#this is garbage but i had to force myself to write SOMETHING

[christinebloodwrittings]

I ran into this little darling who wanted this as a request, and I just couldn't help myself hehe, my Hobie Brown brainrot is huge xD

So I hope you enjoy it, I suck at writing his accent so, I'm sorry in advance hehe, and also Y/n is always the victim so let's shake things up a bit.

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, unwanted drug, p in v, oral, cursing, a very drugged Hobie.

Words: 2530

Summary: Everything was going great at the concert until he went against a very dangerous perfume.

You've never felt comfortable or safe among so many people, especially in a space as small as the bars where he usually plays. But there you were, supporting him as always.

At some point in the evening, thirst had invaded you, so you asked the bartender for some water or soda, who gladly served it to you and so far so good.

"Hey beautiful, how was it?" Hobie had pushed his way through the crowd and groupies to the chair where you'd cornered to watch him play. "Loud and protestant, perfect" with emotion he hugged you, pressing your whole body against his chest, his chin resting on your head.

"I'm goin' to go to the back, store some things with the band, I'll be back to pick you up in a bit, 'kay?" Despite the fact that nothing between you and Hobie was formalized, there was a lot of affection and consideration towards the other, however he always presented you as his friend.

And how much it hurt

He always came to your rescue when some jerk made a move on you, but after that you were just his friend, and he did it because he had your back, but nothing more.

That was really getting old.

Hobie made his way through the fans again, when a girl dressed in leather and a mini stopped him, one of her hands took his face, the other grabbed the back of his neck to force him to bend him down to kiss him, but he resisted, separated from the girl's hands with a push, and he moved away fast.

After managing to get past the stage, he tripped on his feet, his mind was all over the place and his spider-sense told him something was awfully wrong. A cold feeling caught on his neck, panic crawled up his spine, he put his fingers to the back of his neck, scooping up some of a watery, clear liquid, it had a nice smell so he just assumed it was the girl's cologne.

He was in denial, so he just wanted to think there was a raid outside and he´ll have to take you round the back so you wouldn't be hurt by mistake. He didn't exactly convinced himself but it was enough to get him a bit calmed through the whole packing the band stuff up.

Right at the end, when he was picking his makeup supplies off, his sense froze him up and made him look up, in the mirror he caught on the sight of the girl that had tried to make a move on him.

The fans were leaving, soon the place was empty, Hobie was taking a lot of time more than usual, thus why you began to worry and why you went to the dressing room to find him.

That was the moment when you saw his panic eyes and the girl attempting to get her tongue down her throat. "Get the fuck away from him, bitch!" you pulled her hair and punched her on the gut to get her out of movements.

"You're my savior" he put his arm around you, being that the only way he could make a decent step, "Get out of the way whore, it will last long after I'm finished with him, then you can get your way with him" she stood up hardly, but didn't approached further, since you got out a taser, "You know, I bet no one will miss you if I just shock your senses into oblivion and toss your bitch body into the garbage" she opened her eyes to your lashing and stood there.

With a few extra help from members of the band, they managed to get him to your place in one piece, you weren't going to let him go off alone in that state.

That's when you understood, she drugged him somehow. "It's okay, Hobs, let's get you in the shower" cold water seemed to be the less weird way to handle his condition.

His hand found yours, pulling by it you hit his chest, looking up you found his face all blushed and sweaty, "It's okay, it will wear itself off, just stay" you cupped his face with your free hand, he leaned over your touch with his eyes closed, "Please?" His voice was so smooth and whiny, never in your life have you seen him like that.

"I'll stay, let's get you into something more comfortable ok?" He nodded, lazily getting out of his leather jacket and vest, leaving you to slip away his shirt, "Woah baby, if ya' wanted to get me naked, you should've asked" he had a shit eating grin, ear to ear, "Shut up, you're out of your senses" you folded the shirt lazily and left it on a chair he has discarded on a corner, so did his pants and socks, it seemed to you that removing his underwear was going a little too far, so you ignored them.

You tried to guide him to the bathroom, but he just wouldn't move from the bed, "C'mon Hobs, let's go" he refused with a whine, so you leave him there to go fill up the tub in the meantime.

You figured he would be in a different disposition when you returned to the room. A couple of minutes went by, *he probably passed out asleep* you hoped, but as soon as you opened the door of the bathroom, the sound of his moans filled your ears.

"Ah~ Y/N~♡" you couldn't believe what was happening. Taking a quick peek at him you noticed his boxers were discarded somewhere in the room, and he was stroking himself, his rather large self.

And moaning your name, *Oh God, please tell me this is a test! * heat was crawling up from your legs to your face, his moans were incredibly sexy and erotic, that was going to be well fit material for a lot of nights in the future.

"Y/n please, I need you, pretty please darling~♡" He sounded so desperate. You stepped outside the bathroom, and as soon as his eyes caught sight of you, a loving smile was painted on his face.

"I'm in a tight conundrum" he fought with his own tongue to word that out coherently, but you understood, "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you" He shook his head, making grab gestures with his hands.

As soon as you were in within his reach, he pulled you into his lap, emitting a hiss when your pelvis brushed his hard dick. "Please, I need you" He peppered kisses under your jaw and cheek, every contact on his lips and his piercing made you shiver.

His hands found the hem of your shirt, toyed with it for a second before looking up into your eyes for permission, after your embarrassed nod, he pulled it off, carelessly taking your bra as well and throwing both items away.

He started by nibbling at your collarbone, leaving small red marks along his way up to your neck. "I've wanted to do this for a long time" He panted, biting softly at your earlobe making you shift on his lap.

"You're so beautiful, so sweet, so lovely, you're always there for me" he said before kissing you, taking full control of your mouth. His hand circled your waist and the other held your neck in place, making you melt into the kiss. He then tilted his head back a bit, taking in the way you looked.

The he pulled up your shirt, he was clumsy while at it, so you finished for him, the bra following it into the darkness of a corner. The festival of kisses and bites started from your neck to every inch of your collarbone, working his way down to capture a nipple in between his lips.

His hands rocked your hips against his bulge, making his voice sing with moans and sighs, calling your name.

"I need you to say it"

"What?"

"I love you too much, say I can do this"

"Do it Hobie"

He released you, reluctantly. You tried to put yourself in a comfortable position, so you got rid of your jeans, his eyes followed each of your movements, even more so when you stood next to him.

"Where do you want me?" He didn't think twice, he pulled you by the waist to accommodate you, with his muscular body on top of yours. It was kind of silly, saying that, but with the few sexual experiences you'd had, none of them 100 percent complete, you really didn't know what to say or do. He, even in his drugged and frenzied state, noticed your shivering hands and how much you avoided looking into his eyes.

"I wish I could make it slow and special for you, but I don't feel like myself" you agreed, it's what you could do, the truth, you were uncomfortable because of the situation, the heat, not that any of those factors made you forget to have a condom nearby.

As he sensually kissed your neck, his fingers worked to open you up, slow and steady movements, his thumb brushing against your clit from time to time. Your senses were being attacked simultaneously, his teeth and his mouth sucking at the skin of your neck, and his fingers caressing your G-spot with the dexterity of a guitar player. Your back arched against his torso, an opportunity he took to hold your waist with his arm and lead you to sit on his lap, his hand still pleasing.

"Hobs, I need you" you whined, he smiled, mouth still latching down your neck, leaving several red spots along the way. Your legs were straddling his hips as he helped you get down on his dick, the length and thickness made you squirm and stop midways, he always reassured you, “You’re doing it very good, my love, just a little bit more, I’ll let you accommodate to it” speaking sweetly, brushing your hair away from your face and caressing your cheek.

When it was all the way in, very painfully so, he didn’t made any single attempt to move or you on it, he wanted to wait for you to be ready. As soon as you were, giving that you were rocking your hips slightly, he started pulling you up and down at a slow pace.

Moans and whines were filling the room, “Fuck, you feel so good” he bit gently into your shoulder, “I’m gonna lay you down princess, I need a-“, you pointed to your night stand, “Prepared are we?” he purred as he softly put you down on the covers, grabbed the condom and put it on.

“You can be more aggressive if you need” your voice came out almost as a whisper, but he caught it anyways, “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just want it to be decent” he was holding back, “Hobie, we need to get the drug out, please” Bad way for you to find out, but he had a creative thought, without thinking twice, he put your hands on your head and used his webs to tie your wrists together. Obviously your thoughts were snatched away when he propped inside again, soon the fact that he was Spider-Punk was long forgotten.

His pace accelerated, your whole body tensed up and you just wanted to be connected to him, you just wanted to keep kissing him, hugging him, if it ended and you were never like that with him again, you wouldn't know what to do. You just wanted to be like this with him, hitting every place that mattered, sending electric shocks through your body.

At some point you seemed to have passed out, but the change of position woke you straight up. On your fours, his hands pushed his shaft right into you by your hips, then he pulled you up, his arm working like an anchor across your chest, which by the way, was covered in saliva, red spots and bite marks, and so will your back as soon as he is over with it.

He wasn’t behind with the hickeys, you subconsciously left him lots of open mouth kisses, bites, he was fairly happy with each and every one.

“I know you’re tired, my love, but I’m almost there” your moans didn’t even sounded as such, they were grunts, sloppy non sexy at all choked grunts. You guys started around eleven, by the time he was almost there the clock marked three in the morning.

He finally came inside the condom, the one that by some miracle stayed on and unbroken though all the abuse the thick shaft made in your insides. Speaking of which, he was considerate enough to come out of you carefully and lovingly accommodate your body into his.

“Thank you, love” he slurred the words, his body was so big next to yours, so he easily surrounded you, arms around you, legs intertwined, he wanted all you to be with all of him.  

“How do you feel?” your voice was hoarse, “Better, tired, you?” you made a sound, it confirmed to him that you were the same as him.

"I'm still very on, I wanna eat you out" he hugged you tightly, "Maybe let me sleep a bit and then you wake me up with your face in between my legs" he laughed at you, "I'll take you up on that, love".

Around seven pinches on the insides of your thighs woke you up, turns up he really was in between your legs, hickeys adorning both inner thighs, "Good mornin' luv" he wasn't drugged anymore, just horny and hungry, giving on how he was licking and grinning.

Your back arched as soon as your brain connected with the rest of your senses, "Hobie, jeez fuck! Too damn early" you whined, getting hold of his hair, "I just obliged to your wishes" the vibrations made the assault even more intense.

"Don't talk with your mouth full" he was kind of liking the slight yanking you were taking on his hair, furthermore the tremble down your legs as you came.

"I love your sounds" he crawled up your body, gently laying down on top of you, his weight never fully on you though, he was careful, and his head fell down on the crook of your neck.

"Thank you for last night" he laced his voice with kisses behind your ear, "No problem, now please for fucks sake, sleep" he chuckled at your groggy voice, "I meant it, by the way" given your lack of response he pulled his body off of you for a bit, just to get a fair look at you face when he spoke those words that died already to come off his lips again.

"I love you" and then he smiled.

"And I love you" somehow, him being all bare for you, your case as well, made the confession deeper.

"Just so you know, you're trapped now, I'm not letting you go now" his smirk made you giggle a little, "Good, there's just nowhere I rather be than here...with you".

