#or i’m inspired but i don’t trust myself to even be able to create what my brain wants to create in a remotely satisfactory way

[kirathegreatfoxandkingofeyeballs]

Have you ever been so inspired to make something, but lack the technical skill to make it, or for some reason or another have no way to externally express this like pent up need to make SOMETHING, and it feels like a gazillion thoughts running through your head and you get so restlessly frustrated because you NEED to make something, but for some reason or another, be it personal or technical, you just can’t? And then you end up giving yourself an anxiety attack and heart palpitations and it feels like you’re going to explode?

[gaiaseyes451]

Return to Eden - Chapter 3 - Final Chapter!

Chapter 3 - the final chapter! - of Return to Eden is live. Our story from @goodomensafterdark is now complete. I may visit this universe again in the future, but the story has a definitive resolution now (for all my WIP adverse folks and those who avoid angst before the comfort is written :) ).

Also, there is art at the end of the story - the piece that inspired Return From Eden was a gift from the r/GoodOmensAfterDark Secret Santa. Go check out the artist, copics_on_copypaper over on insta!

Return to Eden is rated Explicit, this chapter is Mature. Please, mind the tags for Chapter 1.

This work can be read alone, but it will make more sense (and be more impactful) if you've read Fractured and Shatter first - they're all part of the Before Eden There Was a Garden Series.

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale averted the second coming and were trying to pick up the pieces of their relationship when Aziraphale became plagued with nightmares. After hearing Aziraphale murmur a phrase from a previous life in his sleep, Crowley went in search of the one place that may be able to set everything right. Now Aziraphale must decide how much he wants to know and if he wants to remember at all.

Excerpt (Continue reading on AO3):

~*~*~

Aziraphale stepped up to the wall, tentatively ran his hand over the stones he’d placed in the Eastern Gate, smoother now after eons of wear deep in the Earth’s mantle. The wall was low, worn down such that it resembled a border around a garden bed more than the formidable structure of Biblical times. “Why did you bring me here?”

Crowley paused, his expression both sorrowful and hopeful. His eyes roamed over Aziraphale’s face, as if he were trying to recall and memorize every expression. “Shall we go in?”

“Eden,” Azraphale whispered and he took the first tentative step over the ruins as Crowley followed.

The garden was familiar yet foreign. The path leading from the Eastern gate to the center of Eden was visible but overgrown by vining ground cover and grasses. The lushness of what had once been a carefully curated paradise had been allowed to flourish unrestrained. Tree limbs intertwined creating a canopy over the path that blocked the stars from view and could hide an angel and demon from curious eyes. The night blooms of primrose and gardenia and jasmine created a heady perfume as they competed with the day flowers and shrubs for their chance to thrive. 

Aziraphale wandered down the path in silence. Even in its overrun state he knew Eden. He recalled delighting in the blooms and birdsong, eyeing the serpent of Eden warily before making his acquaintance on the wall, guiding Adam and Eve down this path to be exiled through the Eastern gate. These memories he recognized, they were familiar and bracing—he had turned them over in his mind time after time until they were worn, smooth and comfortable. He was unprepared for the flashes of other recollections, fleeting and rapid like lightning, illuminating what he knew into sharp contrast to what he had once known. Before he could grasp the flashes, make sense of the fragments they plunged back into the darkness.

“Crowley, I can’t do this.”

A firm hand on his bicep turned Aziraphale toward the demon and he looked into his earnest, golden eyes. “You can, Angel. One step at a time. I’m here.”

Aziraphale slowly shook his head. “This is too much. I can’t- it’s all running together. Like that night- I don’t,” he paused. “I don’t trust myself to know what’s real and what’s not.”

“Then trust me.” His voice was soft but brokered no argument. “Sometimes the only way forward is through.”

Aziraphale wasn’t listening, his eyes had locked onto a patch of sweet peas that had grown unruly; the shoots casting tendrils on the surrounding plants as a makeshift trellis. He knelt on the path beside the plant, wrapping the delicate tendril around his index finger, contemplating the wafer-thin petals of the white flowers. Crowley watched him, silent and waiting.

~*~*~

As always, a huge thanks to my beta readers @the-literal-kj and @hakunahistata!

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 18)

WARNING: Miscarriage, blood

Just a small note ahead of time, because I know that miscarriages are a sensitive subject. They are so common, and it’s something I wanted to touch upon, because they’re often ignored in media despite that. Becoming a mother isn’t always immediate, or easy for that matter, and I feel it’s important to acknowledge that. This is especially true in the GOT universe where it likely would’ve happened much more often. However, given that it is sensitive, please do not feel compelled to read this chapter if you think it will in any way, shape, or form be triggering for you. You will still be able to read the next chapter without any confusion if you decide to skip this one, so please keep that in mind. —————

“So you’re the high sparrow then?”

The man sitting before me in the cells was absolutely filthy, and if I was honest, did not appear to be much of a leader. 

“That is what they call me, yes,” he said, giving a gentle smile. I nodded, glancing at Ser Elias and motioning for him to wait outside the door while I spoke to the man. 

“Based on your dress, I’m going to assume that you’re (Y/N) Tyrell,” he said, watching me sit down on a small stool that I’d brought with me. I normally wouldn’t have cared, but Tywin had gifted me this dress, and I didn’t want to ruin it. 

“And why couldn’t I be Margaery?” I questioned, crossing my legs and placing my hands in my lap. 

“The dress is cream with red roses and gold details,” he observed, making me raise an eyebrow.

“Yes it is, why does that matter?” 

“I should think you of all people would be familiar with the rumors that you and Tywin Lannister are romantically involved,” he said with a slight laugh, causing me to be slightly irritated. I decided it was best to ignore him. 

“The reason I’m here, your holiness, is because I’m curious. What kind of man creates a group willing to parade people through the streets naked?” I questioned, leaning forward as I looked down at him. 

“A reasonable one, I’d like to think.”

“Or one who craves power given to him through fear.”

“Fear?”

“Forcing someone who indulges and commits what you believe to be ‘sins’ to walk the city naked creates fear,” I said, watching him smile and shake his head. 

“It is not to create any sort of fear, Lady (Y/N). It is to repent for the sin,” he tried to excuse, making me scoff at the man’s sheer audacity.

“If you truly believed in repentance, I should think you would try to help people find a better lifestyle naturally, by removing that action from their life. Not by humiliating them,” I replied, watching him think of a reply.

“It is how the gods made us.”

“And yet even you do not walk naked, high sparrow. Whether you believe it or not, your motive is to inspire fear.”

“You disapprove quite adamantly. I wonder if there’s a reason for that,” he said suggestively, implying that perhaps I only disliked it because I was afraid of being forced to do it myself. I began to laugh.

“No, no, it’s not that. The last thing parading me naked would do is inspire fear. The reason I disapprove is because I feel it fundamentally goes against morality. If the gods are so just, why don’t you trust them to punish those that deserve it in their own time?” I questioned, wondering if perhaps behind all the nonsense there was a sliver of reason. 

“We merely try to help them find a better path sooner rather than later.”

“And who are you to determine what that better path is? Plenty of ‘sinners’ lead much better lives, much kinder lives than those who claim to be devout and religious,” I said with a scoff, knowing that faith and opinion often became one.

“You’re correct, I won’t deny it. But there are also all those in between.”

“Care to list any examples, your holiness?”

“Homosexuality, for example. It is an insult to the way the gods made us,” he said rather quickly, picking up on the way my eye twitched. I was certain he knew that targeting Loras was inevitably going to rile me up. 

“The way the gods made us? If they hadn’t wanted it, they wouldn’t even have given us the thought. Unless you would admit that the gods make mistakes, then they’ve created many of us with different preferences than others.”

“A preference? No. It is a disease, my lady. One we must root out.”

“I cannot say I agree, high sparrow. If you asked every man alive who his ideal woman was, very few would give the same answer. In that sense, there are some men who would not like a woman at all. I’ve had this discussion before with another, though it was not so tedious as this.”

The high sparrow scoffed and shook his head, smiling to himself.

“Well, even if homosexuality weren’t a sin, intercourse out of marriage most certainly is. That is why the high septon was punished, as he of all people should know that,” he claimed, hands folded in his lap. It was an odd stance, and quite calm for a man who would get his head cut off in less than an hour. 

“The high septon was in a brothel. If you beat and stripped every man in the city who’d ever gone to a brothel or had intercourse out of marriage there wouldn’t be a single person with clothes on,” I said, beginning to laugh. 

“And that includes Tywin Lannister, doesn’t it?” He asked with a grin, trying to find a weakness perhaps. No, I would not let him use it against me. 

“Yes, it certainly does. I’m not going to deny it, Lord Tywin and I have been sleeping together for quite some time now. I don’t regret it, and I don’t believe it’s a sin,” I said simply, watching the man’s face twist in surprise.

“You don’t believe it’s a sin?”

“No, why would it be? As you said, the gods gave us our bodies, and with them they gave us pleasure,” I said with a smile, finding it ridiculous that so many people often made such a fuss about sex as if it wasn’t something all of us enjoyed.

“The purpose of it is to show our loyalty and devotion to them by resisting the urge until marriage,” he replied, somewhat annoyed by my perspective.

“We show our loyalty and devotion by praying and building great septs and grand churches. What kind of ‘just’ gods would purposely give us something to fail at? I think we ought to enjoy the lives they’ve given us and do our best to be good people,” I explained, wondering if he could at least agree with the last sentiment. 

“You are at least correct in that. It’s important to love everyone around you equally, even those that might be deemed as ‘below’ you,” he remarked with a gentle grin. I knew what he was suggesting, however.

“I know you believe all nobles to be selfish and unaware, and I won’t deny that most of us certainly are. I won’t even deny that I myself have recoiled at the poor. This doesn’t mean that I don’t care for them, though. What I do politically is, after my own family’s benefit, for the realm. Why do you think I ended the war with Robb Stark? We easily could’ve crushed him, yet I met with him because I knew it would restore general peace and allow thousands of men to return home to their families. I’ve also been ensuring that the Tyrell lands feed this city, lest you forget,” I told him, not liking to be accused falsely. I would own up for my flaws, but I would not accept lies. 

“You manage those funds? Not your grandmother or father?” He questioned, raising a skeptical eyebrow. 

“I’ve begun to, yes. Once my father is dead, I’m to show Loras how to do it. My grandmother would prefer I handle things until that day comes, however,” I said, watching him nod.

“Quite impressive of you. The Nightshade of the Garden is very well rounded, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is. Thank you for speaking with me, high sparrow. It has been interesting to speak with you,” I said, feeling quite done with the man. 

“Of course, Lady (Y/N). Seven blessings to you.”

“And to you. I hope you’ll give the gods my regard,” I said with a slight smile. It was both sarcastic and genuine, somehow. 

He gave me a nod, and I left the cell slightly irked. There was something strange about the man, as he made such repulsive and unfortunate remarks so calmly and happily. I had no doubt in my mind that my family would’ve been targeted had Tywin not had him arrested so immediately, and suddenly I was glad that he had done so. 

Seven blessings to the high sparrow, indeed.

—————

Tywin had been right, the people of king's landing had cheered when the high sparrow’s head detached from his body. 

The end of his short reign, if one should even call it that. I was glad it hadn’t grown into anything serious, and I was glad Tywin had handled it effectively. 

So long as it kept my siblings safe, I didn’t care what it took. And speaking of which, I was currently on my way to go see Margaery. 

I’d had dinner with her upon my return, but it had been more than a week since then, and now that I’d had the stitches taken out of my wound I was a bit more free to move around. 

Ser Elias had offered to escort me, but I was certain it was fine. I was grateful I had kept the cane from about a year and a half ago.

Gods, had it really been that long since the battle of Blackwater?

I reached Margaery’s room, knocking on the door. There was no response, and I found it rather odd. She always came back to her room after lunch. 

I reached for the door handle, and finding that it was open, I slowly pushed it open. 

I found her laying on her bed, eyes shut but breathing fast enough that I could tell she was awake.

“Are you alright, Margaery?” I asked, closing the door behind me. She opened her eyes and sighed.

“I’ve been feeling somewhat ill all day. I was hoping to get a bit of sleep, but I haven’t been able to,” she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. 

I nodded, sitting down in one of the chairs by her table. 

“What are you feeling?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t anything serious. An odd look passed over her face, almost as if she herself was trying to figure something out.

“I’m a bit tired and nauseous. There’s pain in my lower back, too, but I imagine I just slept oddly,” she reasoned, which made decent enough sense to me. 

“Well, I hope it goes away,” I said, pouring myself a glass of wine. She nodded and sighed again, clearly uncomfortable. 

“The high sparrow was beheaded this morning, wasn’t he?” She questioned, looking over at me as I looked around the room. It felt messier than usual. 

“Yes, he was. I spoke with him beforehand, too. He was quite opinionated, even if there was certainly a lack of logic in it,” I said with a soft laugh, making Margaery shake her head.

“People like that always make me so nervous. They can’t be convinced no matter what you tell them,” she said with a scoff. 

“No, they certainly can’t. He and I certainly had quite the debate,” I told her, fidgeting with part of my dress. Margaery inhaled sharply, looking as if she might throw up, but then returned to normal a few moments later.

“Apologies, what did you two debate?” She asked, coming back to herself again. 

“He tried to prod about homosexuality, which of course was a dig at Loras. I didn’t let that stand, however, so his next insult was about sex out of marriage. He seemed to think that Lord Tywin and I were having intimate relations too,” I said, making Margaery laugh softly.

“The gods always know the truth, (Y/N). I don’t know why you still deny it.”

“It’s not the truth. Gods forbid the people of King's Landing see a man and a woman interact with each other in a way that isn’t romantic,” I pretended, knowing damn well the people of King's Landing had been correct about Tywin and I before we even knew it. 

“Of course, that’s what it is, you-“ Margaery smiled and began to tease, but suddenly ceased to speak, and I watched her press her hands into her abdomen.

“Margaery?” I asked, rising from my chair and moving over to her. She didn’t look well. She gripped onto my arm then, and I reached under her.

“Let’s get you to a maester, hm? I’m certain it’s nothing,” I said, trying to reassure her. She nodded, and I helped her up. 

We made it halfway across the room, and then I felt the strength fade from her arms. She fell to the floor, one hand clutching the cold stone and the other on her stomach.

“(Y/N)… h-help,” she gasped out, making my eyes widened. I had no idea what was happening, let alone what to do. 

I got down beside her, placing a hand on her back and trying to figure out what was going on.

“What hurts, Margaery? Where?” I questioned, watching as she clutched her lower stomach and began to cry. 

“Are you menstruating? You get quite bad cramps sometimes,” I reasoned, recalling all the times the maesters had given her milk of the poppy growing up. 

“N-No, I’m not,” she said quietly, still trying to handle all the pain.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes! I’m pregnant,” she gasped out, making my eyes go wide.

Pregnant?

