#our lead writer everyone

[tippenfunkaport]

That viral post that's going around about how people who write "book quality" mlm fic are too "normal" to publish and have real jobs so only "weird" people publish their "shitty" fanfic is so completely out of touch with reality and I am giving a massive side eye to everyone reblogging it.

Not only is it completely, easily verifiably untrue (you cannot enter any professional writing space without tripping over a dozen grizzled scifi writers who got their start by filing off the serial numbers and publishing their Star Trek fanfic even going back decades ago??? it's a whole thing?? plus how can you look at the mlm category on Amazon right now and say with a straight face that people aren't publishing shitty Spirk and Stucky fanfic??? Oh, honey...) it's also the perfect example of this kind of sneering elitism that true artists would never sully themselves by seeking profit, they do it only for the purity of the thing that always somehow leads back to, "no one should be paid to make art, actually."

The only reason you're seeing more published fanfic right now has nothing to do with the idealistic purity of your hypothetical government employee written smut of the past vs the debased scribbles of those awful straights of today and everything to do with the fact that a) self-publishing has created a voracious readership that wants a ton of content so it's become a viable, flexible income stream for many, especially disabled people b) anyone can publish now with self-publishing tools so there are less gatekeepers and c) lockdown got a lot of people into fandom and therefore writing who never tried it before.

And if you really think there's no "shitty" published mlm and no "book-quality" m/f writing out there that started as fanfic, then you are clearly not a reader so why are you even talking about this?

[stormhearty]

Paring: former Azriel x Reader

Triggers: mentions of cheating, mentions of death, cursing, a lot of bold and italicize

Word Count: 3K+

Summary: The High Lords called a meeting to discuss the Death-God’s resurrection. However, with the death of their Seer, tensions run high between Day and Night Court, Helion outraged by the loss of your life. Truths are revealed and lies are exposed. And what happens when the High Lords realize that they have all been too late?

Note: I thank you all for all the love you have given to my one shot!! I had never thought it would have been so well received by fans and writers! I am very amused by everyone's reactions and thoughts on the one shot — everyone is wanting blood and redemption for our poor reader. And she will! This chapter is a segway/filler chapter — but still important. It's still angsty, don't worry. This one shot will probably become a 3 part series. I know in that voting poll I had done asked if you guys wanted a 5k chapter, rather than a 2- 2k chapters, but I wanted to leave you guys with one more chapter to look forward to! Please look forward to it!

Part One | Part Three | Epilogue

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

“You had abandoned my emissary, disregarded her sight and had her take her own life in your Court… And for what? Your mate’s sister’s powers?!” Helion was fuming, amber eyes staring the High Lord of Night down, “And that her mate — - “a growl escaped his lips, as he glanced at the Spymaster next to Rhysand, “Had cheated on her for said sister?!”

The High Lord of Day’s voice echoed throughout the throne room, shaking its very walls at the allegation of what had happen within the wards of the Night Court. Helion’s fingers gripped the edge of the large round table, his claws causing the wood to splint underneath his fingertips.

“And now… you are telling me that her body disappeared?” his voice deathly low, “That your Spymaster’s shadows had whisked her body away to — God-knows-where… That, that child, never had never had a proper burial?!”

Rhysand couldn’t utter a single word against the claims placed against him and his Court — he couldn’t when everything that Helion had roared was true.

“… Show me…” Helion hissed, focusing at his old friend, “Show us what had happened that day…”

Rhysand gulped, staring at Helion before glancing around the table towards the High Lords of Pyrthian. All of them staring him down before all felt the claws of Rhysand's power creeping in their minds, images of that day of your death playing in their minds — all of them watching the confrontation between the Inner Circle and you — on how you were cornered and betrayed, leading up to your very death.

He hated it. Rhysand not only relived that that multiple times during his dreams — where he had failed you. He now had to relieve it while he was awake. Hearing your pleads and cries for him to listen to your visions, and seeing your body dying on that marble floor — to watch it be taken away by tendrils of shadow.

Once the memory came to pass, sobs echoed throughout the room. Helion being the loudest as he ran a hand down his face, his form shaking in his seat. Rhysand glanced towards his Inner Circle, watching his family relive that moment as well; eyes focusing on Azriel, who gripped the arms of his chair as his face wrinkled in anguish at the memory.

It had been a month ever since your death, a month since the sliver of shadows that once served the Spymaster had taken your body away — unknown to even Azriel on where they had brought your body to. And a month ever since more and more whispers of Koschei’s resurrection echoed throughout the Courts. The Death-God’s power vibrating throughout all of Pyrthian — it was difficult to not miss.

The High Lords gathered in Day Court to strategize on the impending danger of the Death-God. However, it was no secret on what had happened in the wards of Night Court. The loss of your light present throughout all of Pyrthian — every High Lord felt it.

Especially Helion.

He wanted nothing more to hurt and maim every member of the Inner Circle; but that wasn’t the purpose of this meeting — though he wanted it to be.

Helion reigned in his emotions, trying to calm the rage that boiled in his blood. Trying to clam the sadness he felt for the loss of you. He straightened up in his chair, letting out a shaky breath, looking back at the Night Court High Lord.

“… I regret that I ever had sent (Y/N) to your Court, Rhysand,” his tone small and disappointed, “Her powers were wasted on you and your Court. A Seer taking their life, being betrayed by the people she called her family,” His head shaking, a laugh, one so loud and so sarcastic escaping his chest that it echoed in throne room, startling the other High Lords, making Rhysand flinch in his seat. “What a damn found family you made. Betraying one’s mate, betraying a person who had served you for five-hundred fucking years over a female who barely has control over her own powers.”

Amber eyes darted to Elain, as he watched her flinch back, hiding behind the eldest Archeron sister, “What prophecy have you seen now?” the sarcasm very evident in his tone, “Have you seen what (Y/N) has seen? Have you seen the resurrection of Kosechi, as well? Your powers are nothing compared to (Y/N)’s.”

“How dare you talk to someone in my Court like — -” Rhysand started.

“You have no right to challenge me in my own Court, Rhysand!” Helion bellowed, hands slamming on the table, standing up as he glared at his once-called friend, “Do you realize what you have done?! Do you realize why there hasn’t been a Seer in millennials? Why (Y/N) has been the only recorded Seer in the history of Pyrthian? Because Seers have been hunted — by Fae, humans and Gods alike. They are so sought after, for their power, for the knowledge, for their sight. Seers have the power to uncover what is hidden, lurking in the darkness. They are the very light that unveils the darkness. They have been hunted to be exterminated for that very power…”

It had been the very reason why Helion had taken you in when you were a child, guarded carefully in the Day Court. To ensure the prosper of your power, the prosper of your light.

Amber eyes darted around the table, eyes staring at the High Lords that had situated themselves in this very room, listening to his tale before they stared back at Rhysand, “You, being the powerfullest High Lord if all of Pyrthian should have known that. And now, her body, one filled with Unknown-God-and Cauldron bound powers is missing…”

A huff escaped his lips in exasperation as he sat down back into his seat, “Her body should be buried here, in my Court, where she rightfully belongs to. But, no. And none of us could properly pray respects for the loss of her light…”

It was no secret that Helion had a soft spot for you. You were like his child, raising you since you were small, watching you grow and become a bright light within the Day Court. He knew how your light felt, how he basked in it as if it was the sun that radiated overhead.

And so when he had woken up that night in cold sweat, feeling the vanishing of your light — he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

“… — Helion…” Feyre tentatively called out to him, “You said her body is Cauldron bound? What do you mean by that?”

The Day High Lord glanced at the High Lady, staring her down before he nodded his head once. Leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand, “That’s what both myself and (Y/N) believe. (Y/N) is one the strongest Seers I have met in my life, those few Seers that I have encountered, ones that have wanted to remain hidden, are no match to (Y/N)’s powers. Your little Cauldon-Made Seer is no match for her either,” he sneered at the middle Archeron sister.

"There has been little records of Seers in Prythian, we all know that. Not even my libraries had enough information about them and their powers. But, despite that, (Y/N) was able to hone into her powers with little instructions… You know that she doesn’t just see the future, she was able to see what was happening now. She was able to focus on parts of Pyrthian and tell me what is and what will happen.

“But during the war with Hybern, much like when Nesta felt the Cauldron, (Y/N) felt it too. We didn’t know why, but we realized she and the Cauldron were somewhat connected. Whether it be the Cauldron was reason why she has her visions or if the Cauldron was the source of her power, they were bound. A natural connection between the two of them. And when the Cauldron broke, (Y/N) had told me she felt the Cauldron’s power sought refuge with her, as if the Cauldron sought her light.

“After the war, she had asked for my opinion — she felt the remnants of the Cauldron’s power tingling through her. She told me she saw more visions, visions of the far off future that she had no idea when would happen, and that her powers were starting to become out of her control. She was starting to lose herself in her powers, lose her mind to it… I didn’t know how to help her…”

The Inner Circle remembered, weeks after the end of the war, (Y/N) had asked if she could return to Day Court for a few weeks. Rhysand had let her, thinking it was not important. Azriel, too, didn’t question on her reason why she wanted to leave.

It was when they started to not care. When they started to focus their attention to Elain — the Seer that had defeated the King of Hybern.

Helion let out a broken laugh, staring at the Inner Circle, “I’m sure you never knew, did you? On how broken she started to be after the war. You never knew how her sleep was plagued with visions, that she couldn’t even close her eyes without images flashing behind them. Of how she sobbed in bed, wondering if she was in a dream or reality. She couldn’t differentiate anymore… And you…” eyes focusing on Azriel, “You never felt her pain because you put up a wall between your mating bond. Did you know, Azriel…”

The Day High Lord’s tone was seething, remembering those day.

“Did you know, how she cried for you? She begged down the bond for you to come and help. Wanting your protection, wanting to help sooth the pain she had felt? Wanting you just to be there? But all she could feel was the wall you placed, ignoring her… abandoning her when she needed all of you the most…

“I sent her back, hoping that all of you would help. I sent her back with sleeping tonics, hoping to help her with her sleep. Hoping that her family and mate would help her through her toughest time. Hoping that you all would see her. But I can see that never happened. That no matter how much she begged for you all to listen to her visions, to see her in pain, you ignored,” his voice was laced with anger, disappointment.

No one said a word. The air in the room tense and dense at the revelation that Helion lamented. No one knew of what you had gone through.

Azriel felt his his heart burn in his chest, as if his siphons were burning his skin — he felt the remnants of the broken mating bond in his chest, aching more at Helion’s words.

He didn’t know, he didn’t see, he didn’t feel the pain you were going through. He had ignored the tug of the bond when he had that wall up. He had been too infatuated with the middle Archeron sister, wanting her to feel belonged in their Court — all the while alienating the person who had been with him through thick and thin.

And, yet, he couldn’t do the same for you.

Bright blue eyes closed as Feyre silently mourned and apologized to the Heavens, to the night sky where you might have been.

But she realized on the implications of what had Helion had told them — that you might have been the Cauldron-bound object that Koschei needed to escape that lake.

She looked up at Rhysand, and he to her as they communicated down the bond. Both of them realizing what could happen.

The gesture wasn’t missed by Helion as he watched them, waiting for them to explain what they might have discovered. However, when they did not say anything, a growl escaped his chest.

“What is it?”

Feyre and Rhysand looked at the Day High Lord, hesitance shown in their features, “… It’s about what (Y/N) had told us. You all saw it in that memory…”

Helion thought, playing the memory back as he watched remembered your face, the anguish of your features shining through his head, listening to your words — your vision of what might pass.

“… That Koschei needed something from the Cauldron to be released from the lake,” Lucien pointed out from his spot next to Helion, the russete eye looking at Elain before back to Feyre.

“What if…” Tarquin mumbled, “…Koschei found (Y/N)’s body? If you and (Y/N) knew of the connection to the Cauldron, that the Cauldron sought her power. He could use her body to be freed from that lake.”

Helion looked at the Summer High Lord, amber eyes wide at the realization, “… If that were to come to pass, we would be doomed. (Y/N)’s body is probably soaked in Cauldron powers. It would be so easy for Koschei to be freed, and no one would ever notice. It is not impossible, but since (Y/N)’s body has disappeared, it is possible for her to have fallen into his clutches.”

Kallias, in the mist of the conversation, was watching, observing, the only remaining Seer in the room. He leaned forward, bright blue hues staring the Made-Fae, as he rested both arms on the table, “Have you had any visions?”

Heads turned towards the High Lord of Winter at his question. It did not phase him, as he continued, ”I heard from your High Lady that you rarely said anything about your visions, since the Cauldron broke. So do tell us, what have you seen about the Death-God?” If she had her powers still, a Seer would be still useful in this situation.

Elain visibly swallowed, as all attention was on her once more. Brown eyes frantically glanced around the table, over to her sisters and then to Azriel who both looked at her expectedly.

A heartbeat later, and the Middle Archeron sister knew that she couldn't lie.

She shook her head, “I have not seen anything… since the Cauldron broke…” her words nothing but a whisper in the wind.

It was as if a pin dropped on marble floors, the silence in the room was penetrating.

A laugh broke the silence. Eris’ shook his in disbelief on the drama they were hearing, “So you’re telling us, you have been lying about having your powers. And that (Y/N), who has actually seen those visions had taken her life?” he glared at the middle Archeron sister, “For what? Because you needed a position in the Night Court? So that you can gain the Spymaster’s affection? To bed him?”

Elain shook her head again, brown eyes desperate as she tried to catch eye with her family, with Nesta, who just looked away, brows furrowed with anguish, “… I just wanted to be useful…” she whispered in fear, slumping down in her chair, “My powers… were the only thing that made me feel like I belonged… But I didn’t have them, and… I just, didn’t want to lose my family.”

“And yet, you were willing to let (Y/N) lose her family, her mate… and her life. Just to keep your own,” Thesan expressed, "That selfishness will be the downfall of Pyrthian."

Elain flinched at the truth thrown onto her face, eyes down-casting, silence taking over her form.

Before anyone could reprimand Elain for her actions, the grand doors slammed open, a dark mist blowing throughout the room. Frightened and confused screams echoed through the room.

Helion stood up, using his power of light to dissipate the darkness that tried to cover the room. Amber eyes glowed as he watched as a cloaked figure float into the room.

Eyes watched the cloaked figure as it settled its form onto the floor, bare pale feet touching the marble.

“… I would think… that if the Pyrthian High Lords would gather… they would invite a God to their meeting. But I guess, manners do not exist in this world…” the voice was grating and brittle.

The hood swept, as if eyes inside were looking at all the High Lords that were now standing up, all attention to him.

A eerie chuckle escaped the hooded figure, spiny fingers grasping the edge before slipping it down. White hair and black eyes were revealed, pale, sickly skin glowed underneath the darkness that had surrounded him.

The figure bowed, a mocking gesture to the High Lords.

“It seems, that you are unaware of who you are being greeted by…” a boney finger raised up and pointed towards Nesta, the eldest sister stiffening, “Though I’m quite sure you do, dearest sister…” he grinned at her.

