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katelynnwrites · 1 year

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Can You Keep Me Close? (Can You Love Me Most?) | Ona Batlle

warnings: smut, skip the first part of the fic if you’re uncomfortable with that

word count: 3430

summary: all you want is for someone to stay, keep you close and love you most. will ona be able to do so for you again?

chosen song: someone to stay by vancouver sleep clinic

a/n: chapter 5/6 of you were bigger than the whole sky (you were more than just a short time), includes this request

Ona gasps into your mouth, her hands reaching for your waist.

This kiss isn’t at all like your first kiss.

It’s desperate, full of emotion and messy. You can taste the salt of Ona’s tears and you’re sure she can taste yours.

‘What does this mean?’ Ona breathes, putting her hands on your chest to stop you from connecting your lips a second time.

Her chocolate brown eyes are shining, breathing uneven as she trembles slightly.

You use your thumb to carefully brush away a tear that escapes from her eye.

‘We can talk more later but right now will you show me that you want me? Please Ona.’ You whisper, the weight of your request hanging in the tiny space between the both of you.

‘I can do that.’ Ona murmurs, nodding her head slightly.

The Spanish woman kisses you carefully, slowly walking you backwards towards your bed, where she sits you down.

Her hands slip under your hoodie, the gentle touch of her fingers on your skin making goosebumps form.

Ona feels them and smiles, heart clenching as she realises the effect she still has on you.

‘You’re so beautiful.’ She hums, tilting your head so that she can place a kiss onto the sensitive spot you have there.

The combined effect of her demonstrating that she still knew your body and her lips on that particular place makes you shiver.

‘Ona...’ You moan when she begins sucking gently.

Ona moans herself, your moan of her name sounding like heaven to her ears. She didn’t think she’d ever hear it again.

She keeps up her suction for a few more seconds before pulling away and seeking your permission to tug your hoodie off.

You shrug the material off immediately and Ona is quick to begin mapping your skin with her lips.

‘Y-you can leave marks if you like.’ You stammer shakily.

Ona groans at that, finding your collarbone and eagerly getting to work.

******

The first hickey sixteen year old Ona gives you is a complete accident. Making out with you had felt so good that she had gotten carried away.

She’s nervous and apologetic about it, completely freaked out by the bruise she’d marred your skin with.

Unlike her, you’re quite calm about her hickey, simply admiring it in the mirror (you loved how it looked on you).

Ona’s still flustered by the time you turn around to look back at her and that makes you laugh.

‘Don’t worry about it Oni. I think it looks great.’

‘Y-you do?’

‘Mhm. I do however, think it’s only fair that I’m allowed to give you one too.’

Your girlfriend becomes even more flustered by your response (her red cheeks are adorable you think).

Eventually she settles on a shy, ‘Only if you want to.’

Grinning, you’re fast to carefully tilt her neck to get better access. A gentle suction is started moments after you press a few kisses there.

Ona’s knees nearly buckle and her blush darkens.

As you continue with your rather enjoyable task, she lets out a moan and a strained, ‘Te amo.’

******

She leaves a red mark on your collarbone that you know will darken in a matter of hours.

The same treatment is given to your other collarbone before Ona moves on to trace what she can see of your breasts with her forefinger.

‘Off?’ You question and Ona nods (very eagerly you might add).

You acquiesce, lifting your arms so that Ona can take off your bra.

Her eyes immediately drop down, staring at your boobs in a way that would have made you self conscious if you hadn’t already known that she would do that (the first time Ona saw them you thought she was going to combust).

******

‘C-can I touch them-you?’ Ona stutters, unable to look away.

‘Amor, I change in front of you all the time. You’ve seen me in my underwear.’ You tease but Ona flushes and whines, ‘It’s not the same.’

You laugh and decide to put her out of her misery.

‘Go on Oni.’

Your sixteen year old girlfriend doesn’t need to be told twice.

******

Ona moans, as she cups your breasts. Her fingers brush over your nipples, making them stiffen almost immediately.

The fullback rolls them between her thumb and forefinger, alternating between that particular movement and gentle pinching.

‘Ona por favor.’ You plead, needing more.

You’re squeezing your thighs together, wanting Ona to give you something, anything to relieve that ache.

‘What do you need? Talk to me baby.’

‘Please. I need more.’ (‘i need you’ is left unsaid).

Ona kisses you passionately, pressing you onto your back as she straddles you.

‘Better?’

‘Sí.’

The Spanish woman leaves a trail of kisses as she moves down your body, only stopping when she reaches the waistband of your shorts.

She slips a hand underneath them, fingers seeking the wet spot on your underwear.

Ona finds it easily, pressing down and making your hips buck.

‘You’re so wet.’ Ona breathes.

‘You still get so wet for me.’

‘Always Ona.’ You admit, raising yourself on your elbows so that you can see her better.

Her eyes are wide and slightly teary so she hides that by removing your shorts and underwear.

Ona presses a kiss onto your pussy, splaying her hand onto your stomach to keep you still.

It’s much needed when she sucks your clit into her mouth, tongue swirling around it.

You cry out and Ona begins in earnest, trying to give you as much pleasure as she can.

‘You taste amazing amor.’

She pushes your legs further apart, spreading your folds and making you moan incoherently as she licks.

