#this is just the first thing i've written creatively in like a week so i was.

[evermore-fashion]

Did I make a mistake?

As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹

[flanaganfilm]

Good day Mr Flanagan. please what does "the rest is confetti" mean to you and in the context it was used in hill house??

Okay, here we go. Buckle up for a long read.

To answer this, I've got to explain a little bit about what was happening and where I was when I sat down to write episode 10 of The Haunting of Hill House.

Hill House was not a fun shoot. The picture above is from very early in production, when I was still chubby and happy.

It was my first foray into television. I was absolutely terrified that I'd mess it up. So I'd opted to direct all of the episodes myself, figuring that - if nothing else - I'd have no one else to blame if it went south.

It was the most grueling professional experience of my career. The shoot was by no means a smooth one, every day was an uphill battle from a budgetary perspective, and between the three giant production entities involved with the production, I spent a lot of time fighting over the creative and logistical elements of the series.

I began losing weight. I was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.

By the end of the shoot, I had dropped almost 40 lbs.

I was very depressed. Every day was a battle, and for the first time in my career, I wasn't excited to go to work in the morning. We were fighting for basic resources, fighting for the show we wanted, and even fighting amongst ourselves by the end. It was grueling.

We hadn't written all of the scripts when we started production. I believe we had finished through episode 7, but the rest of the scripts had to be finished while we were already shooting.

We'd mapped everything out in the writers room, and I had great support on the other episodes, but I was writing the finale solo. I'd thought I'd be able to juggle it with everything else. I quickly fell behind.

I finally got to the script about halfway through production. I'd work on it between takes at the monitor, and then get home to our tiny rental house in Atlanta, where Kate was waiting with our baby son. (One of the rare bright spots of this shoot came when Kate found out she was pregnant about halfway through production. We even named our daughter Theodora, in honor of her origins.)

I'd typically fall down from exhaustion when I got home, but I had to push through it and work on the script. My weekends were spent shotlisting and prepping for upcoming episodes. We didn't have enough time to stay ahead of prep, so every available day was used for that... I went three months without a single day off at one point.

I'd sit up late staring at the script. I was in a dark, dark place. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and feeling like I lived in an eternal present. Each day bled into the next and it didn't feel like there was an end in sight. That feeling of unreality was heightened because we kept returning to the same sets, same locations, and even the same scenes throughout the 100 shooting-day production. Stepping back into the exact room we had shot in days or weeks or even months ago made the whole thing feel absolutely surreal. Making movies is always an non-linear experience, but this one felt particularly so... it was like the days of our lives were happening to us all out of order.

I remember feeling something like despair creeping into my daily experience on the show. And I remember dwelling on that when I got into the scene work of episode 10.

As I worked through the draft, I recall that despair coloring a lot of what was on the page. My filter was breaking down. There's a monologue at the beginning of the episode where Steven's wife Leigh (played by my dear friend Samantha Sloyan) spews out a torrent of eviscerating insults about Steve's value as a writer. That is just me vomiting onto myself. She was voicing all of my deepest insecurities about myself at the time, and of what I was doing with this series.

She says "Is anything real before you write it, Steve? The things you write about, they're real. Those people are real, their feelings are real, their pain is real - but not to you, is it. Not until you chew it up, digest it, and shit it out onto a piece of paper and even then, it's a pale imitation at best."

This was the mindset I was in for a lot of the shoot. The writing became a reflection of a lot of that turmoil, and I knew who I was referring to in that monologue - I was talking about my family. I was talking about how much of their lives I'd used as building material for this show. I was talking about the fact that I'd lost two loved ones to suicide, and seen what it had done to my mother in particular. And I knew I was using - possibly even exploiting - those people for this series.

There's a lot of despair in this episode. The Red Room, as we conceived it, was a place that would feed upon those emotions. Grief, sadness, loss... those were the real ghosts of our series, and where our characters find themselves at the start of the finale. They're being slowly digested - eaten alive - by those feelings.

So finally, it came time to write Nell's final scene with her siblings. I knew from the outline we'd constructed in the writers room what this was supposed to accomplish - she was supposed to be their salvation. She was supposed to take all of these feelings that we'd been wrestling with and finally provide catharsis... finally say something that would free everyone.

I remember sitting with a blinking cursor for a long time. The Crain siblings had just turned and seen Nellie standing by the door, and suddenly were able to hear her speak. But what should she say? What would I say? What would I want someone to say to me?

What she ultimately says lays bare a lot of what I was thinking about when it comes to grief. It exists outside of linear time, much as I felt I existed at the time. That sense of eternal present, that sense of a nonlinear eternity of moments and memories - it all came out in her speech to her brothers and sisters.