Nesta gulped and looked at the uninvited guest. She knew who would greet her like that — only the Death Caver has echoed the same words, “You’re Koschei… aren’t you…”

Koschei grinned wider, head tilting to the side as he stepped forward, laughing as the High Lords ready themselves for a battle with the Death-God.

“Oh don’t be so tense, my High Lords…” he mockingly commented, sweeping a hand, “Please sit… Do not stop your meeting for dear little old me. Though it is such an honor for you to do so.”

He rounded the table, eyes making contact with each of the High Lord, black eyes sweeping over their forms before he stopped before Rhysand.

Violet hues and black sockets stared at each other.

“Though I do have to thank you, High Lord of the Night… You have gifted me the precious gift of life. Though, it was through the loss of one of your own… You might have known her. Cared for her… Loved her…” Koschei looked at Azriel whose hazel eyes burned at the Death-God.

He let out a low laugh.

Tarquin’s assumption was right — the Death-God had used your body to free himself from the lake, right underneath their noses. No one felt it, no one knew. And it had been too late to do anything about it; months too late to prevent the resurrection, months too late to find your missing body, months too late of not listening to you.

Koschei looked behind him, far past the grand windows, the familiar cry of the bird of fire and ash echoing through the lands of Day Court, heading towards them — Vassa had come to stop the sorcerer-lord from his destruction.

However, before she landed on the balcony, an arrow, made of shadow and darkness struck her, causing the great bird to plummet to the land beneath her.

Lucien gasped and ran towards the balcony, peering down to see if the mortal queen had survived the fall; but there was no sign of the cursed queen anywhere below.

“What a dramatic entry by Vassa, as always…” Koschei said with a sigh, before another chuckle escaped his lips, dark eyes boring into the empty spot beside him, “Don’t you think… (Y/N)?”

All heads snapped towards the Deathless God, your name slipping from his lips, as they watched a swirl of darkness materialized a familiar figure. Azriel watched, hazel eyes wide as he took in your form, whisps of shadows that had whirled around you — his shadows, one that had abandoned him ever since your death.

“…(Y/N)…” Azriel whispered in disbelief, his voice shaking.

There you stood, next to the Death-God, very much alive.

Very much like a Death-God yourself.

And it echoed in your outfit — tendrils of shadow made up your dress, covering you from head to toe, fluttering near your feet as if a gown swayed by the wind. In your hands, a bow and arrow made of those shadows — the very bow that had struck Vassa down from her flight.

That was where Azriel’s shadows had gone to — leaving him, following you to your death, and making you someone completely different.

Someone that was going to be the downfall of Pyrthian itself.

Tagging: @cleverzonkwombatsludge, @setayeshmohseni, @kindasleepycryptid, @f4iry-bell, @woodland-mist, @kalulakunundrum, @topaz125, @thelov3lybookworm, @hnyclover, @harrystylesfan2686, @anuttellaa, @ithan-holstroms-girl, @judig92, @venuseuripedis, @fairywriter-oracle, @thehighlordishere, @acourtofbatboydreams, @willowpains, @historygreekqueen, @dr4g0ngirl, @ayme301, @kemillyfreitas, @crazylokonugget, @abysshaven, @michaelharrypotter, @naturakaashi, @kittenbi, @namelesssav, @guiltyreader, @awkardnerd, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @quackitysdrugdealer, @thesunloveschips, @brieflyclassymortal, @justdreamstars, @isa1b2h3, @himesuedi, @fxckmiup, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @t0uch-starved-h0e, @mybestfriendmademe

[mr-walkingrainbow]

DESCENDANTS: The Rise of Red! (or the REAL hidden story in the movie + what’s gonna happen in the sequel THEORY!)

So we ALL watched the movie right? We ALL thought the plot sucked and the movie ended abruptly with a underwhelming climax?

WELL HERES WHY WERE WRONG!

So I did some really deep thinking, and I figured, these writers can’t be THAT stupid? The director can’t be THAT idiotic, lame, and boring? That would just embarrass Disney, not to mention all the well respected actors that are in this!

So I thought hard. I thought hard and I thought long. Like hella long. And I tallied up all the plot inconsistencies, all the weird explanations, all the very specific lines in songs, and I did it. I fixed descendants rise of red! I FIGURED IT OUT!

So!! Here it is! What TRULY happened that crowncoming night! And what going back in time actually did!

(I intentionally put a keep reading so if anyone wanted to avoid spoilers they can)

So! Now that we’re under the keep reading. Anything spoilerly can be said!

So first things first. The biggest theory everyone is saying.

ELLA DID IN FACT POISON BRIDGET!

Yes! I said it! We all thought the movie was leading to this! So it was underwhelming when it was revealed it was Uliana and her crew were the origins behind the prank.

OR WERE THEY?

We all saw that once they opened the book; they were frozen. Because they were ‘bad’ and Merlin’s security system was set into place.

And many of you came up with the giant plot hole that this would have happened REGARDLESS of whether Red and Chloe interfered.

AND YOUR RIGHT!

This sole reason, is why the group COULDNT have done it! Not only were they frozen, but they couldn’t read the recipe, and were properly sent to detention, ergo exonerating them from being at the dance! Meaning their was literally no way they could have been behind the prank!

So with them being withheld from the dance, who could it be? Who was the one person who was originally at the dance, but now no longer could be? What was the one actual change that Red and Chloe set off?

ELLA. AND THE VASE!

We all see that when the two go into Ella’s house, Chloe knocks over a Vase. Breaking it. Lady Tremaine GROUNDS Ella! Meaning that she COULD NOT go to the dance!

This DIDNT happen originally! Meaning Ella DID go to the dance in the original timeline! Which is proven when Cinderella (I’m calling Adult Ella, Cinderella) talks to The Red Queen (I’m calling Adult Bridget The Red Queen) about how the prank being pulled was wrong. She had first handed knowledge of the prank. AND she told Chloe she fell in love with Charming at the dance.

But! Since Ella is the only difference in the two timelines in regarding to the dance, this is PROOF that she was the one who actually pranked Bridget, NOT Uliana and her crew!

So here’s what I think happened!

Ella, who saw Bridget being bullied about the cupcakes, and saw Uliana take all the cupcakes. And promptly being threatened by Uliana. Decided to bake Bridget something to cheer her up. However Bridget literally has all of the cookbooks in auradon. As shown. So she snoops around and finds Merlin’s cookbook! (Because it’s also shown she’s okay with breaking the rules if it’s for a good cause. From her get our hands dirty song!) and double and, the book WOULD open for her because she is a good person. AND she was doing it for a good reason!

she flips through the book and finds some simple blase recipe that cheers Bridget up. Maybe gives her cool hair (Red hair??). Something simple but sweet.

However. While doing this, she happens to see the Monster food recipe. She doesn’t look at it for long of course. Just enough to remember it’s a thing.

BACK TO BRIDGET!

Now! I swear to whatever’s out there that the person who played Chloe said there was a queer character in Dedcendants 4. I can’t find it now but it was some tumblr or insta post. I know cause I immediately told my friend afterwards.

Anywho. I think Bridget is the queer character! We see in the movie her only friend was Ella. Not only that but she YEARNS for someone to care about enough to ask her out (in a romantic way like charming just tried to do for Ella) Ella, who again. Is Bridget’s only friend. And ergo, shows her love no one else does, IMMEDIATELY asks her to go to the dance with her! (Might have said as friends in the other timeline too. Who knows)

But! This only makes Bridget’s crush on Ella even BIGGER. And she falls in love with her! She probably thinks they might have a chance!

This is also somewhat proven by The Red Queens song ‘Love Ain’t It’

Title ; Love Ain’t It

Red : “With all the Grief you’ve experienced”

Red (Speaking of Cinderella) : So you Knew her?

The Red Queen : I saw through her. Cinderella and I were classmates in a way.

(Notice how she uses Ella’s mocking name after she has time to recover from the interaction. She said ELLA originally when she caught her off guard. Also. The line. I SAW THROUGH HER. It’s a double edged sword. Saw through her fronts. Saw the hurting girl inside. Saw through her LIES saw the mean girl behind)

Proven by the next lines

The red Queen : I spent way to much time in this place

So I had to escape

the people might smile

but their two faced, too fake.

Girl was relentlessly bullied and betrayed by someone she loved

And Ella Knows it.

Cinderella : Some people act mean at first, because their too afraid to feel

[the reverse is also true]

Cinderella : Look hon. Back in high school, a mean prank was played

And ever since that fateful day

She was never the same, it’s quite a shame.

So the Red Queen sings a whole song about how Love isn’t it. And we ALL KNOW that her only connection to love as a kid was through ELLA. meaning Bridget HAD A CRUSH on Ella. Was IN LOVE. With Ella.

So. How did Crowncoming originally happen you ask?

Here’s my theory

Ella and Bridget go to the dance. They are happy! They have fun. Bridget falls further in love with Ella. Meanwhile. Ella falls in love with Charming!

Her and Charming hit it off. And Ella starts to feel loved and appreciated for the first time in her life.

Then, Bridget performs her ‘Shuffle of Love’ dance. All the attention is on her! Even Charmings.

Ella feels robbed. She feels jealous. She feels angry that her friend is stealing the one good moment she is finally having to herself.

And so she briefly remembers the spell. And in a moment of error, she either A. Remembers the recipe already and makes the recipe. Or B. Re-Sneaks back into the office to see it. However I’m going with A because the book wouldn’t have opened again for Ella because of her bad intentions.

Whichever way. Bridget eats the baked treat. (I think it was a cupcake. Ella could have lied and said it was from the earlier batch)

And then. IT HAPPENS! Bridget is turned into an ugly terrifying monster. Everyone LAUGHS at her. Everyone makes fun of her

And Bridget, who is confused, understands only ONE person could have done this to her. She looks at someone she was in love with. And just sees Ella and Charming laughing. Laughing at her. Bonding over laughing at HER.

Bridget runs off. In tears. Broken inside. With an equally broken heart.

Maybe if Ella had immediately realized her error and run after her she would have turned out differently. But no. It is proven that Ella stayed at the dance and stayed with Charming. They wouldn’t have had the chance to fall in love if she left.

So Bridget. Spends the rest of the night terrified. Looking like a monster. And being laughed and screamed and made fun of everywhere she goes. And not only that. But her ONLY FRIEND. Her CRUSH. Someone she TRUSTED did this to her

Now THIS! THIS is something can break a person. This is something that can change their views on the world. On humanity itself. She was a kind girl. Was kind to everyone no matter how meanly they treated her. But through it all, Ella was her rock. Her friend. Her secret love. Someone who was good and kind through it all.

But she betrayed her. Tbe one nice person betrayed her. Showing that being nice doesn’t do it. Being nice does not mean good things happen. Being nice doesn’t is worthless if this is what it gets you. Everyone is two faced. And the only thing that’s real. The only thing she CAN feel. Is hurt. And pain. And fear. And so that’s what she swears to become. That’s what she swears to do. Be mean and cruel and heartless so she never has to feel all this pain ever again. So her eventual DAUGHTER never has to feel this again. It’s better to be alone and feared. Then alone and broken.

Ella probably realized the error of her ways the next day. But as she said. It was too late. Bridget was never the same.

This Explains why they had so many odd interactions. The raw feral burning chemistry between them. All the odd phrase. Why The Red Queen would be okay sending her BEST FRIEND to death. Why she would be okay killing her. And taking over auradon. To Her? Cinderella is the one who made her this way.

but also part of her still remembers. Still cares. It’s why she gave her once chance to kneel to her. (And as we’ve noted in the books and movies. She doesn’t give ANYONE else a second chance. She punishes I’m immediately and harshly)

And so! With all of this happening. Theirs gonna be some catylist in recent times. The Red Queen might be nice now. But something will have changed. Ella never went to the dance. (She clearly fell in love with charming somewhere else cause otherwise Chloe would have disappeared) but something happened when she wasn’t at the dance. Something that caused another problem. And THATS gonna be the sequel to this movie. Descendants : Rise of Red part two.

(as we’ve seen the official script for the movie is literally called Descendants : Rise of Red part one. MEANING they wrote it with the purpose of being part one to either a sequel or a threequal)

And THAT! Ladies and Gentleman, is what I think the REAL plot behind Descendants : Rise of Red is! A movie that is not idiotically not thought out at all, but really something so secretly genuis is blows your mind!

Hope you enjoyed!

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Glimmering Shadows Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader

Summary: After the mating bond between the two of you formed, Azriel takes you to meet his family for a dinner.

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: Mentions of family problems, but other than that just some cute fluff

A/N: Sorry this was so long coming I went through some writer’s block, but it’s here now and I hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist

Your family hadn’t been the most supportive, which was expected when you suddenly told them that you were mates with not just a Night Court resident, but the Spymaster of Night Court, a male shrouded in mystery and vicious rumors of the things he’d done, how he was a violent, secretive and dangerous person.

Even your attempts to convince them otherwise hadn’t yielded much.

“He’s dangerous, especially for our kind. You’re delicate, he’s..anything but.” Your father had spoken, your mother just seeming concerned. They hadn’t told the rest of your family the truth behind your absence, other than the fact that you wouldn’t be coming back for quite a while.

Being cut off completely from your family hurt, they’d been there for your entire life, your first steps, first words, birthdays, graduations, heartbreaks, everything. But you didn’t have time to think about that now, not as you were standing outside the family townhouse of Azriel’s adoptive family, most of them being people he’d known for centuries.

It was more than a bit nerve-wracking.

“You don’t have to do this if it’s too much.”

Azriel’s voice, quiet and low, but soothing said. You swallowed, shaking your head. You would do this. His family had already been told that you would join them tonight, and you’d even dragged him out to help pick a dress, even though he said they all looked good on you.

You’d ended up choosing a light pink romper, a color that complimented your hair, and your light shimmery wings and the pixies that surrounded them. You hadn’t ever intentionally kept your wings out around strangers, but you felt like it was wrong to try and hide anything from your mate’s family. Especially since you suspected that he was waiting for his family’s approval to accept the bond.

“I want to.”

You replied quietly to him, his hands sliding into yours, a movement that was second nature by now. He gave you one last glance that said, “You can back out, I won’t be upset” but you only shook your head. He nodded almost imperceptibly, before gently leading you into the house, and opening the door.

The home itself was customized to everyone inside, and it was obvious. From the Illyrian-sized couch and armchairs to the large fireplace, or the garden in the backyard you could see through the windows or the paintings of the family. You recognized some, like the High Lord and his mate, or the General, then Azriel as well as a few other women.

As soon as you and Azriel were even three steps into the home, you were greeted with a little toddler squealing and hugging Az’s leg, before gaping up at you and reaching up to try and tug at your wings, seemingly fascinated with how they looked. Luckily, the High Lady scooped him up and away just in time, giving you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, he’s wild these days. I’m Feyre, this is my son, Nyx.”

You smiled, looking down at the little boy and then at the female.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m-“

“Is Az’s girlfriend here?”

An excited and teasing voice asked, peeking around the corner before the General himself came into view. He was tall, muscular, and very brusque looking, a stern-looking female followed behind him, shooting him a look.