The end.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hi! How are you doing? I was hoping I could request something with Poly!plastics x reader? After Cady gets brought into the plastics, the reader gets insecure and thinks that her girlfriends will replace her with Cady. She tries to hide it but after the three of talk about Cady on date night she snaps. How you end it is up to you, I was want Poly!plastics x reader to be endgame. Thank you 💘

Insecurities

omg im actually obsessed with this idea

|| poly!plastics x fem!reader

(i myself am poly)

|| Warnings: talks of insecurities, feeling leftout/replaced, some swearing, slight bullying of Cady (sorta?)

|| Summary: Reader feels left out when Cady joins the group: the girls don't notice right away. When date night rolls around and all they seem to talk about is Cady, Reader can't take it.

Requests open!

My requests are open, I'm just only writing when I have motivation to right now so it may take time for me to get to them. Like I think this fic almost took me a month to finish 🥲

~~~

To say you weren't happy about Cady joining the group would be... an understatement. You felt like all your girlfriends attention was suddenly on the new girl. You hate feeling left out and that's exactly how they were making you feel, even if they didn't realize it.

The five of you sat together at your usual lunch seat, Gretchen and Cady were talking, Karen was kind of just listening to them and occasionally throwing in some comment, Regina was focused on her cheese fries. You? You sat there awkwardly. Awkward around your own girlfriends because of Cady. The fact that none of them were even trying to talk to you. You couldn't take it.

You suddenly stood, holding your lunch tray. Which got their attention. You were about to leave when Karen called your name.

"Y/N? Where are you going?" Karen asked, a slight frown on her lips. You try to hide your insecurities and force out a smile, Gretchen narrows her eyes at you. She could always tell when something was off.

"I was just going to the bathroom." You state.

"With your lunch?" Karen looked confused.

You looked down at the lunch tray in your hands and then glanced at Cady, who was looking at you with concern while you were trying to hide the jealousy in your eyes.

"Oh, um, no I'm not hungry so I was gonna go throw it out then go to the bathroom." You quickly came up with a response, racking your brain for something that made sense. Though now you had to actually throw out your lunch and, truthfully, you weren't really all that hungry. So you felt fine with the lie.

Regina raised an eyebrow at you and seemed to share some look with Gretchen.

You ignored them and followed through with your lie. Heading to the nearest garbage, dumping your tray then putting the now empty tray with the rest before going to the bathroom. There you locked yourself in one of the stalls and sighed deeply, leaning against the back of the door.

Maybe you could have tried a little more to be social. But you didn't feel like you could connect with anything they were talking about. Cady had mostly been leading the conversation. You didn't quite know how to interact with her yet. The two of you didn't have anything in common, that you knew of. So it just always felt awkward to even try.

~~~

It was later that night, you and your girlfriends had planned a date that you'd been working on for months. You were excited it was finally happening. You were going to the theatres and then after all of you would dine at a fancy five star restaurant, all paid for by Regina though the rest of you did chip in what you could. Much to Regina's disliking. She loves spoiling her girls. fight me

As the four of you sat at the table, waiting for your food you found yourself just listening to the conversation again. Not being apart of it. They were talking about Cady. On date night. Fucking Cady. It made your chest twist and heart ache. You couldn't help but feel like in the short amount of time that Cady's been there she's replaced you. The feeling was killing you. You couldn't sit with it anymore. Before you could stop yourself...

"Seriously? Can't you guys shut up about Cady for one second? It's date night! This is supposed to be about us. Not her." You snapped, the table went quiet and their eyes were on you. Confusion quickly replaced with concern. Which then made you the confused one until you realized you were crying. When did you start crying?

"Oh my God!" Gretchen says, quickly reaching across the table and grabbing your hands. The four of you were situated so Regina sat next to you, Karen across from Regina, Gretchen next to Karen and across from you." We're so sorry, we didn't even..." She looks at Karen and then at Regina with a frown, clearly none of them had realized how you felt. Gretchen thought she had picked up on something weird earlier today, she didn't know if she had been overthinking that look you gave Cady but it turns out she was right. Gretchen sighs.

Regina drapes an arm around your waist and pulls you in close to her side, her nails trailing through your hair as she looks at you with a look you couldn't quite figure out. "Are you jealous?" Regina was always more blunt. Even with you.

"I don't... well, it's not really jealousy.. jealousy is definitely a part of it but it's like- I feel like Cady's replacing me." You try to explain your thoughts with a little struggle. There were so many going through your head that it was hard to jump on a single train of thought. So they all mixed together a bit when you spoke.

The three glance around at each other, seeming to have some silent conversation. Regina speaks up first. Her hold on your waist tightening a little but not in a way that was uncomfortable to you.

"Why the fuck would we replace you with her?"

You pause and blink, looking at Regina in confusion. You thought her and the others had been really close with Cady. You were so sure of it too. To hear Regina immediately dismiss the thought, it definitely surprised you. Were they not as close as you had assumed?

"What?" You reply, your confusion showing on your face. By now the tears had stopped flowing but the streaks remained.

"Why do you think we would replace you with Cady? We don't actually like her. We've been making fun of her." Regina states simply. That was news to you. They never really included you in their kittle schemes because they knew it wasn't your style, they respected that. Though sometimes you'd hear the stories.

"But you gave Cady those shoes?" Your head was beginning to hurt trying to figure all this out. If they didn't like Cady why was she even in the group? It didn't make sense to you.

"Because we thought it would be hilarious watching her try to walk in them. And it was." Regina shrugged, a slight smirk on her face as she glanced over at Gretchen.

Karen looked about as confused as you," wait. We don't like Cady?"

"Honey..." Gretchen looked at Karen with a soft gaze and rested one of her hands on her lower back, keeping the other in your hand.

Regina brought her focus back to you and kissed you deeply, hand moving from your waist to rest under your chin before she breaks the kiss. Smirking against your lips as she looks into your eyes.

"Better?" She whispered, you nodded your head. A blush coated your cheeks as you stared back into the blonde's eyes. She always managed to leave you speechless.

The rest of the date went by smoothly, your girls focused on making sure you were the center of attention for the entire date. Including you in conversation, always finding some way to touch you. By the time the four of you got to Regina's room, you were exhausted as you let yourself collapse onto her bed. Gretchen giggled as she watched you and was the first to lay down beside you, wrapping you in her arms and pulling you close. Karen came down on your other side, doing the same. Making sure her arms wrapped around both you and Gretchen. Regina took a picture of the three of you and posted it to Insta before joining you guys in bed. Fully laying herself on top of you with her arms around your hips as she planted a soft kiss to your jawline; which got a hum out of you in response. The four of you remained cuddled up with each other until you feel asleep.

Feeling much better than you did at the start of the day.

[eddo-tensei]

They had over four seasons.

Socqueline was in an arts and crafts store in Paris throughout the entire run of Miraculous. There was nothing that indicated she left Paris. Just that she was forced out of College Dupont. She was in a store that Marinette could probably walk or take a bus to so the latter could see her "best friend." This also could've been a place that Marinette hung out in to pursue her dream as a designer. This is a place that Marinette could've brought people like Alya, Mylene, Juleka, Rose, Alyx, and many others to. Yet we never got a scene like that, much less one where they got to meet Socqueline.

They had four seasons to implement this character into the show. Four seasons that all had a consistent count of 26 half-hour episodes, something that most cartoons these days WISH they had, along with some specials. They had all of that time and their only "hint" to Socqueline's existence until Season 5 was Marinette changing her hairstyle before the series.

This is not a character you just drop into a series. They had plenty of opportunities to introduce Socqueline and how important she was to Marinette. If she was this important to her, SHE SHOULD'VE BEEN IN THE SHOW FROM THE START. I don't care what justifications you have. This is garbage and given that this is supposed to be for a character who was SUPER important to Marinette as a person, it's even worse. At most, beyond the fake Ladybug episode, it feels like the main purpose of her character is to shoehorn in a ridiculous incident into Chloe's list of crimes. An incident that doesn't even make sense even when she's there. For someone who's supposed to be Marinette's idol, it sure is interesting that she wasn't even a presence in the show until she cosplayed as Marinette's alter-ego in SEASON FUCKING FIVE.

And before you cry and tell me I'm being mean, this is not me "hating someone who protected Marinette with her life." This is me hating the writers shoehorning in a character that was supposedly super-important to the main character and then treating her like a fucking guest star. They made her as a narrative tool to justify Marinette's questionable behavior. That's not good and if this was actually planned from the start, that's even worse. You shouldn't be proud that they basically left a character in the backburner for four seasons (over a HUNDRED EPISODES) and then plant her in Season 5 without even giving us a hint of her existence beforehand. That is fanfic tier writing. I know this because I write it myself.

Please have better standards for your shows.

[silentglassbreak]

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Just having a lovely good time with this. We are getting there, I swear it. 😘 (I promise there’s method to my madness.) Also HEAVILY recommend listening to the chapter song title - especially toward the end of this chapter. Levitate by Sleep Token.

Warnings: No smut today. But I fucking cried writing this chapter, and I hope you do too (I'm so sadistic). Sadness. Graphic descriptions of vomiting and overall being sick. Fluffy, heartache chapter. OH and graphic depictions of violence and blood (in a dream setting, don't stress).

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc @knivesforapro @diabolicdiatonics

Part 7 - Levitate

At what point do you start drawing lines in the sand? I asked myself that question over and over the past several weeks since the party. Who was fucking with who anymore? I'm certain neither of us really knew the answer.

Mileena was still seeing Justin, our mishap in the bathroom on the 4th being unspoken of again. It never happened. I kept trying to remind myself of that, each time I saw her, the only times our paths crossing being during pick-ups and drop-offs of Addison.

I had fully expected her to become scarce, but to my surprise, she was letting business go on as usual. Even being around more often. Part of me wanted to hope that meant she was slowly inching her way back to me, some undying need inside of her not being capable of keeping a distance. That thought was shut down, however, when Nick mentioned that he was asked to go on a double date with her, Laura, and the Ken doll (my favorite nickname for him).

That came about two weeks after the party, and I just shrugged it off, assuming that meant Mileena had truly forgotten about the bathroom, or was forcing herself to.

Still, she showed up, sometimes spending half an hour or more at the house when dropping off Addie, making small talk with me, once in a while even flirting. It was casual, comfortable, and for some reason, it didn't bother me to know that she was likely fucking that other guy. Something in my gut just told me to be patient. Good things come to those who wait.

So that is exactly what I did. I gave her room to exist, letting myself exist somewhere near her being good enough for me most days. In all honesty, the lack of pushing made some space for a very good friendship that we never gave the chance to grow before. Sure, the attraction was clear, but she started telling me things; things that I didn't get to hear before.

'Nick and Laura are gag-worthy. It's honestly kind of annoying.'

'I'm going to go back to work soon. I got a job offer, but the last two years off have been so heavenly.'

'I miss Washington. We need to take Addie up there to visit Dad.'

She kept throwing that word around. We. I never wanted to bring it up. Never wanted to spook her. Rather, I stood there and listened to her most times, smiling softly at her, loving the way the light filled her eyes when she was excited, or she came in close for a hug whenever she was sad. I took every second. I accepted it graciously, happy to exist.