Who was I kidding, of course she was pregnant. I knew my grandmother had given her a talk about striking quickly and cementing herself as queen, but I just… I didn’t quite expect it. 

Nothing ever could have prepared me to see my sister get married and have kids. In my head she was always just my younger sister, someone to protect and comfort. It was easy to forget that she was advancing in her life much faster than I was.

With all that aside, though, I wracked my brain trying to figure out what could be happening if it wasn’t menstrual cramps.  

Just then, I saw blood begin to emerge from under her skirt, and it all clicked in my head.

Oh gods. 

When I looked over at Margaery, she had a numb look on her face for a moment, and then she began to sob. 

“Y-(Y/N)… help, help me. My baby… my baby,” she cried out, still desperately holding her abdomen. I was beginning to panic, I had not a single clue what to do when a woman was having a miscarriage. 

“I need to get a maester, Margaery. I’m going to get a maester,” I whispered, and she shook her head vehemently.

“No! N-No… I don’t want people to know… they can’t know,” she sobbed. My heart broke. I didn’t want to imagine what kind of gossip would circulate if people were to find out. 

“Well I need to go get someone… I need to find someone. My chambermaid, she’ll know… she’ll know what to do,” I said, trying to reassure myself just as much as I was trying to reassure Margaery. 

“Stay… stay, please,” Margaery cried, holding onto me. I pressed her face into my chest as she wept, and I tried to rock her back and forth. I was still shaking.

“I’m so sorry, Margaery, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, wishing I could’ve known sooner. Maybe there was something we could’ve done. Deep down I knew the answer to that, though. 

All she could do was sob into my arms, and I found myself petting her hair. My sister was having a miscarriage and there was nothing I could do to stop it. 

My, the gods were so cruel. 

I felt my heart sink. Was this my punishment for challenging the high sparrow? 

I buried my face in Margaery’s hair, kissing her head and trying to soothe her as her sobs grew louder. 

I was trying to create a plan. I needed to find Cerella, she would know how to help Margaery physically and make certain nothing else was wrong. 

But I also needed to clean up all the blood from the floor, and I had no idea where to start. 

“Margaery, can you stand? I want to get you to the bed, sweetie,” I whispered, wrapping my arms all the way around her. Slowly, I helped her rise, grabbing at her skirts so they wouldn’t get even bloodier than they already were. The pain in my thigh was horrible, but I ignored it completely. There were more important matters now. 

I helped her to lay down on the bed, letting her clutch a pillow for comfort. I then ran to the door, opening it just enough to stick my head out. 

Instantly, I found two maids chatting with each other as they walked about the halls.

“Ladies! I need urgent help, please. Can one of you find Cerella and the other fetch a bucket of water? It truly is an emergency. Please tell Cerella to bring medicine,” I said, to which they instantly nodded and ran off in a hurry. I sighed out as I closed the door again, searching the room and finding a few towels that I could use to clean once everything else was dealt with. 

I made my way over to Margaery again, sitting beside her on the bed. She sat up, embracing me and crying into my shoulder. 

“I am so sorry, Margaery. I’m so, so sorry. I wish I could take the pain for you,” I muttered, truly wishing she didn’t have to go through this.

“I know, (Y/N), I know,” she whispered, still shaking in my arms. Or perhaps we were both shaking, it was hard to tell. 

Just then, the door opened behind us and I found Cerella coming in with both a bucket of water and a small bag. She instantly saw the blood on the floor and saw Margaery crying into my arms, making her close the door rather quickly. 

She set the water down, rushing over to us.

“What happened?” She asked softly, looking Margaery over but not spotting any obvious wound. 

I motioned for her to lean down, and subtly explained what had happened. She nodded sympathetically.

“There’s nothing we can do, Lady Margaery, but I can give you milk of the poppy for the pain and perhaps essence of nightshade to help you sleep,” Cerella offered, to which Margaery nodded and sniffled.

Cerella poured out the dosages and gave them to her, watching as I continued to pet Margaery’s hair until she fell asleep. 

When we were certain she was no longer conscious, I went into her wardrobe and brought out her sleeping gown, carefully putting her into it with Cerella’s help. Afterwards, took her bloodied dress and sighed.

“Burn the dress, Cerella. That much blood won’t come out, and I don’t want to leave any evidence behind. Do it now, I’ll tend to the floor myself,” I said, watching her swallow and nod.

“If you need assistance with anything else, my lady, please let me know.”

“I will, thank you very much for helping my sister. She didn’t want a maester, she was worried people would find out,” I explained, leaning down and kissing my sister's forehead as I tucked her under the covers.

“I understand, my lady. I’ll go burn the dress now,” she said, excusing herself once I’d nodded and leaving me alone with Margaery. 

When she was gone, I began to cry. I’d spent a lifetime attempting to bring joy and comfort into my siblings' lives just to realize that there was nothing I could do to prevent them from trauma and pain was a startling thought. I could not protect Loras from marriage, I could not protect Margaery from this. 

I wanted more than anything to take this pain away from Margaery, and I realized then I ought to send a raven to Highgarden. It would be beneficial for my grandmother to be here, as Margaery relied on her more than anyone. 

Plus, I would not be able to give her the comfort and help necessary due to my constant involvement in politics and such. Yes, I would send for my grandmother.

With a sigh, I made my way across the room, grabbing the towels I’d set aside and getting down on my knees. First, I soaked up the blood on the floor, knowing if I used water first it would cause an even bigger mess.

There was so much blood I could not comprehend it, and I had to close my eyes and bite my lip to keep myself from sobbing too loudly. I continued to cry as I cleaned it up, feeling such a distinct pain in knowing I’d been unable to ensure my siblings’ happiness. 

In my own way, I also grieved the lost child. I’d always imagined myself doing quite well with Loras or Margaery’s children, and if I’d known she was pregnant in any other circumstance I would’ve been overjoyed.

I found myself disassociating as I finished wiping the blood away, and my hands were shaking without my consciousness. The blood had stained the tile, and I let some of the water pour onto the floor, using a new towel to now clean the tile. 

It took more than an hour to remove the blood completely, and I felt exhausted when I had finished. Thankfully, Margaery had slept through the whole thing, and Cerella had come back to check on us.

“Is there anything else you need help with? I can take the bucket and burn the towels too,” she offered, to which I nodded and sighed, sitting down and rubbing my sore knees. I drank my wine with a tremor in my hand, hoping to numb myself a bit further. 

“I’d like to have new flowers brought in. Bright ones. And perhaps summon Ser Elias, I’d like to rearrange some of the furniture. I want to alter the room so that she won’t think of it every time she’s in here,” I said, to which Cerella nodded and instantly set off with the towels and bucket. 

I remained in the room for the rest of the day, and when Margaery had woken later in the afternoon, the furniture had already been fixed and flowers had already been added. Though she cried, I could tell she was grateful. 

I helped her drink and eat, though it was not very much. Either way, I took it upon myself to help her through this however I could. 

When it grew late, I stayed in her room and slept beside her in her own bed. I suspected Tywin would question where I was tomorrow, but that was a matter I would handle then and not now.

Now, the only thing that mattered to me was my sister, fast asleep in my arms, just as she had been when we were children and she’d had nightmares. 

Though, I wished it had been a nightmare. I wished I could wake her and tell her all was well. 

But no, the gods had not been so kind. It seemed they never were.

—————

I’d returned to my room late in the morning, having already written to my grandmother and helped Margaery get dressed. She went to the gardens with Ser Elias, and I couldn’t blame her for wanting to get out of the room and into the fresh air. 

I spent the majority of the day reading and trying to blur out what had happened. Every time I lost my train of thought, the image came back and I forced myself to keep going.

By the time the sun had set, I’d finished the book I hadn’t been able to complete for weeks now. It was with a reluctant sigh that I had called upon Cerella to draw a bath for me.

More than anything, I was just enjoying the warm water and trying to clear my head. Cerella had offered to stay and help me bathe, but I told her I’d do it all myself. 

Of course, the second I got into the bath, there was a knock upon the door. 

“Lady (Y/N)?”

The voice was unmistakably Tywin’s, and I smiled as I settled into the water.

“Enter!”

The door opened and then closed, and I watched him step into the room and look around. He gave me a gentle smile when he saw me in the bathtub. Without a word, I watched him remove his coat and his ascot, coming to sit on the floor beside the tub.

“I can wash your hair, if you’d like,” he offered, lifting the hand I was resting on the side of the tub to his lips. 

“That would be very nice, Tywin. Thank you,” I said softly, leaning my head back a bit as he rolled up his sleeves and got to work wetting my hair. 

“I used to do this for Joanna. I did it quite a lot, actually. She always had such long hair, it was hard for her to do it herself,” he revealed, adding in the soap to my hair. 

“And why not have her chambermaids do it? Surely that would’ve been more proper,” I questioned, teasing slightly but also curious. 

“A man ought to be able to care for his wife. Or his lover,” he remarked, adding more water to my hair and massaging my scalp a bit. It felt good, and it helped relieve the headache I’d had practically for two days now. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here last night, I was with Margaery. She was rather sentimental, I think she may be missing our grandmother,” I said after a moment, certain he was going to ask about it. It was a lie, and for once I felt it sounded like one. 

“It’s quite fine. What did you two discuss?” He asked. Yes, he seemed to think it was a lie as well. 

“We… we discussed-“

“You’re lying. I know you were with Margaery, our chambermaid told me that much. But you’re lying, I can tell,” he noted, finished with my hair and now merely sitting beside me. 

“Your head is probably jumping to hurtful conclusions, but it wasn’t anything like that. I’m not avoiding you, or speaking poorly of you. I just- I promised Margaery I wouldn’t speak of it to anyone,” I said, slowly washing my skin. I did not miss the look over Tywin was giving me. 

“If you’re concerned with rumors spreading, you have my word. I trust you more than any of my own children, (Y/N). You know that,” he said, reaching for my towel and wrapping me in it as I stood up. 

“I’m aware of that, and it’s not a matter of trust. I trust you with nearly all of my secrets, Tywin, you know that. But the reason I was with Margaery yesterday isn’t for me to share with you,” I said, making him raise an eyebrow.

“Nearly all of your secrets?”

“Well, a woman must stay somewhat mysterious. There are things you know that not even my family does,” I admitted, watching his curiosity be piqued. 

“Such as?”

“My family’s never heard me sing before,” I said, which was truthful. I feared it might ruin my reputation.

“You told me you sang with Jaime’s man when the three of you were in Dorne,” he said, clearly a bit jealous. I laughed softly.

“He had a good voice, why shouldn’t I? You know me better than anyone else, Tywin. That’s the point I’m making,” I assured him, slipping into my undergarments and then into my nightgown. 

“I will take your word for it. Just know, if you do want to discuss whatever happened yesterday, I’m all ears,” he said while removing his boots. I was glad he’d be staying tonight, I felt I needed it.

“Well, rest assured I won’t be telling you about it any time-“ my voice trailed off as I looked down.

I began to cry. 

Tywin was instantly by my side when he realized, trying to figure out what was happening.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” 

After a moment, he noticed the blood coming through my undergarments and relaxed a bit. My monthly had come, and though to him it appeared normal, it felt like very bad timing considering what had just happened.

“It’s your monthly, isn’t it? No need to cry over that,” he said, searching my drawers for fresh undergarments. When I continued to cry, he looked back over.

“It is your monthly, isn’t it?” He asked. There was a hint of fear in his voice, and I realized then he was considering the possibility that I was having a miscarriage. 

“It’s my monthly, don’t- don’t worry,” I choked out, sitting down on the ottoman and sobbing into my hands. He sat down beside me, hand on my back. 

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)? Please tell me,” he whispered, cupping my cheek so I would look at him. I buried my head into his shoulder, still feeling overwhelmed. 

“Margaery had a- a miscarriage yesterday. I s-shouldn’t be telling you that, but I can’t stop thinking about it,” I cried, feeling his arms wrap around me as he held me close. 

“Oh sweet girl. My condolences to both of you, it’s not easy to overcome,” he said softly, petting my hair. 

“It happened while I was with her, Tywin. I’d initially gone over just to talk with her, and then- and then her pain got worse and she began to bleed. And maybe if I’d- if I’d figured it out quicker or acted faster she wouldn’t have… she wouldn’t have…” I couldn’t finish my sentence, I was crying too much at this point. I felt a deep guilt about what had happened, as if I should’ve been able to prevent the event.

“(Y/N), it’s not your fault. The gods take children from us the same way we pick flowers from bushes. At that point, there was nothing you could’ve done,” he reassured me, placing a kiss on my head.

“I just- I feel as though I’ve failed her. My entire life- my entire life, I’ve dedicated myself to protecting my siblings, to keeping them safe and happy. I just- I hate knowing that there are things I can’t protect them from anymore,” I expressed, still crying as he held me. 

“I know, sweet girl. Trust me, I know, and I’m sorry,” he muttered, rocking me gently. 

“I wish I could take the pain for her, physically and emotionally. I wish I could take all my siblings' burdens for them,” I said softly, truly wanting to do so. 

“Margaery will obviously need time to recover, but she’s as capable as you are. I feel confident that she will come back just as you do, resiliently and even stronger,” he assured me, cupping my face in both of his hands. 

I nodded, letting him wipe my tears and kiss me sweetly. 

“Did Tommen know she was pregnant?” I asked softly, not sure what the situation was.

“I don’t believe anyone did, otherwise announcements would’ve been made and I certainly would’ve known. I won’t tell him, if Margaery wishes to I’ll let her do it,” he said, knowing why I was asking. It wouldn’t have been logical to not tell him first if he’d already known, but if he hadn’t known to begin with, then I suspected Margaery would want to keep it to herself. 

“I don’t want people to find out. Ever.”

“I understand, (Y/N). Now here, change so we can go to sleep,” he said, handing me the clean undergarments. I nodded, changing and preparing them as needed so I wouldn’t bleed through. Tywin removed his boots and shirt as I did, I was met with a pleasant surprise upon turning around. 

“You’re so handsome, Tywin,” I whispered, stepping toward him and kissing his forehead. His hands came to my hips, and he leaned into me for a moment. After that, I felt him pick me up, and I squealed slightly as he carried me to bed, setting me down with a gentle smile. 

I watched carefully as he made his way around the room, extinguishing most of the candles before coming to bed and finally removing his pants. Now only in his undergarments, he joined me under the covers and pulled my back into his chest.. 

“You’re a wonderful sister, (Y/N), never forget that. You’ve always defended your family more passionately than anything else, so don’t blame yourself for what’s happened,” he whispered, nuzzling into my neck. 

“And who should I blame then?” I questioned. For a moment, he was silent. 

“Blame a god we do not follow in Westeros.”

I nodded, aware of the many faced god that had a decent following in Essos. I couldn’t blame them, for it was a fact that death was inevitable. Or, as they liked to say: Valar Morghulis

All men must die.

As I felt Tywin shift behind me, my heart sank. Could the many faced god take another god? Or, a god among men, it seemed. 