“Don’t cut her off,”

She snapped at him, and Cassian winced, hand going to rub the back of his neck as he sheepishly grinned.

“I’m Nesta, and this big idiot is my mate, Cassian.”

She said, eyes looking you up and down before whatever standards she held in her head were appeased and she relaxed a bit.

“I’m Y/N.”

You said, feeling oddly nervous now even though the hard part was mostly over. Rhysand strode into the room, smiling at you before murmuring something to Feyre and picking Nyx up and holding the little boy. It was a bit funny seeing the mighty High Lord having his ears and hair yanked on by a little toddler.

“Rhys, but I’m sure you already know that.”

He said in an amused tone, and Cassian snorted.

“Hard not to know your name when you’re such a massive prick.”

He said in a joking but casual tone with a crooked grin as he poked Rhys in the elbow, the High Lord squirming a bit. You glanced back at Azriel, amused, and his hazel eyes seemed to almost glitter as he smiled at you, looking gleeful that you were getting along with his family, or at least finding them entertaining.

Rhys rolled his eyes at Cassian’s remark, slipping his arm around his mate’s, and began walking into the kitchen.

“Oh, shut it. Let’s just eat dinner already.”

He said, and Azriel gave you a reassuring glance, arm gently placed around your waist as he led you into the kitchen that smelled of delicious food, and the two of you sat down, greeted with generous plates at the center of the table of meats, sides, all sorts of foods. Some of which you hadn’t ever seen in Spring Court.

The cooks, it seemed, were two shadowy females who you couldn’t tell apart, and another female, this one seemed like she could’ve been from Spring herself, happily finishing up the rest of the food with a warm smile. When she caught sight of you while putting the rest of the food at the center of the table, she offered a smile.

“I’m Elain.”

She said simply with a little nod before everyone else sat at the table. Nesta was to your left, Azriel to your right. Everyone got themselves some generous helpings of the large plate fills of food at the center, Azriel helping you cut up some of the meat that you couldn’t.

“Thanks,”

You said to him in a quiet tone, he smiled in a wry manner, raising a brow at you.

“It wasn’t that hard.”

He murmured back, and you gave him a look.

“If I knew you were so good at handling meat, I might’ve asked you sooner.”

You said back, and Cassian must’ve heard what you said because he snorted and choked on his food while Nesta smirked. Azriel only shook his head and smiled, giving you an amused and affectionate look that made your stomach fill with little butterflies. Rhys glanced between the two of you, a feline smile gracing his lips.

“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”

He asked in an amused tone, at which Azriel only sighed, giving Rhys a little half-assed glare as his shadows slithered onto your skin and dress.

“It’s not hard,”

You said in an amused tone, at which Cassian let out a bark of laughter, Rhys shook his head and the females exchanged glances. Even Azriel let out a laugh at that, the sound deep and rich. The entire room went silent at that, them staring at Azriel, though he was too busy watching you to notice or care.

“Damn, you really do, huh?”

Cassian asked in an almost disbelieving tone, and Rhys, finally overcoming his surprise, smiled.

“I haven’t heard him laugh like that in nearly two centuries,”

He said, at which Azriel finally snapped back into reality, hand tightening around your waist as his cheeks lightly dusted with pink.

“Or that time when he watched you fall out of that big ass tree, that was pretty funny.”

Cassian said with a grin, and Nesta and Feyre both laughed.

“At least I didn’t get called ‘Cass with the Ass’ for my first few years at camp.”

Rhys retorted, and Cassian sputtered, looking to Nesta for some support, and getting none as she too snickered at the nickname. You giggled quietly and Azriel smirked. Cassian huffed, grumbling something under his breath.

“Someone’s jealous of my ass.”

He grumbled, and Rhys rolled his eyes.

“We all know that your ass is just overcompensating for something else.”

He said dryly, and everyone laughed at that, even Cassian had to admit that it was good.

Beneath everyone’s laughter, Azriel pulled you a bit closer to him from his chair, smiling at you as if it were just the two of you in the room. You smiled back, leaning into him as the two of your chairs scooted closer.

‘I love you’, he mouthed to you, the truth of it clear in his eyes.

‘I love you too’, you mouthed back.

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@deepestmentalitypersona

@hqmsby

[b00tyliciousbabe]

da vinci

pairing: dacre montgomery x male reader

summary: just the actor fawning over the abundance in your cultural capital.

request: @gayaristocrat YOU ARE THE VISUSLS BBY! thanks sm for your patience, plus the anon who also requested a while back, i hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing.

notes: happy pride! after FINALLY handing in my art coursework, this is my projection onto the character of the reader. never will i ever pick up another paintbrush - well…also officially finished my exams now so i am a slut for y’all’s requests! flood my inbox (but more importantly my hole) xx

song rec: naomi sharon - definition of love

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

dating dacre was nothing short of a dream. he always made you feel so at ease. he loved how creative you were - the perfect match to his inner theatre kid. taking him to fashion exhibitions + poetry slams, and the actor inviting you to theatre shows, seeing the world through each others’ eyes made the time together even more precious. you first met at a ballet show. he had been dragged to see it by a few of his castmates, but was more so enjoying the bts view of you with the dancers. you were backstage fitting all the dancers and making sure they were all comfortable in what you styled. he managed to peek behind the curtain and saw your beautiful, so focused on draping the fabric of the lead’s skirt.

fuck, you were fine.

but he didn’t think much of it, just some cute guy, with beautiful eyes, who probably had a boyfriend. he took his seat and watched it with his friends. one of them was engaged to one of the dancers and so took dacre to the dressing rooms after the show. after introducing the two of you, y’all were practically drooling over each other. barely a word was said between you, but your hearts’ communicated greater feelings than mere speech ever could. they say love at first sight is something for the big screen, but your initial encounter rivalled the biggest stories of romance any writer could ever craft.

from that night, you practically were together, with the tabloids plastering the two of you holding hands, yachting in capri. the pop culture side of twitter was OBSESSED with your relationship to the actor and was in constant awe with how perfect you guys were for each other.

y/nsupremacy: you guys make my heart smile

user111: they’d make such cute babies

dacrefanclub6: sexiest couple on the internet

there was even a time where he had to do a nude scene in an upcoming blockbuster and the whole world saw how much your man was packing. in his press tour, the panel of interviewers didn’t shy away from your bf’s HUGE deal, some even made inappropriate comments.

‘god bless bottoms like y/n, he be taking that shit better than a pornstar’

‘poor y/n, how does that thing even fit?’

‘checks out…big booty bitches y/n deserves to be fucked by hung men.’

dacre was afraid that you would feel uncomfortable with the constant media comments on your thickness, but he had nothing to fear. you embraced it, you were said to have the best bod in fashion. as much as he tried to keep his life with you private, he lowkey wanted to let the world know that how much of a good boy you were for him.

dacre: ‘in all fairness i ain’t had any complaints from him so…’

dacre: ‘but…our neighbours definitely hate us.’ he remarks with a devilish grin.

everyone was rooting for your relationship, and what better way to show this than him enlisting the joint troops of your fandoms to surprise you whilst you were working in paris. he had gotten some time away from filming and decided to come and visit your atelier in paris. sprawled out on your desk, with needles and materials adorning the creative canvas of the room, he saw you hard at work. with the same vein poking through your forehead as the first time he laid eyes on your angelic physique, he could’ve fallen in love all over again.

‘hey babe’ he came up to you with flowers. ‘you look ravishing tonight’ rolling his r’s with a tenacity that made you smile. his tone always made you feel so safe.

‘i ain’t even dressed yet,’ you protest, dusting off the loose threads and sequins from your sweats. ‘you’re beautiful in whatever you wear,’ coming closer and gripping underneath your butt, ‘even prettier with less on.’ dacre quips as his lips tickle your ear.

‘dacre stop,’ you laugh out. ‘that giggle of yours is so infectious.’ he crashes his lips into you, the flowers dropping haphazardly onto the desk as he pushed his tongue deeper.

he was wearing the blazer you had designed for his birthday last year, paired with a pendant necklace with the first initial of your name on it. he looked so sexy. ‘can’t seem to keep my hands off off of you.’ he breathed, nudging his jacket off.

‘nuh uh, we have dinner reservations.’ nudging him away.

‘fuck. why’d you gotta be so damn sexy?’ he sounded aggravated but you pecked him again, ‘don’t worry, i am all yours tonight.’

taking you to the balcony of a quaint, parisian bistro, the chill of the capital’s air made the two of you even more enamoured, your hearts burning passionately. whilst eating, you got some sauce on the corner of your lips, as he pushes it back into your mouth. ‘gotta get you used to the feeling of a foreign object in your mouth before tonight, don’t i?’ dacre always loved being dirty in public and you made sure to satiate his exhibitionist kink.

after many glasses of wine, you made your way to the louvre. with your many contacts you managed to snag an after hours tour - solo. you were much more of a lightweight than your boyfriend (the man could drink like a pirate and be even more chipper than before) and you couldn’t walk in a straight line for more than a few metres. he let you go so he could see your figure and admire it from afar, but as soon as he saw you stumble, dacre’s hand on your waist guided you to safety and sobriety.

y’all ran throughout the museum, finally landing and kissing in front of the mona lisa. it was such a picturesque moment. the taxi ride back to the hotel was such a fever dream, y’all were all over each other, your chauffeur knew well to close the barrier and give you two some alone time.

‘have i ever told you how beautiful you are?’ he says slurring his speech.

‘tell me again…’ you implored.

‘the most beautiful boy in the world.’ he reassured, pulling you in as the city of paris lit up, illuminating your eyes.

you called him an ‘eager beaver’ as dacre stumbled the two of you into the hotel you were staying at. he grunts between kisses,‘you know you love me.’ serving you with another peck. he stripped your clothes as you followed suit with his own, leaving a chasm of fabric in the corner of the room.

only your shared jewellery was left to remove. you fell back seductively onto the mattress. as dacre crawled on top of you with a dark lust growing in his eyes, you pulled him by the pendant around his neck.

the muscular man laid atop of you, placing each hand on the bed at dip of your waist, using his palms as a fulcrum to steady himself. you glanced down to see the light reflecting off his abs as they danced on the curves of your body.

‘you’re so beautiful.’ he whispered, kissing your cheek and cupping your face.

he lifted himself from your figure, grabbing your thighs and placing your feet at either side of his head.

kissing your legs softly ‘so fucking soft.’ he moaned into your skin. his dick was throbbingly red, precum glazing his cock as he slowly thigh fucked you. he folded his arms around your plush knees, and kept that pace, your fingers grazing his cock head each time it escaped the warm walls of your inner thighs. to your annoyance, he kept this up for what felt like forever. halting, you felt his rock length graze your hole.

‘dacre, put it in already!’ you said with overstimulated passion, earning a snicker from your boyfriend.

knowing that you were beginning to grow impatient, he caresses the flesh of your abdomen. ‘look who’s eager now?’ he smirked.

shut up,’ stroking his happy trail with an endearment. you looked up at him and bit your lip. ‘I need you, please.’ his mouth agape at you ‘of course baby.’

he laced his fingers into yours. rocking slowly into you. his huge dick stretching you out slowly as the the dimly lit room made his ash blue eyes appear dark with lust.

‘fuck, have i missed this pussy’ rhetorically muttering. dacre began whispering sweet nothings into your ear:

‘you’re doing so well.’

‘taking it like my good little boy aren’t you?’

he made you so hot. lifting himself onto his toes, he angled himself directly into you, placing his entire weight on you. fucking down into your hole, your boyfriend was hitting nerves that had been neglected in his absence.

your sphincter began tightening around him, dacre knew what this meant - your release would soon follow. he started kissing your neck, and circled your left nipple with his thumb, goading your orgasm out of you as he started drilling a bit faster. dacre chased his own high begging you to finish with him whilst slurring his words.

‘take it, baby it’s all yours. UGHHHHH’ he busted strongly inside you. his big balls slapped at your butt one last time, reassuring both of you that he had seeded you deeply. you came all over his chest, as he chuckled.

‘love it when you paint me, that’s that sexy shit i like.’ he praised giving you an eskimo kiss to calm you from my high.

‘y/n,’ he whispered, big spooning you.

‘what’s wrong baby?’ you sounded concerned, cradling his hand.

‘nothing love, i just,’ he paused hesitantly.

you turned back to face him. ‘what is it? you know you can tell me anything.’

‘I just need you to know how much i missed you,’

‘oh dacre, you already did an amazing job showing me.’ You joke ‘I feel so…enlightened right now.’

he lets out a sad deep chuckle, turning to him and stroking his cheek ‘I missed you too.’

he gripped your waist, taking your words as a source of comfort. pushing his tongue down your throat.

‘ready for round two,’ you say, massaging his dick with your palm, getting him ready.

‘always.’ he affirms, spanking your ass and turning you over. the first round was very much for your pleasure and to let you know that he had truly craved your body.

but seeing your coke bottle body all splayed out for him? it was here that dacre’s beast was awoken.

‘ass up for me baby.’ he said guiding you to a more comfortable position. he massaged your thick cheeks and started eating you out. his large hands looked abysmally small in comparison to how juicy your ass was.

‘I ain’t gonna show you any mercy this time, you know the safe word, but i don’t think we’ll be needing it.’ he muttered, kissing down your spine before impaling you.

‘shitttt dacre, slow down.’

‘shut the fuck up and take that shit like the pretty, little cockwhore you are.’ dacre degraded, knowing how much you loved his dom/aggressive nature almost as much as his softer side.

dacre began going ham on your poor hole. he stood up as he began pulling you into him from the edge of the bed. with one hand crossed against your cheek and the other in his hair, he had to compose himself - else he come to quickly.

he fucked into you at a painfully quick pace, but it felt so good having him take control. dacre slutted you out almost unconscious for a bit and you were brought back to earth as he hit your second hole.

‘fuck baby,’ ‘I will never get tired of that ass.’ he said watching your thickness bounce against his abs. you started becoming more active, pushing back onto him for a heightened pleasure.

‘shake it for daddy, theeeere ya go, that’s MY shit baby. FUUUUUUUCK.’

‘oh god, your dick is so good, dacre.’ you moan out , which is enough to send him over the edge.

he came as your ass halted at his base. tightenibg around him he started breathing falteringly. ‘baby d-don’t do that, shiiiiit.’ he started leaking like a faucet. trying to thrust inside with some rhythm (to no avail), he collapsed on top of you.

‘I love you so much.’ you say breathlessly.

‘the feeling is so mutual babe.’ he kissed into your skin.

‘y/n, you’re so fucking wet,’ he spoke under his breath. still inside that filled pussy of yours, his cum and your slick provided a juicy lubricant. as he pulled out, the cum oozing out of your wrecked hole pooled into his pubes and on the duvet cover. the two of you were completely oblivious to the mess, and cuddled in the filth you’d created - a filth you were looking forward to adding to in the morning.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@ghostking4m

@lysanderplume

[writers-hq]

WHY IS WRITING IS SO FUCKING HARD?