Today, however, was not a good day. Today, I felt like a bin of hot, rancid, putrid garbage. We were stood in the green room of a venue in Buena Park, getting ready for a pop-up show, when I felt an overwhelming sense of nausea hit me. All day, I had felt off, but had brushed it off as the heat, stress from the show, and exhaustion hitting me all at once. I had slept most of the day, working to get myself out of the funk, trying like hell to prepare for the show, but I couldn't shake it.

Now, feeling my insides threatening to make their way out, my eyes darted around the room frantically, eyes falling on a nearby trash can. I bolted for it, collapsing onto my knees before emptying everything in my stomach into the bin, heaving painfully.

After successfully spitting out the last of the vomit, I sat back on my heels, trying to breathe deeply. My episode had caught Jolly's eye, and he ran over, face cringing at the sight.

"Dude, what the fuck?" I pointed at a stack of napkins on the table behind him, and he handed me a few. I wiped my mouth.

"I don't know, man. I was good, and then I just had to hurl." I was trying to determine if I was done puking, my stomach still rolling around.

"Eat something bad?" Nick had joined us now, hands in his pockets.

"Fuck, man, no idea. I guess." I shrugged, tossing the napkins in the can.

"Do we need to cancel? If so, we need to let Matt know now." Jolly's voice was concerned.

I shook my head. "Nah, I'm good. I just need a minute."

"You sure?" Nick raised a brow at me, and I stood up.

"Yeah. You guys got any gum?"

Four songs. I made it that far. I worked so hard, swallowing all of the saliva building in my mouth, keeping my face even. But as soon as we hit Glass Houses, and I had to start screaming, I had to run off stage, emptying my stomach once again into a trash can off of the side. I had thrown my mic hastily on the stage, making it clear that my abrupt exit wasn't planned.

Jolly, still vigorously playing the music, repeating the same riff, stepped off to the side and gave me a glance. I was kneeling, gagging dryly into the can. I saw him motion for everyone to stop. The music and lights cut sharp, and I leaned my head on the cool rim of the metal can, breathing heavily.

Folio stood over me. "Noah?" I looked up at him.

"I can't. I'm so fucking sorry."

He was shaking his head. "No, bro. You're fucking sick."

My body was covered in a slick, disgusting sweat, but I was still shivering profusely. "I'm freezing, dude."

Folio looked up. "Uh, hang on." He jogged off to the side of the stage, returning with my coat that I had discarded after the first track. "Here."

I stood up and pulled it on, not feeling much relief, my skin screaming as the fabric brushed over it. I took a moment to calm my body before walking back out to the stage, the crowd cheering as I did.

I picked up my discarded microphone and waved. "Well," I put a hand on my hip and huffed a laugh out. "I'm so sorry about that, guys."

The crowd cheered for me, but I was still fighting the feeling of another impending puking spell.

"So, I think I'm sick." I chuckled, and I saw the guys shaking their heads, smiling. Nick was already taking his bass off, and Jolly was walking over next to me. "I'm so sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to finish the show tonight, folks."

It was met with cries of sadness, and I frowned. "We're so sorry." Jolly's voice came through his own mic. "But we will schedule a make-up show. We've just got to keep this guy away from the gas station sushi."

Nick and Folio laughed with the crowd, but I just gagged, pressing it back down. Jolly slapped me hard on the back, which made me flinch.

"We're going to get this guy into bed, guys. But, before we go, we thank you all for being here!" Jolly hollered, and the crowd cheered.

"And can we give it up for Noah, guys?!" Nick hollered out, causing the venue to erupt. I just gave an embarrassed nod and began stalking off stage, feeling another wave oncoming.

-

Nick drove me home last night, walking me inside to make sure I got into bed properly. I only managed to get my pants, shoes, and shirt off before I folded into bed.

"Alright, bro, I've set a bowl on the nightstand, in case you don't make it, and I've got a water bottle next to you." But I was already half asleep when he left.

I was awoken to the doorbell going off, and I groaned, my back muscles screaming at me, and my stomach rolling inside me when I swung my legs off the bed. My head pounded hard at the sensation of sitting up. I felt truly horrific.

I stepped downstairs slowly, my body aching with each drop of my feet. I rubbed at my eyes against the sunlight, opening the front door.

Mileena stood in front of me, grocery bags in hand, and staring brightly at me, her faced etched with worry.

My eyes widened when I realized. "Oh, fuck! It's Sunday!"

She shook her head. "Oh no, I didn't bring Addie. I didn't want to risk giving her the plague."

I rolled my eyes as she walked past me into the house, closing the door behind her. "Then why are you here? Don't you not want to get it?"

She waved me off, heading for the kitchen. "I'll be fine."

She was back after a second, and I hadn't moved from where I stood by the door, focusing on staying upright as the room started to spin. Her eyes examined my face, a look of sympathy on hers.

"Oh Noah," She rubbed a hand on my shoulder. "you look like shit."

I smirked, my eyes nearly closed. "Thank you for noticing, I feel like it too."

I yawned, stopping it short when I felt as though I may gag again.

"How'd you know I was sick?"

"Nick called Laura last night. Told us about the show. I almost came over then, but Nick said you knocked out pretty quick."

I opened my eyes, then, giving her an inquisitive look. "So, you're here because...?"

She huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "To make sure you don't die?"

Leena was trying so hard to be convincing, but I still smiled playfully at her. "Oh sure. You're just here cause you couldn't stand the thought of not seeing me."

She rolled her eyes at me, smacking a hand gently on my chest, which made me whine, rubbing the spot. My skin was so sensitive.

I saw her face flinch, realizing I was tender. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry." Her fingers rubbed the spot she hit, but I wiggled away, the contact uncomfortable.

She then pressed her palm to my chest, scrunching her brows. "Jesus, Noah." Mileena grabbed my face and pulled me down, pressing her lips to my forehead - something she always did when checking for a temperature. "Fuck Noah! You're burning up!"

Scurrying into the kitchen, then back to me in a flash, she had the thermometer in her hand, brushing it across my forehead. Everything was happening in slow motion for me, the room still threatening to turn on it's side at any given moment.

"Fuck! 104.9 degrees!" I just nodded dryly, not fazed. "Noah, you may need to go to a doctor."

I groaned, walking over to the couch and sitting slowly. "I just want to sleep."

She followed me, pulling my legs up to stretch on the couch. Her hands grabbed the blanket I kept on the back of it, stretching it out over me. "Fine, but I'm staying with you a while. I don't like that fever."

I scoffed. "I'm not too fond of it, myself."

She grabbed the remote and turned the television on. "What do you want to watch?"

I moaned, absolutely suffering. "Don't care. Whatever you want."

She took up space on the other end of the sectional, tucking her feet underneath her and scanning to Hulu.

"Just nothing about food." I felt my face begin to turn green, and she noticed. She ran to the bathroom, grabbing the trash and placing it near my head on the floor. "Thanks, babe."

I watched her still, glancing at me, wanting to correct me. It was a reflex that I hadn't meant to say, but in my current state, I couldn't find the willpower to care.

She must've known, because she just turned up her lips, and softened her eyes. "Of course."

I let my eyes fall closed, my head calming while I heard the opening to Grey's Anatomy play.

I woke up to a lurch in my stomach, my eyes flying open, and my hand instinctively grabbing the trash, retching hard into it. Not much had come out, mostly bile, as I hadn't held down anything for about thirty-six hours. I opened my eyes, bleary with involuntary tears, and saw the end of the couch empty, but the TV still playing.

"Oh, Noah!" Her feet tapped the floor softly as she ran into the living room.

She circled the coffee table, and sat next to me on the couch, her hand rubbing small circles on my back. Setting the can down, I leaned back on the couch, fighting to get air in my lungs.

"What the fuck?" I grit through my teeth. Her hand was now on top of mine, her thumb massaging into the tattoos on my skin.

"I know. Must be a bad bug."

I leaned down, grabbing the edges of the bag in the can, preparing to get rid of it. Her hands came in, shooing mine away.

"I'll get this. Go brush your teeth."

I stood, running a hand through my sweat-soaked hair, and realized I was still in just my boxers. It hadn't even occurred to me, too sick to realize how gross I must look.

"Sorry you have to see me like this."

She snorted, tying the bag up. "Noah, you watched me give birth. I think we're okay."

I smiled at her tiredly. "You don't have to stay. What about Addie?"

She walked to the front door, slipping on my slides so she could walk outside to the can. "Uncle Jolly and Uncle Folio took her out for the day. Laura told me to stay as long as you need."

I was sick, exhausted, and half-dead, but I couldn't help what came tumbling out of me.

"And what if I never let you leave?"

Her hand hovered over the door knob, her neck twisting so she could look at me, a sad expression on her face. "Go brush your teeth. Your breath is rank."

I smiled. It wasn't a 'no' or a 'shut up', so it was progress.

"I think I'm going to shower, actually."

She just nodded before disappearing outside to dispose of the garbage.

I climbed the stairs carefully, lightheaded. I walked straight into the bathroom, turning the water to scalding, and stripped off my underwear. I glanced in the mirror, cringing at the sight. My eyes held dark, grey circles around them, my hair was visibly greasy, and my lips were pale and chapped.

Real sexy, Sebastian.

While I waited for the water to get hot enough to melt my skin, I brushed my teeth, working hard not to gag again. Once I spit the last of the toothpaste out, I stepped into the hot water and took a moment to adjust. I had a feeling my fever had broken, as my skin didn't hurt quite so badly.

I took time to scrub my body, letting my body calm as I felt the previous day rinse off of me. I quickly washed my hair, not even bothering with conditioning or anything extra. Then, I just stood there, letting the warm water wash over my back, my forehead leaning against the cool tile, zoning out while I breathed deeply.

"Hey." I heard her voice, which I didn't react to. "You alive in there?"

I flipped the handle, turning the water off. My hand grabbed the towel on the hook, pulling it in and wrapping it around my waist before opening the curtain. She stood in the doorway, and I heard her inhale a sharp gasp when her eyes caught me standing, my hair dripping down my face. I flipped it back and eyed her.

"I feel like death."

Her eyes were blown wide, and her lips parted slightly, not responding. Normally, I'd be taking full advantage of the moment. However, I was sure my stomach couldn't handle any sudden movents.

"I, uh," She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "I brought some Zofran. We need to get you to hold something down."

I stepped out of the shower, sighing. "If you think it'll help."

She held a hand out, a small white pill in the palm. I walked over, picking up the tablet and holding it on front of me.

"How do I know you're not drugging me?"

She pursed her lips, smirking. "You don't."

I shrugged nonchalantly, and dry swallowed it.

Standing inches from her, smiling mischievously. "How's my breath?"

Leena grinned earnestly, then. "Better." She lifted a hand to the back of my neck, pulling my forehead down to her lips again. She hummed in approval. "That's better too. Now c'mon," She tugged at my wrist, pulling me out of the bathroom. "let's get you dressed and into bed."

I took note of the sweats, underwear, and t-shirt laid out on the bed. I also noticed the blanket being fresh.

"I changed the sheets for you. They were still damp from you sweating all night. I set up the trash can next to the bed, water on the nightstand. You need to drink it." She was using her Mom voice now, which had me staring at her, amused. "When you're ready to try eating, I've got Saltines, cheese, and a few different soups."

Eyes boring into her, I couldn't help but grin. "I appreciate you, Mileena."

The look on her face told me she was not troubled by any of her efforts. "You know I don't mind." She scanned the room, and began turning around. "I'll let you get dressed."