Yes, he certainly could. Though, whenever he decided to do it, he would receive two souls, not just one. I would make sure of that when the day came.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul @nothing2113 

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8 

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice @muscari-fae @lostgirllulu @abigfanofgameofthrones

[what-even-is-thiss]

I would like to request some advice: how do you keep creating smth when it sucks?? I'm at 3/4 completed (chapter-wise) with my latest project and the plot doesn't make sense and the characters don't have defined personalities. I need to just push through so it's at least *done*, but I can't seem to force myself to actually do it since I'm just writing as a hobby. any tips for external motivation?? thanks so much!!

Sometimes your brain needs a little rest. The common narrative around writing is that you should write everyday. But not everyone benefits from this. Every time I’ve tried writing every day for a while I’ve just burnt myself out.

Several years ago I wrote fanfiction. And I was writing short pieces every day for months because I loved getting feedback and I was passionate about the fandom I was writing for. But I burnt myself out on writing fanfiction because of that. I’ve never been able to replicate that type of writing schedule since.

Sometimes you need to look at your precious beloved projects and realize that you’re not helping yourself or your art if you decide to just push through.

There’s a lot of things you can do to help writers block. You can take a few days or weeks off. You can read things you like, things you don’t like, talk with other writers and get inspiration from them. You can start all over. Scrap everything. You can try to write your story backwards. You can try to use the most dangerous writing app to scare yourself into working. You can tell a friend “Hey I’m gonna have a rough draft ready for you by Friday. Hold me accountable to that.”

But if you hate what you’re doing, ask why that is. Ask for some outside help. Get someone you trust to mark up your story with red pen. Do you like this story? Are you actually excited about this idea? Is there a character you can cut? A character you can add? Is this even the story you want to tell with this idea? Would you get a different perspective on this if you sat upside down on the couch for a while and went for a walk?

And most importantly, are you being realistic with yourself? Are you holding yourself to too high of a standard? Are you sticking to a writing routine that worked for you when you were younger but doesn’t work for you anymore? Do you need a snack and a glass of beer? When was the last time you called your mother? Have you been eating your vegetables?

Most of all, don’t beat yourself up about it. Writers block happens to the best of us. Remember to breathe.

[bas1cb01ch]

Maybe this is a good read for you like it was for me. The words say a lot that I can’t and but feel…..

1. I’m sorry about many many things I did & so much I didn’t do.

2.I’m grateful to have been loved by you once. I wasn’t ready for u cos I didn’t feel worthy of being loved so much.

3. I’m attracted to the man that you are not only your strength physically but your will to be the man that others doubted and despite all circumstances U r a great father, brother, son and a good man.

4.I’m like a school girl with butterflies whenever I hear from you. Even if we fight there is not anyone else that I’d rather talk too or grow with.

5.I’m still blown away that you are the only one in the world who has ever been able to surprise me. I wish I listened more to what you needed so I could surprise you by being someone that you could count on.

6.Im never going to forget the imperfections that made being your woman a perfect gift. I wish I could have given you more so you see the value in my flaws which outweighs my mistakes from the past.

7.I’ve never experienced so much passion with someone else. U made me feel wanted and desired. I felt sexy and comfortable in my skin but mostly I felt safe enough to follow your lead and trusted you to explore areas I’ve never been, do things I’ve never done and side of myself I never felt

8.I’m afraid I will never want to pleasure or trust to be as satisfied intimately unless it’s u

9.I’ve never been humbled enough for my pride to want to change into being a better woman until I meet you. U inspired me to a better woman and to fear God and the Bible’s truth.

10.I miss when i don’t hear about your day. And I’m brought to tears when u don’t respond back knowing you got my message.

11.I’ve never had so much given and not been able to give them back anything in return.

12. I answer everything you ask not being defensive or honor you by being as open with you as possible . I’ve tried my best even if it’s too late.

13.Im embarrassed that the 1 person who does know the “real me” would rather be alone or must have a “good reason” to spend time with me.

14. I agree Setting boundaries in your life is beneficial for your health mind and body. I wish you for everyone else only allowing you to know the whole real me

15. I regret what I did said in anger and immaturity when I did not say anything.

16. Being weak and needy when I meant to show that trust u enough to be venerable. I needed help and believed u will teach me everything you know and honor me with the truthful reality of life situations

17. Ive let my guard down exposing myself in a way that was confusing, irritating, mean at times and it was unfair to you. I’m sorry I didn’t express how i really felt and respond to you with the respect & love I have to you wish u also deserved. I honestly never had bad intentions even though many problems were miss understandings I should’ve done better at being proactive instead of reactive.

18. I should have set boundaries that were righteous not selfish and disciplined enough to keep them because now strangers u r alone and confides in strangers instead of being with family and people who love u

I didn’t want to lose your respect but continuing to be mistreated and trying to be understanding when I was not being understood brought nothing of any value into your life enough of love was there

We both have been working on being better and I’m proud of you especially since you have been doing it on your own.

I’m so proud of you with what you’ve already accomplished in life and excited for your future and the you that you to will be proud of.

I’m blessed every day with your presence even if it’s only though my prayers.

Im forever in your debt and will stand up for u even if u r wrong. We could never speak again but know u have my loyalty & can call me anytime from anywhere for anything. Not only because that’s how I was raised but I know that’s how I was created.

God doesn’t make mistakes. I know this only because you shared your faith with me.

We are connected for life even if we don’t know why or understand why we are.

I only know that everything was worth it for me meant pray for you always

I didn’t want to lose your respect I lost t bring your life enough value in return.

We both have been working on being better and I’m proud of you especially since you have been doing it on your own.

I’m so proud of you with what you’ve already accomplished in life and excited for your future and the you that you to will be proud of.

I’m blessed every day with your presence even if it’s only though my prayers. I want to be with you but I don’t want to beg want you to want me. Love me and respect me.

Im forever in your debt and will stand up for u even if u r wrong. We could never speak again but know u have my loyalty & can call me anytime from anywhere for anything. Not only because that’s how I was raised but I know that’s how I was created.

God doesn’t make mistakes. I know this only because you shared your faith with me. We are connected for life even if we don’t know why or understand why we are.

I only know that everything was worth it for me even though I am alone in the end and hurt beyond belief your actions are inexcusable but I forgive you and I also want to forgive myself.

I will always love you and who knows maybe when you read this u too will be at a place of maturity to forgive yourself and me. I hope for the day we can put this pain away and bring everything we learned to a place where God can rebuild us as individuals and honest LT us as a couple.

I will pray for you always and want you to release everything that doesn’t give you peace and happiness even if that means letting go of me. We all deserve love and if I can’t love u correctly I want you to find someone who does and that the rest of your life is 100x better than the it’s been

[bewitchingbooktours]

Author Interview- Storm's Convergence by Valerie Storm #YAFantasy

What inspired you to become an author?

I started writing fanfic of video games when I was about ten years old. The love of creating my own world with characters I admired, combined with being a voracious reader, set me on this path.

How did you come up with the title for your latest book?

Storm’s Convergence was actually a last-minute change suggested by my publisher, when I told her I wasn’t certain how I felt about the title. I wanted something about storms, but that implied there were many of them coming together.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

The biggest lesson I want readers to gather from Demon Storm, but specifically Storm’s Convergence, is to learn to trust those who love you, as well as yourself. The world is hard and dark, and we can’t make it through alone.

What books/authors have influenced your life?

Many, many books. Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, the Magic Circle series, the Elemental Trilogy…the biggest for the Demon Storm series (and thus my life) as a whole was probably Sara Wolf’s Bring Me Their Hearts.

Can you share a little of your current work with us?

I’m currently working on an anthology story that will present in Shadow Spark Publishing’s Cozyish! I’m also going through basic edits for Demon Storm’s book 6, The Storm Breaks.

Who designed the cover of your latest book?

My covers are all drawn by Ginka on Twitter (@Ginkahederling). For Storm’s Convergence, I had Azshure (@Azshure13) sketch the concept and Ginka did the rest!

Do you have any advice for other writers?

Don’t stop writing, no matter what anyone says to you. Follow YOUR passion, and the rest will follow. I would have given up so many times if I didn’t believe in myself or love the story I want to tell.

Just for fun - if you could have one paranormal ability, what would it be?

I would choose telekinesis! The idea of being able to move things with a thought sounds so amazing.

Storm's Convergence

Demon Storm 

Book 5

Valerie Storm

Genre: Young Adult Fantasy

Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing

Date of Publication: 2/13/24

Cover Artist: @Ginkahederling

ASIN: B0CRYQJRN1

Number of pages: 313

Word Count: 78962

Tagline: The Fire Witch ruined Kari's life once before

                Now she's back

                And she's not alone

Book Description: 

The calm can only last so long.

Now a member of Freehaven's Council, Kari tries to put her past behind her and settle down in her new home with her ever-present Lord and love, Ari.

Cracks in her mind, parting gifts from the heart eater, make planning the upcoming Spring Festival a struggle, but Kari is determined to do her best, even after Guine departs the town.

When a mysterious child appears at the festival and marks Kari, all semblance of normalcy is banished.

A triple threat from her past awaits beyond the walls of Freehaven and options are thin. Not willing to spill any more blood, Kari takes it upon herself to stop them—with Ari by her side.

Amazon

Excerpt:

The girl grabbed the neckline of her shirt and jerked her closer with too much ease. Kari stiffened as the girl’s cheek touched hers.

“Funny wolf demon, hiding in this wretched town.” Her voice was low and cruelly amused. Kari tensed, prepared to jerk free and throw a fist, but the girl hissed, “Ah, no, don’t move. There are many innocents here, though I would not call demons innocent. I know you would not want them hurt.”

She suddenly realized the closeness of so many villagers, as if she’d been ripped out of reality and dropped harshly back into it again.

Kari bit back a growl. “Who are you?”

She knew, though, before the small girl laughed. The boastful yet righteous arrogance of someone who believed truly and wholly in her cause—it could be no one else.

“I feel your defeat. You’ve answered your own question.”

Kari’s throat was dry. “Ri…Riniko. What are you doing here? Why—”

“Since you’ve yet to heed our warning, I’m here to play a little game.”

“Kari!” Ari called.

Riniko’s small hands tightened. “Tell him to leave. We’re busy.”

She hesitated. Ari yelled for her again, and now she envisioned him pushing through the crowds, looking for where she’d gone.

“It’s fine,” she yelled back. “I…I’m helping someone. I’ll catch up!”

Riniko’s grip didn’t loosen. “Your boy is insistent.”

Kari turned her head with some difficulty, given Riniko’s grip. The little witch traded, wrapping her arms around Kari’s neck with a giggle that cracked against her eardrums.

Visible between passersby, Ari made his way to them. His brows raised at the sight of the girl around her neck.

“Who is…”

Kari smiled, big and wide, and prayed he didn’t notice her trembling lips. “She’s lost. I’m part of the Council, so she came to me. Go back to Rathik and Essie, I’ll catch up.”

Ari saw something in her face; his eyes constricted, his jaw pulsing, uncertain of what to do. Please walk away, Ari. It’ll be okay this time. I promise.

When she did not say anything more, he relented. “Alright. Meet us over there, okay?”

Kari nodded, jostling Riniko. Ari glanced between them, then jogged off.

Riniko giggled again, quieter this time. “Good.”

Kari grabbed her around the waist and yanked her off. There was something insanely surreal about holding a small child in her hands, a child whose eyes burned with unmatched cruelty and fire.

“What do you want?” she snarled.

Riniko wrapped too-small fingers around Kari’s wrists and met her eye with a cool, even gaze.

“You know what we want. I’m only here to set the fire of action a little higher for you.” Her palms, pressed against Kari’s skin, warmed. Kari’s eyes widened, and she struggled with the instinct to fling the small child away.

“We do not want to burn this entire village to the ground. Despite the way these villagers associate with demons, they are still good, innocent people. The demons can be excused as long as they remain thusly. But you cannot. You must come and face your fate.”

Her arms were burning; Kari bit back a scream. “I keep telling you, I don’t want to hurt anyone! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Tell that to those poor people in the east. They probably thought you didn’t want to kill them. But now they’re very, very dead.”

Kari staggered back. There were fewer villagers out now, less to see this odd pair, but Kari dreaded what Riniko would do if even one was drawn to them. She inched away from the square, edging toward an alley between two buildings.

“Isn’t it enough that I died once? What more can you want?”

Riniko laughed. “Oh, yes, but Zina got cold feet. Superstition, I guess. She couldn’t let it die with you. No, she believed it would go on, despite having no body. So here you are, her little pet wolf demon, but she won’t be here to save you a second time.”

Cold feet? Let it die with her?

The burning on her arms increased, snapping her attention back to Riniko’s young-girl face. “I’ll come to you,” Kari croaked. “Does that make you happy? I’ll leave and find you.”

Riniko’s eyes lit up, though she did not remove her hands. The heat continued to rise until Kari thought she could smell her flesh cooking.

“Oh, do you promise?” Riniko asked, her voice girlish, sickeningly sweet. “Pretty please?”

“Please stop,” Kari whispered between her teeth.

Little hands lifted, releasing her from the agony of fire. Kari trembled, then froze as those hands touched her cheeks.

“It was easy to infiltrate this place, Kari. It would be even easier, now, to set it all ablaze. You remember my previous work.”

Kari’s hands around Riniko’s waist shook with the effort to not squeeze her into pieces. “You’re the monster, witch,” she snarled.

“It takes a monster to slay one,” Riniko responded. “Remember that if you decide to hesitate any longer. I’m tired of waiting for this final show. My sisters have both seen that I was right and now it’s time to end this.” Riniko raised her hands. “Put me down.”

Shaking profusely, Kari set Riniko on the ground, where the little witch-girl brushed off her plain, brown dress. She fluffed her hair, then raised a finger to her lips.

“Remember your promise,” she said, then spun and skipped away into the darkness.

About the Author:

Valerie Storm was raised in Tucson, Arizona. Growing up, she fell in love with everything fantasy. When she wasn’t playing video games, she was writing. By age ten, she began to write her own stories as a way to escape reality. When these stories became a full-length series, she considered the path to sharing with other children & children-at/heart looking for a place to call home.

Blog https://rantsofawriter.home.blog/ 

Twitter https://twitter.com/valerie_storm 

Tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/valeriestorm 

Pinterest https://www.pinterest.com/valeriestorm3135/

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/valeriestorm_author/ 

Newsletter Sign-Up https://mailchi.mp/038f1013a6c2/valerie-storm

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100082414584775 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

[azalea-bee]

grabs you OC TIME!!! ✨🧠🍀✏️ for all your guys!!!