Your hand reaches down to tangle in Ona’s hair, tugging on it and making her hum against your soaking core.

The vibrations make your hip jerk uncontrollably and Ona laughs.

‘Sensitive Ona! Too sensitive.’

‘Lo siento.’ She whispers, giving you a little kiss on your swollen clit in apology, even as she smiles.

Ona’s touch is both reassuring and generous, intrinsically attuned to drawing out your pleasure.

And she does, making you let out a sharp cry of her name as you come onto her tongue.

The Spaniard grins, loving how still responded so beautifully to her affections.

She gives you a minute to recover, taking your hand in hers and kissing you on your fingers as you try and get your breathing to even out.

You pant, trying to sit up so that you can kiss Ona.

She makes the task easier for you, pulling you up in one swift motion.

Covering your hand in hers, you kiss her, pouring all your emotions into it.

How much you missed her, your longing for her, these past few years.

Ona responds in like, surging forward and kissing you back.

The kiss is as intimate as it is deep. It’s soft and steady, the gentle pressure of Ona’s lips on yours building a warm feeling in your middle.

‘Ona. Amor.’ (it just slips out, you don’t notice it but she does).

You lean your forehead against hers with closed eyes and she exhales weakly.

‘Oni.’ You mumble, tugging on her shirt.

She gets the hint, leaning back and pulling it off.

You put your hands on her waist, squeezing lightly as you pepper her chest with kisses.

She has new freckles from her time back in Barcelona and you want to explore all of them.

‘Baby.’ Ona’s moan is high pitched and she hurriedly reaches around to unlatch her bra.

Giggling at her enthusiasm, you knead one of her breasts in your palm.

Covering her other nipple with your mouth, you bite it very lightly, remembering how much it used to turn her on.

Your initiative is rewarded with a loud gasp from the fullback.

‘I-If you keep that up I’m going to come.’ Her voice is tight, her body practically shaking as she focuses on withholding her orgasm.

‘It’s okay. You can come whenever you need to.’ You reassure her but she shakes her head, tucking her face into your neck.

‘Don’t want this to end. I’m not ready.’ She softly admits.

‘Onita, please just let me help you come and then we’ll talk okay?’

‘Okay.’ Her voice is small but she stops hiding her face and kisses your cheek.

‘Fingers or tongue Oni?’

‘Whichever you want.’

‘Onita please.’ You murmur, intentionally using the nicknames to show your affection to her.

It works and Ona concedes, ‘Fingers…’

‘I miss the way you feel inside me.’ She shyly admits a half second later.

‘I missed it too.’ You admit, making the brunette smile and kick off her underwear and leggings.

Repositioning so that both you and Ona are more comfortable, you carefully stroke her arousal swollen bud.

‘You’re so gorgeous. Hermosa, you’ve always made me weak in my knees.’

Ona blushes furiously at your sentiment and you laugh, using your fingers to spread her open.

She cherishes it, willing herself to commit the sound to her memory because there had been long nights when she’d feared she’d never get to hear your laugh again.

She shivers in anticipation but as you begin to push your finger in, she grabs your wrist.

‘I haven’t done this in years. You’re the only one I’ve ever had sex with.’

Her brown eyes are tear filled, exposing how vulnerable she’s feeling.

You decide that if you want things to work out between the both of you, you need to be honest as well.

‘It’s the same for me Ona. I’ll go slow I promise.’

******

The first time you and Ona give yourselves to each other at eighteen, is beautiful.

It’s not the best sex you’ve ever had (the two of you improve much more over the years) but it’s the most special.

It’s slow, cautious and messy (curious as well), the both of you learning about and exploring each other’s bodies.

You didn’t think you would have another moment quite like it but the moment you and Ona find yourselves again, nearly ten years later tops it.

It’s familiar, having sex with each other but it’s made so much more intimate by the way the both of you were intent on relearning each other’s bodies.

******

She’s tense as you slide your index finger into her.

With how wet she is, you know you can easily add another but you gently thrust that one finger in and out of her until she gives you the okay to add a second.

Her eyes slip close, breathing growing stuttered as you alternate between smooth, deep strokes and rougher, shallower ones.

‘Bebé.’ She moans as her walls flutter around your fingers.

Ona makes a desperate grab for your free hand, squeezing it tightly and whimpering.

You start to curl your fingers with every thrust and Ona’s back arches with pleasure.

She doesn’t stop herself from letting you hear and see the effect you have on her, her moans of your name increasing in frequency and volume.

You don’t think she can stop herself and even if she did, you would know how much you aroused her from the copious amounts of her juices between her thighs.

When Ona finally allows herself to reach her high and spill her release, she muffles her moans with her arm.

The tears the both of you had been withholding break free and you find yourself clinging to Ona for comfort.

She doesn’t turn you away as you’d half feared she would, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close instead.

‘I’m here amor. I promise I’m always going to be here from now on.’

******

You soak in as much time as you can in Ona’s arms before you break the silence regretfully.

Lying with your head resting on Ona’s bare chest, listening to her heartbeat as her fingers comb through your hair, you hated to end the moment.

‘Ona, we should talk now.’ You whisper and she nods, extricating herself from behind you and passing you your hoodie before wearing her own.

She resettles herself opposite you, eyeing you with more than some trepidation.