"Are you leaving?"

She stared at me, her eyes sparkling. "Do you want me to?"

A tinge of red crept up my neck, suddenly shy. "I mean, no?" Breathing out a chuckle, I picked up the underwear, letting the towel drop. Her eyes only flashed down to me for a split second, her throat swallowing hard. "But I get if you need to get back to Addison."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "No," She had her lips held tight together. "I checked in with Laura. Addie's fine. She said I can stay however long."

I nodded. "I've got pants on now." My words were lighthearted, finding humor in the fact that she was trying to preserve my modesty, as if she hadn't seen it all before.

"I figured I'd start disinfecting the living room while you napped."

I sat down hard on the bed, slipping the shirt over my head and wincing, the sensitivity coming back.

"Or, you could watch TV with me."

She stared at me, as if I was insane. "Is that such a good idea?"

I leaned back, pulling myself under the comforter and sinking down into the mattress.

"I mean, if you don't want to catch this crap, I don't blame you."

Sitting next to me on the edge of the bed, she laid a hand on my stomach softly. "I told you I'm not worried about that."

I laughed. "Well, you don't have to worry about me trying to come onto you. I get nauseas just breathing. I couldn't imagine what having sex would do."

She let out a hard cackle, smiling with all of her teeth. It was a nice sight to see, even on the brink of death.

"Well," I could tell she was weighing her options. "I guess it's fine. Mind if I borrow some pants? Jeans aren't exactly comfortable."

I just gestured to the dresser. She knew where to find everything. She slipped a pair of joggers out of the drawer, stepping into the closet to change. After, she came over to the bed, her side, and sat on top of the blankets, pushing her pillow up against the headboard, and flipped the TV on.

"Still no requests?" I just shook my head. She started Supernatural, picking up where her and I had left off on the last season, sitting back and watching the screen intently.

After a few minutes, I rolled onto my side, facing her, in a desperate attempt to ease the hard ache in my diaphragm. My body felt sore from dry heaving and the virus that crept through my veins. Eventually, I grew frustrated with the uneasiness each position had me in, growling.

"Come on." She motioned for me to scoot closer, pulling her legs under the covers and half-laying on the pillow. I moved myself to lay my head on her stomach, arm draped over her middle. Her fingers began running through my hair, nails scraping gently over my scalp the way she knew would have me snoozing quickly.

I buried my nose into her shirt, breathing easily. "Hey Leena?"

"Hmm?" She was into the show, but I still couldn't help myself.

"How would Justin feel about us just cuddling?" I smiled, reminiscing of the first time we cuddled on her couch, two years ago.

She snorted, clearly remembering exactly what I was referring to.

"He'll live. You may not. Priorities."

"So I take priority, huh?" My voice was slightly muffled against her, but I was warm all over thinking about it.

"You're the father of my child, Noah. And my best friend. Of course you do."

My hand squeezed her side in a sad attempt for a hug. She gripped my hair a touch tighter at the root, earning her an appreciative moan from me. So fucking relaxing.

"You should get some sleep."

"Are you and him still...a thing?"

I felt her chest heave. "Is that really a good conversation for right now?"

I raised an eyebrow she couldn't see. "We're best friends, right? Just pretend I'm Laura or something."

She laughed at that. "No can do, babe. Laura's prettier than you."

I waved a finger in the air in front of us. "Nuh-uh."

Her body shook with laughter.

"Ah Noah, insufferable as always."

I could only hum at her, my arm falling back to her side.

"You can tell me, Leena. I won't get mad."

Her voice was careful. "Kind of."

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly that, Noah. Kind of." She sighed. "I like him, but..." She trailed off.

"But what? He’s not as dreamy as you had originally expected?" I smirked at my words, which came out in my voice.

But her words were somber.

"He's not you."

My face fell, processing what she had said.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Her fingers pet my hair softly now, smoothing it down. "Get some sleep, babe. I'll be here."

Even with the firecrackers exploding inside of my chest, the overwhelming exhaustion was taking over, blurring my vision. Sleep overtook me quickly, my eyes closing while her hands soothed me into oblivion.

-

"I don't love you, Noah. I don't think I ever did."

"She's never going to be with you again."

I pulled at the metal shackles around my wrists and ankles, screaming at the top of my lungs behind the leather bound around my mouth. My skin burned from all over, unable to breathe in enough air to fight any harder.

"This is how you die, Noah. Alone. No happiness. No dignity. No family. You're pathetic." Leena was stood inches from my face, Justin just behind her, staring wickedly.

"She's mine now, bitch."

The veins in my neck strained as I tried to bite down on the bind in my mouth, my flesh bleeding as I pulled against the steel holding them to the table I laid on.

Justin picked up an instrument off of the tray, a long, razor-like blade that looked medieval.

"You deserve this, Noah. For being such a fucking failure." The laugh that pressed out of her was maniacal, bouncing off the hard walls of the dark room. "Addison will never have to see how fucking sad and horrid her father was."

Justin stepped over to me, using one hand to rip the tank top I wore. I pulled harder as he lowered the blade over my stomach.

He smiled at me. "I hope you didn't pay much for these tats, dude, cause they're about to come off."

My eyes bulged, my chest heaving as I shook my head hysterically.

The blade sunk deep into my skin, a sharp, piercing burning flashing over me as I watched the blood pouring out of me.

My screams were wet and desperate, tears flowing down the sides of my face into my hair. I stared at Mileena, begging her to stop this, but she just smiled at me, her yes dark.

"Oh Noah! You're doing great!" Her words were all venom, and I couldn't breathe now, a weight pressing on my chest. I looked up to see Justin pressing his palm down as he dug the blade in deeper, piercing my organs.

Blood pooled in my throat, and I tried spitting it, only for it to fall back down into my mouth, making me choke.

"Noah!" Mileena clapped, smiling wildly. "C'mon Noah!"

"Noah! Noah, wake up!" I felt my body shaking. "Babe! Wake up, honey!"

I startled, my eyes snapping open, and sat up abruptly. My eyes scanned for the trash can, grabbing it and lifting it into my lap, violently throwing up into the bag. I could feel the tears coming out of eyes, and I lifted my head, my body still shaking with sobs.

"Baby," Her hand was on the back of my neck, her voice calm in my ear. "it's okay. Let it out."

Heaving again, I ejected any stomach contents I had before taking a few deep, hard breaths.

"Done?" After a few seconds, I nodded. "Okay, let me take this."

She grabbed the can and stood off the bed, walking back into the bathroom. Returning with toilet paper in her hand, she tore some and handed it to me to wipe my face.

She crawled into my lap, pulling my face into her chest, as I cried hard.

Usually, I try to be masculine about it, crying quietly, privately. However, I was still so shaken by the nightmare, that I let myself wrap my arms around her, wetting her shirt with my hot tears.

She shushed me, rubbing calming circles on my back until I was able to breathe evenly again.

"Bad dream, huh?" I only nodded in response, unable to speak. "Yeah, fever dreams are the worst."

After several long moments, I shifted so she could scoot off of me, standing and heading into the bathroom, running my toothbrush over my tongue and teeth again, washing the taste of stomach acid out of my mouth.

I came back to the bed, pulling her back into me.

"I'm sorry."

We were laid together, tangled on top of the blankets, and she giggled.

"Don't apologize for having a bad dream. You can't control that."

"It was so bad."

She reached a hand up under my shirt, splaying her fingers out on my chest. "Sounded like it. You started screaming."

"Ugh, I'm sorry."

Rather than lecturing me again for apologizing, she just hummed.

"I've got you, babe."

I noticed Supernatural was still on. "How long was I out?"

"About two hours. I think I dozed off a little, too." She traced my skin with a fingertip. "You think you want to try munching some crackers? You're dry heaving so bad because you don't have anything to throw up."

I sighed hard. "I guess."

Another hour, and I was sitting up on the bed, breaking the crackers into four and taking at least fifteen minutes to eat each one. My stomach didn't like it, but needed it. I had earned a love/hate relationship with a sleeve of Saltines, and that's just fitting for my whole fucking life, isn't it?

Mileena was eating a sandwich she had ordered from her favorite spot, pulling pickle slices off of it and popping them in her mouth. We both watched the screen intently, making odd and end comments about the movie we watched.

"This isn't nearly as good as the first one." She spoke around her bite of food.

I shook my head. "Nah. The first Nun was actually a little creepy." I pointed at the TV. "This one is kind of boring, actually.

"Agreed." Leena popped another pickle in her mouth.

I smirked at her. "I still don't get that. Why not just eat them on the sandwich?"

She stuck her tongue out, a perfect round pickle slice sat in the center, and crossed her eyes at me. I stuck my fingers out to pinch her tongue, but she sucked it back in quickly, giggling at me.

Although my stomach still hurt, and wasn't pleased that I had filled it with six crackers and a half of a water bottle, I felt a slight energy surge, so I didn't want to try falling back asleep yet. Not after my last nap. I shuddered at the thought.

Her eyes fell on me, noticing my shiver. "You want to talk about the dream?"

I shook my head, looking down at the cracker I was breaking. "It's fading anyway."

Mileena raised an eyebrow at me. "Mkay, well you let me know if you change your mind." She turned her attention back to the movie.

"What time do you have to go?"

She stood off the bed, balling up the paper from her sandwich, and tossing it in the trash can. "I called Laura after you woke up, and she told me I was fine to stay over if needed. Addie has been really good today, and tomorrow her and Nick are taking the baby to the aquarium."

Expressionless, I tried not to let the hope swell too much in my chest.

Still, I croaked out. "Slumber party?"

She laughed, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door. "Oh sure! We can paint nails and have a pillow fight!" She hollered from behind the door.

"I'm into it!" I yelled back.

"Yeah, well I'm all yours, then."

I smiled triumphantly. If I had known this was how to keep her around, I would've been licking doorknobs ages ago.

She returned, perching back on the bed. Her eyes glanced over to me comfortably, a smooth smile on her face.

"Leena?" She looked back at me over her shoulder. "Seriously, have you told him you're here?"

Her face fell, her gaze dropping to the remote in her hand. "I haven't."

I huffed, leaning back. "Maybe you shouldn't."

Her eyes looked up at me from under her lashes. "Can I be honest with you, Noah?"

My face twisted into a frown. "I expect nothing less."

She turned completely, facing me, and her legs crossed underneath her.

"I'm not good at this." She gestured between us.

I raised a brow. "What do you mean?" I looked over to the nightstand and down at my crackers. "Being a doctor? Could've fooled me."

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "No, dork." She looked back down out her hands. "Being broken up."

My head leaned back against the headboard. "Ah."

"I just," She pressed her lips together. "I miss you. And that makes it so hard, because I know you miss me too. You tell me all the time."

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. "I do."

"I want to be with you all the time. I think about it all day, every day."

I wouldn't dare interrupt, despite the increasing surge I had to kiss her, touch her, hold her. Anything.

"I damn near talk myself into coming home every day, Noah." Her eyes were getting wetter, and I just wanted to press my lips to her forehead. "But then I remember. Being alone."

My heart twitched.

"I don't know. Justin is...good." Ouch. Didn't need to know that. "He has a good job. He likes me, so much." She rolled her eyes. "He's good-looking, funny. He likes everyone. He respects the hell out of you." Shocking, truly. The feeling wasn't at all mutual.