OC TIME YAYY TY hehehe

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

for all of my ocs, the name is usually one of the last things i pick out when i’m creating them :P i like to get a good sense of their appearance, sense of style, gender/pronouns, personality, and the setting (ie, modern, fantasy, historical etc) they’re gonna be in first! and then i just browse baby name sites or whatever until i find something that i think goes well with all of that :D and i try to find names that i like the meaning of too even if it’s not like. directly relevant to them hehe

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

dove, cassia, micah, emrys and winnie are all a group and got created at the same time so they have pretty much the same inspo! i don’t remember exactly what my thought process was but my favorite kind of stories are about found family and close friendships/relationships that don’t really fall into the traditional family roles of parents, kids, siblings etc but still love each other a lot! so they’re my own self-indulgent version of that trope placed into a modern fantasy world setting with complicated magic vaguely inspired by a few various minecraft smps :]

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

micah— they have 100% dormant/hidden catshifter traits!! they do confusing cat behaviors all the time and nobody knows why bc they look entirely human and that’s very funny to me skdhdj. misunderstood kitty <3

winnie— she’s a regressor!! it’s not a big focus of her character in the main story i have in my head but small winnie is so so important to me..they’re just tiny sometimes.. :’]

cassia— i accidentally ended up projecting a bunch of my disability woes onto him (sorry cassia </3) so that part of his character is rly important to me!! also she/him pronouns for the win :D

dove— i love love love the way she dresses! a million accessories at all times and funky colorful patterns and a new complicated hairstyle and makeup combo every day and a hint of gothic witchy vibes to top it all off. if i was capable of choosing just one aesthetic to dress myself for the rest of my life i’d pick hers hehehe

emrys— lion!!! shifter!! he’s the only one of this group who’s able to actually fully turn into an animal and i love the way i made his shifting work in this world he’s placed in. always complicated to explain so i won’t try rn but trust me in my head it makes me very happy <3

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

agh. i have perpetual art/writing block and my disabilities make it so so hard to create anything so i basically just have crumbs. i have sketches of almost all of them and little pieces of disconnected story tidbits here and there but mostly they all live in extensive pinterest boards and a million headcanons that if i’m lucky i remember to write down on my phone skdhj. but they are rotating in my brain almost constantly trust me hehehe

tysm for asking and giving me an excuse to ramble abt them!! <33

[dorksideoftheforce]

Love doesn’t just go away even when things don’t work out and I’m so here for it because Love is always gonna be there, without expectations. Love takes so many different forms and it’s such a deeply rooted thing within each of us that sometimes, we get scared when we see the different ways in which others express the Love that is within them and we are like woah, hold up… either that isn’t love, that love is really intense and I don’t know if I’ll be able to give you that kind of love because you are scared or whatever the case may be but at the end of it all; you are worthy of a genuine love that loves you for who you are in every moment, not the idea of you but the true essence of who you are because we love people as deeply as we’ve learned to love ourselves - you deserve that kind of love within yourself and with others and I hope you keep holding on to it - I hope you hold on to love and hope and also let it flow through your fingers and throughout your being like a waterfall because Love moves through every part of you, you just gotta believe that. You gotta hold on to Hope. You love people because you love them, not because they love you. Love isn’t selfish. It is patient and forgiving, so graceful and wowzers; it’s Hope that fans the fire in your heart that acts as a light so you have the courage to go deep within the depths of your soul and meets every part of you with Love and kindness and makes you want to be the best person you can be. I might be sad that things didn’t go the way I so…so wish they could have but who’s to say that what could come out of those situations will be bad? We have no idea and how could I ever be mad at Love and being the person that I am because of it because even though Love has made me soft asf, I have dove into the depths of myself to love myself through every part of me and now that I’m out of a lot of my stuff, I know that whatever is meant for me is gonna happen. I know my worth. I know my value. I am so grateful to have been able to receive closure from things I prayed God for and I let go of everything that doesn’t hold on to me and help serve my highest good. Loving from a distance is valuable too. I appreciate it all, especially the time and Love that people have given me because it will not go to waste and it will never be taken for granted. Life is way too short and while I’m here, I’m gonna have a beautiful life and keep loving and spreading kindness and I’m also gonna keep fighting for Trans Rights and Human Rights because everybody deserves to be treated with kindness and compassion so if you need me, know that that’s where I’ll be because I’m done letting my fears and doubts suck the joy out of my life. I know what I want and I’m coming for it, baby. What you seek is seeking you so keep your heart open to all the possibilities - let your faith be stronger than your fear because you can’t have both. You are inherently worthy of Life and Love and your existence matters. There’s an entire universe within you - everything that’s ever been here is breathed into you when you breathe cause don’t you realize that you are a miracle and are meant to be here. Don’t miss out on good things just because they are scary. What’s meant for you will always find you, you just need to believe that you deserve it. I don’t want you to miss out. All the effort you put in to yourself, your dreams, passions and self right now, it’s inspiring and you just gotta believe that you deserve it cause your hard work isn’t for nothing. I’m rooting for you and the love that you are creating in your life; with yourself so you get to where YOU want to be within you and I’m rooting for the love you have with other people because they are in your life for a reason too. People who will want to learn about you and grow with you and thrive with you. Let go of everything that doesn’t hold on to you consistently and make you happy to be alive; keep faith, trust and hold your own hand until you get to where you wanna be. Make sure you drink water because it’s not for the weak; your organs need it to function

and it helps your body heal. Protect your mind and spirit and something beautiful I learned from someone who helped make me into who I am now; Hope is griefs best music. I love you with all I am. I truly do.

- Jacob Wolf

[jdgo51]

Why Isn't God Answering My Prayer?

Today's inspiration comes from:

Seeing Beautiful Again

by Lysa TerKeurst

"We know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." — Romans 8:28 ESV

"'In 2015, the New York Times ran an article called “Googling for God.”1 In this article, author Seth Stephens-Davidowitz started by saying, “It has been a bad decade for God, at least so far.” He went on to ask, “What questions do people have when they are questioning God?” The number one question was “Who created God?” The number two question was “Why does God allow suffering?” But it was the third question that slammed into my heart and made me realize the depth at which many of us struggle when we walk through devastating situations: “Why does God hate me?”

I’m not alone in wondering about God’s feelings when circumstances beg me to feel betrayed. While I would have never used the word hate, seeing it typed out as one of the most commonly asked questions about God shows me just how dark our perspective can get. The most devastating spiritual crisis isn’t when we wonder why God isn’t doing something. It’s when we become utterly convinced He no longer cares. And that’s what I hear hiding behind that Google search.

And I shudder to say this, but I think that’s what was hiding behind my own disillusionment as well.

What makes faith fall apart isn’t doubt. It’s becoming too certain of the wrong things. Things like: Forgiveness doesn’t matter. It’s not worth it. It’s not time for that kind of obedience. God isn’t moving. What I see is absolute proof that God isn’t working.

That’s where I can find myself getting more and more skeptical of God’s love, God’s provision, God’s protection, God’s instructions, and God’s faithfulness. And most of all, where I start fearing He really has no plan at all, and I’m just truly going to be a victim of circumstances beyond anyone’s control.

The problem with that thinking is, while it may line up with what my life looks like from my place of pain and confusion, it doesn’t line up with truth. And before everything went haywire in my life, I had already put a stake in the ground, proclaiming that God’s Word is where I would turn and return to no matter what.

I could resist trusting God and turning to His truth. I could run from it. I could, with bitter resignation, put my Bible on a shelf to collect dust for years. But I wouldn’t be able to escape what was already buried deep in my heart.

I knew in this deep-down knowing place that what I was seeing wasn’t all that was happening. Past experiences where I have seen God’s faithfulness remind me that I don’t always see God working in the midst of my hard times.

God is active even if we can’t see His activity.

There are a few times in my life where I’ve seen dramatic moves by God happen quick enough for me to say, “Wow, look what God is doing!” But most of the time, it’s thousands of little shifts so slight that the dailiness of His work doesn’t register in real time.

It’s hard when we are living in that space where our head knows God can do anything but our heart is heavy because He’s not doing what we are hoping for, what we’ve prayed for, what we’ve believed for, for a long while. I get it — and I’ve cried many tears because of it.

So what helps? It helps to know these things:

God is active even if we can’t see His activity. Just because we can’t discern or detect what He’s doing, doesn’t mean He isn’t working. We fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:18)

What may feel like a lack of intervention is not a sign of His lack of affection. This I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:21-23)

God loves us too much to answer our prayers at any other time than the right time, and in any other way than the right way. We know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28 ESV)

Today look for beautiful ways God is showing you assurances of His love. His deep affection is all around you, friend. Even in the waiting places.

God, I confess it’s easy for me to become skeptical when things are not working out the way I had planned. Even when I don’t see it… even when I don’t feel it… I will stand on the truth that You are working all things together for good. In Jesus’ name, amen."'

Seth Stephens-Davidowitz, “Googling for God,” New York Times, 2015, https://www.nytimes.com/2015/09/20/opinion/sunday/seth -stephens-davidowitz-googling-for-god.html.

Excerpted with permission from Seeing Beautiful Again by Lysa TerKeurst, copyright Lysa TerKeurst.

[kentolove]

iwaizumi hajime x reader

genre: exes reunion, angst, barely there fluff tbh but I think it can count as fluff, Just iwa being in love :(

summary: He turned away. Your heart is no longer his, but his will always be yours.

1.2k words

a/n: my lovely Lily or @9kenma​ wrote a very very beautiful kenma exes fic (which u should read [i’m forcing you to] so here is the link to it) pleasee go read her fic cause it’s the sole reason as to why this exists lol!! (also binge her masterlist as well she is v v talented)

also very subtly co-inspired by the song, “Andromeda” by Weyes Blood!

He took your heart and left for a foreign land.

That was nearly five years ago, and you like to say that you’ve recovered. Your heart is no longer tied to a man who did not love you as much as you did him.

He took your heart; he held it, then later spat on it and all you had sacrificed for him. But you’ve healed. It took months and months of work, tears, and loneliness for you to get to where you are. You haven’t felt heartbroken, weak, or defeated in years. You’re good.

But you hate the look your friends are giving you. They stare at you as if you are fragile, as if your heart will break at the mere mention of him.

“He’s coming back in two months,” Matsukawa starts. “You haven’t seen him in almost five years.”

You give him a look. “I know.”

“I’m just informing you that your ex-boyfriend — who shattered your heart, might I add — is coming back soon.”

“Don’t speak about Iwaizumi like he’s not your friend, Issei.”

“He’s my friend, but I still don’t like what he did to you.”

You roll your eyes and give him a playful shove. “Whatever happened between him and I is between us. You don’t have to hate him on my behalf. I don’t hate him myself.”

He’s analyzing you. His eyes pierce your soul, looking for any form of insincerity. You have never been able to fool him, for he is too observant for his own good.

“Issei,” you place a hand on his shoulder, “I’m okay. I promise. I stopped hurting a long time ago.”

And you’re honest. Your heart hasn’t called for his in years. You’re okay.

-

He left his heart with you in a familiar land.

Five years ago, as he graduated high school, he left behind the person he was sure he would spend forever with. He packed his bags to pursue his dreams, but along the way he lost what once meant the world to him.

He broke your heart on a beautiful day. The sun was shining and the flowers and leaves were falling from the trees and creating an assortment of bursting colors on the ground. He remembers how you smiled at him that day: eyes as bright as the burning sun. You were glowing — attached to him by the hip.

The two of you were inseparable. You spent your youth together; watching each other grow and bloom into the adults you would eventually become. You were there for every moment of his life. The day he broke his first bone, you walked alongside him and reassured him that the pain would eventually subside. When he poured his heart and entire body into volleyball, you cheered him on by the bleachers.

You were his everything, yet he foolishly let you go. He let you cry, and he let the distance drift the two of you apart.

His heart has been calling for yours since he left. It’s always been yours, laying invisible in the palms of your hands. He knows you’re worth it. You’re the only one he would trust with his whole being — his heart. Even if you may not accept him a second time, he will always give himself to you. 

He will always be yours.

-

You’re beautiful, he thinks, as he stares at you from across the room.

It’s his welcome back party, and he can’t believe you actually attended. He knew there would be some type of reunion (for his friends are far too overdramatic to not throw an over-the-top party), but he never knew that you would attend. That you would be here, in all your glory, leaving Iwaizumi speechless.

He stares at you until Oikawa interrupts him.

“Gonna stand there and keep staring at her like some pervert?”

He receives a slap to the back of his head.

“I was kidding!”

“You’re not funny,” is his only response, before his eyes move back to you. You have always moved with grace — such admirable elegance and poise. After being away from you for so long, your movements are somehow enhanced. You’ve grown as has time has passed, and you’ve become more of a wonder. 

He wants to know you again, familiarize himself with your body and mind once again.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Oikawa gently says, and it’s a tone Iwaizumi is not used to hearing. “She healed.”

Iwaizumi smiles. You’ve always been strong, never letting anything falter your movements.

“That’s good.”

“Go talk to her,” Oikawa encourages. “It’ll be good for you.”

With a nudge to his back, Iwaizumi is forced to make his trek towards you. You look so vibrant, laughing with one of your old high school friends that Iwaizumi forgot the name of. You were always so sociable — adapting to every and all situations thrown towards you. He envies you. He loves you.

You notice him before he reaches you. You had once told him that you would always recognize his presence: whether that be by footsteps, breath, or voice. He curses your receptiveness, however, for he wishes he had more time to admire you.

“Hey,” he greets.

He’s nervous. Anyone around him can tell, for his eyes look anywhere but at you. You wish there was a cloud of comfort surrounding the two of you, but there isn’t. It faded and dwindled long ago, when the man packed his bags and left you with tears and a shattered heart.

So you create that cloud of comfort. With a step towards him and two arms wrapped around his torso, you create a haven. One that takes you both away from the crowd — from the overbearing music playing through the speakers.

“I missed you,” you whisper into him. Iwaizumi knows what you mean. You don’t yearn for him as he yearns for you, but you still love him. Not with as much force and passion as you once did, but the love is still there. Alive and burning, but not with the same urgence as it did five years ago.

His heart shatters.

He holds onto you with strength. You know what he means. He years for you in a way that you don’t for him. He wishes that he could take back his past mistakes and find solace in your presence like he once did. 

But your heart has healed and no longer cries for him.

“Yeah,” he pulls away from you, “I missed you too.”

“I hope you’re happy, Haji.”

You’re cruel. The nickname brings him back to a time filled with laughter, kisses, and promises. Promises that he broke and that he will never be able to mend again.

“I will be,” he smiles, “one day.”

Minutes are spent gazing and admiring one another. After so many years apart, the two of you spend time familiarizing yourselves with one another. You notice his stature, his muscle, and his sullen eyes. He notices your calm persona, your smile lines, and your bright eyes.

“I love you.”

“I know you do,” you take his hand in yours. 

You pause. 

“I love you, too. But not in the way you want me to.”

He knows. He could never hate you for it.