I remember feeling, looking at my insane present and looking back at my past, how strangely overwhelmed I was by memories. That I wasn't experiencing time in a straight line, and hadn't been for a while - for the better part of a year, I'd felt more like I was standing in a whirlwind of moments. "Our moments fall around us like..." Nell said, and I recall sitting back and trying to find the words.

"Rain," for certain, but there was something too uniform about that. The moments of life as I experienced them weren't that orderly, they weren't that small. They didn't fall the same way. Some sailed by, fast and unremarkable, while others lingered in front of me, twisting and stretching. So it was a good word, but not the right word. I left it on the page though.

"Snow" was my next attempt. Better, in that I imagined the snow blowing in the wind, swirling and dancing and feeling more organic. More chaotic. More like life. But for some reason, the word that stuck with me, the word I felt Nell Crain would connect with was...

"Confetti."

And that was because I was thinking not of Victoria Pedretti at this point, but of Violet McGraw.

Violet played Young Nell, and I wondered what she might have said if she experienced time this way. As an adult, Nell was despairing. Nell was overwhelmed. But as a child... there was an innocence to the word. There was a joy to the word.

I imagined moments falling around her, this little girl with the big smile and the wide eyes. Her moments would be colorful. They would be of different shapes and sizes, some falling fast and some falling slow, flipping and turning and dancing in the air, independent of the others. Sparkling, whirling, doing lazy summersaults as they sauntered down to Earth.

I thought of myself, and of the members of my family. I thought of those we'd lost. I realized what I hoped for them, and for us all, in the end... was to look upon that mosaic of experience, that avalanche of days and minutes and moments... and to smile with some of the joy we had as children.

And this, I thought, was something that gave me hope. This gave me a glimpse of some kind of salvation for them. This was also how I hoped my life might seem if I was a ghost - a cascade of color and light and shape and movement, something I could dance in.

So Nell smiled and said... "or confetti."

It stuck with me. The rest of her monologue gets heavy again, and gets to the real point of the show - the point of the whole series, if I'm honest - and that's forgiveness.

I figured the only thing that would let the Crain children out of the Red Room was to be forgiven. I thought of the losses in my own family, and I thought of what I wished for my mother and for my aunts and uncles and cousins and I tried to pour that into her final words.

"I loved you completely, and you loved me the same," she said, "that's all." And this was the point I wanted the most to make. That at the end of our life, if we can say this about each other, the rest doesn't matter. The rest is that rainstorm, or that blizzard, that fell around this one central truth, and maybe built itself in piles around it, to the point we lost sight of it along the way.

And I thought again of that little girl, and almost as an afterthought, wrote "The rest is confetti."

I liked the way it sounded, but I was insecure about the line. I almost took it out, in fact. I remember asking Kate to read the scene and talking about that last line with her. "Is it too cute?" I wondered. She was on the fence. "Depends on how it's acted," she said, and I figured she was right. We could always take it out if it didn't work. The scene could end with "I loved you completely, and you loved me the same. That's all."

Why not shoot it and see what happened.

I turned in the script, we published it quickly so that we could start breaking it down and prepping it. And the next morning I was back on set. I'd deal with episode 10 when it came down the pipe again, sometime in the coming months. We had a lot of shooting to get through before I had to worry about it.

I recall Netflix asking me to cut a lot of that monologue, and I remember them also having questions about the "confetti" line. I pointed out that it didn't cost us any extra to shoot it all, it was only words, and fought to keep the script intact.

Ultimately, they insisted I make a series of cuts on the page. I begrudgingly agreed, but left Nell's speech alone. I made superficial cuts around it, throughout the draft, and even considered changing the font size to fool them into thinking it had gotten shorter (I ultimately was told I wouldn't fool anyone and not to risk starting a war). But Nellie's final goodbye stayed intact.

It must be said - Victoria Pedretti SLAUGHTERED this scene.

By the time we got around to filming it, things had never been worse for the production. There was almost nothing left for a lot of us. Tensions were sky-high, resources had been exhausted completely, and we were all ready to give up.

Filming in the mold-ridden Red Room was depressing, morose, and led to a lot of arguments and unpleasantness. The room itself just felt gross, always, and we were in there for days at a time. The last thing we had to shoot in there was Nellie's goodbye.

Victoria came to set having to push through pages of monologue, and she did so with captivating bravado. I recall being teary-eyed at the monitor watching her work. And when we finally made it to the last line, I watched her deliver it with... a smile. A sincere, innocent, longing, joyful smile. A smile informed by the sadness, grief, and loss of her own situation, of her own life... but a smile that finds forgiveness and grace after all. Pedretti knew how to say the line, and how that word would work.

