, eyes wide in surprise. He genuinely wasn’t expecting to win and that made this victory that much sweeter. 

“Harry!” You yell to be heard above the cheers and applause of his colleagues in the crowd. Jeff stands and grabs Harry’s hand, pulling him out of his seat and into a tight hug. You stand up and clap loudly in admiration for your boyfriend, willing the tears not to fall from your eyes. He removes himself from Jeff and pulls you into him, your head pressed against his chest.

“I won a fuckin’ Grammy!” Harry shouts.

“I know!” You shout back, probably more excited than he was. “Get up there!”

Your boyfriend quickly removes his mask and hands it to you before hurrying to the makeshift stage, hugging the presenter before touching his Grammy in awe. He picks it up and then slowly sets it back down, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much…” 

You can’t stop the few tears that spill over your waterline–– you were so unbelievably proud of him. You’re not even paying attention to his acceptance speech as you’re too preoccupied with looking at everyone staring at your boyfriend in admiration. 

“Lastly, I want to thank my girlfriend who’s sitting right there next to my manager, Jeffrey. She’s my number one fan, always believes in me when I don’t believe in myself,” he looks down at his shoes bashfully. “Wouldn’t be half the man I am today if it weren’t for her. This is our Grammy, love.”

You blow kisses to your boyfriend, ignoring the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. As far as you were concerned, you and Harry were the only two people around at that moment. Your heart couldn’t have been any more full.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

To absolutely no one's surprise, you and Harry couldn’t keep your hands off each other for the remainder of the night. You were relieved there were no after parties being held that Harry would be expected to attend due to the pandemic because you could not get him alone fast enough.

“Slow down, Y/N,” Harry sets his Grammy on the foyer table as he kicks off his shoes. “Just us, innit? We’ve got all night, haven’t we?”

“I’m just so proud,” you tell him breathlessly, sucking on the underside of his jaw. “Let me show you.”

“You have been showin’ me. A lot, actually,” Harry leans his head back and closes his eyes in pleasure as you lick tantalizingly slow against his veiny neck. “Guess one more time wouldn’t hurt, though.”

“Do you want me to blow you or not?”

“Oh, so that’s what’s gonna happen here?”

“If you’re gonna be annoying, then no.”

“Kiiiding,” Harry rolls his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. “C’mon, let me get you upstairs.”

”You’re the one that won a Grammy, not me,” you remind him. “Let me make you feel good.”

Harry lets out a quiet hum, guiding you towards the couch. “Exactly–– I’m the winner. Doesn’t that mean I should get what I want tonight?” He falls backward onto the couch, pulling you atop his lap. His hand roams down the front of your dress and he squeezes your breasts roughly, clearly delighted that you decided to forgo a bra tonight.

“I suppose,” you answer, biting back a moan. 

“You suppose? Not in the mood for it tonight?” He starts to retract his hand but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“I am!” You don’t even try to hide how desperate you are for your boyfriend.

“Gonna let me taste you, hmm?” As Harry asks his question he slowly slides off the couch and onto his knees in front of you, bunching your dress up around your hips. He leans in close to your already dripping center and inhales deeply, a blissed-out look on his face. “Smell fuckin’ incredible. I gotta taste ya.”

You spread your legs wider without even thinking about it, almost as if it’s on instinct. Harry easily moves your underwear to the side and immediately connects his lips with your clit, not giving you time to adjust to the sensation before he’s just going at it.

“Oh, Harry…”

“Rings on or off?” His voice is muffled due to your thighs being clamped around his head, but you can still understand what he’s saying.

“On!”

Harry chuckles against your cunt before sliding his index finger in with ease, loving the way you immediately clenched around the digit. “Y’like that, lovie? Wanna take another one?”

“Please.” Your boyfriend already has you breathless despite the fact that he was just getting started.

Harry slips his middle finger into you along with his index finger and starts curling it up in the way he knew you liked, trying his hardest to stimulate your g-spot. He looks extremely focused; leave it to Harry to make a night that was supposed to be all about him, not.

“S’fuckin’ tight,” he says, more so to himself. “You’d think with all the shags we’ve been ‘avin lately you’d be used to my fingers by now.”

You let out a loud groan at your boyfriend’s dirty talk. He knew that it was one of your biggest kinks so he usually overdid it just a tad bit. It’s not like you were complaining, though.

“Guess that means you’re not fuckin’ me hard enough, huh?”