"But," Her hands fell flat on the bed, a deep breath filling her. "I don't feel what I do when I'm with you."

My face was curious. "And that is?"

"Alive." She stood up then, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the bed. My eyes followed her every move.

"Noah, I spent a long fucking time just...breathing." She stopped, eyes boring into me. "But then I met you, and I felt like something inside me woke up. Like I had been on autopilot, but then, suddenly, I was driving again. At a hundred miles an hour."

I smirked.

"Even now, after all this time, I feel so drawn to you. Like a magnet, or gravity? Maybe that's the same thing, I have no fucking clue."

"It's not. Continue."

She narrowed her eyes at me, but continued pacing. "Either way. I can't find that feeling with him."

She sat on the bed then, right next to me.

"It's like that feeling of being on a roller coaster, when your blood is on fire, and your heart is racing? But then you get off of it? And everything goes back to normal? Do you know what I mean?"

"I do."

"The second I left your hotel room that night, it was like I stepped off the coaster. And for a while, I loved that. It was relieving, not knowing when it was going to drop. It was nice to know that I finally had control." A tear rolled down her cheek. "But then...I hated it. I felt like I was at a standstill."

I lifted my hand, wiping the tear from her cheek, using the other to rest on her shoulder.

"But every time I saw you," Her voice cracked, wet. "it was like I was awake again; alive."

She shook, a cry breaking through her. I pulled her, then, bringing her in close to me. I held one arm around her body, locking her in close to my chest. My other holding the back of her neck, squeezing gently to comfort her as she cried.

"I got you, Leena." I whispered in her ear. "I'm right here."

Her hands gripped my shirt tight, legs pulled up underneath her.

"Babe," I pulled her up so I could look into her eyes. "I know this is so hard. But it's truly whatever you want. Whenever."

I pulled her back down.

"I'm always here, just for you."

She laughed then, a sarcastic sound. "Noah, I can't ask you to sit around and wait for me to figure my shit out."

"You don't have to."

This made her cry harder, and I squeezed her tight.

"I love you Mileena. More than life itself."

Her voice was strained. "God, I love you so much, Noah." She cried between her words. "I miss you so much it hurts."

I felt my own tears brewing. "I know. I do too." I inhaled hard, trying to hold my own hurt back behind my hard exterior. "Every day. Every moment."

"Can we just pretend for today? Can we just act like nothing ever happened? And be us? Please, I'm so fucking tired. I just need one fucking day." Her hands were pulling at me, desperate to get closer.

I wrapped both arms around her in a tight grip.

"Of course we can, baby." I spoke into her hair. "Anything you want, my love."

[lunamadhatter99]

My safe place

SteveHarringtonxfem!readerxEddieMunson

Summary: something bad happens after a party, but you don't want to make your two boyfriends worry.

Warning: mention of rape, slight panic attack.

I got this idea for a little while... and I wanted to write something for both Steve and Eddie. Hope you like it😅 ❤️

Having two boyfriends sounds like fun, right?

Yeah... it is. Most of the time.

For example, double the cuddles, double the attention and double the fun too.

But it also mean double the effort in not making them worry.

I've been with Eddie 'the freak' for almost 4 years, then Steve came along too. This three way relationship is still new for them, so they're still trying to figure their 'side' of the relationship out, but it's going well so far.

The most evident thing they have in common is that they both care a lot about me and worry for the smallest thing, which is sweet, but sometimes it makes it hard for me.

Like tonight.

Steve's parents are away for the summer, apparently, so Eddie and I will stay with him as he offered.

I just came back from a party I was with Nancy. She left at some point with Jonathan so I just spent most of the time with some journal friends from school before walking to Steve's.

That's when I run into Jason and his friends...

-----------

I try not to make any noise as I enter Steve's house, hoping both him and Eddie are already asleep.

I try to keep my breath steady, but my body refuses and just keeps shaking.

I take off my torn jacket amd torn thighs and throw them in the garbage.

The lights are out so maybe they really are asleep. So I slowly walk upstairs to check in the bedroom.

I find them laying in the bed, holding hands with a small empty space between them, for me probably. They always insist on me being in the middle so they 'can protect me better' as they always put it.

I sadly smile and just head to the bathroom and lock the door behind me.

I take a deep, shaky breath and just fall on the floor letting out a sob I held back since that.

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

I just cry for what felt like an eternity. When I feel like I have no tears left, I stand up and get in front of the sink.

I wash my face and look at myself in the mirror.

Fuck.

It definitely looks like I've been crying.

I take a deep breath and then I heard the doorknob being moved, that makes me jump a little.

"Sweetheart, is that you?"

Steve.

"Yeah" I quickly say, hoping he doesn't notice the tremble in my voice.

"You just got back?" He sounds sleepy.

"Yeah" I say, quickly again.

"You had fun?"

"Yeah"

"Are you okay?" He starts to get worried.

Fuck.

"Yeah" I curse myself for repeating the same thing... with the same tone... not suspicious at all.

"Can I come in, sweetheart?" He asks, trying again to open the door.

I take a deep breath, swallowing down a sob threatening to escape.

"I'll be out in a second, love" I tell him.

"I'll be here" he tells me.

I quickly check myself again in the mirror. It looks like I'm tired now. Which is true. Maybe I can make it believable.

I take another deep breath, once again and unlock the bathroom door and step out. I find Steve leaning on the opposite wall.

Once he looks up to me he immediately opens his arms to hug me.

I unconsciously tense at the contact.

He notices.

"Hey.. you alright?" He lets me go to look at my face.

"Yeah.. uh... I'm just tired" I say with a forced smile.

"Are you su-"

"Yes, Steve. I'm just tired. Danced a lot with Nance" I try to chuckle to make the story more believable.

"Okay... okay" he's not convinced, I can tell. "Come to bed?"

"I'll make myself a tea first." I tell him "you go, don't worry."

"I can keep you company" he offers "Eddie's just completely gone. He won't notice to be alone for a few minutes"

"Oh.. no, no, love. Please you look already asleep" I try to joke "go to bed, I'll be there in a few."

"Are you sure you're okay?" He tries again.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just trying to avoid a headache tomorrow morning"

"Okay.. but if you need anything, anything, call me" he kisses my cheeks and I start to walk downstairs again.

I didn't lie, I'm gonna make some tea, but I have no intention in getting in bed with them.

Not tonight. Not after what happened.

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

I slept on the couch. Even if 'slept' is not the correct word to use, it would implie I actually got to sleep.

I get up pretty early and decide to make breakfast for Eddie and Steve.

After a while I hear footsteps coming downstairs.

"Good morning, my darling" Eddie greets me.

"Morning, my love"

He immediately comes to hug me from behind and I, once again, unconsciously tense up.

"What's wrong?" He immediately ask.

"Nothing" I smile to make it more convincing.

"Yeah, she did the same with me when she got back from the party" Steve explains as he comes into view.

"Is something wrong, love?" Eddie asks again. 

I open my mouth to answer him, but Steve cuts me off.

"She didn't even sleep in the bed with us tonight"

"I did" I try to convince them. 

"No, you did not" Steve says, using a sweet tone. "What happened, sweetheart?"

"Nothing" I say with a nervous laugh. "I mean I'm probably just a little stressed for, you know, the project with that journal course I told you about. It's probably that. Don't worry your pretty little heads"

Eddie goes to take my hand and I instinctively flinch away.

"It's not some stupid project the problem here." He states, concern evident in his voice.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Steve comes closer, but not too much.

"N-nothing... I... I'm just... uh..." my eyes start watering, I blink the tears away as much as possible "I'm just stressed. Nothing bad happened."

I get back at making the pancakes mixture avoiding their eyes.

"Y/n... we... we just want to help" Eddie tells me. I hate hearing his voice breaking like this.

I sigh shaking my head.

"At least tell us what we can do to make you feel better. Anything." Steve too tries.

"We just want to take care of you"

We just wanna take care of you.

Those words...

I uncontrollably start to cry again, falling on the floor hugging myself, Steve and Eddie are quick to kneel next to me. Careful not to touch me.

"Love.."

"Sweetheart, it's okay. We're here"

"Yeah, nothing's gonna happen."

They try to touch me again and I let them this time.

"Is it okay if we hold you, princess?" Eddie asks.

I slightly nod, still avoiding their eyes.

Carefully, Eddie wrap his arms around me, rubbing my arms to calm me down, while gently rubs my knees.

I take a deep breath and reach out to grab their hands, holding then tight.

"I... I was walking back from the party." I start.

"You don't have to tell us if you're not ready yet, my love" Eddie reassures me.

I just nod but I keep speaking. 

"I was walking because I let Nancy go home with Jonathan. I stayed at... at the party for a little longer... chatting with some friends... then.." I let out a sob and Eddie and Steve's hands draw circles on mine reassuringly.

"It's okay, Sweetheart. We're here" Steve softly says.

"Then... while I was walking home I... uh... I... I heard a car... stopping not far from where I was... I didn't think much of it at first... then... uh.. then" I take a deep, shaky breath "then I heard Jason's voice. He was calling me. Next thing I know is... is that I.. was.. I was completely surrounded by his friends. They... they were... they uh.. started to calling me names... and then... then...fuck" I cry again, sobbing violently, Eddie holds me closer and Steve kisses my hand.

"Fuck... I just... I can still feel their hands... all over me... I... " I just cry.

"Sshh, my love. You're okay. We won't let it happen again. We promise" Eddie whispers to me.

"We're so sorry, Sweetheart. So sorry. We shouldn't have let you go alone"

I shake my head.

"It wasn't your fault. Please... don't.. don't blame yourself." I ask.

"Help me get her to the couch" Steve asks Eddie who slowly move his arms away from me to help me stand up, on shaky legs.

They lead me to the couch and let me sit, then they kneel in front of me.

"I'm sorry.." I barely whisper.

"What for, my love? You didn't do anything wrong. You hear me? It wasn't your fault" Eddie firmly tells me holding one of my hands as Steve gently stroke the other one.

"I made you worry..."

"So what? We worry all the time for you, sweetheart. It's not a surprise" Steve jokes to enlighten the mood a bit.

"Yeah, I mean, you remember when you were staying with me at Christmas?" Eddie asks and I nod "I woke up and you weren't next to me. I almost freaked out then I heard the shower." He chuckles turning to look at Steve "turned out she was simply taking a shower"

Steve laughs at that and I do too.

"See? We're always gonna worry about you. We love you" Steve kisses my hand.

I notice I'm not shaking anymore, so I smile at them and bring their hands to my mouth and kiss them.

"How do you feel?" Eddie asks sitting next to me, Steve does the same.

"Better... thank you" I say leaning my head on his shoulder, letting him hug me.

"Good, now... you stay here with her and I" Steve stands up "have to make a little visit"

"What?" I ask alarmed. 

"Not a chance, Harrington. You'll only get your ass kicked... again. I'll go" Eddie stands up too "Where's your bat?"

"What? No! You two are staying here" I firmly say, standing up. 

"Why?" They ask at the same time.

"Because..." I say.

"Because...?" Eddie asks.

"There's... there's no need" I say looking down at my feet.

"No need? Love, they hurt you... we... fuck. We can't let them get away with it." Steve comes to me rubbing my arms.