‘Ona?

‘Yes?’

‘You wrote me letters on my birthday. You didn’t forget about me?’

Ona lets out a mirthless laugh, ‘How could I? You are my world. Just because I made an awful decision doesn’t mean that that changed. You are always going to be my world, even when we’re apart.’

‘Oh.’

Inhaling and exhaling as you fiddle with a loose thread on your shirt, you look back up at her and softly say, ‘I never forgot about you either. Do you want to know what I did on your birthdays?’

‘Yeah.’ Ona breathes, the revelation that you had thought about her too making her heart skip a beat.

******

All your United teammates knew not to disturb you on Ona’s birthday.

The first year Millie was the one the rest of the team sent to try and comfort you (they had all wanted to come but you had a tendency to be overwhelmed). The English woman had tried but you had shut yourself off and refused to open your door.

You had stayed inside, with the chocolate cupcake you bought from yours and Ona’s favourite cafe.

Chocolate was Ona’s favourite flavour.

Sitting on your bed, you would blow out a little candle on the cupcake at midnight, whispering a tiny broken, ‘Feliz cumpleanõs Ona.’

It became your tradition, every year your teammates would leave you alone (it wasn’t like they weren’t there for you, each and every one of them would text you a short message, just to check in. but they knew you preferred it this way. you needed to grieve and this was your way of doing it) and every year you would buy a chocolate cupcake and a candle to celebrate Ona’s birthday on your own.

******

‘You did that? Every year?’ Ona’s voice is shaky, tears forming in her eyes as she takes in this new piece of information.

‘Yeah…’

Ona buries her face in her hands and sobs quietly.

‘Lo siento. Lo siento mucho.’ She mumbles.

‘I know you are. But is that enough Ona? You didn’t come back for me for years. I stayed here all this time because some little part of me always thought you would come back. I had plans…I had plans for us. You made me feel important and then you tried to erase us. Years of loving you and even after you broke my heart, it showed! When I got my ribs fractured last year, I asked for you. In the hospital, Millie told me that the first words I said after coming out of sedation were your name and how I wanted you.’

Ona’s breath hitches and to your surprise, she nods.

‘I know. And I came.’

‘Y-you did?’

The fullback inclines her head slightly.

‘I did. Ivana called and told me what Millie had told her. Even though I was supposed to play that day, I was on a plane out immediately. I came to your hospital room.’

Shaking your head in confusion you tell her, ‘I don’t remember. I’m sure I didn’t see you Ona.’

‘I know. It was late and you were sleeping. I could not stop myself from holding your hand. You looked so small, so fragile in that bed. I stayed with you that night, never once letting go of your hand. In that awful plastic chair, I sat with you the whole night. I couldn’t sleep, I just sat and watched your chest rise and fall with every breath.’

‘Why didn’t you stay? Why didn’t you wake me at least?’ You desperately ask.

‘You needed your rest and I could lie and say I was scared of breaking you further while you were already broken but really I wasn’t brave enough.’

Ona swallows hard, eyes dropping to the duvet.

‘I left when the sun started to rise. I kissed you on your forehead, told you I loved you and promised I’d be back before catching the first flight back to Barcelona.’

‘Those flowers…it was you.’

You remember now, the bouquet of daisies that had no name and no card. Daisies are your favourite and you didn’t think anyone else knew it (nobody knew other than Ona and that should have really clued you in, an entire year ago).

‘Yeah…’

You don’t know what to say, simply staring at the brunette.

‘I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot for you to process.’ Ona picks at her fingernails, refusing to meet your eyes.

‘You were scared?’

You know that she knows you’re not asking about the last time she was in Manchester but rather the time before that.

Ona looks up with a tiny melancholic smile, ‘I was terrified. I’d wake up in the night just to make sure you were still in bed with me. When I slept on the couch, I would come back in to sit on the edge of the bed and watch you sleep. It was the night you were crying as you slept that I couldn’t-I just knew that I had gone too far. I was hurting you even in your sleep.’

‘I-I didn’t know. Was that the night before you left?’

‘Yes.’

You blink back tears, eyes darting all around the room in an effort to just not look at her.

Ona sighs and reaches for your hands.

‘Our love, my love for you was so big and that scared me. What scares me even more is that that love has only become bigger. It’s bigger than the whole sky.’

The tears that you had tried so hard to hold back fall then (you were getting really tired of crying).

‘But you didn’t tell me what you were feeling, what you were going through. That hurts even more than you rejecting my proposal.’

Exhaling slowly, you continue, ‘I thought that was something we had worked towards. We had discussed it multiple times over the years and we agreed that marriage was something that we both wanted. I thought we were at that point in our relationship that we were ready for the next step. Finding out that you didn’t trust me enough to talk about your issues is heartbreaking. Ona I thought we trusted each other, I don’t know when that changed for you.’

‘That’s exactly it, nothing changed. I trusted you, I trust you still. I just thought that they were my issues and I had to solve them alone.’ She admits defeatedly.

‘Ona…’ You soften and reach out for her hand.

She lets you squeeze it, sucking in a deep steadying breath.

‘I would have been happy for you to share what you were going through. I would have helped you. You have never been a burden to me Onita.’

‘I know. I really am sorry amor. I have caused you so much pain and that’s why I don’t understand why you’re treating me so well.’