[asaintvoid]

Pick a Card Reading

𝔐𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔦𝔯𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

❦ ————— ℜ𝔢𝔡 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 ————— ❦

I always carry with me the warmth of my flesh, but I still need to wear a coat whenever I’m out, cause I still find it hard to show you the true red of my blood, I often feel like a little kid who needs to be embrace before taking the next step. There’s something about myself I don’t quite understand yet, and I don’t know what it is, but it makes me feel like I’m lost in the middle of the ocean screaming for help although I know how to swim. When times of fire come around I always hide behind my shadow, I stay there, quiet and steady, remembering how life was like when I could walk with a blindfold on, trusting my feet, trusting the ground, trusting the gifts inside of me, and the ones I was meant to find. Now I walk slow, always looking over my shoulder, with the fear of losing the things I have left and the ones that don't even belong to me. Holding onto what it was has been my safe place, the bitter memories are my most frequent visitor, and my tears have built their way home on their own. Nobody knows who I truly am, and how passionate my love is. I am the strongest beating heart that exists, the pain I’ve carried will remain with me, my scars have traced every letter of my name into the walls of my body and I will no longer hide from them. From now on I will show myself to you, I will no longer be embarrassed by what my veins look like, and I will move on, leaving behind my old flesh and bone next to those who don’t accept the true red of my blood. You guys will forever inspire those around you, your confidence is the missing piece to a path full of dreams, own your words, your thoughts and honor your soul. Accept love from others, and give it to those who are worthy of it, but never forget to save some for yourself.

❦ ————— 𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 ————— ❦

I am what they call a magical heart. My blood has come from the brightest side of the moon, and your secrets are safe with me, whoever I was yesterday does no longer exist, it has died with the water falling from the mountain, but the echo of the old me will always be here. I have beaten long enough to trust my destiny and those who are meant to join me. I am a mystery to those who only see with their eyes and my words are too powerful to those who have chosen pretty lies, and my skin wasn't always golden. I have walked on roads full of signs and clear directions and still felt like my destination was on the opposite side, I've not always listened to that feeling, and I have kept my hands in my pockets while a few of my dreams were laying on the ground. My power and my empty cup have been denied more times than I could handle, and my misfortune has been abused by those who made me think the fault was all on me. The impossible has been my most faithful friend, I have created from scratch the parts of myself people find quite comfortable to rely on. I will always be here, and my knowledge will remain, strong and calm like every tree, I accept what the future holds for me and my growing roots, with love, the moonlight, and few rays from the sun will always be my best hope. You guys will forever live through every memory you’re part of, every action you’ve taken, and every person you’ve met. Your sword will always be needed in future battles, and if victory ever leaves your side, you’d still be remembered as part of the greatest, golden hearts with immense shine.

❦ ————— 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 ————— ❦

I have encountered every part of my soul, always in solitary through a cave that’s full of my deepest thoughts, the kind I’m not capable to share, thoughts that keep me wondering if I’m ever going to be able to fly away from where I am. I have learned to love brutality and I’ve been forced to forgive it, I’ve been told to change myself in exchange for a kiss, I’ve been told to wait at the end of the line, to wait for others and take them back. I always played safe yet I constantly find myself expecting the worst, living feels like going in circles on a ground made of quicksand, and the adversities keep facing me but my face is always facing down. I don’t know the intimacy of feeling the beat of another heart that’s not me, I’m the only heart I know with black blood, and veins of sorrow trying to keep an exhausted body alive. The blissfulness in the hours makes the days a bit easier, I am constantly trying to look at the sun without hurting my eyes, to walk uphill as I carry three heavy swords in the center of my core. I often think if there’s any humanity left on me, and then I take a second to listen myself beat, from the deepest part of me I am still beating, from the ugly side of my nature I am still beating, from the bittersweetness of my existence I am still beating and there’s no heartbeat as pure as mine. You guys will always survive the hard side of life, there won’t be a heartbreak capable of taking love away from you, there’s nothing spare with your nature, you feel as much as you breathe and your life will never be dictated by someone else’s sins, be life and be death always, all at once.

❦ ————— ❦ ————— ❦

Dividers / Pictures

[redd956]

5 games that get my inner worldbuilding ticking

When I really need some inspiration or I’m hungering for some strong worldbuilding to consume I don’t tend to turn to books, movies, and shows too often. Though I have plenty of those I fondly know too. I mostly to turn video games. 

Here are some that resonate with me all thanks to their epic and wonderous worldbuilding

No Man’s Sky

No man’s sky had a terrible launch, but after years of its controversy it has pulled through incredibly. It is almost a completely different game. What makes it special for worldbuilding is its endless possibilities and generation mechanics.

You spawn in a unique galaxy, in an infinite universe with randomized generation. Every creature, every terrain, every planet, and every fauna is completely randomized. Some planets are full of wonder. Beautiful colorful terrain, with interesting and fun creatures wandering about. But I have absolute terror too. Absolute terror...

Sky: Children of the Light

This is a free switch/mobile game that is all about friendship. It is an online game with plenty of international servers, and a decent enough translator to help. Despite the realms available being so small, it often doesn’t feel that. While traveling there is a sense of beauty, loneliness and wonder. 

I am so excited for the newest season because it will be dropping lots of lore. There is a lot of really beautiful creatures of light flittering around the world. The biomes are amazing, with really strong tones. I personally love Vault the most, but Wasteland is second place for me :3

Hollow Knight

No game has ever giving me the same feeling as Hollow Knight has. The created atmosphere is perfect in achieving exactly what it wants. The sound design, worldbuilding, and mechanics make for what I call my favorite video game. 

The worldbuilding is sorrowful, but well made. I honestly cannot describe how pretty this game is. The enemies and creatures I’ve came across in this game each can tell a bit more about the world just by their look. The several sections of the map are insanely designed, with a stark and fantastical look to them. The music and sound design really tie everything together.

Bioshock

I have played all the currently available Bioshock games, and while they aren’t the best or most polished solo shooter, they are forever ingrained into my mind. I went on an insane worldbuilder’s rampage after experiencing the first game. Even more for the third installment, Bioshock: Infinite.

THE MAGIC SYSTEM! Bioshock has a stark and darkly built magic system. Which not only reflects a lot of the world’s values, but is an immediate sign to the player of how corrupt the world you’re about to explore is. The world and enemy design is also very well done, selling Bioshock’s horror vibe and sense of chaos well. I was amazed even more after exploring through Infinite’s floating city, Columbia. Beautiful, but obviously gilded.

Subnautica

I myself don’t have thalassophobia nor a true fear of the unkown, and yet Subnautica was still able to sell me that unsettling feeling. As soon as I was thrown into the vast oceanic world Subnautica offers, that sense of dread and wander was there to meet me.

Subnautica is full of great worldbuilding. The threats, the plants, the terrain, and the plentiful of oceanic creatures are all unique with plenty of worldbuilt logs attached about them. Anyone looking for underwater worldbuilding inspiration would find this game perfect. It inspired me to completely rework one of my older creations, and its bland nearly empty fantasy ocean. I can’t say much about it without adding spoilers, but trust me, it’s amazing.

:3 Ty for reading this long post

[radiosandrecordings]

Okay, at risk of sounding like I’ve emerged from Sherlock forums like a caveman thawed from ice (Look I was 8 in 2010 I didn’t know!) I wanna talk about how in TMA tea legitimately is a stand-in for love/comfort. Specifically by looking at it in episodes 45, 81, 122, the season 5 trailer, and 186.

So 45 is the first time we hear about Martin’s whole tea thing. He comes into Jon’s office to ask if he wants tea, and this is quickly dismissed by the Oh God Jon Are You Stalking Tim? Thing but I think it needs to be mentioned because that’s the start of it all. And it recurs through S2, Martin’s constant worry and doting, both in recording and presumably off recording too, enough that it’s remarked on by other characters. He’s derided for it, Tim in 65 saying “Martin just wants a tea party” when expressing how he feels no one in the Institute cares about him, and in 110 Basira says “Look, Martin. I know you care. I know you do. But caring isn’t enough. You can’t just stand next to someone with a cup of tea and hope everything’s gonna be all right.” It seems to be something he himself is embarrassed about as well, “What, sat around drinking tea until the world ends?! Or, you know, it doesn’t. We hope.” in 116 and then again in 117 with “Anyway, I guess I’m just sick of sitting on my hands drinking tea and hoping everyone’s okay.”

So cut to season 3, 81, when Georgie comes home and Jon immediately offers to make her tea. This is something, to the listener’s knowldge, he has never done before. He feels guilty for taking up her time and home (see: cleaning the kitchen) and wants to do something that he’s picked up, consciously or unconsciously, that means ‘Here is something to show I care about you, an act of service and a gift in one. I do this for you because I cannot speak the words I wish to convey myself, so I give you this, which gives the reassurance and comfort that you need’

And she just dismisses him out of hand! Because at one stage (S4 Q&A I believe?) Jonny talks about how he is trying to explore a certain specific dynamic between each set of characters when it comes to their relationships to each other, and I at least like to think of Jon’s relationship with Georgie as being about a lack of information and context, and that’s what created the rift between them, imperfect information being used as a basis for judgement. So here she displays this by just not having the context for what tea means to Jon. She hasn’t seen him in years, hasn’t met Martin yet, has no idea that the reason Jon extends her that offer is as an olive branch, an ‘I care about you’, because that’s what Martin has taught Jon it means. I think that one little line in that first interaction between them we hear is a beautiful little microcosm for how their relationship continues. Jon reaches out to Georgie for connection, but she just doesn’t understand his world. She loves Melanie because Melanie is different to Jon, not as deeply embroiled, she can get out, she can be ‘saved’. Wheras she does not have the knowledge we have, about how the last two years for Jon have been hell, so she just sees someone trying to drag her down and, wisely with the information she has but horrifyingly with the information we have, says ‘No, for my own health I am staying away from this’. 

And then we have 122, in which Jon wakes up from being literally dead, and Basira offers him water. Cold, clinical, impersonal water from the hallway of a hospital. It's practical, clears his throat, and it’s exactly like how Basira treats him. Nothing special, no thought gone into it beyond ‘What is the tactically right thing to do here?’ because the whole of S4 is about Basira showing a startling lack of empathy for Jon, her former frien- Well. Person she is friendly towards. She has branded him as a monster, and thus he gets treated as such. No compassion for those we’ve slapped the label of ‘Evil’ on. And of course, she doesn’t get the subtext, because her whole thing is despite being incredibly intelligent, she has a habit of taking things at face value because she trusted Daisy’s judgement of people and never looked further into it, lest that make her uncomfortable with her actions, and this is exactly what she proceeds to do with Jon. Keep him at a distance. Don’t look in his eyes, lest you see something you recognise in there. And he calls after her, asking that, actually, would she be able to get tea? And she doesn't hear him. She puts a lot of effort into never hearing him. 

But what else had he done after waking up? Oh yeah. He asks “Where’s Martin?”, with such confusion because he cannot imagine a world where someone he took for granted previously isn’t there to offer him reassurance. He says it himself, “Honestly, I’m surprised Martin isn’t –” He’s surprised! And he wants him there. He wants him to be there so badly, just like he isn’t for the entire rest of the season. So he asks for the thing that has meant comfort and kindness to him in his place. And, because Martin is no longer there, he doesn’t get it.

And in the S5 trailer we have this whole thing spelt out for us! Martin brings Jon tea in the safehouse and well, it ain't fuckin tea! And so Jon says 'You can't trust comfort' because that's what tea has always been for him, that steady thing throughout, comfort that he can no longer have. The world is ruined and now tea isn’t even safe from corruption, twisted into something meant to inspire fear in them, a symbol turned on it’s head. And then, 162 Martin finds some left over, under the sink, and that's what they take to the apocalypse. That one last piece of comfort that Jon finds in Martin, in his intelligence and his perseverance and kindness and hope. In his unwavering ability to care, if not for, then about Jon.

... But if we’re tackling ‘Tea’ as a whole we have to divert from the beautiful love story a little and talk about 186, and tea, and trauma. Tea has always been Martin’s thing, so it makes sense it would slip neatly into his backstory. His mother, cold and dismissive and uncaring, requested tea whenever she didn’t want to have to deal with him. It was a way to give him a task, make him feel useful, and a way to get him to leave the room. This is why he began to bring Jon tea. Jon was, unfortunately, a bit like his mother. Someone whom he wanted to please, but didn’t seem to have the time of day for him. So he makes them both tea, because Martin’s mother used it to dismiss him, and then when he tries to apply the same tactic he’s had drilled into him to Jon, Jon originally dismisses him because of the tea. It’s a bother to him, before he realises how necessary that connection is. So now I’m just thinking about this thing that became a source of anguish for Martin, so much so that even as an adult, even after his mother is dead, he still can’t taste oolong without being hit with the memory of that pain and belittlement. And how Jon, with some time and character development, took that thing he did out of desperation for approval and turned it into something Jon made a pillar of his life, the symbol of Martin in goodness and his love and Jon sought it out every chance he got, and passed it onto others as an act of kindness as well. Martin’s mother meant the tea as a veiled hate, but it got passed down and distilled through enough love that when Jon offers tea to Georgie, what he is saying is “I care about you”. 

[piecksz]

starstruck | (m)

pairings: rockstar!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, roughness, drug use, explicit language

words: 4.4k+

summary: you and your friend decide to sneak backstage at your band’s favorite concert and the vip treatment you recieve is more than you bargained for.

inspired by 

a/n: you know the drill :p obey (with YUNGBLUD) by bring me the horizon it’s literally not a sexy song so don’t go in listening to it expectin to get horny LMAOO it’s just the kind of sound i imagined eren’s band to have, but it was sexy to me bc the image of rockstar eren tormented me the entire time i wrote this 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. This is fucking crazy.” Your friend’s voice was a fidgety whisper behind you. Her face’s close proximity to the back of your neck had her heavy expiration fanning over your nape every time she opened her mouth to reprimand herself for allowing you to beguile her into illegal trespassing.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she whispered again, tugging the leather sleeve of your jacket with a pesky grip.

You shrugged her touch off of your arm and took a brief glimpse over your shoulder to offer her a sour look. “Can you be quiet? You freaking out is making us look suspicious.” You whisked your head back around, peering around the corner of the vacant merch tent.

“No, us creeping around to sneak onto a fucking tour bus is making us look suspicious,” she retorted.

The corner of your mouth tightened at your friend’s concern and you lifted your hand to give her a dismissive wave. You were astounded when she had originally agreed to your brazen proposal, although it took minutes of incessant pleading for her to actually give in. Her veiled reluctance surfaced the minute you two had separated from the concert’s crowd at the end of the show and snuck around the stage to the back of the venue. What began as her unease and quiet suggestions that maybe your idea wasn’t so smart, intensified into irritating nagging. You gave her the option to turn around and wait for you back at the car, but as your companion, she sighed and remarked that something so stupid couldn’t be done alone.

“I see it,” you said eagerly and with a proud grin. The vehicle was stationed a decent distance from where the two of you had been standing, but you measured the stretch with your eyes and figured that if you walked quickly enough, you’d be able to make it on without being caught.

“How do we even know they’re on it?” Your friend craned her head past yours to get a better view of what you saw.

“We don’t. I’m just guessing.”