Ten types of fuckery that stop you from writing the thing:

1. Imposter syndrome

You think you're not good enough or everyone else is better than you and you're just winging it AKA ye olde imposter syndrome bullshit. Yeah nah you're fine. No really, you're exactly where you need to be right now, and you'll keep getting better and better so long as you don't stop. Chances are, if you're filled with doubt about your abilities it means you've actually improved to the point where you can really start to understand what makes good writing. It means you know where you wanna end up and goshdarn it you're gonna get there.

Read this: 4 tips to kick imposter syndrome in the face and also genitals

And also this: How to silence the inner critic

2. Fear of rejection and/or failure

Yeah, us too. It fuckin sucks. BUT. Not all rejections are equal. And rejection is a necessary part of the process. Sometimes it takes a rejection to realise that a story isn't ready. Sometimes a rejection is entirely subjective and has ZERO reflection on the quality of your work. But shying away from the very idea of possibly maybe hypothetically getting rejected is only going to hold you back from even trying. And knowing why you got rejected and how to learn from it is one of the most valuable writing skills.

Read this: The different types of rejection (and how to deal with 'em)

Then read this: How to cope with rejection

And also this: Writing lessons from Groundhog Day

3. Not enough planning / too much planning

Leaping into a new story with nothing but a glimmer of an idea is exciting as heck (and can sometimes be a great way to begin) but at some point you're gonna need some sort of outline or plan to keep you on track. HOWEVER. Planning your story to within an inch of its life can also sometimes be a hindrance - leaving you stuck in the hypothetical stage of the process where your story doesn't quite exist yet (and therefore avoiding the prospect of it sucking). The sweet spot is in the middle. Having just enough of a plan to know where tf you're going, but enough freedom and flexibility to let the story lead the way...

Read this: Planning vs pantsing

Then read this: Five plotting techniques

And also this: The perils of overplanning

4. Your WIP just isn't working

Sometimes things just fall flat. Sometimes you work on the same story for yeeeeears and then it just kinda... dies. Sometimes you have the best plans (see above) and the best intentions and things still don't work out. Sometimes it's just time to move on. And sometimes it's not! Sometimes a story can be revived, fixed or changed. Sometimes you just need time. Sometimes YOU'RE the one that's changed and this isn't the story you need to be writing right now. Many variables. Muchly personal. Read the things below for more advice cos this is a big question:

Read this: What to do when your WIP isn't working

And also this: Give it space - how to grow a story in your head

Or how about this? Editing 101

5. You keep deprioritising it

Ah the irony of writing being the thing you love/want to do most of all AND YET the thing you procrastinate over and avoid and shove to the very bottom of your to-do list all the freakin' time. Maybe it's the comodification of art destroying our freedom to create without pressure. Maybe it's late capitalism sucking up all our available time and energy. Maybe it's a lack of self-belief subconsciously telling us our 'little hobby' doesn't really matter. Maybe it's maybelline. Whatever it is, you have the power to reclaim and revalue your writing. To say, "I'm a fucking writer, goddamnit!" and mean it. To ringfence your creative time so nothing and nobody gets to interrupt it. To do that thing you love.

Read this: Prioritise your writing

Read this: How to write in 30 second bursts

6. Shiny Thing Syndrome

You know that feeling when you're just getting stuck into a writing project and then — SQUIRREL! — you get distracted by another, better, more shiny writing project? Or maybe you're deep in the editing phase and your current WIP just isn't feeling very shiny at all and pretty much ANYTHING seems more exciting? Or you simply can't decide which of the many squirrelly writing ideas to actually start? You, fine writerperson, may be suffering from Shiny Thing Syndrome (STS). But fear not! There are a few ways to combat it, depending on the cause, and most of them involve embracing the squirrel-brain and injecting a bit of fun into your writing, like so:

Read this: Shiny thing syndrome - a writer's malady

Aaaand read this: Get excited about your writing again

And also this: Write like a kid

7. Perfectionism/self-sabotage

Look. Writing is scary as shit. What if someone READS it? What if they don't like it? What if they see into your soul and gain a deeper understanding of you through your words? Writing your truth, being vulnerable, smearing your heart juice all over the page? No thank you. But also, that's where the good shit is, so actually yes please. Just make sure you smear responsibly. And rest assured, even the most 'successful' and experienced writers ALSO feel like this sometimes, so you're in good company. It's just part of the art, bruh.

Read this: Why writing is scary (and why that's a good thing)

Read this: Beginning a story - what stops us starting?

And also this: Get out of your own way

8. The dreaded blank page

Oh godddd the blank page. It should be an exciting palimseset of possibility but is somehow also the most terrifying thing known to humankind. You wanna write something but where to start? HOW to start? You type that first line and immediately delete it. You watch the cursor blinking at you—taunting you—until you just give up and shut your laptop again. It's probably tied up with a bunch of things we've already covered so far: perfectionism, imposter syndrome, fear of failure, maybe a lack of planning or faith in your story or whatever. But it doesn't have to be this way. A blank page IS exciting and full of possibility. We just have to get over ourselves and learn to embrace the unknown...

Read this: Don't fear the blank page

And also this: The moaning method

9. Not enough time/energy/motivation/gnuuuughh

Dude, same x 1000. But you don't have to get up at 5am, do hot yoga, drink a kale smoothie and write a thousand words before sunrise to be a Proper Writer. You don't even have to write every day. But what you can do is hack your writing brain and figure out when, where, how, and why you write most effectively. Then tweak your schedule, your habits, and your attitude to ensure you're making the most of your time. Productivity is a big ol' lie but finding the secret to getting in your own personal writing zone is actual MAGIC.

Read this: Maximise your writing time

And also this: Get in the writing zone

And also unto this: The Writers' HQ Guide to Productivity

10. You're just fucken stuck

Got the writing morbs? In need of some literary sudafed? Stuck as a pig in a poke? Writing is a whole puzzle of a process—and to be honest that's what makes it so fun and exciting and addictive, because your writing brain is hardwired to both create AND solve the wordy puzzles within your story. Sometimes the answer is time. Sometimes it's a second opinion or a fresh eye. Sometimes a totally different approach or just a hefty kick up the bum. But whatever the problem, there IS a solution. You just gotta keep going and trust that you'll find it...

Read this: Troubleshoot your writing - why are you stuck?

And also this: Break through the writing blockage

And also also this: Write yourself into a pit (and then dig your way out again)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alright, that's it for today. Now go write, you flithy animals.

(And if we missed anything, stick a question in our ask box or check out the rest of our shit here)

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine | a writing exercise

excuse me, can i please talk to you for a minute? do you know somebody named...y-you know his name. oh yeah, definitely, i know his name. well, i just want to let you know that he's mine. no, no, he's mine.

hi, this is carol and i wanted to create a fun blurb writing exercise a la @superblysubpar and @chechelia considering the current state of the eddie munson x reader fandom. i, personally, can barely stand the seemingly never ending infighting between writers and groups on here. whether it be writing style or characterization, it seems everyone sort of has a problem with everyone. (not me tho, i truly am vibing). in the words of monica and brandy 'you need to give it up, had about enough'. -- so instead of leaving, i wanted to try something fun, fresh, and cute to bring us together. we all have our own eddie munson head cannons that we hold near and dear to our hearts. but i think that's part of what's fun about fandom, there's a little something for everyone. so this exercise is a way for us to all be on the same playing field -- same prompt/dialogues we have to use. only written how your personally HC eddie, our og guy (no au versions pls). i loved how this manifested on cece's old blog because it was so fun to see what people came up with. below is the dialogue and prompt as well as the best way to participate. yes, if you are a steve girl you can participate lol. if you are someone who has me blocked and/or vice versa and would like to participate, please send your link to a friend so i can add it in an upcoming masterlist.

the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer. props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook. dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order): - "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" - "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true." - "and you like that?" - "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem." these don't have to be sexy. they don't have to lead to anything. it's just a romantic night in -- and it can end in anything. angst, fluff, smut, alien invasion. who cares! i just wanna see how you'd write in your world with YOUR eddie. so we can see all of our eddies!

to participate, please write a blurb or ficlet titled 'the boy is mine (____'s edition)' and tag me so that i can add you to the upcoming masterlist. share each other's ficlets. enjoy how they differ and how they are the same. what do we all think is true? what do we differ on? i think this could be really cool.

here's a list of people i'm tagging from different 'x reader' groups to spread the word -- but everyone feel free to do it, please! share with your friends, encourage your friends to do it too: @loveshotzz @chechelia @abibliophobiaa @aphrogeneias @jo-harrington @bewilderedbunny @impmunson @queenimmadolla @oneforthemunny @superblysubpar @sweetsweetjellybean @rebelfell @crappymixtape @lesservillain @courtingchaos @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing @bimbobaggins69 @blueywrites @lonelysatellites @wroteclassicaly @wheels-of-despair @rip-quizilla @upsidedownwithsteve @powderblueblood

[littlelovelyra]

The Change.

Astarion x F!Tav

Inspiration: What if Cazador got hold of Tav (Astarion's lover) first?

"My, my, it seems my most favoured spawn has been busy…"

Roughly 4,450 words. (I know its long, I couldn't stop)

Triggers: Cazador, abuse (as minimal as possible only there for the plot to do with the jerk), non consensual bite, blood, kidnapping, adult language, death, Fluff, angst(?), intimacy (near the end), PiV, CONSENSUAL blood drinking, finger stuff. If I have missed anything let me know.

18+ Minors DNI - Mild disclaimer I am not a great writer, but great at day dreaming, so I hope it all makes sense and you can enjoy my current day dream:

Summary:

You have leased the top floor of the Elfsong Tavern, and it is the first night of your stay. Retiring to your bed for the evening after a long day of chasing leads to find the murderer causing chaos around Baldur’s Gate, you and your companions are woken up during the night surrounded by Cazador’s Spawns attempting to retrieve Astarion. In that moment, you decide to do everything in your power to keep him safe, even if it means sacrificing yourself to buy him time. What comes next is something you could have never foreseen.

Tav:

“Just our luck, right? All we wanted was a place to stay, and lo and behold, we find the single inn that has had a murder take place in it. And, of course, we start investigating it straight away," Astarion says, practically steaming with annoyance as he helps you remove your boots. You watch him attentively. You love the way his lip curls and his nose scrunches when he is particularly annoyed at something. He looks up at you through his lashes, his crimson eyes looking confused as to why he’s caught you staring at him with a very goofy smile plastered upon your face.

"What?" he says, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing, I just think you’re adorable when you get annoyed," you say as you lean down and kiss his forehead softly.

"Adorable? Adorable?? Excuse me, but I am exactly the kind of person your parents warn you about when they tell you not to explore at nighttime. Thank you very much." His expression is mischievous and playful as he rises, pinning you to the bed.

"Can the two of you PLEASE just behave for ONE night?? You’ll have your private quarters from tomorrow, so behave for the sake of all of us. Please," Gale says exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb.

You and Astarion share a knowing look and burst into laughter as he loosens his grip on you. Your companions have graciously offered you the private room after the cleanup of the murder scene and changing of bedsheets takes place. They deserve some respite after enduring the sounds from your tent throughout this journey. Despite taking a break from your intimate explorations, you and Astarion find yourselves acting like infatuated teenagers, constantly joking and teasing each other. It must be exhausting for others to be around your lighthearted antics all the time.

Yenna, the child you found on your journey, has a remarkable talent for creating various soups, and you are delighted to see that she has taken the initiative to prepare dinner for you and your companions tonight. After savouring the soup and engaging in lighthearted banter, everyone retires to their assigned beds. Surprisingly, Astarion decides to join you in the small bed, refusing to sleep separately even for just one evening. After making sure the others had fallen asleep you silently offer him your neck for his nightly feed before bed.

It doesn’t take long for sleep to find you, nor does it take long for your rest to be interrupted.

“Get the hells away from me!” Astarion’s voice is angry but panicked. You shoot upright and immediately see two other vampire spawns circling him. One female and one male.

“Peace brother, we are here to take you home.” The female speaks calmly

The male continues; “The Master needs all seven of us for the ceremony. Come with us and be reborn. We’ll live again.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of what the Master needs. But don’t we deserve better? After all these centuries of torment, I know what you all want, more than power, more than to walk in the sun. You want to see him dead. The right of profane ascension will be mine and he won’t see a scrap of its glory. I am going to complete the ritual as the ascendant and then I AM GOING TO KILL HIM. This is your chance, stand with me, name me your new master, we will get our revenge and you will all live again.” Astarion is confident, you know he is lying to them, you steal a glance his way with hurt in your eyes. Does he wish to be the ascendant this much?

Before you can stop yourself you turn to your lover and plead “Have you no heart Astarion? You’re asking them to die for you in this ritual”

“Don’t look at me like that, with the sweet little disappointed ‘I’m not getting cuddly Astarion’ pout. I can’t take it, I can’t be what you want to see in me.” His eyes lock with yours and you see a glimpse of it. Fear. The fear of never being safe and the desperation that this is his only chance of never having to be afraid again.

“You’re lying! Quick grab him!” The female one yells as two other spawns blink into the room joining them.

The rest of your camp is now awake and begins to spring into action. It’s not long before the first drop of blood is spilled, as Karlach lunges toward one of the spawn, slicing an opening clear across their chest, they topple back and disappear before the killing blow lands. You break into a sprint to the other side of the room as poor Yenna is being picked up by one of them. Luckily Gale shoots a firebolt cantrip their way and they release their hold on the child.

Suddenly out of the corner of your eye, you see the two spawn from earlier still circling Astarion and your world slows down. The male leaps forward with his hand outstretched, you know it’s to take Astarion and he knows it too. His eyes lock with yours practically seeping with fear and you scream an incantation of misty step placing yourself between them just in time, knocking Astarion back. The hand grabs you and you are transported in a cloud of red ash out of the Elfsong Tavern and land in a dark, cold cell.

Gazing at the floor you see a pair of expensive loafers appear in front of you, slowly you raise your head. Standing before you is what seems to be an elf at first glance well dressed with blood-red eyes, pale skin and long black hair slicked back out of his face. Your gaze darts around the room as you see the spawns all kneeling around him.

“Cazador.” You spit out the word, your face repulsed as if the name itself tasted vile on your tongue.

He leans down and takes your chin in his hand, moving your face towards the left, exposing your neck and the two puncture wounds that are still fresh from the evenings’ feedings.

"My, my, it seems my most favoured spawn has been busy…" He says amusement dancing in his eyes. “My spawn may not have brought him back but you… I have big plans for you. You pretty little thing.”

___________

Astarion:

You look across the room, searching for her. You know you are about to be taken, so you need to have one last look at her. You find her, and your eyes lock together. She knows it too; you can see it all over her face. Then the unthinkable happens.

You hear her scream the incantation. You see her appear in front of you as she knocks you back. Before you could blink, before you could get up, she was gone. They’ve taken her. And your world comes crashing down.