‘Is that why you got so angry at me today? Because you didn’t understand?

The fullback looks ashamed of herself as she nods.

‘I saw that you took away all our photos. Every photo that I was in, you took down. I understand why you did, it showed how angry and hurt you were after the break up. You were in agony amor and yet you’re still more than nice to me.’

‘Ona. I-’

‘You don’t owe me an explanation.’

You sigh, moving and adjusting yourself so that you’re in her arms.

The brunette absentmindedly drops a kiss onto your head and you sigh again.

It’s so comforting being back with Ona, breathing in her unique scent and listening to her steady heartbeat that you begin to find your eyes slipping close.

The former Manchester United player must think you’re asleep after a while because she brushes feather light kisses onto the expanse of whatever exposed skin she can reach.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.’ She whispers as she does so.

‘Please believe me when I say I’m sorry. And that I love you.’

You press yourself closer to her (her body still fit perfectly against yours).

‘I believe you. And I love you too.’

Ona gasps softly, kissing your forehead adoringly.

In that moment, she makes a silent vow that she’s going to do whatever she can to be good enough for you.

A sleepy smile forms on your face as Ona rubs soothing circles onto your back.

That’s how you fall asleep, resting in the arms of someone who loved you, someone who wanted you enough to come back for you.

Spanish Translations:

te amo - i love you

por favor - please

sí - yes

amor - love

lo siento- i’m sorry

hermosa - beautiful

bebé - baby

feliz cumpleaños - happy birthday

lo siento mucho - i’m so sorry

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eliounora · 3 months

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something about describing fictional couples and relationships as "healthy" and some considering that the highest possible praise bugs me. I suppose if the author's intent is didactic and they want to portray a "healthy" relationship then that would be a great compliment but shouldn't even in that case the best review say "well-written"? that said, the flip-slide of this question is when a well-written relationship gets labeled bad if it's deemed "unhealthy". is analysing fiction through the lens of health the best way?

#began to ponder this when i mentioned medicalisation in the tags of that post about autism. the mental gymnastics #it's good there's awareness about (emotional) abuse and harmful relationships and such #but must all fiction follow this polemic?#nor's rambles #AND what's interesting and representative of reality in a lovely way is that people consider different things healthy #when the second season of ofmd was airing i saw people praise the main couple's relationship for being healthy. and i was like NO IT ISN'T #but that doesn't matter. what matters is that it was MEDIOCRE WRITING AT BEST #their whole shtick in the second season was that they need to communicate! AND THEN THEY NEVER DID

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tryingonametaphor · 10 months

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All the evidence in stranger things is stacked up in favour of byler endgame, but just in case they decide to do nothing with all the clues they planted and just gloss over the fact that mike and will are perfect for each other bc of studio/audience pressure, I’ll just say fuck it and never watch that show again.

Especially knowing that there are shows like Good Omens, Heartstopper, and Our Flag Means Death which have such a wide variety of unapologetically diverse queer characters. Not for plot twists, not for shock value - Just because. We truly shouldn’t be settling for any less rn. Not when all the straight couples in stranger things have been getting very obvious romantic plot lines for 4 seasons now while rovickie and byler have been getting crumbs.

#even Robin and Vickie got mediocre writing man it’s so sad #I love stranger things so much #and I hope they can make history with their queer characters since they’re such a mainstream show #but I really don’t vibe too much with the idea that byler is set up to be a plot twist for the GA #this is a completely personal opinion. and I root for them in ways that I’ve never before for any couple #but man it’s been an exhausting year having to deal with all sorts of bigots bc of the fandom st attracted #not tagging this bc this isn’t really for the tag #just me putting it out in the world #thoughts

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xjumbled-up-brainx · 1 year

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Hey Guys 👁️👁️

I really need y’all’s help, I’m summoning the combined strength of ALL octofans 🐙🐙🐙🌊🌊🌊

I require your headcannons your theories you’re EVERYTHING about what you think other anthropomorphic civilizations are like in the Octonauts universe 👁️👁️

I mean like are there cities, what are they like, how do anthropomorphic and not-anthropomorphic animals interact, which species are anthropomorphic, where the octoagents came from, what technology what architecture, how similar is it to our real world, I WILL LISTEN TO EVERYTHING

Give me evidence backed ideas, give me wild ideas with no proof whatsoever, I need to hear the voice of the people cause I want this new story to be as accurate and agreed upon by the fandom as possible and my jumbled up brain doesn’t have everything JSJSJ

This is a formal request, I call upon the powers of Brendon, lend me your mind dear Octofam, please share with me :3

#if this gets no replies I will cry /j /lh #I wanna start writing tommorow but that includes world building and it’s a lot of thinking to do and I need help :3 #I will keep posting and asking for this over the next weeks or so #but if I get no responses then it’s just gonna be my thoughts which I dare say are mediocre 💀#octonauts #octonauts a&b #octonauts above and beyond #above and beyond #captain barnacles #kwazii octonauts #peso octonauts #jumble tags the big three #yeah that’s how serious I am💀

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abluehappyface · 1 year

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Here's the poem (that's really just a song that doesn't exist yet) I made today!

Tw: Implied death, grief, sickness, very vague mentions of heaven and hell, and a technical depressive spiral?