Harry stops his movements and looks up at you through slightly hooded eyes, an amused (but not really) look on his face. “Not fuckin’ you hard enough? Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

You can tell by the tone of Harry’s voice that he has it out for you now, but there’s no use in recanting your statement. He was about to make sweet, primal, love to you and god were you ready. Harry goes back to mercilessly fucking into you with his thick fingers, speeding up or slowing down his pace based on how you clench around him.

”Fuck, H.”

“Feels nice?” He goes from moving his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion to a scissoring motion which feels just as good if not better.

“Yeah, really nice,” your fingers are tangled in Harry’s hair and you know he’ll give you hell later for getting it all knotted. “I’m close.”

“Already? Haven’t even properly fucked you yet,” Harry removes his fingers from you aching cunt agonizingly slow, wiping them on his expensive Gucci trousers. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to fix that, yeah?”

“I guess so.”

“You’ve got a mouth on you tonight, pet. Is that really any way to treat your Grammy-winning boyfriend-”

“Harry, come off it!” You exclaim, letting out a loud laugh as you watch him stand up and unbutton his pants. “You’re insufferable, I swear.”

Harry shoots you one of his blindingly bright smiles, wiggling his eyebrows as his pants pool around his feet. “Hey, ‘m just statin’ facts.”

He collapses onto the couch and pats his lap, giving his leaking cock two quick tugs. “Ride me.”

“Just because you won a Grammy doesn’t mean you don’t have to ask nicely anymore.”

“Y/N, my beautiful, dazzling, elegant girlfriend, will you please do me the honors of riding––”

“Why do you make everything so weird?” You groan as Harry laughs and pulls you into his lap with ease, wincing when your thigh brushes against his cock. Wordlessly, he places his hands on your hips and helps you sink down onto him, taking his lip in between his teeth to keep from yelling out.

”Fuck me…”

“I’m about to,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you adjust to his size. His hands roam the expanse of your back as he waits for you to get used to the feeling on him, wanting to feel every part of your body all at once. Without warning, you begin sluggishly rolling your hips. You were in no rush anymore; you had him inside of you, and that was all you wanted from the start.

“S’that all you got in ya?” His tone is cheeky, almost mocking. “I think you can give me more than tha’.”

“I dunno if I can.”

“Why’s that?” Harry bucks his hips upward slightly causing you to let out a loud gasp.

“I just want you to fuck me. I don’t wanna do any work.”

At this, Harry quickly flips you over so your sweaty body is now below his. You moan at the sensation the new angle immediately brought you. “Want me on top like this? This is how you wanna have me, angel?”

You nod. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes, Harry,” your eyes squeeze shut as Harry begins quickly thrusting into you. “God, yes. That feels amazing.”

“Yeah? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” Harry reaches his hand down to thumb at you clit and raises an eyebrow while awaiting your answer.

“God,” you grab onto your breasts to prevent them from bouncing around as Harry’s thrusting into you but he rips your hand away.

“Wanna see ‘em.”

“Right there,” you moan, no longer trying to bite back your sounds of pleasure. Between Harry eating you out, fingering you, and now fucking you harder than he has in ages, you were a few sloppy thrusts away from coming all over his cock. “I’m gonna cum–”

“...Already?”

You know he’s teasing but you still reach between your sweaty bodies to swat at his bare chest. “Don’t tease!”

“‘M messin’ with ya, puppy,” Harry pushes his curls out of his eyes. “I’m almost there- you first. Cum for me, Y/N.”

Harry doesn’t have to tell you twice. You spasm around his cock as soon as he tells you to, lifting your hips up to meet him as you could tell he was growing tired. Harry pulls out moments later, muttering a quick, “Where do you want it?” before finishing on your chest.

The silence that fills the room is comforting but of course, it’s cut short by your pest of a boyfriend.

“If that's what I got just for winning one Grammy, what would I get if I won the others?”

[clairecrive]

hi! I just recently found your account and I've been spending all my time reading everything you've written, and I wanted to tell you that I absolutely adore your writing! it's so beautiful.

I also wanted to request a friends to lovers nikolai x reader fic (you don't have to make it friends to lovers if you don't want to!) something along the lines of this: they get seperated after the battle with the darkling at the end of siege and storm and reader has to go with alina but they finally reunite? and everyone is super smug because they knew it would happen.

sorry for such a long ask and no worries if you decide not to do it! I hope you're doing well!!