“TAV! NO. NO. No no no no no. This is NOT happening.” You are frantic, you cannot control the fear that has taken over. Your body shakes your breathing becomes shallow, your mouth dry. “We need to go. NOW. We need to get her.” Your companions are all standing there in shock as they watch you crumble. Karlach walks up to you gripping your shoulders and gives you a few shakes.

“Astarion, calm down. This is not going to help get her back. You need to breathe," Karlach pulls you in, squeezing you until you listen to her words. She's right, Tav needs you to be strong. She needs you to collect yourself. You need a plan, but it needs to be a good plan. You cannot afford to make one wrong step.

“We need to make a plan. I don’t know where he will be holding her, get me some paper, ink and a quill. I will draw out the layout of the palace and we will discuss options. Shadowheart, make sure we are stocked on healing potions and count the Revivify scrolls. Gale you need to learn the daylight spell, it is imperative, I know Shadowheart knows this spell but we cannot afford for only one person to know this. Karlach, gather the soul coins. We have to utilise everything we have.” You try to sound confident but the quiver in your voice betrays you. Everyone glances around briefly before attending to their allocated tasks.

I am coming for you, little love. Be strong for me just for tonight, I will not let him have you. You make a silent promise to her, to yourself.

__________

Tav:

“Fuck you.” Your words are laced with venom as you spit on his shoes. His hand comes soaring down across your other cheek and a familiar metallic taste settles in your mouth.

“Did Astarion not teach you what happens to those who do not obey me? Did he not tell you that mercy is not a word that lives in my vocabulary?” He lifts you by your neck and you feel your feet dangle off the floor.

Between your gasps for air, your voice is cold. “Get his name… out… of your… dirty… fucking mouth.” You spit what’s left of the blood and saliva in your mouth right on his disgusting face. A small improvement you think to yourself.

“I’ve had enough of this.” He hisses. “You will both learn. You see, I know my spawn better than they know themselves. He doesn’t love you! He is using you! You offer him protection, look how far you’ve pushed yourself just to protect him! And where is he? Do you hear him beating the door down? He knows where you are and yet, he’s not here.” Cazador spins around in a circle with arms spread open and a laugh escapes his mouth. “Stupid girl. You are but another number added to his list of fools.”

“You know nothing of him.” Your voice sounds so hoarse, so small. Astarion would never play you like this. You know him. The real him.

“Oh? I don’t? Why don’t we make a little wager then?” Amusement dances in his eyes. “Here is what is going to happen. I’m going to turn you into a spawn, just like him. I will return you to him once most of the change is complete and I can promise you my dear he will hate you the way he hates himself. Then when he realises that the game is done, he will hand himself over.” He places you down back on your feet, still gripping your neck tightly. Your body turns ice cold, your skin clammy as his crimson eyes bore into yours. He turns your head once again exposing your flesh. You feel a sharp excruciating pain pierce your neck, nothing like the ones you have shared with Astarion. It is at this moment you know that your time is up.

You feel yourself slipping away, tears spilling down your cheeks you close your eyes and hold your lover’s face in your mind, the face he makes after each kiss, the way his smile curls up when he’s being mischievous… how peaceful he looks when he rests next to you.

I love you Astarion. I am so sorry I couldn’t protect you, I failed you. The whisper in your mind dissipates as you can feel yourself leaving consciousness.

Something opens your mouth, you feel a single drop of warmth splash onto your tongue and everything goes black.

Your eyes snap open as you feel an intense burning sensation in your throat, you bring your hands up clutching at the base of your neck. You feel an immense pain and heaviness in your mouth, running your tongue over your teeth you feel something sharp scrape along the tastebuds. No. Your eyes dart around the cold cell and you spot a mirror in the corner. You rush towards it and raise it to your face only to find nothing. Nothing. No. No no no no. “No.” A small sob escapes your lips.

“There she is. Well my pet, you may just be my most beautiful spawn. Look at you… death becomes you, my dear.” Cazador is leaning against the wall outside the cell, a devilish smile runs across his face. “You are beautiful. If I am correct and he tosses you aside I may just keep you to myself. How does consort sound? Hmmm? No? Pity.” Words elude you, and a response will not come out from your mouth, not because of him, you still have the tadpole, but the words simply don’t form because you are in shock.

“Feed her a rat and then take her to him. He will surrender himself shortly after, I will win this little wager we have placed. I always do.” He turns to you again another smile spreading over his face “I’ll be seeing you again soon my dear, my most beautiful spawn.”

A smaller female spawn enters the cell, holds you down and pours a small helping of blood from a rodent down your throat. She then places her hand on your arm and once again you are teleported in a smoke of red ash back into the upper floor of the Elfsong tavern.

______________________

Astarion:

You look around the room, every single person in here is moving with purpose as fast as they can sorting out the final details, and gathering the supplies. Not one person has slept since her disappearance it has almost been a full 24 hours since she was taken but you promised yourself you would not wait a moment longer than that to finalise your plan. You knew he would use it as a trap to lure you to him and that’s exactly what you intended to do, just with reinforcements.

“ASTARION!” Shadowheart screams out to you from the doorway leading into the room. Your body is on full alert as you sprint towards her, she is on the floor holding something, no, someone. That’s when you see her, laying on the floor curled up, shaking and sobbing. You move quickly to her side and glance at Shadowheart, you see something in her eyes, sadness, rage and disbelief.

“What? Shadowheart. What? What is it?” You break your stare and glance down at your lover placing your hand under her chin. Something doesn’t feel right, gently you lift her to a seated position on the floor and as she turns to you you are met with crimson eyes.

“No.” You breathe out. “No… not you.” A crowd has gathered around you, their voices are muffled panicked noises in the background. You collect her in your arms and walk to your private quarters, close the doors and gently lay her down on the bed. She begins to sob uncontrollably as you scoop her up into your arms, crying with her. You have failed her and now she will never forgive you for not coming sooner.

“I’m… I’m so sorry Astarion. I… I couldn’t stop him. And now… now you won’t have me. He… he told me this would happen. He told me he would take me as his consort because once you saw me as a spawn you wouldn’t want me.” She sobs into your chest barely getting the words out. You stiffen after the confession is out. His consort? HIS? She had only been with him for 24 hours and he successfully derailed her mind, twisting her thoughts. You knew he was capable of this but still, it shook you to your core nonetheless. The way he gets into the minds of others and manipulates their thoughts. You are going to kill him, slowly and painfully for this. You swear it to yourself, to her.

“You will never be his.” Your words hiss out like venom. “You are mine. This changes nothing.” You bring her face up to yours looking deeply into her eyes as you plant a soft kiss on her lips, she lets out a small whimper that breaks you to pieces.

______________________

Tav:

"This changes nothing." Gods you want to believe him, you really do. It’s been two days now since you’ve been back, and you have mostly stayed in your private quarters lost deep in thought replaying the events from the palace. Astarion hasn’t left your side once, always holding you, placing soft kisses on your forehead and whispering soft “I love you’s” and apologies into your ear.

“Little love, look at me. Please… please.” His voice is soft and tender. You regain focus on the feel of his hand cupping your face, you only now notice it doesn’t feel cold anymore, instead it feels warm and soft.

“Your hand… it feels, warm. Why?” You whisper into his palm.

“Our bodies run at the same temperature, I will feel normal to you now.” He brings his face to yours and presses his forehead to yours inhaling deeply.

“Are you… sure… you still want me?” Your voice is small, unstable and your body shakes with anxiety while you wait for his response. You feel him tense slightly and then relax as he pulls away to look into your eyes.

“You once told me that being a spawn doesn’t define who I am. That Cazador may have turned me but I am still me inside. That he has no control of that.” He grazes his lips slowly across yours. “You are still who you are. You are still my world, my life. Your appearance may have changed slightly but it would have also changed as you aged and I would have grown to love those changes. I love you the same now, the only difference is that I get to love you forever instead of having to go through the pain of outliving you.” He kisses you deeply and you feel the love behind his kiss, you were a fool to ever doubt his love in the first place. You were right, you knew him better than Cazador.

“Astarion?” You ask quietly, “Does this mean I can no longer help you feed?” Your voice breaks a little bit near the end of your question. The act of him feeding on you has become something extremely special for you and it hurts to think that you may never get to do this for him ever again.

“You have been taken… Turned into a vampire spawn and your main concern is that you won’t be able to feed me?” His face lightens and a soft chuckle escapes his lips. “Darling, we need to talk about your priorities. But if you must know, we can still share this, the only significant difference is that you will now be able to feed off me. Should you wish to do so.”

“But, blood flow? How does that work?” You ask puzzled.

Astarion raises an eyebrow and a flash of mischief runs across his face. “Umm well my sweet, I’m sure you of all people will know that blood flow is still very much a thing for us. If you know what I mean.” You feel your cheeks flush as the realisation hits you.

“Oh. Right.” That is all you can say to that.

The light moment is replaced with heaviness once more as the two of you lay beside each other, scanning one another’s faces.

“I’m sorry Tav, I should have come straight away to save you. I thought… I thought we needed a plan, something solid to get in and get you out as fast as possible. I failed you and I am sorry…” He pauses for a moment and continues “Why did you do it? Why did you come between us when they tried to take me?” His voice was barely above a whisper now.

“I love you. That’s why and I would do it all over again if it meant I kept you out of his grasp.” You lift your hand and run it behind his head, lacing your fingers into his silky curls. He leans in moving his body closer and brings his lips to yours. It starts slow and tender, but the pace quickens with the realisation that this could have ended differently. His kisses become sloppy and urgent as his tongue enters your mouth. You suddenly taste something metallic and a growl escapes your mouth, a hunger springs to life within you and you push him away flinging yourself back off the bed. “It’s okay my love. I can help, just, give me two minutes, stay there do not move. You’re hungry, you haven’t fed these past couple of days. I have a jar that I had kept for myself. I will be right back, I promise.” He quickly exits the room and re-enters not even 40 seconds later.

“Come here, drink this.” He sits you on the bed and hands the jar over. You open the lid and the smell hits your nose, your mouth starts to salivate as you bring it to your lips and take your first gulp. Your hunger instantly eases the moment you go for your third mouthful.

“Drink it all.” He says while he holds your hand. You listen and drink your fill and place the empty jar on the side table. “Do you feel better now?” He asks as he strokes your cheek.

“Much, thank you.” You offer a small smile to him.

“Good, because I believe we were interrupted. Where were we?” He asks as he slowly guides you back down onto the bed. His lips crashing into yours parting them instantly as he cautiously moves his tongue against yours. A soft grown escapes his lips, his hands roam up your body tangling up into your hair as he grinds against you.

“Astarion, stop - we don’t need to do this.” You say between kisses. “I told you we can wait when you’re ready.”

“Tonight my love I’m making an exception.” He says as he kisses you again his hands running down your frame and he lifts your shirt off with ease. He trails soft kisses up your torso over your bare breasts and pauses at your neck. You know he is looking at the fresh wounds.

“I’m going to kill him.” He hisses. “I’m going to kill him slowly. I will make him beg for mercy.”

“I want to be there when it happens.” You whisper. “Astarion? You can say no… but I don’t want his marks to be the last on me. Please… please replace them.”

“Darling, you need not ask. I was already thinking just that.” He slowly leans down and places a soft kiss on your neck before sinking his teeth in. His free hand slithers down your body, slips under your panties and starts running circles around your swollen bundle of nerves. You let out a soft moan and his paces quickens. The first wave of pleasure rolls through you fast and unforgiving as he releases his mouth from your neck placing another soft kiss onto the bite.

His gaze meets yours and a flicker of that mischief you love so much makes an appearance.

“Your turn now, little love. Replace my marks. Please.” He whispers his breath hot in your ear.

“…How? How do I do it?” You ask breathlessly.

“Listen to your body, go slowly and let… instinct guide you.” He rolls underneath you and turns his head to the side.

Slowly you mimic his previous movements, you think about all the times he’s fed on you and you focus on every single step. As you lower your mouth to his neck you plant a small soft kiss on the healed wounds, you open your mouth and slowly sink in. You feel a small amount of pressure on your fangs and then they sink deeper. The blood in the jar is nothing compared to his. You take slow, long pulls into your mouth, enjoying the way he moans and sighs in pleasure. You can feel him harden underneath you and you grind against his length. After two pulls you release him from your mouth and you hear a small moan of disappointment.

“My sweet, I was rather enjoying that, do it again.” He says while he removes his pants letting his length spring free. He then makes quick work of tearing off your underclothes and gently brings your head back down to his neck.

You sink back in but as you make your first pull he has moved underneath you making sure his hard length enters you, stretching you out deliciously. You growl against his neck as he starts thrusting upwards into your sex.

“Gods…” He breathes out as the thrusting quickens his hand finds your clit again and starts rubbing furious circles around the sensitive bud. You start to pull back but his other hand comes down holding you into place. “Drink.” He orders and you obey. “Fuck. Good girl. I’m.. I’m close.” His words send you into a frenzy as you match his thrusts with your grinding and it doesn’t take long before he cries your name as his hips start bucking in ecstasy.

“I love you. I will always, always love you.” He moans into your ear as you come crashing into another wave of pleasure. This time he allows you to let go of his neck and you fall beside him on the bed. The two of you slick with sweat while you hold each other.

“He really thought, that I wouldn’t love you anymore? Hasn’t he realised that he has unintentionally given me the greatest gift of being able to love you eternally.” He speaks the words into your hair while holding you close.

“Forever?” You whisper.

“Forever.” He says and places a kiss on your forehead. “But first, let’s go kill the bastard.”

____

Part two here

[quin-ns]

Invisible String (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 3K

Summary: bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower

Tags: 2007 (as seen in ep3), age gap, protective!joel, jealousy, tess isn’t painted in a bad light but she gets her feelings hurt a lil, angst, joel being emotionally suppressed, everyone hiding their emotions actually no one copes normally, emotional hurt/comfort, hugs, pining!joel, hugs, fluff

Request: anon: “hello! i am totally obsessed with your work! i was womdering, if you still take requests, if you can write a joel x reader fic where the reader has a tough exterior with everyone, including Joel, but he knows how sensitive and delicate she is on the inside and behind closed doors. picture this for reference: she had warm water at bill and frank's and she started sobbing uncontrollably, but in front of joel she will always deny she doesn't feel depressed and emotional, but he knows better that this and they both help each other to open up.”

Request: anon: “loved your first joel fic!! if you’re okay with requests can you do another joel fic where maybe tess is jealous of how joel softens around the reader? like he’s not really an affectionate guy but with her he is and tess realizes how he feels about the reader? maybe they’re at frank and bills house and she knows joel doesn’t want to stay but for the reader he will? or something like that it’s up to you- you’re the writer after all”

A/N: so since both of these requests included joel being soft for the reader and them being at bill and franks, I decided to combine them. I liked both concepts and I thought mixing them would lead to something interesting. I feel like there’s more to this story so if y’all want a part two lmk

Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist

When you, Joel, and Tess first met Bill and Frank, none of you had any idea how you’d end up feeling about the two men.

Frank had allowed the three of you to enter their isolated town and introduced them both (okay, nice enough), and then Bill had pointed a gun at you (not so nice). Why you? No particular reason other than that you were his closest target. From that moment Joel wasn’t a fan.