Ivorine

You're white as a sheet

With skin ivorine

Your silver eyes stare

At your ebony hair

It's fallen out from your head

As you lay in your bed

Face casted with dread

Wondering if you'll be waking up dead

...

The mezzotint of your once worn glasses

Now lays on the bedside table

Every day

You wither away

And there's nothing I can do

The inficate dancers

Sent up from hell

Know nothing of my love

My devotion to you

...

Oh my ivorine beauty,

As your spirit slowly leaves me

Oh my ivorine beauty,

I hold on to your hand

Oh my ivorine beauty,

As your eyes close so gently

Oh my ivorine beauty,

Tell me if heaven's gates are as you planned

Oh my ivorine beauty,

There is ganosis in your eyes

...

It's been years

Since you've died

Many years

I have cried

Images

Of nails stained white

Come to me

To haunt my nights

The tender skin

That once touched mine

Can only be felt

In now passed times

Oh how I wish

For just one kiss

Upon the lips

That birthed me bliss

...

Oh my ivorine beauty,

As your spirit slowly left me

Oh my ivorine beauty,

I held on to your hand

Oh my ivorine beauty,

With eyes closed so gently

Oh my ivorine beauty,

Is heaven as you planned?

...

Oh my ivorine beauty,

Oh how I long for you...

#bluey's writing #bluey's emotions #bluey's is open to questions #bluey's poetry #bluey's shenanigans #bluey's fun posts!#bluey's very happy :)#bluey's being cute ig #bluey's nonsense #honestly super proud of this!#technically part of my Mediocre Poetry™#which i need to tag #bluey's mediocre poetry™#but I think it's very good ♥#abluehappyface #🧁Bri🧁

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ndostairlyrium · 7 months

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Find the Word WIP Game 🖊

rules: search your wip(s) for the words given to you and share a sentence, then assign words for the people you tag

Saint Anthony help me with this one because my wips are both terrible and in my native language so I had to translate them in multiple ways lmao Thank you for tagging me @greypetrel 💛 I love these games so much!! This was particularly hilarious because I wrote the word "soup" just once and it was an adjective (here we use the same word zuppa for the dish and "drenched").

I... huh... who do I tag? Hahah I'm tagging those that'll send 🍰 in the replies u-u Your words are: Hope, Green, Clear, Pole, Fast

Beware of typos 😭🙏

Cloud

An outburst of ice, boiled spinach, and crispy turkey meat created a peculiar wall at the end of the alley, as well as an excellent distraction for the two, who projected themselves inside a window to avoid being captured. They had ended up inside a modest workshop run by a ruddy dwarf with a beard so luscious it looked like a cloud. He, who was carving a rocking horse not far from the window, looked at the two gruffly, but when he noticed the red handkerchiefs his expression lit up immediately. -Friends of Red Jenny?- he asked. Lavellan and Sera nodded in unison. The dwarf rushed to a large chest and opened it. -Get inside, quickly!- he said. The two slipped in, pronto.

Horse

-I told the mage we're managing!- Fern protested, as he extracted his sword, with the cleanest gesture, from the corpse of a hurlock. -We’re not here for you, we’re here for what’s happening further on.- Krem pointed out, engaging a shriek that had just tackled down a dalish. -Further on is just as manageable. [redacted] is almost at the last check-point.- Fern explained, rushing to pull the elf to safety while Krem kept the enemy occupied. Lavellan dismounted her horse, arming herself immediately. -Time to move, then, before they get swept away.- she said to her companions.

Kind

Josephine caressed the misty clouds with her gaze, for then turning to Cullen, who was riding beside her. -You did your best. Actually, I can say I’m proud of how you conducted yourself, commander.- she comforted him with a kind smile. Her interlocutor frowned. -Well, stop doubting and give me some credit, next time!- Josephine expression hinted at him that he wasn't as convincing as he thought he would be. Cullen gave up instantly. -Alright, I’ll admit it; it was traumatic.- he said. -Next time I offer myself for a diplomatic adventure just hit me in the head and lock me inside a closet!- Josephine laughed with gusto. -In that case, I’ll ask the Captain to cover for me.- -I would gladly indulge you, my lady!- Rylen intervened. -Extatically!- he added, ignoring the glares his superior in command was throwing in his direction.

Soup Sigh

-Look, I am the head hunter now. I should be the one giving out roles.- Fern pointed out, lending her a look drenched in frustration. [redacted] and Cullen chuckled dryly. -That's cute!- Lavellan replied, scanning the elf with an amused glance. After reaching moral satisfaction, she just ran away, followed by the archers. [redacted] exhaled a deep sigh. -Look at the bright side, da’len.- he started the sentence, without concluding. Fern stared at him for a while before losing his temper. -So?- he asked, gesturing nervously. [redacted] straight up ignored him, leaving cover to get behind the archers as soon as possible.

#tag meme #the mediocre writing tag #ankh #fern #sera #josephine montilyet #cullen rutherford #knight-captain rylen #and I'll tag the other two when it's time 👀#blargh sorry for the mess of words really #one day I'll just paste things in my native language with a link to deepL at the beginning lol #(I don't think I will but the temptation is real)

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depressed-werewolf · 1 year

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“Are you prepared to die, Hero?” Villain asked, their weapon pressed against the hero’s throat.