Fools, pistols blazing and shock

A/n: a promise is a promise and the second most requested fic was Nikolai and angst and so here it is! friends to lovers is not my favorite trope but I enjoyed writing this. I hope you will too x

Thank you so much for your beautiful words btw, they mean the world <3<3

tags: @jupiterandbutterflies , @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep , @lizzie-he4rts , @korol-lantsov , @subjecta13-thefangirl ,@gallysonegoodlung , @a-c-lee , @mriddlemethis , @carnationworld , @thanossexual , @luvxginger , @sanna2020 , @partiesandblurrypolaroids , @edithsvoice , @wafflesandschemingfaces , @snugleo , @sugarmelonwater , @dobwhore, @sassybadqueen , @anything-forourmoony, @snokoi, @imaginingimagines, @vintagebitc_,

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"So," he twirled around, "how do I look?" With a theatrical gesture, he stopped in front of you.

You looked at him, head to toe, before saying, "Like a fool I know."

He was imperturbable, by the smirk on his face one would think that you had paid him a compliment. "The answer was far simpler: handsome."

"You look like a prince," you conceded, " but so does your brother so take that as you will." And with that, you walked to your assigned post leaving a scandalized Nikolai behind.

The dinner went by smoothly even if you had to bear Vasily being his annoying self. So far so good. The important thing was that the people around the table were under no threat. The rest was bearable.

And no, it had nothing to do with Nikolai winking at you from time to time. Flirting was second nature to him and Alina's presence by his side was a cold reminder of how things were.

It took one look at her for your face to go as blank as Mal's on the other side of the room.

You had disconnected from the conversation at the table for a second, your attention going to the exit where a Grisha soldier had just walked in to talk to Zoya. If you had been paying attention to Nikolai, you would have known what to expect.

But you hadn't and so the next few seconds were pure chaos.

The unthinkable happened.

Black shadows filled the room, leaving no chance to the people they had appeared before. The Queen's scream brought your attention back to the table and consequently to the Vasily. Or rather, to what was left of him.

Beside him, the kind had crouched down to hide and was cowering behind the throne. The Queen clutched her son's body to her chest wailing and screaming. Then your eyes fell on him, standing tall in front of his parents shooting away.

You didn't know what you were going to do. You didn't think. You just acted and the next thing you knew, you were running towards him shooting fire at whatever tendrils of shadows you could see.

"Nikolai!"

In a moment, you reached his side, covering his back for every possible attack.

"You need to go," you urged him over the sounds of crying and shooting. A shot of light filled the room blinking you for a moment and panic shot through you at the possibility of Alina being hurt.

"Take your parents and Alina and go Nikolai. You can't stay here!" You insisted again, still back to back, unwilling to let anything happen to him. If he meant to argue you didn't know. You heard him speak but his words went unheard over the chaos in the room.

You turned around just in time to see one of those things trying to make their way to him. The tendrils of fire that shot through you slowed it down but it was only a shot of wind coming from a squaller that did the trick and sent it away.

Nodding in the squaller's direction you took Nikolai's shoulders and turned him towards the secret exit behind the throne.

"Stop playing hero and just go for Saint's sake!" Under normal circumstances, he was stronger than you. And well, he still was but too busy worrying about getting his family to safety and covering your back, he ended up succumbing to your shoves.

"I can't leave you here!"

"You can and you surely will! I'll make sure that Alina is safe," ushering him and his parents towards the exit, you didn't give him time to argue. Once they were through the door, you closed it behind them and melted the lock.

You allowed yourself only a moment to worry about him, to mourn him if things were to go downhill for you. Only a second for you to mourn the future that you knew you were never going to get with him.

Then it was over. Your heart locked away and your mind focused solely on the battle ahead. You needed to make sure that Alina was alive and get her to safety whilst also trying to save as many as you could along the way.

A piece of cake.

*+*+*+*+*+*

You knew that he had made it out of Os Alta alive. You had gotten word that he had arrived safe and sound to one of his hiding spots scattered around the country.

Alina and a group of other Grisha, including yourself, had managed to make it out alive out of the capital as well.

All was as well as it could be under these gloomy circumstances. And yet, you couldn't help but feel like you had lost.

Too many had fallen under the Darkling's wrath. Too many had given up their lives in honor of Ravka's freedom. Too many sacrifices for you all to be hiding in the tunnels like scared cats.

But you had a plan. You just needed to be in the same room as Alina, all of you at once, and you were going to make your way up.