“If you’re gonna point that thing at someone, point it at me. Not at her,” Joel said sternly, his hardened gaze fixed on Bill. The two stared one another down for a moment as Bill quickly identified Joel’s weakness. Tess looked at Joel, working hard to hide the frustration on her face.

He obliged, turning the gun onto Joel.

“Bill,” Frank said softly yet firmly.

Bill glanced at Frank, who was silently asking him to relent. Bill lowered the gun with a huff.

With the hostility out of the way, or at least set aside for the moment, Frank offered you an apologetic smile.

“Would you like to see our home?” he asked as a peace offering.

“We’d love to,” Tess answered at the same time as Joel, who said—

“We actually should be going.”

You didn’t say anything, which caused them both to look at you. Tie breaker.

Tess had a feeling you’d agree with her, but what happened next still bothered her.

You and Joel exchanged a look, having a silent conversation. Joel registered that despite the gun incident, you weren’t fearful. It was only because of that that Joel looked at Frank and nodded.

“Alright,” he changed his answer.

Tess wanted to scream.

Frank seemed relieved and his smile grew. He led the three of you to the large white house that the two men called their home.

“You’re welcome to anything in the house,” Frank said kindly, ignoring the disapproving grunt that came from Bill. “Clothes, medicine, water, food—although Bill will be starting dinner soon—and of course the shower,” he listed off.

Your ears perked up at “shower.” Joel could tell by the way you actually lifted your head. Just a day ago you had been reminiscing on how long it had been since you felt clean. Like, really clean. Hot water, soap, soft towel—you longed for it and Joel knew that.

Frank noticed too. “Shower it is.”

“Thank you,” you said immediately. “For being so kind and sharing your home with us.”

“If I’m being honest, I’ve been bugging Bill for us to find some friends,” Frank admitted to you quietly. “Speaking of which,” he started. “Bill? Maybe you could get our other guests some drinks? I’m going to show—“ he looked back at you.

“Y/N,” you filled in.

“—Y/N to the shower,” Frank finished.

You didn’t hear what Bill had to say, but that was the least of your concern as Frank gestured for you to follow him.

Joel watched as you followed Frank away. He itched to go after you, not comfortable with you being apart from him. He felt incredibly protective over you and maybe it wasn’t the healthiest reaction, but he didn’t like to let you out of his sight. It scared him—not that he’d ever admit it.

“Don’t worry, I think she’ll survive without you,” Tess said sarcastically, smothering the genuine bitterness she felt at the man’s reaction. Joel was never like this before. Well, before you.

Joel threw her a glance, but didn’t say anything. Bill was approaching them and grumpily suggested they follow him into the kitchen.

They all made casual conversation, Tess doing most of the talking.

Upstairs, Frank was showing you to the shower. He’d given you a towel and found you soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

“Thank you so much,” you said yet again. Frank just laughed it off and told you no worries, and that if you needed anything you could just call for him.

You closed the door, isolating yourself in the bathroom. You turned on the water and held your hand under it until it was warm. A smile spread across your face. You quickly stripped and stepped under the water, longing for the feel of a hot shower.

It was everything you had hoped for. You relished in the hot water rushing over your tired body.

You prided yourself on being tough—like not even flinching when Bill pulled his gun on you—but something about the comfort that reminded you of the old world brought tears to your eyes. Their house was so normal. Nothing like the wilderness, the destroyed towns, or even the QZ. You were only a child when the pandemic happened, but you held onto a few fond memories. You never felt at home in the QZ.

The only thing that made it feel comfortable and safe was Joel, but this was still so much better than the QZ. It was overwhelming.

Next thing you knew, a sob of happiness broke free. And once it started you couldn’t stop.

In the kitchen, Bill was standing at the stove cooking. Joel didn’t know what it was—but it smelled delicious. Frank had excused himself to set up a table outside so everyone could eat together in the nice weather.

“Sorry, by the way,” Bill announced, off topic from the previous discussion. He didn’t look up from his task of sautéing onions as he spoke. “For the uh, gun thing. Can’t be too careful.”

Tess and Joel looked at one another. They both suspected Frank must’ve said something to convince him to apologize. But beyond that, they both thought back to the incident. A flash of anger shot through Joel at the memory of the weapon being targeted at you. Tess remembered how reckless Joel had been, asking Bill to turn the gun on him. Would he really trade his life for yours? Once Tess started thinking about that, she couldn’t stop.

She started to become quiet during the conversation, which was pretty much when the talking fizzled out. Joel wasn’t very talkative, and clearly neither was Bill.

“I’m gonna go see if Frank needs help,” Bill decided after a few minutes. Joel and Tess exchanged a look. Obviously he just wanted away from them for a moment of relief—he wasn’t anticipating having to be social and wasn’t too happy with it.

Once they had a moment alone, Joel had a feeling Tess was going to unleash. It had been building up, Joel could tell her mood had turned sour.

“What was that?” she asked vaguely. Joel furrowed his brows. “Earlier,” she clarified.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joel stated. He had an inclination, but he was hoping Tess would drop it.

She didn’t. “You asked him to point a gun at you!” Tess said in a hushed yell, frustration seeping out in her scolding tone.

“He wasn’t going to shoot me,” Joel deadpanned.

“He wasn’t going to shoot at all,” Tess confirmed. “So then why did you tell him to turn it on you?”

She was pushing for an answer she didn’t want, but now that she had started Tess wasn’t going to let up. She was stubborn like that.

“I didn’t like him pointing a gun at Y/N,” Joel admitted. The memory of it made him clench his fist. Tess didn’t see that, but she saw the way Joel wouldn’t hold her gaze.

Her jaw clenched. “You’re too soft on her.”

At that, Joel scoffed. The sound came out before he could stop it. “How is that being too soft on her?”

Tess was quiet for a moment, contemplating her next words. “It’s not just that,” she said, quieter, almost distant. It was a contrast to how loud she’d been getting.

Joel took a deep breath through his nose, then let out a heavy sigh. He finally looked Tess dead in the eye. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

If it wasn’t for the desperate look on Tess’s face, he would’ve gotten up and walked away. She wasn’t done. She was struggling to say what she wanted to say, and Joel didn’t want her to.

“The moment she came into our lives, that was it,” Tess told herself just as much as she was saying it to Joel.

She was backing Joel into a corner. “Where is this coming from?” he questioned.

Tess let out a humorless laugh. “This has been a long time coming,” she confessed. “I see the way you look at her, how you act around her. She’s just about half your age and yet you always seem to find something in common. You cut me out, Joel.”

Joel was at a loss of words. He couldn’t seem to find the words to defend himself. Tess continued.

“We’ve been in that scenario before, do you remember? When you and I were making a trade and the punk pointed a gun at me?” Tess recalled. Joel recovered the memory quickly, and he began to zero in on exactly why this meant so much to Tess. “You never would’ve considered trading yourself for me. I know because you didn’t.”

“That was different,” was all Joel could come up with.

“I never would’ve made you choose between me and her, but you did on your own,” Tess held firm. Her jaw clenched as she fought to not let herself get any more emotional. “And you chose her. I see that now.”

“Tess,” Joel started, but she shook her head.

“Don’t try to lie to me. Please.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Joel said. He wasn’t even sure what he was planning on saying before. This had all come out of nowhere. At least for him, Tess had clearly had this on her mind for a long while and today just happened to be the final straw. “I’m sorry,” he decided, but it was too little too late.

Tess liked you. She really did. And you hadn’t done anything on purpose. You probably didn’t even know the effect you had on Joel. That’s what made being jealous of you so hard. She wanted to not like you, to blame you for stealing any ounce of affection Joel allowed himself to have, but she couldn’t.

She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go check and see if they need any help setting up outside.” The sudden calmness was eerie. Joel looked at her cautiously. “We’re going to just… drop this,” Tess decided. “And we can all try and have a nice time together, eat a real meal, take hot showers, and relax for the night before we head out in the morning.”

Suppression. Tess was going to bottle everything up. Ignore it and move on. It was something her and Joel had in common.

She left him then, and Joel felt no desire to go after her. He felt guilty about that, but he had nothing left to say to Tess about that and she’d concluded her piece.

Instead, Joel found himself leaving the kitchen table. He followed the sound of running water upstairs. You’d been in the shower for a while and there was a nagging feeling in Joel’s chest that longed to find you.

His feet carried him to the bathroom door, where he knew you still were.

Joel heard a sad, gasping sound from you. It was nearly drowned out, but he heard it. Concern overwhelmed him in an instant.

Joel pressed his ear to the door. He almost busted in, but wanted to take a moment. And it was good he did. What he had first thought were sounds of distress, was actually you muffling cries of relief. He could tell. He wasn’t sure how—maybe it was the tone, or the softness to the sounds, or he just knew you too well—but he could tell.

His hand reached for the doorknob. Joel grasped it and contemplated turning it. He leaned the side of his head against the door.

“Y/N?” Joel called through the door. He went blank over what else to say. Should he ask if you were alright? Would you be weirded out if he asked to come in? You were showering after all. Instead he said nothing.

You went silent. Joel felt bad now. You were never emotional around anyone, you tried to hide it from him. Joel wished you wouldn’t. But he supposed you were just following by example.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Um,” Joel stalled. “I was just checking on you.”

“Oh, um, I'm alright,” you replied. A few seconds of quiet passed. “Thank you, though.”

Joel listened to the sound of water rushing from the shower. You’d stopped your tears it seemed, but Joel could hear the quiver in your voice when you’d spoken.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Joel told you carefully.

“I’m fine, Joel,” you assured.

When Joel first met you, you were innocent despite the dark world and wore your heart on your sleeve. You used to express yourself emotionally, but now Joel couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you let yourself break.

You’d gotten better about hiding it. He wanted to help you open up, but that was something even he struggled to do.

Joel went down the stairs and to the living room. No one else was in the house, he could see out the window that Frank was showing Tess around their garden while Bill was setting up the food.

Joel sat on the couch and thought over your interaction through the door. He wished he would have waited for you to come out of the bathroom to talk to you, to make sure you were okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Because then he’d have to explain himself as to why and after the conversation with Tess, he feared how you’d react to the knowledge of his feelings.

As if on cue, there were light steps descending down the stairs. Joel turned to look at you.

Your hair was damp, and you were wearing an oversized clean shirt that must’ve come from one of the hosts (Frank was the nicer one, so Joel guessed it was him who lent you it) and a pair of jeans that you’d packed that you hadn’t worn yet.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey,” Joel said, watching you as you moved over to him. “Everyone else is outside.”

“I see that,” you said lightly. “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Joel asked.

You shrugged. “I thought I heard arguing earlier. You and Tess,” you explained. “Bathroom is right above the kitchen…”

A brief moment of unease filled Joel. “What all did you hear?”

“No words clearly, just Tess raising her voice,” you revealed. Joel just gave you a slight nod. He had a feeling that wasn’t the only thing you had to say. “Did you, um… hear me earlier?”

Joel knew instantly what you meant. “No.” He hated lying to you. “Yes.”

“I thought so. I just”—you searched for your words—“I’m fine. That was just—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

You swallowed and took a breath. “I’m not weak.”

Joel let out a small huff. “I know that.” That fact that you thought you had to tell him was amusing in an odd way. He was well aware.

“Well, alright then,” you said decidedly. “It’s just been so long since we’ve had hot water and—“

“You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re allowed to feel,” Joel reminded. “I know you. You’re strong. But you’re also a good, sweet, caring person and I just”—Joel sighed, struggling for his words even as they were tumbling out—“I don’t want to see you go numb to the world. I don’t want you to end up like me.”

You looked at him curiously. He stood for some reason, it felt more natural for him. Your eyes held his on his way up. “You’re not numb, Joel,” you told him, sounding so sure of yourself. “I don’t think that. I think you put on a brave face just like I do. Although I guess I’m not as good at hiding it as I thought.”

A small laugh left you as you shook your head.

“What?”

“It’s just been so long since I talked about… feelings,” you admitted.

“Same here,” Joel agreed.

“It’s weird, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be, but it is.”

Joel got an idea. He hoped it wasn’t a bad one. “Maybe we can… help each other with that. Y’know, find a way to talk about it.”

You gave him a gentle smile. Before Joel could process, you were wrapping your arms around him and clinging to him in a hug. It was a sudden, unfamiliar movement. Joel held you against his body, resting his chin on your head.

“That’s a good idea,” you told him, your voice muffled against him.

Joel hadn’t touched, let alone held, someone in so long. It was nice. Mostly because it was you.

The sound of a door opening and heavy steps alerted you, causing you and Joel to part from one another. Frank approached the two of you with a welcoming smile on his face.

“Dinners ready,” he informed, looking between the both of you.

“Seriously, we cannot thank you enough, Frank,” you said kindly. He gestured towards the door in an “after you” manner. You gave him a smile and headed outside. Before you stepped out, you gave Joel one last grateful look.

There was a slight smile on Frank’s face as he looked at Joel, who hadn’t moved yet.

“It’s nice to have someone in a world like this, isn’t it?” Frank asked in a sincere tone.

Joel looked out the window towards the garden where you joined the table. You smiled at the sight of the food and took a seat.

After having a whole conversation about allowing feelings, Joel decided that he didn’t want to suppress the small smile of appreciation that crossed his own face.

“Yeah, it is,” Joel answered.

starting a joel taglist, if you’d like to be on it lmk through an ask or message!

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose

[khruschevshoe]

How Behind-the Scenes Issues Affected the Writing of Doctor Who (Both Good and Bad)

Doctor Who is such a fascinating show to look at from a Watsonian v. Doylist perspective. Like, entirely just from an episode writing point of view:

Twice Upon A Time feels so slow and meandering and even boring in places because Chris Chibnall didn't want to start his run as showrunner and Steven Moffat didn't want the show to lose the coveted Christmas timeslot (ironic, I know) so he bumped the Twelfth Doctor's regeneration from the end of The Doctor Falls (where it makes sense) to the end of the Christmas special

Boom Town (my beloved) only exists because originally there was going to be an episode in its spot explaining that Rose had been molded to be the Doctor's perfect companion (by the Doctor, gross) and the writer didn't have the time to commit to the show

The ending of Last Christmas feels like one inside-a-dream too many because originally Jenna Coleman was questioning whether she was going to leave the show or not and the ending was rewritten after the first readthrough when she decided she wanted to stay for another season

The first five episodes of Season 7 feel like each one takes place in a different genre because that's literally how Steven Moffat pitched it to the writers; for example, A Town Called Mercy was literally pitched as "Doctor Who does a Western"

Not so much a weird one but one I find cool: Eleven's first words and Thirteen's first words were literally written by Moffat and Chibnall respectively, as they were brought in to write the first words of the first Doctors of their runs so as to make it cohesive

The reason why Fourteen isn't wearing Thirteen's clothes when he regenerates is because Jodie Whittaker is much shorter than David Tennant and Russell T. Davies didn't want it to look like he was making fun of the genderfluidity of the Doctor (still think he made the wrong decision, but eh)

Wilfred Mott isn't in the Runaway Bride and Donna's father isn't in Partners in Crime because the actor who played Donna's father, Howard Attfield, died after filming several scenes for Partners In Crime, leading to the character of "Stan Mott" from Voyage of the Damned being written into Partners In Crime as Donna's grandfather

Astrid Peth doesn't die in the original drafts of Voyage of the Damned, but Russell T. Davies wrote what is generally considered one of the most emotional deaths in Doctor Who just because he wanted Kylie Minogue to be able to focus on her music career

Originally Oxygen was written as a prequel to Mummy on the Orient Express, where a corporate representative appeared on a monitor. Said representative was fired for his fumbling of the station and would later live on as the company computer, Gus

During Season 11, Chris Chibnall had to do some major rewrites for many of the one-off episodes, therefore The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos ended up being a first draft that made it to screen. He later admitted it was his least favorite episode of the series

And this is only a fraction of what I found in terms of major behind-the-scenes writing reasons. Though I am still totally willing to critique the product that made it to our screens, finding out the reasons behind some of the more badly written episodes of the show really made me feel sympathy for every showrunner of the show as well as appreciate a lot of the good episodes that ended up here despite the short production schedule/unexpected problems (once again, Boom Town my beloved AND everyone's favorite companion Wilfred Mott only exist because of unforseen problems). Absolutely bonkers, isn't it?