“Oh great, that’s exactly the answer I wanted.” She released a tense and quiet laugh before retreating back behind the screen of the tent.

You surveyed the security guards as they patrolled back and forth along the premises, waiting until the coast was clear. Once you noticed an opening, you forcefully grabbed your friend’s wrist, ignoring her silent grunt of protest, and pulled her along. She stumbled into your stride and peered over at you, doing her best to follow your quick feet while mirroring your nonchalant guise.

Closer and closer, the two of you neared the tour bus until it had to have been only yards away. You tried to remain composed through your excitement, making sure you didn’t break your character. No fucking way your plan had actually gone off without a hitch, it almost seemed too easy.

“Hey!”

You kept walking. Maybe the exclamation wasn’t for you, but once the holler was thrown again, your body went rigid, and the tempo of your steps slowed until you stopped in your tracks. The adrenaline that commanded your legs had been substituted for lead and it kept your feet pinned to the ground. You couldn’t even run.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be back here.”

You blinked once, long and hard, before pivoting on your heel. You watched, mortified, as a burly security guard started in your direction and got closer until he loomed over you both with a threatening advantage in height.

He looked even angrier now that you could see the way his thick eyebrows creased together and created a ripple of lines above them that disappeared into a bald head. His hefty arms were crossed against his chest while he glowered down at you two, waiting to hear a story. You could tell your excuse wouldn’t matter though, it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for jocular conversation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we were looking for the bathroom,” you explained, clasping your hands together and feigning an apologetic smile. You turned your head from side to side, looking around innocently to sell your lie, and then looked back up at the guard with a nervous laugh. “And I guess it’s not here.”

Your friend shook her head and said nothing, but you were certain she was drawing up a creative speech in her head, wondering how she would tell you that she “told you so” this time.

“Nice try.” The guard curled his lip angrily. “Come on.” He reached out a thick hand and wrapped it around your bicep while grabbing the back of your friend’s shirt with a crude yank. Your eyes went wide at his hostile grip and you jerked your arm, trying to free yourself of his hold.

“Hey, whoa!” His grip only tightened. “We can walk ourselves!”

The guard forced you two forward, prompting you to walk so he could escort you off the grounds.

“What’s going on?”

You looked up and your writhing ceased. Instead, heat flushed your cheeks and you stood dazed. It didn’t take long before you recognized the owner of the voice because, naturally, you would have been able to recognize him from a mile away, but luckily you didn’t have to. He was right in front of you.

It was Eren, the lead singer and guitarist of the band you had been screaming your heart out to not even an hour ago. He was your favorite member, meaning you’d watched countless interviews and had several pictures of him saved on your phone, but nothing could have prepared you for what he looked like up close. His long brown hair looked like it was still damp with sweat, a sign of his showmanship on stage, and it framed his face in careless wisps and fell loosely past his shoulders. His torso was unclad, showing the dark inkings that adorned his biceps and stretched all the way up his shoulders until they met at the detailed design of wings in the middle of his chest. Dark ripped jeans sat loosely, just below his hips, and teased a peek at deep v-lines that ran underneath the top of his waistband.

You fought off the urge to drop to your knees and pray for how sinfully hot he looked.  

Trailing behind him were his bandmates, Armin and Jean, the band’s other guitarists, and Connie, the band’s drummer. You had never seen such an attractive circle of friends where you would have been satisfied taking any of them, and although you avowed to your friend that Connie was hers since she favored him, you absolutely would’ve allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Caught these two trying to sneak onto the tour bus.” The security guard thrusted you two ahead with an unsatisfied huff, and you shot him a glare.

Eren’s attention dropped from the security guard’s face and drifted over to your friend first before settling on you, eyes sweeping over your face and falling at half-mast. He arched an eyebrow then averted his gaze from your chest.

“It’s cool, let them go.”

“Are you sure?” The security guard’s grip on you loosened, and you pulled out of his hold the minute you felt him unhand you.

Eren shrugged. “Yeah. They can hang.” He quickly dismissed the security guard and casually sauntered past you before disappearing onto their bus.

You glanced over at your friend who looked like she was still in the process of trying to grasp the situation evolving in front of her.

“What kind of assholes turn away fans?” Jean teased, giving you a warm smile before he lifted his half-empty water bottle to his lips.

Connie switched his drum sticks to one hand and slipped them behind his back into his pocket.  “You guys are fans, right? You’re not trying to steal a couple of used water bottles to sell online are you?”

You took a lengthy pause and waited for your friend to answer, giving her an opportunity to converse with him, but she said nothing. She just rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground timidly to avoid looking Connie in the eye.

“No,” you answered for her. “I mean yes, we’re fans. Big fans. No to trying to sell your DNA.”

Your response earned a chuckle from Armin and a hearty laugh from Connie while he nodded in approval. “Alright.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bus as though encouraging you two on.

You watched as the rest of the members filed inside, and then your friend seized your hand frantically.

“Holy shit. Y/N, holy shit!” She squealed, and you snorted at her sudden ability to talk once again. “You saw him right? You saw him.” It didn’t take much detail for you to gather that she was gushing about Connie.  

“Did you even see him? Your head was down the whole time, you didn’t say a single word to him.”

Your friend’s animated face slackened into a placid expression. “I didn’t trust myself. If I opened my mouth I would have asked him to put me in a headlock.” She exhaled. “Jesus Christ, those arms.” Your goading smile stretched into an amused grin, and you shook your head at your friend’s hysterical behavior.

The inside of the tour bus was much larger than you would have deduced from its seemingly modest exterior. Its floors were dark and polished wood that matched the ceiling, both surfaces lined with subdued yellow light. Aside from the sizable kitchen to your right, large leather couches sat on either side of the lounge area, and stretching to the bus’ rear were dimly lit bunk beds that were half-obscured by a dark curtain.

“Holy shit, this is a house on wheels,” your friend breathed, mouth agape.

“Well we’re on the road most of the time, so it might as well be,” Armin answered, throwing himself into one of the sofas with a labored sigh. He threw his head back in exhaustion and brought his arms up to rest against the top of the couch. “We never caught your names by the way.”

Both you and your friend introduced yourselves, forgoing a proper introduction from the band’s members. You evidently already knew who they were.

Armin smiled. “Nice to meet you guys.”

Jean shuffled through, handing you and your friend a water bottle, which you accepted with much appreciation. You hadn’t taken heed of how thirsty you’d been, and you hadn’t had anything to drink since the concert had started. Even while you swooned in the crowd between sweaty bodies, dehydration threatening to ruin your fun, you’d refused to pay $4 for a beverage.

“Make yourselves at home.” He threw another bottle to Armin.

“Oh no, we’re not planning on staying that long.” Your friend laughed, clutching onto her drink so tightly that the plastic squeaked in her grip.

You nudged her in the ribs with an assertive elbow and said her name quietly through clenched teeth, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. She looked at you with uncertainty, and you gave her a forced grin.

“Don’t be rude. They said we should make ourselves at home.” You obliged to Jean’s invite, taking a seat in one of the leather cushions.

The situation you were in was a rare opportunity, the type of opportunity you’d only heard from other people, the type of opportunity you’d read fanfiction about in your early adolescence. If anyone told you that you’d be living such an opportunity, you weren’t sure if you’d really believe them, but had you declined to appease your friend’s irrational concern, you knew you’d regret it for years.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Connie leaned against the wall of the bus and wedged a rolled stick of paper between his pursed lips. He brought a hand-held lighter to the end of the stick, sparking it a few times with his thumb before a small flame engulfed the thin paper and thick smoke billowed from its tip. It only took a moment before the pungent, herbal stench of marijuana invaded the inside of the tour bus.

“Of course, you guys are amazing.” You nodded, perching yourself up in your seat and clapping your hands together excitedly. “We’ve been trying to see you guys in concert for a long time now.”

Eren fell into the seat beside you, and your body tensed up almost instantly. You’d managed to feign calmness from your first encounter because it had been easy to masquerade your nervousness from a distance, but now that he was even closer, surely he could have heard your heart palpitating against your ribcage. Its beating grew even quicker once Eren sat back and slid his arm behind you to lay it atop the backrest.

“Yeah?” His voice was languid. “What’s your favorite song?”

“That’s a hard question,” you chuckled, suddenly becoming very interested in the sleeves of your jacket. “I seriously don’t know if I can pick just one.” It hadn’t been a hard question at all, but you simply couldn’t think through the smell of his faded cologne and the feeling of his naked chest up against the side of your arm.

“That’s cool,” Eren smiled, but responded plainly. “You smoke?”

Your eyes drifted up to see Eren offering you a partially-burnt joint in between two fingers. He inhaled deeply from his hit and exhaled, a thick white cloud rolling past his lips.

You hadn’t smoked before, and you weren’t an avid consumer of weed. One edible at a party had you manic until your friends had to calm you down in a separate room and reassure you that you weren’t dying, but you still accepted it hesitantly. You brought it to your lips and took a deep draw before erupting into a fit of coughs.

“Easy,” Eren laughed, and his warm hand rubbed the nape of your neck soothingly. He took the joint from your hands and held it towards Armin.

Your chest and throat heaved with the searing sensation of a foreign substance, and your body racked with an incessant wheeze until it was sure it had expelled all of the stuff. Eren beside you thought it was the funniest thing.

“So you guys in college?” Connie asked, this time directing his question to your friend since you clearly couldn’t respond.

She nodded quickly, still avoiding making eye contact with him. He must have noticed and thought it was endearing because the corner of his mouth quirked upward into a knowing smirk.

“Sick,” Eren remarked. “I dropped out of college, but you guys should stay in school, seriously.”

“Don’t worry I have no plans to drop out and become a musician,” you rasped once your coughing subsided.

He paused for a moment and then looked at you. “What about a boyfriend?” His eyes drank you in from bottom to top until he met your clueless stare.

“Do I have a boyfriend?” You blinked, and then the tip of your ears went up in an uncomfortable heat that spread over the side of your face until your skin was aflame with realization. “No.”

“That’s good.” Eren studied you from behind heavy lids and he lingered on your lips, his own spreading into a suggestive grin. “So it’s cool if I do this?”

He leaned in and affixed his lips at the curve of where your jaw met your ear. His mouth was hot and the kiss was wet against your feverish skin. He planted another one lower, against the hollow dip where your neck curved, and then he bent the arm resting behind your head, using his hand to turn your face toward him so that when he tilted himself forward again, he could kiss you without interference. His lips were soft and slow as they commanded your mouth to follow his rhythm, and you withheld a desperate and excited whimper once Eren slipped a seductive tongue past your teeth.

He relaxed another hand on your leg, rubbing slow circles into the top of your thigh while edging closer and closer to the top of your waistband. Once his leisure fingers skimmed over your pants’ button, he skillfully undid the first hole before moving on to your zipper. You made a small sound of protest and pulled back in embarrassment.

“In front of your bandmates?” you questioned in a breathy whisper.

Eren shrugged, looking unfazed. “They don’t care. Nothing they haven’t seen before.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. He was a goddamn celebrity for crying out loud, had you really thought you were the first girl he brought onto the bus to fuck? And he’d done it in front of his bandmates? You shifted uncomfortably, looking to Armin, Jean, and Connie who were now occupied with showing your friend pictures they’d been sent from professional photographers after past shows.  

“I don’t know,” you admitted timidly.

Eren rolled his head to the side, visibly bothered by your response. He glanced over to his bandmates and swept through his locks with a lazy hand. “Hey, why don’t you guys go show her the stage set before they pack up?”

Your friend looked away from the laptop they were gathered around and over her shoulder. “But—.”

Eren’s fingers trailed up and down the side of your neck, clearly eager to resume your previous matters. Were you really about to pass up this chance?

You gave your friend a reassuring thumbs up alongside Eren’s suggestion. “I’ll come find you later.”

It almost seemed like Eren sent his bandmates an unspoken cue, because Connie quickly chimed in before your friend had another turn to object. “Yeah. It’s okay, we’ll take care of you.” He wrapped a tattooed arm around your friend’s shoulder and gave her a friendly shake.

You could almost see the rise and fall of her chest cease, and you actually grew worried for her. It looked like she had nearly died and came back to life, but her stunned face melted into a flustered smile and she laughed sheepishly. “Okay.”

Connie nodded and gave Eren a two finger salute before escorting your friend off the bus with Jean and Armin following closely behind.

Once the door to the bus closed Eren shifted his attention back to you.

“There. Problem solved.” His green eyes had darkened and clouded over with desire again. “You feel better?”

“I guess,” you murmured.

You didn’t get a second chance to speak because Eren’s lips coupled to yours once more, and his hands continued against your zipper before he slipped his fingers into your underwear. He brought two fingers to your slit, skimming lightly over the delicate skin before sliding his middle finger between your folds to part them.

You released a sharp gasp against Eren’s mouth as you felt the cold metal of his rings against your cunt, but he made no efforts to pull away. The earthy taste of marijuana on his tongue caused your head to swim and you began to feel the drug’s intoxicant effects yourself. Your limbs grew heavier as you lay slack against Eren’s body while the sensation of his soft strokes against your tender clit had you whimpering against his lips.

He dipped his finger down to your body’s orifice, sliding it into your hole to glaze the digit with your arousal.

“God, you’re so tight.” Eren’s voice was deep as he pulled away from your mouth and both of you looked down to watch the way he worked you. “I want you around my cock.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily against his hand with the mention of his desire, and he brought his touch back up to your clit, using your essence as lubrication. The bus was quiet except for the symphony of Eren’s husky pants and your lewd whines as he slowly quickened the pace when he felt your body begin to tremble against his.

“Fuck, Eren—,” you mewled. You hadn’t even given thought to how unusual his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Eren, the singer and lead guitarist of your favorite band had his fingers inside of your pants, and here you were moaning his name. “Oh fuck—.”

Your orgasm intensified quickly after its onset, you hadn’t even realized you were climaxing until your body was convulsing and your fingers were digging into Eren’s biceps.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Eren—,” you cried.

“That’s it,” Eren cooed. “Atta girl.”

His fingers continued working against your clit until you wrapped a sweaty hand around his wrist, a silent plea for him to stop before he sent you into overstimulation.

He hummed in amusement and heeded your request before pulling his hands out of your underwear. Now he worked his hands against his own belt, unfastening the buckle before pushing his jeans down with his briefs in one swift and eager motion. His cock was half-hard and continued growing rigid after he took himself in his hand and began pumping his throbbing length.  

You watched in wonderment as his palm worked painfully slow against his thick shaft, and pearls of precum gathered at his tip before dribbling down his swollen head. Your own dirty fantasies where you’d tried to envision how big Eren was hardly did him justice.

You rose to your feet, kicking off your shoes with haste, and stepped out of your pants. You shrugged off your jacket as well, realizing how uncomfortably sticky your sweaty arms felt against the leather material.