“Fuck yeah, I wanted to die anyway.”

The Villain groaned and dropped they weapon. “I’m not doing this.”

A look of confusion creeped onto Hero’s face. “Huh—“

“I can’t deal with you right now,” Villain exclaimed. They were walking away, now. It seemed they’d completely given up on the fight. “Come back when you’ve got a therapist or a will to live.”

#hero x villain #villain x hero #prompt #hero x villain prompt #hero villain prompt #writing prompt #writing #writeblr #tw death mention #imagine if hero was just making a joke because they wanted their last words to be funny #pov: hero is gen z #villain i was joking where tf are you going #mediocre writing prompts #a mediocre writing blog #depressed werewolf #i probably need to calm down with the tags

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pasiphile · 8 months

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>.> Can you say more words about GO2

Oh, I can, but they're not very nice words.

While I had my issues with the first season, the second season is just so... bafflingly bad? Like, so strangely bad. Plotwise it feels like something written by a beginner. Like for some reason they've given a huge budget to some mediocre fanfic. There are just so many instances where they obviously had to get from point A to point B and just made up a quick shortcut without thinking too much about the implications or it, you know, making sense. Some of it is because of the honestly strange decision to let other writers take care of the flashbacks, with the worst contender the WWII flashback (zombies exist now? with no repercussions? so much gratuitous gore? Also the whole sequence with the gun would be so dramatic if, you know, demons actually died instead of being discorporated being nothing but a minor administrative setback). But it's also there in the main plot. Fire extinguishers work against demons for some reason? Aziraphale goes all the way to Scotland and back to learn basically nothing? The whole contrived romantic subplot with Nina and Maggie? The fucking Gabriel/Beelzebub thing? It's all either so heavy handed or just plain lazy. And I'm all for suspension of disbelief but if it's just one thing after another...

To me it feels like the basic plot of the whole second season could've over and done with in half an episode, and they just put in filler after filler to fluff it out into a full season where, in fact, barely anything happens.

And it's so odd! I know John Finnemore's work, he's good at intricate little plot connections! And Neil Gaiman can hardly be called an inexperienced writer either! It just feels like they were too lazy to actually bother writing a plot that works.

Meanwhile characterisation-wise, they've gone further on the path they'd already started in season one and wandered even farther away from what made the book characterisation interesting. In the book, Crowley is the nice one, who's generally polite and friendly and very fond of humans, while Aziraphale is, honestly, a bit of a dick and a recluse who prefers not interacting with humans and is 100% down to kill a child if it means he can keep his comfy lifestyle going. Aziraphale accidentally kills a dove and doesn't care about it. Crowley is the one that revives it. It's that kind of contradiction that makes it so fun, and to see that reversed into Aziraphale being a bleeding heart saving-the-poor-humans and Crowley acting all tough and sarcastic really erases a lot of what makes the pairing so charming.

But the thing that bothers me the most is how much they included the Big Conflict between Heaven and Hell. In the books, both Crowley and Aziraphale are low in the hierarchy. You only catch a glimpse of the big players and only at the end. Plus, they're lazy. It's a plot point that they both have human agents to take care of the work for them and that they don't get involved. They're not remotely interested by the overarching conflict or wanting either side to win. The whole point of the Agreement is that they take over a bit of each other's work for ease and convenience. And they're not particularly involved in humanity's welbeing either, and they definitely don't go around saving individual humans. They're disturbed by it, sure, but they don't think about interfering in any way. They only start taking an active role when their comfy lifestyle is threatened. And that's what I like about the whole thing. It's small, in a way. It's contained. Meanwhile the TV series went full out with Hell and Heaven fighting against each other and Crowley and Aziraphale suddenly becoming major agents in that conflict, catching the interest of demons and angels all the way up. It feels very at odds with the central theme and message of the book.

I did enjoy watching it. About 50% for the little things that did work, and about 50% to point and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

And to spot the Pratchett references, of course. Those were nice.

#Anonymous #good omens negativity #is that a tag? it should be a tag #i dont wanna shit on people who are enjoying it #good for you!#i would have also maybe enjoyed it a lot if i hadn't read the books first #and imprinted on them #but even then it would have felt like. sort of all right fan fiction #the writer wants to characters to kiss #and has a vague idea that there has to plot to get them there #so they quickly rehash some things from the original (jukebox) and make up some conflict #writing mediocre fanfiction of the book you co-wrote thirty years ago? wild. next level. Totally incomprehensible but i am intrigued #will probably watch the 3rd season too #out of morbid curiosity

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throttlegainwell · 6 months

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Milestone Celebration

So, turns out I'm about to have over half a million words posted on ao3 (not counting anything I've got floating around anywhere else on the internet, more recently or from forever ago). I know that's not a huge deal for some people (especially over a whole decade), but it's pretty cool to me.

In honor of that, plus my most prolific writing year on record (no really I've never written this much creative work in one year, this consistently), I'm doing a little prompt/request event. So feel free to send something in (some kind of prompt or an actual specific request), if there's something you think you'd like, and we'll see where it goes!

There's really not much I absolutely won't write, so in the interest of having the loosest, lowest-effort parameters possible, the only request is this: if it's a fandom you see I've written for before (like it's on my ao3 works page), then that fandom is fair game. No preferences other than that. (And I will give anything an honest shot, though it may take me some time and I can't absolutely promise results.)