[artificial-transmutations]

Going Green

"Microtransactions!"

Charles looked around the board members.

"Micro. Transactions. Have you ever heard of that? Anyone?"

Slowly, heads nodded.

"Oh, good! So, you *have* heard of them. Does anyone care to explain to me then why our games barely have any? In fact, I have yet to see *any* microtransaction revenue from our latest release."

"But Sir, 'Orcs and Morcs' is a single player game - and not for a mobile platform, too. It doesn't even have an online connection. It would be highly unusual."

Charles M. Anderson cut the engineer up with a gesture. He didn't even know the other man's name, which wasn't too unusual. Even though he was the CEO of GreenGames for six months now, he didn't bother to learn his subordinates names until they proved useful. And this unnamed engineer could be happy if he still had a job after this meeting.

"I don't care about your techno-babble. Microtransactions is where the money is, so I want them in our products. *All* our products. And make sure to make them mandatory for any progress, too."

Charles usually talked about "Releases" and "Products". To him, video games were just a product like any other. Of course *he* didn't play any of those silly games, games were for children and losers. He only cared for the numbers, the graphs and revenues.

"What about the backlash? I mean, I understand that you want to generate more revenue, but GreenGames is known for providing high quality games that *don't* try to rip their customers off."

"So?"

"So, this could be bad publicity for us. Really bad."

Charles looked around the table and noticed most of the other board members nodding.

"Listen up, everyone. I think there is some misunderstanding here. You think that I care about our customers. I really don't, as long as they continue to buy our products. There is no such thing as bad publicity. So, I don't tell you how to draw your silly ogres and you don't try to meddle in the business aspect of the company, okay?"

Even though the inflection suggested a question, it was perfectly clear that it was neither a question nor a request. Again, heads nodded and tried to avoid eye contact. Good. Respect was very important for a leader.

One woman spoke up. Charles suspected her to be some lead writer or something.

"It's orcs, Sir."

Charles blinked. "What are you trying to say?"

"You said ogres, but our games are about orcs. That is our thing, we make games about orcs."

"There is no difference between orcs, ogres, unicorns and all that whimsy stuff. Leave me alone with your fantasy crap."

"But there is another thing. You are responsible for the story of our products?"

The woman agreed with a careful: "Yes, Sir?"

Charles looked her straight in the eye. "It has come to my attention that there are certain woke elements in our products. As a story writer, I expect you to take care of that."

"What... do you mean by woke? And by taking care of that?"

Charles sighed. Why was everyone so incompetent?

"Apparently, there is same-sex smut in our products, some even have pronouns. That crap needs to disappear asap. It is 'go woke go broke', after all."

The writer woman looked at Charles incredulously. "But Sir! Same-Sex romances are a well-accepted part of the industry for *decades* now. And it's not like the player has to engage in that, too. It's just an option - an option we actually received much praise for in the past. And about the pronouns... It's just a setting that influences some dialogues on how the player character is referred to. Again, it is perfectly possible to play as a straight green cis male if that's what you want to do."

Charles shook his head, his voice now dangerously low. "One more word of that, miss, and you can start looking for a new job. 84% of our customer base is male, and male customers want to see boobs, that's a fact. I won't tolerate wasting company resources on pacifying some noisy minority and alienating our main audience."

"But sir!" the writer woman objected.

Charles' look silenced her.

"One more word and you're out. We'll find another writer. Someone who does the job and keeps their mouth shut. This meeting is over. I expect results end of next week."

Nobody dared to speak up when everybody left the meeting room, and Charles returned to his office. What a productive meeting.

Just as he turned to his computer to check today's KPIs, he noticed a new email.

From: Employee Council

To: Charles M. Anderson

Subject: Going Green

Body:

Dear Mr. Anderson,

we here at GreenGames would like to take the opportunity to point out some concerns about your leadership role.

We have noticed a disturbing development since your takeover and would like to remind you of the values we stand for at GreenGames. We like creating games, and we identify with the work we do. Our players are important to us, and we strife to be open and accessible for everyone. Just like the protagonists in our games, we have honor and use our strengths to better the world. You in particular should be the living embodiment of this ideal. Please take this chance to re-think your methods and decisions and "go green" for real.

Sincerely,

The Employee Council.

Charles was outraged. How dared those subordinates criticizing him? He reached for his phone, ready to phone his secretary to find out who this "Employee Council" was but was interrupted by a ripping sound.

The right arm of his expensive suit jacket had ripped at the shoulder, which was unusual. He would have to have a stern talk with the tailor. Charles stood up and took off his jacket - or at least, he tried to. It was like the piece of clothing was way too small all of a sudden. He finally managed to get out of it, but only with several more rips in the fabric. Charles loosened his tie. He was sweating like mad, and when he looked down on himself, he was in utter disarray. His shirt looked like it was several numbers too small and as he was watching, one button after the other flew off with an audible "pling", exposing his torso underneath.

But was it really his torso? Not only was it *bigger*, it also looked way *hairier*. Charles had never been a man with much body hair, but now, he looked down on a stomach that was showing visible abs covered with a dense treasure trail of dark hairs. They continued upwards where they met with a true forest of curly dark hair that covered the slabs of pecs that were still growing as Charles watched.

He had to loosen his tie again before taking it off entirely. All of his clothes felt constricting, so, he peeled himself out of his shirt, too. His expensive watch was interrupting his growth painfully, but Charles was too occupied to notice, let alone care. With a dull cracking noise, the leather strap broke, and the watch flew across the room, hitting the opposite wall.

As Charles continued to grow, the chair underneath him creaked, but, again, he had other things to worry about. His lower body was still covered by his dress pants and shoes, but that was getting tight, too. His shoes especially were getting painful, and it was a relief when the front broke, exposing large muscular feet and toes. His pants were filled to the brim with heavy, muscled legs now, but there was another region where the capacity had been reached. His groin formed an obscene bulge. That alone would have probably fit - barely - but it was accompanied by an unusual feeling. Charles didn't *mind* his extreme change. In fact, the hyper masculine body turned him on, even. He watched as a dick print became clearly visible outlined against his groin, as his cock grew hard. It pulsed, once, and Charles felt a spurt of precum soak into his boxer shorts. A wet patch became apparent as the liquid seeped through his pants - all from a single spurt. His dick pulsed again, and Charles' head began to swim. The air in the room was thick with sweat and testosterone by now, and Charles groaned from arousal. Man, what would he give for a nice firm manly ass right now, giving him a lap dance.

Wait, what? Manly ass?

But it was true! Every time, Charles tried to think about sexy girls, but all that came to mind were men. Burly, hairy men, twinkish shaved men, green-skinned ogre-man. No, not ogres, he corrected himself. Orcs.

As he thought this word, his dick pulsed again and made Charles almost cry out from arousal. He couldn't restrain himself anymore. He *ripped* apart his dress pants and lowered his boxer shorts that looked like a pair of briefs on his massive body now, releasing a gigantic stiff rod and a matching set of heavy balls - along with a whole cloud of manly, musky smell that made Charles even hornier than before.

He closed his gigantic hand around his shaft and moved it up and down, in a slow, barely constrained motion. He had almost come by that one stroke, so horny was his mind. Fascinatedly, he watched as his cock and balls took on a deep, green color. It looked almost like a cucumber, or the penis of the incredible hulk. Or... an orc. As he moved his strong hand up and down again, the green started to spread in all directions.

Yes! There was no doubt: He was becoming a big, strong, sexy orc! Charles let all restraints fall away and started pumping in earnest now. With each stroke, the green spread, until his entire torso was of a rich green color. His head felt a pressure as his facial structure reformed, and his ears grew long and pointy. His hair lost darkened and grew out into a wild mohawk-like hairstyle. At the same time, a black beard sprouted around his entire jaw, underlining his masculinity.

Meanwhile, the green had swept across his arms and legs, quickly eliminating any leftover pink spots. The green color looked incredibly hot under the coat of dense, manly hair, and Charles felt himself getting closer. He grunted with each stroke like an animal and where his muscular green body touched the furniture or his executive chair, it left a film of manly sweat. Finally, he felt a short bit of pain on his ears and nipples, as small metal piercings appeared there: Short studs in his ears and small rings in his nipples.

That sent him over the edge. With a final bellow, he came, mightily. His large green balls contracted and his massive cock spew cum everywhere: All over his stomach, his chest, his furniture, even his face!

Charr panted in the afterglow of his orgasm. He was the epitome of virility and although he had just cummed all over his office, his mind kept creeping back to sexy guys again. He would be able to go again, soon - but that had to wait a bit. He used the remains of his suit to clean up a bit (although it was still clearly visible and smellable what happened here), stuffed his mighty tool into the cum-stained underwear and reached for the phone.

"Please send the board to my office, I want to issue an honorable apology, and announce our new strategy." He rumbled with his new, low voice. After a moment of consideration, he added: "And please send someone to install our games on my PC."

He rubbed his hands. This would usher in a whole new era for GreenGames - with the greenest possible CEO.

I have the feeling that a lot of companies could benefit greatly from a bit of a greener leadership!

[allpiesforourown]

I know I've posted bingqiu actors au before but I'm having thoughts for another one..

Shen Yuan only occasionally acts in things he's interested in.. he'll be like "oh I like this book, they better not butcher it!" and then because his family is rich, he'll get a role. People who have never worked with him before hate him at first bc he's a nepotism baby, but then they see his passion and acting skills and go "Oh nvm, he's actually really good... he didn't have to audition like everyone else because he has connections, but if he had auditioned, we would have picked him regardless."

Then there's young binghe playing a minor character.. he's not an actor, nor does he want to be, but child labour laws say he can't get a regular job and he wants to help provide for his mom.. a 14 year old can't work at a fast food place, but movies do need real children to act in them, so that was the only option he had

Shen Yuan is 19 at this point and binghe ADORES him. He brings him food he made at home and shyly waits with bated breath for Yuan gege to say it's good. Shen Yuan helps him with his homework when neither of them are in a scene, and whenever binghe acts really well and the director praises him, he ignores everyone to run to shen yuan and ask if he did well.

When production nears its end binghe says he wants to keep working with Yuan ge!! Shen Yuan isn't working on any other projects though, and the ones he is working on won't hire Binghe.

Everyone is impressed enough with Binghe to help him stay in the industry though, and get him another minor role, then another, then a somewhat important role, then a co-lead... by the time he's in his early twenties, binghe is a household name, and shen yuan is "that actor most people will recognize but don't remember from where."

By the time they finally work together again it's like

Binghe: Yuan gege!!!! I'm so excited to work with you again!!!!

Shen Yuan: haha you remember me! I'm happy :)

Binghe, who borderline stalks shen yuan: haha yes of course I remember gege :))

Shen yuan still gives him head pats like when binghe was a kid and binghe still clings to him. One time shen Yuan gently pushes Binghe away after a tight hug that's gone on too long and says "okay okay that's enough" and binghe looks CRUSHED so shen yuan feels like the devil and pulls him back into a hug immediately

The movie comes out and it's very well received. Binghes acting was the best it's ever been (since he wanted to show off in front of Yuan gege) so people are very interested in seeing the behind the scenes footage

When it comes out people see binghe being OBSESSED with shen yuan. Whenever the two of them are in the same frame, binghe is looking at shen yuan with the softest most loving expression while shen yuan is yelling at the script writer about fan service. There's about 10 moments when Binghe comes up from behind and grabs shen yuans waist and sets his head down on shen yuans shoulder. When people see binghe saying "gege open wide, I made this just for you!" And hand feeding shen yuan they're like okay yeah there's no denying it anymore.

Then they find out this isn't their first time working together and find old bts footage of when binghe was 14 and following shen yuan around like a puppy with hearts in his eyes and they go holy fuck he's been obsessed with shen yuan for YEARS

The cast all go to an interview

Interviewer: people were surprised to see how close you two are!

Shen Yuan: well it's not our first time working together :)

Binghe: I've been waiting to work with Yuan ge again for all this time :D

Interviewer: aww! Now about rumors saying Luo Binghe is in love with shen Yuan...

Shen Yuan: obviously they're-

Binghe: true

Interviewer: ..... oh my

Shen Yuan: um...?

Binghe: Yuan ge is very well aware of my feelings, I was very obvious

*camera pans over to shen yuan where his face is red and his mouth is wide open in shock*

[blackwidownat2814]

Steal My Thunder (T.Owens)

Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader

Word Count: 462

A/N: Welcome to my first Tyler Owens fic! I was throwing fic ideas around before I even saw the movie. I watched several interviews and other stuff on YouTube and took notes even. Then after seeing it the third time, I started working on this story. I don't anticipate this being a real long story, but I also will be a little slow to update because of work or writer's block or working on a crochet project I really need to finish. What I'm really saying is please be patient with me. Secondly, like in my other works, I'd planned to make this with a plus size!reader in mind, but I decided to go with insecure because I want to try and be a little more inclusive. Also, unless otherwise stated, my readers are always female readers. Lastly, I'm already working on Chapter 1, so keep an eye out for that. However, if you really like this, please let me know and I can tag you in future updates. And as always, I will be crossposting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen Kthxbye! PS: Thanks to KJ & Jordyn for their help in beta-ing and title/chapter ideas! Love y'all!

Prologue

You were a Lead Meteorologist for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.  You should not be handling school age tour groups.  You were just about DONE with being treated like a secretary.  The rest of them thought that just because Kate was gone that they could go back to treating you like they did before her.

You were quiet, shy, and someone whose love language was acts of service, so you loved to help people out.  The problem was that your co-workers abused that part of you.  They asked to lead the school groups, bring everyone coffee, put together packets for meetings, etc.  Complete nonsense…and you were done.

It was then, as you mentally typed up your resignation, that you received a serendipitous call from Kate herself.