It was only a matter of time before you were going to see him again.

*+*+*+*+*+*

It turned out that you were right. It was a matter of time indeed before you saw Nikolai again.

As always, he couldn't help but make a grand entrance while praising his good looks. For once, your eyes didn't roll in mock annoyance. The joy of seeing him again, safe and sound while also saving your asses, prevailed.

And the moment his eyes met yours? Priceless.

Despite being in the middle of running away and fighting the first army's soldiers, you felt like there was only the two of you. Nothing mattered besides Nikolai, his stupid smirk that shone brighter than all the stars combined.

It turned out that that moment came with a price indeed. Your distraction paved the way for an almost fatal mistake.

Too lost in Nikolai's eyes and restraining yourself from throwing yourself at him, you didn't notice the soldier sneaking up behind him. Or well, you didn't until it was too late.

The movement caught your eyes, but the bastard had his pistol already drawn. You had the presence of the spirit of pushing Nikolai out of the way before a shot was fired.

Focusing on the bullet you tried all your might to melt it, but you knew it was a desperate attempt since you had noticed it too late. Trying and losing was better than not trying at all so trying you did.

However, what turned out to be life-saving was Nikolai's counterattack. While you exercised the small science, Nikolai quickly drew his own pistol and shoot at the soldier.

Time seemed to slow down as you stared in front of him, hands in the air while Nikolai moved behind you. Right before your brain registered that while you had indeed managed to burn the bullet, it was still coming your way at high speed, another object entered your field vision.

At that moment you didn't exactly decipher what had happened, you blinked and the bullet was not there anymore. However, your stupor was short-lived as other soldiers were coming your way after hearing the noise.

At that point, Nikolai tugged you away and towards his awaiting ship knowing that the soldiers would surely outnumber you.

It all happened in a blink. One moment you were on the ground hellbent on not dying, and the other you were up in the air.

That, combined with the stress of the last couple of weeks. exhaustion and dehydration put you in a state of shock. Resulting in you staring numbly ahead of you.

Then, when you felt a hand on your face, your brain started working again and your eyes slowly began to focus.

"Are you injured?"

Nikolai was moving your head left and right to check for wounds and after that, he moved down on your neck and vital points. But you weren't hurt.

"It's so typically you to swoop in and save the day in the most dramatic way possible that I shouldn't even be surprised."

Your sarcasm reassured him that you were fine more than the absence of physical wounds. Leaning back on his haunches, he gave you a lazy smirk. "You know me, always read to save damsels in distress."

You almost hated how handsome he looked in that moment but the fact that he basically had saved your life made it really hard for you to get mad at him.

"Not a damsel and not in distress but I appreciated your gesture," you fired back falling naturally into your usual easy banter. "Thank you, Kolya."

"You shouldn't be thanking me. I did it for a whole selfish reason." His features morphed into seriousness which was usually something he left for meetings or that kind of stuff. Seeing it now directed at you, seriously worried you.

"Since when does Nikolai Lanstov shy away from gratefulness and compliments?" You tried to jest but to no avail.

"I'm serious."

"Alright, so why did you do it? You have tons of other Grisha available."

"Because a world without you is not a world I want to live in."

Well, damn. Trust Nikolai to make you completely speechless.

"That must be the shock talking," you murmured still taken back by his words.

"I've almost lost you, y/n, I'm not going to waste any more time avoiding my feelings." Crossing his arms on his chest, Nikolai lightly shook his head. Damn, there was no smirk on his face, no twinkle in his eyes. He must be serious.

"I should be having an epiphany moment since I was the one who almost died," you protested.

"Feel free to declare your undying love for me then."

"Ass. Now I'm tempted not to do it just to prove you wrong," you glared at him but sighed knowing what you needed to do. "But, as much as it pains me, you're right."

Your eyes flickered between yours and the sheer intensity of them gave you enough confidence to bear your heart to him, "I do love you, you know."

"Well, let's be honest, who wouldn't. I'm amazing," with a careless shrug, Nikolai gestured to himself. Which, of course, made you glare at him.

"Joking, I take it back. You're insufferable." Your mock-annoyance did nothing but amuse him to no end. However untruthful they might be, Nikolai played along with your words. While also progressively leaning closer to you.

"Nope, can't do that love. You signed your destiny, you're mine." You would have retired, of course you would have, but the truth is, his lips were more interesting than any witty comeback ever could.