“Come here,” Eren hummed, and released his cock. He held his hands out for you to take, and he pulled you onto his lap. He supported your waist until your knees were mounted on either side of his thighs, and you pulled your underwear to the side, allowing his pulsating tip to prod your entrance.

“You gonna show me how well you ride?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

You nodded, resting your hands on his shoulders and undulating your wet folds against his cock. You released a desperate whimper every time he nudged your clit.

“Yeah? Show me.”

Eren watched as you slipped him in, and what started as a whine deepened into an obscene cry while you felt him stretch your walls out. You eased down until you sat at the base of his cock and he’d filled you to the hilt.

You dug your teeth into your lower lip, waiting to adjust to his girth before you slowly started moving up and down. Eren’s shallow breathing encouraged you while you lifted yourself up and then back down, each time releasing an agonizing sob.

“Good girl.” Eren’s large hands traveled up from your waist and rested on your chest. “Just like that.” He loosely cupped his hands over your clothed chest, adoring the way your quickening pace caused your breasts began to jounce underneath your shirt, but your ache to feel his touch everywhere along your skin became uncontrollable.

Your fingers curled around the hem of your top and you quickly slipped the material off, tossing it onto the couch beside you. You did the same with your bra, too impatient to fumble around with the pesky hooks.

Eren grinned lazily, before resting his palms against your breasts and giving them a small jiggle. He leaned forward, lolling his tongue out, and flicked its tip against the hardening bead of your nipple. He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at the way you murmured his name before rolling his thumb over the wet skin.

“So fucking hot,” Eren praised. He gave your other breast a brisk slap, watching it shake with the impact, and then he took you in his mouth. He sucked hungrily before taking your nipple between his teeth and tugged on it.

You continued bouncing on Eren’s cock before he released a guttural groan and threw his head back. “Fuck, don’t stop.” The tattoos along his sweaty chest expanded with each uneven breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

Eren’s hands traveled down to your ass, and black-painted nails dug into your skin while he directed you up and down. You rolled your hips against him until you felt his cock jerk inside you, and then he was filling you up.

Eren unloaded himself into you and your walls fluttered around his quivering length. His balls spasmed, making sure he’d jettisoned every drop of thick, white cum. He pulled his cock out before your knees gave way and you collapsed next to him. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still adjusting to Eren’s absence, and you felt his release leak out of your hole.

You heaved, eyes strung tightly, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You had to have been dreaming. You kept your eyes closed, fearing that you’d wake, but they fluttered open instinctively when you felt Eren’s weight lift from beside you.

“Where are you going?” You watched as he tugged his pants up and fastened his buckle before shuffling around the bus looking for something. Jesus Christ, just how much stamina did this guy have?

“Your friend’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long,” Eren replied, disappearing behind the curtain leading to the bedroom in the back of the bus.

Your hand flew to your forehead and you sat up, feeling guilty that you had completely forgotten your friend. Knowing her, she was probably worrying herself sick wondering what Eren had possibly done to you. You started retrieving your clothes and getting dressed, but you paused momentarily, calling out to wherever Eren had been on the bus.

“I should give you my number.” You stuck a leg into your pants. “You know, just to keep in touch.” You stuck your other leg in and hopped around, pulling your pants up.

Eren reappeared from behind the curtain, tugging on a fitted black t-shirt. “Don’t worry about that.”

You popped your head out from under your shirt and reached for your jacket. You laughed lightly and gave him a confused look.

“Safety and shit. We can’t give our personal information out to just anyone.” He gave you a pitiful smile, but you could tell it was more for you than for him.

“Oh,” you responded quietly.

Eren seemed unconcerned with the guidelines he was given, as though he didn’t care much about whether he even remembered your name once they were on the road again.

“Don’t look so sad babe. You’re lucky.” He tilted his head toward you and raised his eyebrows. “Not everyone gets to fuck a rockstar.”

[blueprint-han]

[Image ID: A black picture with the title “HOW TO SUPPORT FANFICTION AUTHORS” written in bold caps lock, colored with a winter forest picture. End ID.]

Well, this post has been made countless times, but I’m making one too because I’ve seen a lot of people say they’re new to tumblr and don’t know the whole “reblogging is better than liking” rule and other stuff. So without any further ado, here are ways YOU can support the fanfiction authors. Now keep in mind this applies to almost every author out there, not just the stayblr fandom, so if you’re a silent reader (or even if you aren’t), I advise you go through this post. Warning, this is a fairly long post going into detail, so yeah. I still expect you, the readers to read this, and if you’re a writer, feel free to lmk if i’ve written smth wrong or if you want me to add something! ^^

In this post I’ll go into thorough analysis of the pros and cons of each of the methods listed here and how YOU as a reader can show the authors whose fics you read more love and motivate them to produce content.

WARNING; LONG POST! GOES INTO A DECENT AMOUNT OF DETAIL. NOT EDITED, EXCUSE ANY TYPOS.

#1 : LIKING !

I think this is basic common knowledge, and a lot of people tend to do this. When you like the post, the author sees it, you see it, and if the author has their liked posts accessible (which majority of the time they don’t), and if someone deliberately goes to check it, then they see it. See why so many authors say just liking does nothing? Only liking says “Hey, I’m gonna tell you your story is not that good by simply liking it and not sharing it with other people. :D”

♯ PROS:

You’re telling the author that you've read their fic, and either you’ve enjoyed it to a certain extent, or you’re just saving it to read for later.

Likes are seen by you, the author and anyone who has access to your likes (which, most people don’t).

♯ CONS:

If you ONLY like, you’re not really helping the author’s work reach a wide audience because this site isn’t Instagram. Reblogging is the only way people can SEE our works. I’ll cover more on that in the next section.

In a nutshell, liking is good! But you should most likely use it in a combination with the other stuff I’ve listed below, because just the like itself doesn’t really do much in giving the author any feedback or interaction on their fics.

To clear shit up; I’m not talking about those people who don’t read the story or appreciate it in the first place. I’m talking about those who appreciate the fic, like it, but don’t leave any sort of feedback to show that.

#2 : REBLOGGING !

This is SO, SO important. I cannot stress on this enough. Let me explain WHY so many writers stress on reblogging content: 

Tumblr’s tag system is inherently fucked up, and has grown more so over the year. I’m not kidding, at first, the fic either used to show up in the tags or it didn’t, but now, sometimes your fic can be REMOVED from the tags because of,,, idk tumblr tag shit. Anyways, as you can see, it’s very demotivating for authors at that point, because the major way for people to find their content and expand their blogs has been blocked.  

Due to this reason, tumblr authors need to RELY on you, their followers to help spread their works to a wider audience. Now again, before you get me wrong, I’m not saying you ae forced to rb our works regardless of whether you like them or not. BUT, that being said, if you DO infact like the story, there’s no harm in reblogging, right? By doing this you’re indirectly telling the author — “hey! :D I liked your fic! Which is why I am gonna share it to my followers so they can read it too :D” Trust me, you’re doing nothing but helping the people who produce content for you to read. Seems like a worthy cause to hit the reblog button, right? It’s only a one, or maximum two step procedure.

Leave tags in your reblogs! Trust me, as an author myself and as much as I know from all my author friends, we oft check the tags of your reblogs to see if you found any part amazing or even if you have anything to say about the writing we put so much hard work into. Even a key smash or a “This was so [insert adjective] 🥺” is enough to leave a smile on your authors face. 

♯ PROS :

You’re !! Sharing !! Your authors !! Works !! This leads to them getting more recognition, so for the content they’re so graciously providing for free, you’re promoting their blog and helping them expand it.

If the tags are being a shit, which majority of the time they are, then you’re literally making an author’s day by reblogging! You’re showing them that you, a follower and appreciator of their works are willingly sharing their content because it deserves to be seen by more people. Again before any dumb people decide to attack me, i am talking about people who like the fic but don't bother reblogging and are silent/ghost readers. I am not forcing anyone to read anybody’s work.

YOU’RE MAKING YOUR AUTHOR SO HAPPY WHAT MORE REASONS COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT !! 🥺

♯ CONS :

Literally none, because as far as I remember no author is against reblogging of their works. It’s quite literally the way this platform functions. Reblogging is IMPORTANT.

#3 : COMMENTING/SENDING FEEDBACK !

This kind of overlaps with the previous section, but THIS IS SUCH AN IMPORTANT STEP !! When you leave feedback, you are directly giving the author something so much more valuable to them than high follower/note counts or money. Your feedback is literally our serotonin. I kid you not the number of times I’ve received a positive comment and smiled and it has made my day. There’s a reason youtubers (though not the best example, bear with me here because it was the only one I could think of) ask people to subscribe, like and COMMENT. The subscription is like a follow, the like is ofc like a heart, and the comment is equivalent to an rb with comments in the tags. 

You might argue and tell me that a comment is basically like an ask so the reblogging step isn’t necessary, but I’m sure 99% of you use YouTube and you know that more comments leads to people’s videos boosted in the stream/trending charts. This is what reblogging does. Reblogging shares the piece with other people like minded, which leads to a boost in reads. You are literally helping your author grow.

It’s quite literally the same thing as youtubers. Youtubers NEED validation to keep their content creation going, so do writers, so do other ccs on this site. This post is however, focused on WRITERS, so keep that in mind.

♯ PROS :

By doing this, you’re giving author valuable feedback! It’s similar to what you do in rbing with tags. Interactivity with their fics boosts their note counts and helps expand their audience, so srsly, now think of it: your one comment is playing such a massive role to help ccs create more content.

Imagine how much of a difference the note counts will be in when every person who simply likes after reading the fic, reblogs, leaves a comment and sends an ask. the note counts would be high on each and every fic, which is validation in itself, but your comments would inspire the writer so much more! Please, don’t skip the commenting part. Even a simple one like: “this is so cute!” is wonderful. 

♯ CONS :

Remember, if you’re gonna give constructive criticism (which I’m sure you all are smart enough to know if different from hate), make sure the author is okay with it. Authors need to be in a specific mindset and must be ready to accept criticism, so if you’re gonna give constructive criticism to them when they’re at a low point, it may demotivate them.

Just commenting, instead of reblogging and commenting in the tags/ reblogging and then leaving an ask in their inbox, while it gives validation in plenty, will not lead to the author’s work being spread. Therefore I suggest either reblogging and commenting in the tags or reblog and then leave an ask, or comment under the fic!

!! reminder; I am not saying that if you don’t rb and just leave feedback, your feedback has no value. We authors truly appreciate every bit of feedback, but this post is aimed to help you learn how to interact with and support authors, and make them feel more motivated, because the current scenario of liking and scrolling is taking a toll on their creative abilities. Take it from a person who’s been writing for a year.

#4 : COMMSIONING VIA THEIR KO-FI/OTHER APPS !

Before any of you attack me, let me tell you that this is not a step that is 100% necessary to do. ONLY donate if you can and if you genuinely want to, and if anyone is forcing you to pay for something against your will, you need to get yourself out of there.

Regardless, if an author has a kofi and you’re able to and you want to donate, you definitely should! It’s also a valid form of support.

#5 : ADDING THEM ON REC LISTS/ RECOMMENDING THEM TO REC BLOGS

This is such an underrated option, to be honest. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen my fic was recommended onto some rec list and it’s made me smile so hard. If you like some fics, create a rec list! They’re oft very popular amongst the fans too. Making rec posts is such a great way to share your favorite stories with others. 

Rec blogs! I’ve seen a couple going around, and needless to say they are a great way to get someone else to read your favorite author’s work whilst also giving them your own feedback. These blogs oft accept recs via a form or ask box, and they leave your feedback along with their own, or else they’ll oft tag the author in the feedback post, so look! You’re basically helping your author share their fic to many more people, because you’ve given them feedback and a reblog.

♯ PROS :

Validation! Feedback! Reblogs! More exposure! Helping a blog grow! Spreading love! basically a run down of the stuff I’ve said before!

♯ CONS :

Literally no con of this. Unless, a one in a million case, this author says they don’t like receiving feedback/being tagged, and I’m sure NO person has said this before, at least none that I’ve heard of.

#6 : FINAL COMMENTS; MISC !

When an author points out about how the interactivity is drastically reducing, don’t just give them blind apologies. Yes, you feel sorry for not interacting as much, we understand, but rather show that you’ll become a better content consumer through your actions. We need to see that we’re not just throwing words into a void and that people are actually trying to be better content consumers. 

Understand the fact that authors don’t get paid for this, and 99% of the time, these authors don’t take commissions either. They’re giving you novel worthy writings for free. Take Percy Jackson: You think the author would have felt motivated to write the subsequent parts, let alone two whole series based off of it if literally no one showed that they were interested? Rick Riordan has sales, he is being paid, there are millions of people and big agencies who provide him feedback. Now take that huge amount and simmer it down to an audience of maybe 10000 people This is what fanfic authors want. They don’t want your money, nor are they telling you to risk your lives for them. All they want is, a reblog, some tags, some feedback, some INTERACTIVITY.  A sign that they aren’t throwing fics into the void and that people actually like them, some motivation to continue. Seems fairly easy to throw an rb with some tags, right?

Don’t bother to tell me that we do this for ourselves and we shouldn’t ask for likes and reblogs and feedback, because 1) you are consuming the content that we “write for ourselves” and 2) writers post their content here for interactivity and feedback. We could just not post and write and save our fics in our dungeon drafts for years. But we choose to post to entertain the readers, the consumers. And we aren’t even asking that much in return.

Don’t give me the whole “I’m scared that authors feel that comments are annoying” excuse either because seriously this has been DEBUNKED SO MANY TIMES. Istg, in the nicest way possible, if you still think writers are annoyed by interaction and feedback, after so many posts, long rants have been posted as to how we’re not, then you must truly be living under a rock. There, I said it. Please stop thinking this way, I’ll say it again, AUTHORS ARE NOT ANNOYED OF FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, TAGS, REBLOGS. WE LOVE IT. Saying this is like saying that the audience in a theatre play shouldn’t clap when the play ends because the actors would find it noisy. 🤡

I’ve seen some people saying they have anxiety issues and such, so pls note that I’m not invalidating your condition. If you’re trying to be more interactive, I really appreciate it! If you can’t, that’s fine too. You’re trying.

But for the people who have no reason other than feeling lazy to rb and comment, your lack of interactiveness is not excused. Please. Tumblr is a reblogging site. If you’re gonna consume content like authors are some sort of machines, I encourage you to go get some more perspective.

This site is not Instagram or the satan bird app. Your likes are appreciated but frankly speaking, they do nothing to the author except tell them “Hey i read ur fic but i'm not gonna support u :D” and honestly, that is detrimental to their creative capabilities and mental health. 

DON’T FOLLOW AN ACC JUST TO MINDLESS RB THEIR SIGNAL BOOST POSTS AND THEIR REBLOGS OF GIFS AND NOT INTERACT WITH THEIR WRITING AT ALL ! Trust me, authors prefer a lower amount of interactive followers than a high count that doesn’t even give them any feedback. Again your follows are appreciated, but when you’re following, you know the type of content the author creates, so the author expects that the more followers, the more interactivity. These days, this is just becoming the opposite. So don’t do it! If you’re gonna follow to read, interact with their works. I promise, this will make both you and the author happy. A win-win situation.