"He's right. At least let us talk to Hopper" Eddie suggests. "Please"

"I... I don't... "I stutter and Steve only holds me.

"We'll be with you the entire time. We promise, my love." Eddie reassures me.

"Can... can we do it... later... not now, please?" I ask, my eye watering up once again.

"Sure, love. Whenever you're ready." Steve kisses my head.

"How about breakfast then?" Eddie gently grabs my hand leading me back to the kitchen. 

I move to get back to the pancakes mixture, but Eddie stops me.

"I got it, my darling" he tells me.

"I can still use my hands, Eddie" I tell him rolling my eyes playfully. 

"I know. That doesn't mean I can't spoil my girl" he winks.

I feel Steve coming up behind me, hugging me and resting his chin on my shoulder. 

"He's right, you know. Plus you can't stop us from spoiling you, sweetheart, that'sour only purpose." He kisses my cheek.

"I love you." I say, slightly embarrassed from their attention. 

"Aaww look at her. She still gets all shy with us" Steve jokes.

"Still not use to have two guys at your feet, love?" Eddie sweetly smirks.

"Shut up" I say. 

"Yeah stop teasing my girl, Munson" Steve jokingly accuses Eddie.

"Your girl? Man, we're all together here. Key word: share" Eddie replies. 

"Okay, okay, while you two fight I'll go change and... yeah.. throw these clothes away." I half smile and they nod checking if I'm actually okay, once they're convinced Steve lets me go and kisses my cheek and so does Eddie.

"Be quick, or Harrington here will eat everything" he jokes.

Steve looks at him in disbelief.

They keep bickering and joking all while Eddie finishes making breakfast and I walk upstairs.

I finally feel safe again.

I feel stupid for not telling them right away, they would probably tell me that no, I'm not stupid, but still.

They're my safe place, always. 

[xxmaxwellxx]

Hello! Sorry for the delay but I’ve finished my first Yandere oc fanfic! Writers block and anxiety are a pain. Anyway, this is my first fanfic and I’m a tad dyslexic so forgive me for any mistakes! Please let me know if I missed anything with the trigger warnings and sorry for the formatting issues, I wrote this on my laptop. Also please give me constructive criticism and feedback! I’d like to start a blog dedicated to my writing and fanfic so any help is appreciated!

Tw: stalking, obsession and general Yandere behavior.

Gn reader (referred to with they/them pronouns)

Today was a nightmare, we had at least fifty customers during the lunch rush and what's worse is that a guy came in and was sitting at the same table for five hours and only left 30 minutes before closing, the clattering of plates echoing behind me as I wipe down his table, my body feeling like concrete, but I'm forced to keep going. Something crinkles and falls to the ground. Picking it up, I see it's a recipe with (XXX)-XXX-XXXX ‘call me ;)’ on the bottom. I let out a sigh, wading it up and throwing it in the garbage. Of course, he would do that. The guy who refused to leave was also a creep. Just as I'm about to leave, I notice a shadowy figure lingering outside the café, their gaze fixed on me. A chill runs down my spine, but I shake it off, attributing it to the exhaustion of the day. “Hey, I'm going to head out! Could you lock up for me?” I call out to Delilah, the nice old woman in the back. I grab my stuff after she responds in the affirmative. The bell ringing as I head out. I walk to the same bus stop I take every day, the last bus picking me up so often that the bus driver knows me by name.

Sitting down on the bench, I pull out my phone, scrolling through insta. A post from a famous influencer, a post of someone's dog in a newly knit sweater, someone advertising their small business. Just what you'd expect to see, but what I didn't expect was someone sitting next to me. I glance over at them, he’s wearing a white hoodie, sweatpants and sneakers. Nothing out of the ordinary except for his face, what was up with his face? Sunglasses? Why was he wearing sunglasses at night? He turns his head and I quickly turn away and look back at my phone, but I can feel him staring at me, practically burning a hole in the side of my head. I shrink into myself a little, his gaze never leaving me. I can see him out of the corner of my eye, but I can't make out his expression, his face completely obscured by a surgical mask. Should I speak up? Why was he just staring? Was there something on my clothes? Do I offend? The bus screeches to a halt in front of me, and I jump to my feet, quickly hurrying into a seat. Jeremy, the bus driver, gives me a weird look but doesn't say anything. I see the man board the bus, and I hope that he won't sit anywhere near me. That hope is instantly shattered when he stops in front of me. He's tall and intimidating. The light shines off his long black hair, creating a shadow over his face as he looks down at me. I can feel dread knotting up my stomach, I want to cry. I didn't even notice the tears gathering in my eyes, he holds something up, but I can't see it. I blink, the tears fall and I realize he's holding up my bag, “You forgot this.” his voice is low and gravelly like he just woke up. “Oh, thanks.” I say quietly, quickly taking my bag from him.

I look away, turning my gaze out the window, suddenly finding the passing cars more interesting than whatever he was doing at the moment. “I like your apron.” I side eye him, he's staring at me again. I didn't humor him with a response, “Where did you get it?” he's not going to stop talking, is he? “My grandma made it for me.” it wasn't anything amazing, just a blue and white striped apron with a cute rubber duck on the pocket. “It's very cute.” I hum in response, trying not to engage. Trying not to give him fuel to keep going. But despite my efforts, he does.

“I like your hair.”, “Where do you work?”, “How was your day?”, “Do you like work?”, question after question. A never ending string of words. I try to ignore him, to not give him enough to keep going. But he does. The bus stops, and I stop tuning him out to jump up, remembering to grab my bag, and hurry off the bus and away from him. I speed walk to my apartment building, up the side stairs and to my door. I reach into my pocket and I don't feel anything. My heart speeds up as a cold sweat covers my body. Where's my keys? I start to hyperventilate as I check my clothes. My front pockets, back pockets, apron pocket, shirt pocket. They aren't there. They aren't anywhere. I could have sworn I took my keys out of my locker. Did I drop them on the bus? Did they fall out on the sidewalk?

I let out a scream when I feel a hand on my shoulder, whipping around I see the man from the bus and I suddenly have something much bigger to worry about. I open my mouth to scream, at him, for help, I don't know, when he holds up my keys. The fluffy blue pompom and rubber duck keychains bouncing from how fast he lifted them. “I’m sorry, but these fell out of your pocket.” our hands brush as he quickly hands me my keys and speed walks down the stairs, he makes to the bottom and I shout a “Thank you!” after him. Maybe I judged him too quickly.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They touched me. I can't believe it, they touched me! I can't believe I've at last managed to approach them, emerging from the shadows where I've lingered for so long. Turning the corner, I slide down the wall, quietly giggling to myself because oh my god they touched me! The streetlight over head flickers as I put my hand over my mouth in an attempt to muffle the laughs that are bubbling up and out of my mouth.

I followed them out to the bus stop they sit at every day, they're so beautiful, I couldn't take my eyes off them. They left their bag by the bench, I don't know why, but they seemed freaked out and left in a hurry. Poor thing must have had a horrible day, worse than I thought, if they're that anxious. I was taught to be nice, people like it when you're nice, so I brought them their bag. They looked so cute when they looked up at me. What wasn't cute was the tears gliding down their cheeks. My stomach was in knots as I handed them their bag. I hate seeing them cry, so I did what helped me. I asked them easy questions, trying to distract them from whatever was making them cry. They must have been really sad because they were giving short answers. As the bus came to a stop in front of their apartment building, I slipped their keys out of their pocket. Maybe a happy accident would cheer them up, even if it was artificial. My voice was stuck in my throat as I followed them off the sidewalk, my heart was beating rapidly as I followed them up the stairs. They're looking for their keys. Fuck. No turning back now. I can't be a coward now, I grab their shoulder and they scream. I look so creepy, god, just say something! “I’m sorry, but these fell out of your pocket.” I sounded like I total loser, but sounding like a loser was better than them fearing me, even if for a moment. It felt heavenly when our fingers brushed against one another, their voice like an angel when they shouted thank you. If only they'd let me hold their hand, walk them home, kiss them goodnight. But this will have to do for now.

I'll see you again soon, my love.~

[99corentine]

Corentiiiine!

First of all I want to say that I love love love Gol Hah Dov! Definitely one of my absolute favourite fanfics of all time. I'm on my 5th or so reread at the moment and love it just as much as when I first ready it. The way you write the relationship between Miraak and Chrysanthe scratches that fated-enemies-to-lovers itch perfectly.

I loved GHD so much that it has inspired me to start writing my own Miraak/LDB fanfic, I have read most of fics available but want more! I have been planning it for ages (an embarrassing amount of time and many, many notebooks in fact) but have just started writing it out officially. The first chapter is very nearly done, and I have plotted up to the final act, but I just wanted to ask how you found the writing process and managed to keep motivated? I haven't evenn published it yet, but I'm already worried that it won't hold up to the other fics out there, especially one as amazing as GHD. I also fear I have bitten off quite a lot with the amount I want to write, and keeping momentum may be difficult.

Thank you again for sharing Gol Hah Dov with us! I look forward to reading Tooth for a Tooth, Tavstarion is another favourite ship of mine and if it's anything like your other fics I'm sure to love it!

Hello, and thank you so much for such wonderful words! I too have been re-reading GHD as I'm proofreading it one last time at the moment, and it's been interesting to see how my writing style and preferences have changed over the course of the story. I'm very proud of how it turned out, and endlessly bowled over by how many people have come forward to tell me they liked it. My dumb self-indulgent story about a 2011 game! It's crazy that it's had so much attention.

You can never over-plan for a story, so having a number of notebooks worth of planning is a great start! I would say you'll want to write the first few chapters before publishing it, just to assure yourself that you're going to keep writing - I have written loads of stuff I was sure would turn into an epic longfic and I never made it past chapter one or two, sometimes it's just like that. When you're confident you'll keep going, publishing it will then motivate you to do more.

I've covered a little of my writing process in this guide I knocked together (which you may have already seen). I'd say specifically for writing motivation, these three things work for me:

Absolutely DO NOT discuss the plot or story arcs in great detail with anyone, as mentioned in my guide this will demotivate you to actually create a finished piece of writing. Holding onto that cool plot thing you want to show to the world and what people's reactions to it might be will fuel you to Write The Thing

Sometimes it's hard to get stuff down on paper, and when that happens eventually I just brute force it: sit down, no distractions, no phone, and force myself to write something, anything, even if it's garbage. I kind of hold myself hostage sometimes, e.g. I'm not allowed to watch this TV show/play this game/do this other project until I've worked on this one

It's helpful to break writing down into smaller chunks. You mentioned you've bit off a lot, can you break it down into story arcs or segments? If you do you'll be writing not to the end (a distant and unattainable-feeling finish line), but just to the end of the next story arc, which is less daunting.

As for quality, I wouldn't worry about that because you'll improve over the course of your story. I loved the events in the early chapters of GHD (scary Miraak is my favourite Miraak) but I think the writing of the later chapters is much, much technically better, because writing so much made me improve. We're also our own worst critics, of course! So your writing is likely better than you think, and it can only grow.

Best of luck to you with it! A longfic is no easy endeavour (and Tooth for a Tooth is probably going to be enormous too...) and it takes a lot of patience and perseverence, but I believe in you!