I've seen other people do stuff like this before, and it looks like fun, so I figured I'd give it a shot. No pressure. (I'm very shy and I very rarely come up with prompts on demand, so I get it.)

#writing tag #prompts #don't get me wrong it's not all *good* writing #some of it i'm very comfortable calling mediocre and i was very intentionally not a perfectionist about any of it #(i think my standards were higher when i was writing a few things a year)#but i had fun writing all of it and i exercised my creative muscles regularly #and that's fucking huge for me #and i do think that some of it has been pretty good #but yeah 'complete' has been a bigger goal for me than 'exactly what i wanted'#also gonna be honest here #i'm incredibly internet shy and was not expecting to generate this level of interaction #but i've talked to some very lovely people and been having a lot of fun #so this social side of fandom is also relatively new for me but i'm tentatively digging it #i normally just dump my stories and lurk #i know i know the last thing i need is more wips #but i've been swimming in my thesis this year and just generally having a lot going on IRL and i'm about to graduate after infinity years #so all things considered i feel like i've accomplished something on a personal level #and i want to celebrate #we'll see what happens

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seidooreiki · 4 months

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Tell Me That You Love Me Episode 15-16

The review of the last two episodes of Tell Me That You Love Me

So, finally, I gathered enough bravery to watch the last two episodes, fearing that the show would end up with bad end.

Thankfully, it isn't. Unfortunately, it ended like how I expected it to be. The damn time skip.

But, who am I to complain? I'm satisfied enough that the show doesn't end with a bad ending. That's enough.

So, the last two episodes totally… destroyed me.

I cried like I was the one who got brokenhearted.

In that scene where Jin Woo cries and calls Mo Eun's name in his hoarse voice, it is such a shame that Mo Eun didn't hear it.

I think the core of the problem between Mo Eun and Jin Woo is that… Jin Woo's lack of conveying his feelings to Mo Eun. Like the title of the show, Tell Me That You Love Me. Of course, it started because of Jin Woo's lack of communication about what happened with his past lover, but after that, Mo Eun felt lonely because she felt like she was the only one who loved him, and he didn't return her feelings.

Of course, Jin Woo has his own way of loving Mo Eun and he is the type who shows his affection through actions. But, even that was so subtle to see and Mo Eun needs to squint her eyes to understand the meaning of all of Jin Woo's subtle expressions of love. She could think that Jin Woo doing all of that because he was being nice, not necessarily because he loved her. The more she was in doubt, the more she failed to see Jin Woo's language of love.

And Jin Woo, mostly, acted so passively. There was a lot of waiting on his end because he was always walking on eggshells. Their love was mature, but maybe, it was also too quiet. Compared to the other love stories in this drama, their love is too quiet and Mo Eun became lonely because of that.

Of course, it isn't good for her to start wishing to have something that Jin Woo can't do, and that is exactly why she berated herself in the end. It isn't easy to love Jin Woo, who is scarred and carries a lot of baggage on his end. It isn't weird for Mo Eun to feel saddened and lonely because of she started to lost her believe that Jin Woo loved her back.

This drama could end better if they could communicate better, for Mo Eun to convey why she felt lonely (though I understand that she also didn't have the heart to ask Jin Woo to convey his love to her in a more apparent way because Jin Woo's language of love is simply different, that is just how he is) and for Jin Woo to understand that he did deserve people to love him (so that he doesn't need to always act carefully and so guarded, fearing that one stupid mistake can drive people away from him).

Of course, the damn time skip came, and while the show is shown how all of the characters' life turned out, it fails to show why Jin Woo and Mo Eun need time to love each other back again.

If I can speculate, maybe the reason why Jin Woo acted so brightly after returning from abroad is that he finally allowed himself to love Mo Eun. He always felt like he undeserving of love, so to accept that it is okay for him to love someone is a huge deal. For him who always prepare himself for people to leave him all the time, it is indeed a huge deal. Mo Eun herself, finally understands that everyone has their own way of conveying their love and that people can love in different ways and shapes.

It would be way better if the drama ended with a scene of Jin Woo really says how much he loves Mo Eun, not just a monologue on his part.

But well, again, I'm happy with the happy ending. (And if I'm unsatisfied with the end, I can just write a fanfic for it, if I have enough motivation).

#tell me that you love me #tell me that you love me kdrama #kdrama #cha jin woo #jung moeun #the last two episodes destroyed me #but I love it very much #the ending is kinda mediocre #but it is okay I accept it #I will live forever for their soft love #someone please make a fandom tag in ao3 so I can write a fanfic about this soft couple's ending

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writeouswriter · 5 months

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Making out with Grady Hendrix’s book cover designer but physically fighting Grady Hendrix himself 😔

#horrorstör #my best friends exorcism #we sold our souls #grady hendrix #I’m putting it in the tag I’m sorry but #I judged these books by their cover hard and they let me down so badly #his cover designs are like a siren song for your eyes #before dashing you against the rocks (mediocre writing and misplaced raunch)

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fruitbat-art · 7 months

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here is the zine i made yesterday hehe im gonna put the whole thing under the cut because with the translations this post got a bit long

"my art is mediocre and thats ok!"