In conclusion: SUPPORT YOUR FUCKING AUTHORS! THEY ARE NOT MACHINES THAT HAVE NO FEELINGS TO PRODUCE CONTENT FOR YOU! FICS TAKE DAYS AND DAYS OF PLANNING, PLOTTING, OUTLINING, WRITING, EDITING, MAKING TEASERS. SO JUST SHOW THEM YOU APPRECIATE THEM WITH AN RB. IT’S THE L E A S T YOU CAN DO.

I will be liking this post here written by the lovely @chaninfused​ and @scriptura-delirus​ . Please take time to read it because if you weren’t convinced by my arguments, you will see how much frustration we as writers face on a daily basis. Please, just show support. Here is the post by @stayndays​ about how to get more people to read your work, because it also has a note on reblogging. Please educate yourself, and put an end to this mindless consuming culutre and bring up some interactivity.

If you’ve read this far, I want you to go to two of your favorite authors and leave some feedback in their inbox, and tag me in it (either tag me yourself or ask the author to do so, they won’t mind). Show your writers that our words are taking effect and you are becoming better consumers. I mean it. I’m serious. I want every single one who reads this post to do this. besides valid reasons, if you’re lazy to do this, you’re a part of the problem. PLEASE get more perspective.

Also, feel free to add to this post! I’d love to read your thoughts too, remember to be kind though. And, if I think your rb is somehow contradicting my points and is bringing down the reason I made this post, I will politely ask you to delete your comment, because this post is about being truthful about the harsh reality of tumblr consumers and how we can change it. I’m sure none of you will let it get to that point, though. <3 love you guys. 💓

And, just a reminder, don’t just blindly like this too. Do what I said before, and while I am not forcing you, I’d appreciate your reblog, because seriously, it took me 3 whole days to write this, plus, I’m sure this will help more of your followers understand the fault in consumer culture. haha, that’s it! This post was way too long uff.

also, this is ur cue to not be stupid in my inbox. You have something to say? Think I worded smth wrongly? I’m sure it wasn’t my intention to do so, point it out with manners. 

[twistedmusings]

Vil Schoenheit: After VDC Results

“I’m going to ask again, Prefect.”

“Are you going to walk me out?” 

A/N: Only thing I learned from this Chapter is to not trust a Stan kids, because they will ruin the even for the rest of us. 

Needless to say I have now officially began to simp for Vil, happy to find myself among you, Vil stans. 

If you haven’t read part one, here it is! 

Warnings: Chapter 5 spoilers, Lime soda (implied sexy times!) and de-stressing makeout session for Vil.

Vil had almost tried to kill someone today. 

It seemed strange to say, since it was somebody’s life at stake, but he had come to terms that he had shown everybody in his team a side of himself he hoped they would never see. 

He had shown you a side of himself he hoped you would never see. 

After the ‘incident’, you two had barely talked. You weren’t necessarily avoiding him and he wasn’t avoiding you either. There were just a few moments before the VDC officially started and despite the pain in his body telling him to at least sit down, the need to make it to the end of the stage triumphed as he gave it his all out there. 

Blood, sweat and tears. He had shed them all with no regrets. 

So as he stood there, confetti raining down as the people cheered in the grand coliseum for Neige’s song and not his, he was slowly coming to terms with another realization. 

That he wouldn’t let Rook participate in anything he ever did again…ever. 

Two years. Two YEARS he had known this mysterious man and yet there was NOTHING that had tipped him off to Rook being a fan of Neige. Oh no, not just a fan. 

An extremely devoted fan. 

“...Roi de Neige...it really is such an honor!” 

Neige’s laugh was still like metal against a chalkboard to Vil’s ears, smiling as he held Rook’s hand as the other waxed poetic about his performance. He had to turn away, tears still pricking at the corners of his eyes as he wiped them away with Rook’s handkerchief. His life was just one ironic twist after another, wasn’t it? And how frustrating, to be so close to standing first and to be betrayed by someone who he thought he could trust--! 

“Stand proud and say that you are the fairest of them all, Vil! And I am sure that even the Magic Mirror wouldn’t be able to deny it!”

He chuckles as the fanfare continues, looking down at the offending piece of cloth before shaking his head and going over to his friend, handing him back the handkerchief. 

“Go on, wipe your tears. It is your handkerchief after all.” 

Rook’s surprised face was a sight for sore eyes as he dried his tears. “Thank you, Roi de Poison.” 

“Hehe~ There is Vi-kun’s usual smile~!” 

Enjoy it while it lasts, bastard. The moment we get back to Pomefiore you are going to regret not drinking that juice and melting from the inside out because I am going to make you WISH that you were nothing but a puddle of boiling goop after I am done with you, you son of a bit--

“Vil-senpai!” 

His head turns around slowly, watching you run towards the stage before flashing your staff pass at the bodyguards trying to stop you, just like how he taught you. He clears his throat as he straightens himself out, turning his whole body towards you as the stadium quiets down around him. 

Or maybe he was just paying attention to your voice only. 

“One vote.” you give him a forced smile, “Just by one vote, huh?” 

Vil points a thumb at Rook, “The guilty party is over there.” 

You peek behind him, eyebrows shooting up when you see your other upperclassman holding the hand of the team’s supposed rival and silently crying. 

“...that...the VDC really is full of surprises…” 

You both look at each other before smiling as you share a giggle, your hand going to Vil’s arm and giving it a soft squeeze before letting go.

He doesn’t want to think about what he would have done if you had been the one deciding vote. For a brief moment while the announcement was being made he thought that you had been that person, the one person he wished to curse and hate. Vil tried to imagine it, imagine directing all his anger towards you and promising you that every single day you remained at Night Raven College would be hell because of what you had taken from him. 

Would he have gone through with it? Who knows? 

Vil is a lot more relieved about the fact that you placed your trust in the team he had created and voted for him. 

“How annoying.” 

“Truly.” 

“There goes our heater money.” 

“I agree--what?” 

You turn to him, smiling as you gesture down to the hiccuping Grimm in your arms. He had tired himself out from crying and the headache that followed after had kept him glued to your arms. 

“I know he said that he was going to buy tuna with the money we would have gotten but I was thinking of buying a heater for Ramshackle.” you pout, “You guys were all complaining about how cold it was before using magic to make the entire dorm room cold proof. For a brief moment my dream of having heated floors came true.” 

Vil catches you staring at Neige, your stare not one of admiration but of clear frustration and annoyance. 

“And it wasn’t like his song was that good. It was catchy. Catchy turns straight up annoying in a few days. Watch people complain about how they wish it wasn’t stuck in their heads all the time, I give it a week.” 

Maybe it was the strong emotions he was feeling right now, or the fact that he had come to terms with another set of emotions that were directed towards you a long time ago but Vil immediately grabs your hand and holds it close to his heart, your eyes turning to look at him as he stares at you with fierce intensity. 

He wanted you to feel it. Could you feel how fast his heart was beating? 

“Potato, no, Prefect--” 

Your eyes widened, it was the first time he had referred you with that title. 

“I want you to know that I--” 

“Vi-kun!” 

The Pomefiore dorm leader can feel the vein in his head beginning to throb as he hears his rival’s voice, the Royal Sword Academy student smiling as he came up to him and grabbed his hand. 

“Let’s sing together! If we all sing together I’m sure it would be a lot more fun!” 

Neige smiles as he grabs Vil’s hand, quickly interlocking their fingers together as the other complains about the distance. His eyes meet yours before he grins and gives you a peace sign. 

“I’m going to steal him away real quick, I hope you don’t mind!” 

“Neige!” 

You blink before smiling as you wave goodbye, hugging Grimm close to you as you watch Vil be dragged away by Neige to the center of the stage. The small familiar in your arms groans as he hears the music start up again. “Not agaaaaain. Make it stoooop. My tunaaaaaaa!” 

With a giggle, you scratch the top of his head as he buries his face in the crook of your arm. 

“Go back to sleep, Grimmy. Let’s go back home.” 

The music blares behind you as you hum along to the song, bobbing your head to the beat as Vil’s voice comes through loud and clear despite the cheers and the fanfare. 

“See you guys again!” 

You smile and hug Grimm close, walking towards the exit of the Coliseum.

What a bummer. Guess you couldn’t work up the courage to tell him after all.  

--------

“You guys got everything?” 

“Ah wait!” Kalim rushes back into Ramshackle as Jalim pinches the bridge of his nose, “I forgot Vil’s face stuff!” 

You smile at Jalim, “You always seem to have your hands full.” 

“Isn’t that an understatement.” he smiles, “Are you that eager to get us out of here, Prefect?” 

“Not at all. I’ll be really lonely once you guys leave.” 

Jalim stares at you before looking back at the Ramshackle door, his actions making you laugh as you pat his back and head inside. Guy wasn’t used to people being that honest, was he? You smile when Kalim meets you at the bottom of the stairs, hugging you close and saying quick goodbyes as Jamil called out to him for the second time. 

“There they go…” 

You whistle a low tune as you head upstairs, letting out a huge sigh as you flop down on your bed.

It was the most perfect opportunity...and you blew it. 

Vil had been living with you for almost a whole MONTH and you only managed to have a decent conversation with him maybe three times. And you weren’t going to count that awkward moment you two shared that night. 

Probably the reason he didn’t talk to you at all after that! 

He had been concentrating so hard to win this competition and all you needed to do was just give him some good words of support, not go off about how you thought he was the ‘fairest’ in all of the school! What kind of STUPID confession was that! You wanted to be smooth about it and maybe ask him if he wanted to come with you to the Monstro Lounge after all of this was over. 

At least you had gotten some decent words through. It had been inspiring to watch him work. You didn’t really have an opinion on him when you two first met but watching him put his everything into this one competition made you want to put everything into finding a way back home. 

And like always, feelings of admirations grew to something else. 

Something annoying and unnecessary. 

Vil probably saw right through you, the way you would wake up early to catch him humming in the showers as you brushed your teeth. No, he probably caught on when you complimented every single meal he made when it was his turn to cook. Or maybe he caught on when you straight up admitted that you thought he was the most beautiful person on campus. 

You laugh as you sling your arm over your eyes. 

“I’m so messy.” 

A knock on your door bolts you up from your bed. You knew it wasn’t Grimm since he had taken dibs on the bath first and was probably enjoying the hot water you wish you could enjoy as well. Amethyst eyes meet yours as Vil stares at you, bag on the floor by his side as you two stare each other down.  

“...should I just leave?” 

“No!” you immediately get up and walk over to him, “Let me walk you out. It is the duty of a Prefect to see all the guests out, after all~” 

“You only have one other member living in your dorm, potato.” 

“Doesn’t mean I should ignore the title given to me. That’s what Riddle taught me.” 

You make a move to walk out into the hallway but his arm stops you, blocking your way as your eyes look into the deep purple linen. It must be really soft to touch-- “Oi.” 

Whoops, lost in thought again. 

“You say something?” 

Vil sighs and you were expecting the usual disappointed look but your heart nearly beat out of your chest when you saw him smile, your hands clenching into tight fists as you step back two steps. 

“You were talking about responsibilities of a dorm leader, so I’m doing my responsibility as well. I’m thanking you.” 

“Ha! Vil-senpai you shouldn’t be thanking me, it was the Headmaster’s decision after all.” 

Even then he shouldn’t be thanking you, if anything you should be thanking him. 

“So you’re just going to refuse my gratitude?” his fingers brush away some strands of your hair, “Did Riddle only teach you one thing?” 

You try to count by 5’s in your head as your face heats up, how were you still standing up? 

“Sorry. You’re right.” you take a deep breathe, “You’re welcome. I’m glad my dorm could be of some service.” 

It was a good idea to leave out the ‘to you’, it would probably creep him out. 

Silence hung heavy in the room as the two of you heard the clock tick away at the minutes, Vil’s arm still blocking your exit to the hallway. 

“Uhm...Vil-senpai?” 

“I want to have no regrets for this VDC, potato. As frustrating as it is...I gave it my all and I lost.” 

You open your mouth to try and console him but he stops you with just a stare. “But I have no regrets on how I approached this. The method was perfect and the song was perfect. I even managed to shape some rough looking potatoes into decent enough students.” 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and picking his words carefully. 

“But I intend to leave this experience with no regrets whatsoever. Both on and off the stage.” 

You tilt your head, “As in?” 

The ticking of the clock stops for a moment as your chin is tilted upwards, starts up again when you feel a hand on your cheek pull you close and stops entirely when a pair of lips press against your own. 

Your arms hang uselessly at your sides as Vil kisses you, his lips unmoving while the hand holding your cheek slithers all the way down to your waist. A shiver runs all the way from the soles of your feet to the top of your head, the sudden rush of warmth making you pull away. 

Yet he selfishly clung to you. 

“Are you going to walk me out, Prefect?” 

The answer is quick as you wrap your arms around his neck, quickly pulling him down for another kiss. His heels click harshly against the wooden flooring as you two walk backwards and fall on your bed, the purple linen you had admired earlier now caressing your arms as you pull away for a quick breather. 

“Vil--” 

He takes advantage of your open mouth, tongue pushing inside and pressing against yours as he pulls your arms away from his neck and pins them to the bedding. You want to keep your eyes open, want to see Vil in ways you hoped nobody else had seen before. The circlet on his head probably disheveled from the rough tumble you two had, the eyeliner pressed so neatly against his eyelid, the way his fingers so delicately kept you from moving as his thumb caressed your wrist. 

You can’t help but whine as he pulls away, trying to follow his lips but being kept in place by those hands on his. Vil watches you take deep gulps of air, his hands squeezing your wrists to keep you in place before moving away to  take off the circle on top of his head as he laid it gingerly on the pillow next to your head. 

“I’m going to ask again, Prefect.” 

Vil presses a kiss to your eyelid, moving down to your cheek and finally your chin as his fingers toy with the first button of your pajama shirt. 

“Are you going to walk me out?” 

He smiles when you hold out your arms open for him, your eyes begging him to not leave you alone. 

Tongues meet before lips as Vil shrugs off his robe and makes himself comfortable in your arms, grabbing his magic pen and flicking his wrist in order to shut the door to your room and locking it. 

Obviously he would have to leave before the raccoon was done with his bath, but he was intending to finish this VDC with no regrets. 

So the little furball could wait. 

--------

Omake: 

“Oi!!! Why did you lock the door!” 

“Grimm don’t come in here!” 

“Hah? You know this is my room too!” 

“I know but right now I’m-ah!-busy! I’m busy!” 

“With what--!” 

“Grimm I’m just busy! Ace left a bunch of his snacks down in the kitchen! I’ll let you take dibs on whatever you want!” 

“....no take backsies?” 

“No--oh Great Sevens--no take backsies!” 

“Fgnaa! I’ll dig in then~!”