[whumpitlikeyoumeanit]

I'm thinking about writing a HP fic with Voldie living with the Malfoys and treating them like garbage. Do you have any headcannons or ideas you'd wanna see in something like that?

<3 Best AU

You can't go wrong with turning Draco into a ferret as punishment / torture. I have him with a small gold birdcage in the parlour he lives in as a ferret =D (That would be really stressful to a ferret, don't do it to a real one, animal cruelty PSA)

Voldemort can give people false memories / horrifying visions when he wants to torture them without making them useless to him, so that's fun to play with.

Lucius being really messed up and traumatised from the year spent with the Dementors. Lucius being on the same level as Wormtail. Lucius showing surprise depth and actually trying to protect his family, granted that Voldemort's never actually going to let that work without making it abundantly clear he can do whatever he wants and is just ~allowing~ it...

On that note, cruel choices and Voldemort using them against each other. Things like "I let your failure of a son live, but now you're asking to be allowed a wand as well? Well, I suppose if you want that more..." or "Lord Voldemort is magnanimous; decide between you who will be punished for this". Forcing Lucius to Crucio Draco (because they all know if he doesn't Draco'll be killed). I'd say forcing Draco to Crucio one of his parents but I genuinely don't think he could. Could force him to try and then be punished for it.

Nagini. Just.... Nagini. Completely terrifying. You know she needs to eat a person every month or two.

Snape doing whatever he can to help without blowing his cover.

Bellatrix trying to get Narcissa to come to Voldemort's side and abandon her family, even offering to get rid of the family holding her back, but also Bellatrix being absolutely ready and willing to hurt Narcissa if Voldemort even hints he would like that.

Normally I leave Narcissa relatively unscathed... well, no, she's scathed, but she's less actively tortured. 🤔 Of the twice I've written something adjacent to this AU, once I had her mind controlled and kept by Rabastan, and the other I had her badly injured while trying to help Draco escape (oh, yeah, another trope: Narcissa trying to help Draco escape) and sent to the hospital. Both times I had her get out of the house and join up with the good guys and be on the other side in the final battle. Interesting trend I hadn't recognised in myself. I know you like female whumpees, though, so you have a whole world of "She comes from good Pureblood stock and it's a shame to waste it" at your fingertips, if you want to get that uncomfortable with it.

The absolute terror of knowing Voldemort can read your mind whenever he wants and will know everything you do and everything you say and everything you think.

Voldemort is such a good villain for absolutely terrorising the poor dears.

[sincerely-sofie]

still cant get over travailshipping. i remember when you first tested the waters with it (which i believe was some time before the tpiag chapters started coming out?) and at first i thought it was pretty funny. ark slowly but surely falling headfirst for twig, who if she had a tagline it would be "if i could turn my feelings into weapons, mine would be a goddamn nuclear bomb", and her at first just being oblivious to it and thinking that the letters that expressed love and care that were written in cursive in her mailbox were just funny and she wanted to show them to ark with the guy just looking at her with the most "well that backfired in the weirdest way possible". but when tpiag finally ended i finally connected the dots as to why these two are just. augh. i wont go into detail here in your askbox but i wanna know is: HOW DID YOU DO IT. HOW DO YOU KEEP MAKING SUCH GOOD IDEAS FOR THE FUNNY DIGITAL ANIMALS. TELL ME.

(thinking to myself) "Ugh I should stop posting so much travailshipping stuff... It's probably so annoying to everyone who sees it. I feel bad for my poor followers. I'll check my inbox real quick and then commit to shaking up my content by—" *gets obliterated by your niceness*

Oh man. I remember posting that poll where I hesitantly described a possible Darkrai/Twig pairing in the tags while proposing Twig/Kip as an alternative route, despite it not being the direction I wanted to take the characters, because I was so scared of what people’s reactions might be. If I remember right, I posted it a little bit before I had just barely reached 5k words in the first draft of TPiaG.

I've been trying to write up detailed responses to how I come up with good ideas for travailshipping in particular, but there's one rule I use that defines everything after it and speaks for all of them: I have fun with the characters.

That's it. That's the rule. If I don't want to write a subject, I don't. I stick with what I find enjoyable and resonant. Does a joke make me laugh? Does a scene make me cry? Does a villain make me punch a hole in my wall? Does a cute gesture make me squeal? If so, then into the project it goes. I think people can feel when someone is having fun with their work, and that fun radiates out into their own experience consuming that work. It's like laughter— joy is something we're sharing with others as long as we feel it. Fun is contagious.

Also: when you don't force yourself to make things you hate, you attract people who like the same things as you. These people will find your work even more fun— because not only did you have fun making it, they're having double fun consuming it.

An important tangent I'll go off on is that I think that every creative project idea is a good idea. There's so many beloved bizarro ideas in the world, even the ones who try to be cool about how weird their premises are. There's this weird show where the main character works as a service industry worker in an underwater setting that's ruled by a Roman deity— he lives in a piece of fruit, and his pet gastropod makes cat noises. This show sounds like word salad garbage on paper and could be tossed out for its nonsensical nature, and yet SpongeBob SquarePants has made Nickelodeon over $13 billion dollars and is a treasured part of many childhoods. There's also a character who spends his time locked in intellectual and physical combat with a wannabe clown and wears a costume with bat ears while doing it. Batman's been an icon for over 80 years.

All of this is to say:

Ideas are always good ideas by virtue of existing. They don't derive their goodness from external sources. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Make more of what you love. Don't make things you hate making.

If you have fun while making the thing, people will have fun while they consume the thing's content.

I hope this makes sense. I didn't touch on idea generation as much as embracing existing ideas. Fingers crossed that was the right response. I'd just woken up from a nap as I was writing it, so hopefully it's not too meandering and managed to answer the question and—

— Oh shoot. Was that a hypothetical question??? Uh. Sorry if I went off on this rant when you were just trying to voice your niceness. Oops. 🫥

[squigglywindy]

Y'know what. I just had a thought and I'm going to share it because it's What I Do.

I recently saw a really, really good writer putting down their work because it wasn't 'up to their usual standards', and 'not as good as it could have been' and 'just plain garbage' (It was none of you my lovely moots, I have no idea who this person was, I just saw them online).

And I read their little story and like...it was good. It was really, really good. Maybe they've been writing longer than me, maybe they're just That Talented, but it made me think that like...it was better than probably anything I'll ever produce, and...they didn't like it.

Made me think things like 'why do I bother sharing my weird little stories when even something this good isn't Good Enough?'

So then, because I'm me, I had a Lot Of Thoughts. What if there's a Baby Writer reading my stuff, and they see me throwing down on it because I have the self-confidence of a bullied slug, and decide that hey. Maybe my stuff's not Good Enough, so I'll keep it to myself.

Because the thing is, I've been writing for fifteen years. Am I great at it? Maybe not. As good as I'll ever get? No, everyone's always improving all the time! But I've been doing it for a while. Will everything I write be a masterpiece? Absolutely not! But do I string together words with a little more proficiency than somebody writing their first story ever? Probably. And I don't want any of them looking at what I say about my writing and deciding that they shouldn't try.

So, this is my official statement that I'm going to stop being self-deprecating about the things I create, and my request for anyone who sees me break this promise to jump on me and make me delete it. Yes, I'm still going to look at it and feel like it could be better. I'm still going to read my stuff and hate it sometimes. I'm human, and sometimes humans have trouble seeing value in their own work, even if it's so easy to see it in other people's. But I'm trying to get better. Because just the act of creating something makes it priceless. We, as writers and artists and people in general, put a little piece of our hearts into everything we do, and that's worth something. It's worth creating. It's worth sharing. And it's worth forcing yourself to see the value in it.

Please, please, never look at what somebody thinks about themselves, or anyone else, and wonder if it applies to you.

Never hesitate to create something, and share it, and be proud of it, just because maybe you think it will never be as good as what somebody else made.

It's not a race. It's not a competition. We're here to have fun.

Ily'all/plat. Keep creating. Keep sharing. Keep being you; you're awesome enough exactly as you are <3

[elisela]

follow through sterek, ~600, college au, professor/coach, established relationship day 4: bright red also on ao3

The force with which Stiles slams the paper down on the desk causes a coffee cup to rattle on its coaster, and he takes a moment to despair that he’s in love with an idiot who insists on using coasters despite the desk being treated like garbage by every professor who had used it for the past thirty years.

Not right now, though. Right now, he’s decidedly not in love, and most definitely pissed.

“My star attacker, Derek,” he says, gesturing to the paper angrily and keeping his eyes strictly above Derek’s neckline. He will not look below, because Derek is choosing to torture him with a tight navy blue t-shirt that shows off his pecs and biceps indecently, and if he looks he’ll get all dopey-eyed and it’ll ruin the effect. “Explain yourself.”

Derek hardly glances over at the paper, the bright red zero bold above a scribbled see me. “That note wasn’t meant for you. Send Theo in and I’ll explain myself to him.”

“I will withhold blow jobs for a month,” Stiles swears, despite knowing he will absolutely cave the moment they get in bed. Or in the kitchen. Or, if Derek lets him, right here at his desk.

Derek knows it too by the way he huffs out a breath of laughter. “Sure.”

“No sex at all.”

“Okay.”

He casts around for a threat he’ll actually follow through on and grins triumphantly. “I’ll tell Laura you’d love to spend spring break helping her move from her ninth floor walk-up.”

Derek makes a face. “It’s not his paper. It’s the same as a student’s from another section, word for word.”

Stiles groans. “Idiot,” he says. “He didn’t even change a few words?”

“Not the point,” Derek says, frowning.

“Unless he accidentally—maybe they’re in the same frat, maybe he just, just—picked up the wrong—”

“Stiles.”

“Maybe that kid took—” he gives up before he even finishes. “Alright, big guy, how can I get you to give him another chance? I’ll make him write the paper in front of me if that will help.”

“You’d just end up writing it for him,” Derek says. “Be glad I didn’t report it. If he does it again, I’m taking it to the dean.”

“I’ll blow you.”

“You really need to stop trying to use that as a selling point,” Derek says, but he’s starting to grin.

“I’ll tell Laura you’re really too busy to help her move.”

“I’m telling her that anyway,” Derek says, picking up the pen he’d set down when Stiles came in and returning to the paper in front of him.

Stiles takes a deep breath and pulls out his best offer—the one he was hoping to save for when he really fucked something up, but losing his best player to academic ineligibility weeks before the championship is something he can’t allow to happen. “Practice is over at six, the team clears out by seven,” he says, putting his hands down on either side of the paper Derek’s correcting and leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Why don’t you come by then and we can run a few drills, maybe you can see what it takes to convince me to put you on first line?”

He’d feel slightly guilty about using Derek’s fantasies to his advantage if it weren’t for the way Derek’s breath caught in his throat slightly before the pen in his hand snapped right in half. 

“Bring your old jersey, Hale,” he breathes out, and straightens up, clearing his throat as he backs away from the desk. “I’ll have Theo turn in a new paper by Friday.”

[twizzie-lairs]

Hello! I love your account so much and admire all your work, I really want to start doing this stuff but don't know where to start, I'm good with writing and art but I've been slightly burnt out lately and a lot less creative at the moment, I've posted about asks and etc,

If you have any advice then I would really appreciate it, don't have to though obviously!

-Anon

Hi Anon!