I'm a mediocre artist and I don't say this as if it were a bad thing.

My art isn't bad... But it isn't that good either.

This [sentiment] has been bothering me for a while but especially from a few months back, when I started posting my art on Instagram.

Sometimes I catch myself comparing myself to other artists my age

NEVER DO THIS

And I think:

'Why am I not as good as them?'

'How did they get this good?'

'???'

Despite knowing that art (and life in general) isn't a race, sometimes it's difficult to not feel like I'm falling behind.

"WAIT!!"

Am I happy with the art I make currently?

Not really...

But, at the end of the day, art is about expression and having fun and (despite the stress) I love every second of it.

Happy ending ?

#i love how this thing turned #like so so much #i might try making more zines in the future it was so fun #tbh i could write pages and pages about this feeling of mediocrity but unfortunately i only had 3 mini spreads lmao #but this topic would be more fitted for my diary i think #art #zine #art talk #which tag do i use here this isnt a drawing nor really a ramble so??#cams misc art #idk

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katkalis-the-horror-fanartist · 9 months

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Made a quick short writing thing of a reader sleeping with DJ Music Man for a night. Very short, but I had the urge to write it before I sleep, and i finished it, because this is how I wanna sleep- reader is gender neutral and honestly this is just written as some like...description kinda idk it's hard to explain but it's all under the cut!

Scenario: Sleeping in DJMM's room

You needed a spot to sleep in for the night. No details needed for why you couldn't just sleep at home though.

The huge DJ of the pizzeria is more than happy to take you to a comfortable resting spot. He accepts your request and slowly holds out his large hand, lowering it close enough to the floor for you to sit in the shallow indent of his palm. Then, he begins making his way into a large pipe inside the wall of the room, closing his fingers around you as a sort of large protective cage to prevent you from falling out anywhere.

It was only a minute or so of bellowing thuds of his hands on metal before he opens his hand, allowing you to walk on flat ground once again. Your eyes adjust to the light, though the warmth of the lighting's color is easy on the eyes as it is. Already at ground level, you take a step onto the fabric below as you take in the sight of the room he has released you in.

The room is only slightly larger than the DJ himself. Many types of cloths, drapes, fabrics, and blankets cover the floor. Vertical lights stretched upwards along the walls in lines glow orange, illuminating the room in their soothing warmth. The atmosphere is strangely therapeutic. You felt as if your entire being was wrapped in a soft ethereal embrace, one you could fall asleep in.

Music begins to emanate from the speakers on DJ's body, swelling only loud enough to fill the room with a complete and perfectly balanced theme. Electronic. Dreamwave. A song with waves of sound that they say helps humans sleep. He himself steps over you, casting a shadow across you completely before he settles himself at the far back end of the spacious chamber. A few pats of his hands on thick bedding as he makes sure his sleeping spot is at it's most comfortable. A single spin of his entire form, before he lowers his massive body down into the plush material.

Without prompting, he motions with a finger on one of his primary hands for you to walk over to him, and you do so. Before you even make it to him, he has already uncovered a pillow and two clean blankets from his hoard of fabrics. Against the ridge of his personally-made nest, he places the pillow down and gestures to it with his palm upwards and fingers out straight with each other. You respond to this by laying yourself down on the soft sheets below and resting your head on the pillow. Then, another hand of his enters your view as you lay down, both of the hands holding the same blanket in their thumbs and forefingers and draping it over you. They do the same with another, thinner blanket, presumably in case you get cold and need another layer.

Once you have your pillow and covers, DJ retracts both of his hands, releasing a bellowing, vibrating hum from his entire form. The sound waves reverberate through your very bones. The tone of it feels... "pleased."

You snuggle up in your bed that's been made for you for the night. Or perhaps you'll ask to sleep here every night. Before you thought things couldn't get any more comfortable, you're suddenly within a growing wall of various pillows and plushies that begin piling up on either side of you. Music Man casually places all sorts of plushies, from Moon to Chica, from Monty to Sun, all around you, along with pillows to form a sort of barrier as if to keep you from falling out of bounds of your cozy cradle.

You thank him out loud for his attention and compassion towards you, and his large head leans above you as he listens intently. Another soothing rumble throughout the area as he responds, his hand offering its index finger to you. You gingerly hug it, and his eyes form a replica of lowered eyelids, glowing a dull lavender. He enjoyed your reciprocation.

You both then focus on preparing yourself for sleep, both of you finding that perfect position. You close your eyes with a relaxed sigh. The lights on the walls become less and less visible, but before the room becomes completely dark, you hear what seems like the scuttling and pattering of small, robotic mechanisms. This sound surrounds you, and when you lift your eyelids and examine the sound source, you notice multiple mini music men of varying forms beginning to place themselves in multiple areas near the outer pillow walls of your sleep spot. A few give you quick but friendly glances, and the one that's closest to your head, the one you recognize from the vents, begins to gently play a low-volume, music box tune. It's a cover of the music playing from DJ, but music box. The sounds merge quite well and, after saying goodnight to all animatronics in the room, you drift off into slumber.

What you didn't completely notice before sleep, however, was that DJ's arm had lowered in a sort of wall around you AND the mini music men. All of his smaller occupants have an imitation of a bedroom wall, protected by their arachnid guardian.

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