“I believe the sayin’ is ‘No man left behind’.”

“You’re not an US Army Ranger, B.”

“Yeah, well…”  You trailed off, not wanting to burden your friend with your issues.  Kate always told you that it was okay to talk to her when you needed someone, but you were stubborn.  You were very much of the ‘friends aren’t therapists’ mindset.

“Talk to me B.”

“I’m happy for you, ya know?  You’re back to doing’ something I know you loved.  I can see it in your eyes with each video or stream I watch.”

“Okay, keep your secrets…and thank you.  I am happy.”

“So…what can I do for ya?  Why are you botherin’ me on my lunch hour?”

“Damn!  Sorry about that B.”

“You know I don’t actually care.  Tell me what’s up.”

“I’m callin’ with a job off-”

“I’ll take it.”

“Woah, I haven’t even said what it-”

“I don’t care.  Ever since you left, and because I’m a huge push over, everyone’s been walking all over me.  You know I had to do three tours today?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“I know Kate.  Just…what’s the job anyway?”  Your friend was silent for a moment, before you heard her exhale.

“It’s storm data analysis really.”

“Elaborate.”

“We’re trying to really get down to the nitty gritty with the data from the EF-5 we got to dissipate last season and see where to improve, how to catalog it in our info database, etc.”

“I’m in”, you said.  “Y’all won’t treat me like some secretary, I’ll be close to home again, and I’ll get to spend all my time with you.”

“We most definitely will not treat you like some secretary.  We’re equal opportunity storm chasers out here.”

You tossed your empty sandwich bag into the trash and pulled up Word to start drafting your resignation letter.

“Say, what are the benefits as a Tornado Wrangler?”  Before Kate could reply, you heard Boonie baby! Woo! in the background.

With that enthusiasm, what could possibly go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @buckysdollforlife @13braincellsonly

[alientee]

This is a 3 shot series inspired by the amazing writer @gyoongim. They did amazing with my ask and I’m in love with Alastor x Jessica rabbit .🤣

Fun fact It’s said that Jessica rabbit is also asexual!

Charlie felt defeated, she tried her hardest but there wasn’t shit she could do against that damn Adam or the council. Sera took pity on her stopping her for a moment “Charlie…… while you were not successful maybe we can come to a compromise?”

Charlie looked back up with her with hope in her eyes while Vaggie continues to glare.

“How about this we send an angel down with you, they spend a day in your hotel and we get to learn about all your progress. Maybe that will help sway the masses and myself.

Charlie instantly nodded thanking them over and over again. “So where’s the angle joining us”

“Emily has gotten her….. ah there they are”

Emily bounced forward happily introducing you

“Charlie this is y/n she’s one of the angels that actually believe In your cause!”

Sera looked down at you giving you a stern look.

“You’ll stay there for 1 day and then come right back y/n. Stay safe and good luck”

You walk into the portal with Charlie and Vaggie leading to the hotel. The demon princess didn’t stop talking about how she was going to give you a tour, show you everything they have to offer, even take you to the few nice places in hell. She started to ask you questions. She seemed really sweet and excited to get to know you. “Can I just say you look absolutely gorgeous, you’re like wow!”

You giggled. “Thank you hun I used to turn a lot of heads when I was alive. Too bad I only had eyes for one man.”

Charlie looked even more excited “ Oh my gosh tell me everything!”

You went on and on about your past, how you were a singer and a model, how you were married to a radio host. How you got married and ended up retiring to be a housewife. You stopped your story when you ended up in front of a hotel looking around shocked.

“So this is hell huh? Now tell me more about the hotel”

Charle links her arm with yours pushing the doors of the hotel open. “This is the hazbin hotel! Were we have 2 residents ready to rehabilitate and reform there life into good! It may not look like much but I garuntee you everyone here is dedicated to making there life better!”

Vaggie scoffed “not everyone”

“Okay almost everyone hehe” Charlie rubbed her neck nervously.

You look around and see the interior with a scary looking bar there were a couple of demons one looks like a spider the other a snake, two cyclops and the last one was…. a bird cat?

“Everyone this is y/n! She’s gonna be staying with us for the day to prove to heaven that demons can change!”

They all introduce themselves and the spider named angel comes up to you, looking you up and down. “ Beautiful and Busty they should’ve never sent you down here toots! Now you can give me a run for my money”

You laugh it off giving him a wink “I’m a tough lady I can handle myself. It’s nice to meet y’all”

Charlie gives you a tour of the hotel and you meet up with group once more “So what do you think y/n!”

“I think y’all have something really nice going on here”

“Thank you-“

“Charlotttttteeee~ why is there an angel in our premises didn’t I tell you the couldn’t be trusted”

You turned around at the sound at the static like voice.

“Y/N… is that you?”

Alastor still keeps his signature smile but his eyes are wide with confusion. He walks up to you pulling you into his chest. Alastor kisses both your cheeks putting his forhead against yours. “It’s me mon amor”

“Alastor!? Honey you look so different and your smile is even bigger than I remember”

“Well you know you’re not fully dressed without a smile. Y/n darling what are you doing here? Someone sweet as you doesn’t belong down here”.

You hold him close snuggling into his chest “oh Al it’s alright I’m just here to see the hotel on behalf of the council. I missed you so much ! What are you doing here honey ? I was so confused when I never met you in heaven what on earth got you down here?”

Alastor looks away sheepishly “Well about that-“

“UM EXCUSE ME!”

You both turn around to see everyone looking at you both in shock. After a long silence Charlie speaks up.

“So you two know eachother huh”

You looking at everyone shyly “You remember how I said I was married to a radio host”

Alastor smirked pulling his arm around your waist. “This gorgeous gal has had my heart since I first laid eyes on her” He kisses your forhead

None of them could believe it! You were Alastor’s wife?!

Vaggie moves forward while everyone else is looking at you in shock. “Hold on, wait a minute let me get this straight. You! A gorgeous, kind hearted, helpful angel…… are married to that thing?!”

Alastor squints his eyes his static going off “what are you trying to say Vaggatha”

Angel interrupts her before she could speak

“ it means she’s waaaayyyyy out of your league smiles. I mean Vaggies right, she’s hot and your….anyway, how and the hell did a dame like you end up with old freak face anyway?”

Alastor rolls his eyes “ I won her affections with my charm and manners. Something you clearly don’t have my feminine fellow”

Angel looks at him uninterested “yea I ain’t buying that. Toots why you with this stuck up prude?”

You hold alastor arm cuddling up to his side “He makes me laugh, how could I turn him down when he always put a smile on my face” you giggle softly

Everyone was still shocked by your answer none of them could really see someone like you with someone like alastor but decided to accept it (everyone accept Angel and Vaggie) Angel smirks

“Ok so I was right it definitely wasn’t for his looks”

“Well beauty isss in the eye of the beholder, I guesss he jussst got lucky”

Alastor rolls his eyes “Are you miscreants quite done”

“Now we always know why Mr fancy talk creepy voice is always smiling. Thinking about his busty wife gets him through the day haha”

“Angel dust if you wish to redeem your soul and make it into heaven I suggest you watch your mouth before I end your life.”

“Oh Al leave him be he’s just joking, now tell me why your down here”

Alastor sighs giving you his arm. You grab it not questioning it as he walks you both to the door. He doesn’t even look back at the others .

“I’m talking my wife for a walk we’ll be back shortly”

As the two of you walk out everyone stays silent until Angel speaks up. “I don’t care what any of you’s say, he was definitely not hitting that right”

As you both leave Alastor stays silent. You don’t rush him to talk, you never did. You two never fought when you were alive you always talked it out and took it one step at a time.

“You should know that I didn’t tell you this because I didn’t want to hurt you or scare you. You were the only good thing I had left after my mother. So I hope you can forgive me for keeping it from you.”

“Go on hon I’m listening”

“The bayou serial killer, that was me doll….i died getting shot in the head with a rifle, being mistaken for a deer while I was burying a body. And I may of…. ate a few people, but they were never in your food!”

You looked at him in shock but you never let go of his arms. “Oh my gosh….. that’s what you were doing out there, they never told me, just said it was a hunting accident….. I should’ve known! You would always go one these nature trips at night when ya barley had friends plus I shoulda known someone like you doesn’t like outdoor activities like that! How ya wouldn’t let me in your tool shed because it was to much “dangerous” stuff in there. How you’d come home from the radio tower early hours in the morning. I thought you were stepping out on me for a time but you still showed me all the same amount of affection so I pushed that thought out the window”

Alastor laughed a laugh track playing in the back ground “Oh daring why would I ever step out on the most beautiful woman in the world. I’d be a fool to have eyes for anyone but you”

He squeezed your hips pulling you into a hug “Do you regret marrying me, please tell the truth?”

“Oh Al of course not, even if you are a killer you were so sweet and gentle with me I’ve never felt safer than when I was with you. Your a wonderful husband I’ll never regret you honey ”

Alastor pulled you close his smile getting wider. “How about I make it up to you darling let me take you out on the town, it’s been a while and you deserve to be spoiled doll.”

“I’d love that Alastor”

You both walked down the street in silence with you both linked arm and arm as always. Until Alastor spoke up again”

“And by the way sweetheart Tu portes l'enfer hors de cette robe, j'ai raté ces courbes”

You blushed “Still a charmer I see”

Part 2 comming soon~

[showtoonzfan]

Ganna rant about Episode 4 of Hazbin again. For starters it has the same issue that Seeing Stars did for Helluva boss, that being Loona giving Octavia advice in comparison to Husk giving Angel advice. While the characters situations are different, both Loona and Husk were the wrong characters to pick to give advice, or simply just comfort the other character. I’ve already seen some people say that Charlie or Vaggie should have been the one to cheer Angel up, and that would have made more sense. They’ve known him longer and it’s in character for them to do that. For it to be Husk, not only does it feel forced as an excuse to just hook Angel up with a boyfriend and get the shipping fuel going, but it doesn’t make sense narratively.

In Loona’s case, her situation was flawed because she just MET Octavia, didn’t know a thing about her struggles and spouts to her about how she should be thankful just because her dad is “trying”, and the show tries comparing both girl’s situations when they’re not the same. This is practically the same situation with Angel and Husk. While Husk is aware of Angel, he barley knows him. He hasn’t been at the hotel that long considering the pilot took place only a week ago. On screen, all that Husk knew about Angel was that he was a porn star who constantly flirts with everyone, him especially, and we as the audience only see that and only that when the two interact. However episode 4 claims that Husk can see right through him and know that this is all part of his persona that he displays. If we had more time with these two characters outside of flirty banter scenes, this would make more sense, but instead it’s all tell and no show, being rushed with the little time we’re given. Husk even says that the hotel residents go to him to rant their sorrows while they’re drunk and even THAT happens off screen and that’s the problem, the audience has no reason to believe that Husk knows Angel deep down or even cares enough to want to help him, in our eyes, all Angel’s been doing is sexually harassing him.

There’s no reason why these two need to have an emotional scene together, it’s unearned and unwarranted because we haven’t had enough time with these characters, just like Loona and Octavia, there’s just no purpose or buildup. I also resort back to what I’ve said before: Husk selling his soul to Alastor is not the same as Angel selling his soul to Valentino. The show tries to compare Angel and Husk’s situations and it’s just not comparable because Alastor isn’t a rapist who’s trapping Husk to sell his body and be used like a rag doll constantly. Had it been something like “you’re a drug abuser and I’m an alcoholic”- THEN that would have worked, but that’s not what we get, and this leads me to talking about why “Loser Baby” isn’t good.

Some people have already misinterpreted my opinion, so here’s a few things. Is the song in character for Husk? Yes. Is the song about Husk telling Angel not to act and just embrace himself? Yes. On its own, the song is fine outside of some distasteful lines. The CONTEXT, execution, and placement of the song is the issue. Episode 4’s whole purpose is to see just how much Angel suffers. He’s forced to work like a dog at the studio day in and day out, and he gets abused and SA’d by his boss and other demons constantly. He doesn’t have a say in anything and can never say no because he’s under contract. He can’t Fizz his way out of this one and just go “I quit”, he’s literally forced to work in the porn industry wether he likes it or not, and we see all of that on screen. We also explore just how much this affects him. They reveal some pretty dark stuff here, how Angel doesn’t even want his position as a famous porn star and is so desperate to be numb from the pain and suffering he endorses that he’ll get high constantly and let people drug him for nefarious reasons, it’s his escape. They dump ALL of that info onto us, only for this bullshit to come up:

So the writers slut shame him, call him a freak and an addict to laugh at because “haha he’s addicted to drugs and a slut”, even though we JUST got done with a scene that confirms HE DOES ALL OF THIS AS A TRUAMA RESPONSE. He said himself he does the drugs and is addicted to numb the pain, and his own flirting (while problematic) is shown to be an act of him hyper sexualizing himself due to what he goes through. It’s not excusable but it’s still a fact, and we’re supposed to LAUGH at him??? That’s what’s wrong with his character and what continues to be wrong, because Viv sees him as the butt of the joke. Every line of dialogue he has is always about sex and how we should laugh because he’s a slut, an it comes off as so distasteful and insensitive to not only people who have been abused/SA’d, but porn actors in general. We’re supposed to laugh when he talks about cock and sex, but the reason he’s doing it is so dark that we shouldn’t be laughing about it at all cause he’s a VICTIM, yet Viv thinks it’s funny. It’s so disgusting and makes my stomach twist. Angel is trapped being in a position he doesn’t even want to be in, yet his entire character revolves around comedic sex jokes, and once you figure out the reason behind said sex jokes, it feels so wrong.

And this is why Loser Baby doesn’t work. Aside from everything else I’ve already said, It doesn’t line up with what Angel is going through, it doesn’t line up with the rest of the episode. If you wanted Angel to have this arc about realizing he doesn’t need to stick to his persona, fine, but you should have done it in a different episode. This is why Husk comes off as telling him to just suck it up and stop whining rather than what he’s actually trying to say. It looks bad with how they executed it, it just looks like he’s telling an SA victim to get over it and stop whining and what’s worse is they compare their situations when it’s not the same. You literally have a scene of Angel telling Husk he lets people drug him, and not even a minute later Husk is calling him a loser. That’s the issue. The show doesn’t know how to read the room, build character relationships slower, is just so incredibly tone deaf and is hypocritical. We’re supposed to feel bad for Angel cause he’s sexualized to the maxes and is having trauma responses of that, but then we’re also supposed to laugh at him and his sex jokes while also finding him hot. Pick a fucking side Vivienne, the show wants to have its cake and eat it too and look where that’s gotten us. The writing is a fucking atrocious mess and yet it had so much potential if Viv actually cared enough to take Angel seriously, instead of just desperately wanting to give him a boyfriend, and a rushed arc where he magically feels better in the end.

[nanowrimo]

Write Smarter, Not Harder: 5 Ways to Conquer Chaotic Writing

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. ButterDocs, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is an all-in-one writing app built for productivity, collaboration, and a more joyful writing experience. Today, the folks at ButterDocs share a few tips on organizing your writing to meet your goals:

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