First of all, thank you so much for the love- I really appreciate it so much <3

Burnout sucks, and especially as creatives (and just humans in general), it's always unavoidable to some extent. So don't ever put yourself down because of it or feel bad about it, we all go through it in some way, shape, or form honestly!

I would say there's two approaches you could take to this, both of which are equally viable and I myself have done both before as well.

The first being, just take a break and do what you DO enjoy right now or whatever gives you the most satisfaction. If that's just bingeing some youtube or netflix shows while eating your favorite snacks, so be it! You need to recover and that's a-okay to do for a while! The passion and inspiration will always inevitably spark again, so if you just have to bide your time until that happens, then there's nothing wrong with just living life and enjoying what you do in the present- everyone's healing process is different.

The second approach is to just keep making things even if you feel like it's garbage and hate it (this piece of advice I remember hearing Arin talk about when watching an episode of something Game Grumps related). I remember he talked about that he just had to keep forcing himself to trudge through it and create the garbage, create the trash, because he could keep making excuses if he's not feeling inspired and putting it off- or he could choose to pick up the pencil (or whatever instrument you use to create) and keep working through the creative block to get that "trash" out of his system. So that's another way you could think about it too!

Hope that helped Anon :) <3

[bathsaltsmcgee]

The Potential Main Villain of Hazbin Hotel

Okay, so as I'm sure many people have already been made aware, the brand new teaser trailer for Hazbin Hotel just dropped yesterday and, like a great many people at the time, I was absolutely over the moon with glee.

After all that time waiting for it to appear, who wouldn't be, in that situation?

So, as I was watching the teaser and thoroughly enjoying myself, I noticed that there was a new character who appeared in the trailer that instantly set off all of my alarm bells.

Now, just so we're clear here, I love villains. I love to watch villains. I love to write villains. Stories need villains to function far more than they need their heroes, and a story without a good villain isn't much of a story at all.

Villains are what get stories started. Villains are who propel the narrative along, and villains are the only reasons the heroes get off their collective couches and retaliate to whatever it was that the villain just did. If there wasn't a villain, then why would the heroes need to be heroes?

Food for thought.

Furthermore, I've never been one for the 'Oh, let's redeem the villain and have them go through an arc where they learn valuable life lessons and become a better person' stories. Those characters, while valid in their own way, aren't true villains. Those are characters who made bad decisions and did questionable things that were not great. Mind you, I'm not saying they're good people, either. They're not. In fact, they can be downright awful, cruel, vicious, dangerous and antagonistic, but they aren't what I view to be true villains.

Villains, to put it bluntly, are not redeemable.

For instance, Sephiroth is not who I would view to be the true villain of FFVII.

Is he dangerous?

Yes.

Is he a threat?

Also, yes.

Is he an overwhelming antagonistic force that threatens to destroy everyone and everything in his path and has the power to bring about the end of creation?

Without question, yes, to all of that.

But is he the real villain of FFVII?

No.

Hojo is.

True villains are completely bereft of any sort of redeeming qualities at all. They're not the sort of character that can illicit pity from the audience. They just can't be felt sorry for. They are evil, depraved, monstrous, cruel, self-serving, conniving, often violent and manipulative, and there's no possible way to excuse what they do, for there's simply no excuse for it. That's not the point of a villain. Villains don't care about morality, nor have they ever. Villains do what they do because they want to do it, not because someone else is influencing their actions, or they had a sad backstory, or whatever. A villain does is whatever they want simply because they want to, and heaven help the person who tries to stop them or get in their way.

That's a villain.

Sure, they can be entertaining in a way, but at the end of the day, never let it be forgotten that they're soulless monsters who delight in using others and feeding off their misery, mainly because it fuels their primary personal motivation, and also because they can.

Think Professor Ratigan, or the Emperor from Star Wars, or the Other Mother from Coraline.

Fun to watch, but good Lord, what pieces of unholy garbage.

That's also why watered down antagonists don't really work as primary villains in a narrative. They can be antagonistic, sure, they can be horrible and cruel and awful and icky, but they can't be the main driving force of evil in a plot.

They're just not enough of an overarching threat.

When you have a villain in fiction, you better go all in and really ramp up the evil to eleven, and the more depraved they are, the more vile, and self-serving and twisted and manipulative and evil and amoral and petty, the stronger of a threat they'll pose.

Which then brings us back to the matter of Hazbin Hotel.

So, there was this one character in the teaser trailer who looked to be of an angelic persuasion who was smiling sweetly at something, but the reflection in her eyeballs suggested that she was delighting in watching something, presumably Hell, burn to the ground.

Charming woman, isn't she?

However, as I was looking at her, she starkly reminded me of a character that had been scrapped from the 'angels and demons' arc of the original zoophobia comic on which HH is based, who went by the name of Adina.

Adina was an angelic being who allowed her own twisted perception of how sin and morality functioned to corrupt her own judgment so much, she basically drove herself right off the deep end into crazy town. She became obsessed with purging all sinful beings of their sin, for that was the only way to properly 'purify' them of their tainted spirits, and, unfortunately for all of us, that pretty much included everybody who is, or has ever been, alive.

So, she's already veering into serious Judge Frollo territory right from the get go.

Additionally, her favorite pastime is torturing people that she views to be dirty and sinful, so as to 'purge' them of their demonic ways, and she does this by having them relive every single horrible thing they've ever done, all while telling them that 'there's no mercy for the damned'.

Seriously, there's art of her doing this to Angel Dust. I'm not kidding, go look it up.

So, while IMDB says this character's name is Sera, she's giving off serious Adina energy here, which does not bode well, and if she's anything like Adina, then the Hazbin crew are going to have far more problems to worry about than just a yearly genocide.

[lastthroes]

in the end it doesn't matter much because what i've been posting is fic that i already had ~80% written for one/two years for events and the like that i couldn't complete on time because /vague gestures at the state of my life, but man it's absolutely impossible not to notice the drop in ao3 engagement even if you don't post to "do numbers"

comparisons are odious but going through my works:

two years ago

a year ago

january of this year

and then... the past month

all of this uses the same fandom and the same characters/ships, so it's not about that either. i've also noticed the same pattern with other tales i post for, anyway. it's really not about that either

i have been considering after talking to a mutual friend months ago switching to write in my native language again (except for exchangs of course) once i'm done with posting old wips, because these were the kind of numbers i used to do back then already. not only is the step i hate most from writing and incredibly tedious, i also waste way too much time and energy that i don't have trying to make my english bearable to read and for four hits in a 10k+ work, as much as i still do appreciate the small feedback i get and i don't want it to get misinterpreted like that... i don't think it's worth the effort: grammarly has fallen into the ai generation garbage can and is unusable, language learning websites have also added ai and now say absolute horseshit (while at the same time paywalling real answers, like hinative for example is doing, but they're not the only ones), and google results are also ridden by ai trash besides the removal of the "number of results" in searches, which means i can't judge anymore if something's correct or not by popularity. i have no one to go to for spagbetaing either (which also always makes me feel bad, because i have little to offer to anyone who does that kind of free labor for me), and i have never "vibed" with having to promote myself through social media, which is already a pointless endeavor when 1) this blog was hidden from search until less than a month ago, and 2) i lost my old twitter account and most of my followers when i was forced to remake due to elon's bullshit

for new works, if i'm gonna write for myself and three other people, and i can't even tell if all of them actually got to the end or not, i might as well just cut the middleman: the very small number of people who are still interested will try to parse it through google translate like i already experienced in the past, and if not… then i doubt the difference will be that large, all things considered

[the-duckless-pond]

Well, it’s official. I am taking an extended break from Happenstance.

I wish I didn’t have to, but my depression has been getting worse and worse. Like barely leaving bed bad. Self harm urges bad. And I need to get it under control before it fucks up my life like it always does. Before I drop out of school and ruin things again.

I haven’t had real motivation to write in months. I’ve just been forcing myself to do it. I hate everything I’ve written the past two months and this it’s garbage. I don’t get any joy from writing right now.

So I am taking a break. I’ve written the end of Rannoch, so that is what I will post to. I’ll do daily updates until I am out of content to share. And then I’m just going to try and focus on feeling better. Stabilizing. Taking care of myself.

I’ll probably still do some writing here and there, but it won’t be on any set schedule like it has been. It’ll happen when it happens, and I’ll post it if I like it. I just have neither the motivation nor the energy to keep going right now. I’m in crisis, and I need to start acting like it. Instead of forcing myself to sit down and do something that usually brings me joy but hasn’t in two months.

So. Yeah. That’s the update. I have about two weeks worth of chapters to post. I’ll post those, and write when I feel like it. Post maybe once entire arcs are completed. I’ll figure it out. All I know right now is that I am unwell and I need a break. So I am going to do the things necessary to take care of myself. And I guess everyone just has to cope.

[ketsubankoya]

I don't know what to do with myself.

Once upon a time, I was a medium-grade fanfic writer. I wrote fanfiction for Sailor Moon, which was already past its golden age but still had a good amount of life in it. I belonged to a few online communities and built a solid following, along with a number of long-lasting friendships with great people.

In the mid-2000s, I faded out of online fandom for two reasons. I burned out on writing after forcing my way to the end of a fanfic that had ended up being way longer than I'd ever intended, and I got involved in offline fandom. Primarily staffing conventions and events. Again, I poured everything I had into a community that meant the world to me.

It was the best and worst thing I've ever done. I grew into a stronger, more capable person, and helped bring cherished experiences and memories to thousands of my fellow nerds. I met amazing people, several of whom were instrumental in keeping me alive when my brain spent a few years trying to kill me. And yet, all human constructs are dumpster fires. Problematic people are everywhere. Whatever beautiful thing you're involved in, eventually it will go wrong. Things will get ugly, and whatever you loved will become unrecognizable. And I burned out again, and had to step back from that world.

So now, here I am. Trying to figure out what kind of life I'm going to have next. I've been indulging in several hobbies I haven't had time for over the past 20 years. But I feel adrift. I've always had trouble dedicating myself to any hobby enough to get good at it, but it's been a long time since I felt real fire for anything that lasted longer than a flash.

I've been struggling with this for several months at this point. I've been painting, I've been writing, I've been streaming, I've been redecorating, but I haven't gotten particularly far with any of them. Today, I'm realizing that as much of an introvert homebody as I am, I need community. I need connection with others doing the same things, and feedback from people who consume what I produce. Creating for others is instrumental to my motivation for doing anything.

It's frustrating, and sad. We should do things for ourselves, and for the pleasure of doing them, not for an audience, right? I don't know if I've ever in my life made anything with no intent to show it to anyone. I need the value found in sharing my efforts with others. So now I'm here on Tumblr, after carrying around an unused journal since last August. And after trying several other social media platforms in an effort to connect with people. I can't be productive in a vacuum.

What now? I've been strongly attracted to the thought of being a content creator lately. What kind of content, I don't know (see aforementioned list of hobbies). But there's another problem, when it comes to that. I'm not a creator. I'm not really a writer, or an artist, or any of those things. Everything I've ever made is either derivative or garbage. Every. Single. Thing. I make things, but I don't actually create anything.

There's an odd agony in wanting so badly to create something, but not actually being a creator. I keep waiting for the perfect hobby to pop up, but I don't have what it takes to seize that opportunity even if it were to arise. So I'm sad, and empty, and idle.

I don't know what to do with myself.