And as she said it, I knew it would stay in the show.

Over the years, that sentence has become something of a tagline for The Haunting of Hill House. I'm always a bit mystified and touched when I see people approach me with the line on T-shirts, or even tattooed on their bodies.

I started signing it with autographs back in 2020 after enough fans asked me to. Now it's my go-to when I sign anything related to Hill House.

The line, for me, represents a lot of things.

It's about the insane, chaotic, non-linear experience of making that show. It's about trying to find and hold onto joy, even in the grips of despair.

It's about the way the moments of our lives aren't linear, not really, and how we may be unable to understand them as we exist in their flurry. It's about finding hope, innocence and forgiveness in the final reckoning.

And it's about how, outside of our love for each other, the rest is just... well, it's fleeting. It's colorful. It's overwhelming. It's blinding. It's dancing. And, if we look at it right, it's beautiful. But it's also light. It's tinsel. It flits and dances and falls and fades, it's as light as air.

The rest is the stuff that falls around us, and flits away into nothing.

It's the love that stays.

[thebestofoneshots]

Waiting For a Girl Like You | wolfstar x reader

Pairing: R.L.. x S.B. x Gn!Reader (originally written as a woman but then I discovered I hadn't used any pronouns, and the reader was not particularly feminine, so it became my first official GN) Word Count: 5 k Warnings: None Prompt: Unbeknownst to many, your birthday has always been a quiet affair, you don't often celebrate it and you certainly weren't expecting for things to change the moment you met those two, enimagtic boys on your Creative Writing course. You could have not been more mistaken.

I got two requests a couple of weeks ago and I could not fulfil them on time for the life of me. Dear @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl sent me similar requests about a certain birthday fic and first of all, Guys your birthdays are on the same day, How cool is that!?! Second, I'm so sorry I took so long, but it's finally here!

I decided to combine the prompts since I thought it would be really cute for the story, and this is what I've come up with.

Hope you enjoy, darlings! I'm wishing you all the best! xx Lils

Written for @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl

You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays so far. Back in your hometown, it was the same day as a special celebration of the discovery of the mines and they held a huge, town-wide party for it. The party was great, a fair, balloons, cotton candy, everything great, everything kids loved. Unfortunately, it was so good that people tended to forget about your birthday since they were excited about Mining Day. 

Of course, people close to you remembered (your parents), but even though you had told your friends plenty of times that your birthday was on the same day, it had slipped their minds a good deal of times. You tried to make parties and people would prefer going to see the guest singer invited to the festival. You'd make them the next day and they were too tired to come. 

Eventually, you just gave up on celebrating your own birthday and decided to join the rest on Mining Day, enjoying the candies and everything in between. It might have not been your special day but it was a special day and that was as good as you’d get. Or so you thought. 

When you moved to London for university, you didn’t even think about telling your friends about your birthday, and they hadn’t asked either. That was until you took that Creative Writing side course and met them. You had been on time but the room had been filled to the brim with students, and there was nowhere to sit. You’d huffed and were about to leave to ask for a chair from a different classroom but when you turned around you bumped into the prettiest person your eyes had ever laid eyes upon, piercing grey eyes, long wavy hair, and features so elegant he looked royal.

He smiled, such a pretty smile. “Hey, you were going for one of these? I brought extra,” he said as he pulled one of the chairs up to signal what he was talking about. 

“Yeah,” you said shily. 

“Cool, come along then,” he said and you moved out of the way as he moved with the chairs. He moved his chairs all the way to a table where there was another stunning person sitting down. “What’s your name, Luv?” You replied with your name, soft and polite. “Pretty,” he said, flashing that same smile your way, meaning both you and your name, not that you knew. He accommodated the chairs, one next to each other, wiped his hands on his black jeans and then extended his hand to you. “Sirius Black.” 

You shook his hand and then the other boy’s warm smile caught your eye. “Remus Lupin,” he said with his hand extended as well. He had scars all over his body, but it didn’t make him any less handsome. Were you curious about them? Of course, you were. Were you gonna ask? No way in hell.

The boys had met each other at a boarding school in Scotland and had moved to London recently. Remus wanted to take a lit class and tried to convince his friends to join him but Sirius didn’t love the idea of a class where he’d have to read and analyse books, so he suggested taking something more on the creative side. 

Remus found the Writing Course and Sirius had been more than happy to join him. You and Remus actually had a lot in common, you discovered as the class went on. You had both read a lot, and you veered towards the same authors and storylines. You had an insane passion for Oscar Wilde and he loved Mary Shelly. You sometimes wondered if he liked her so much because of the way she described the Fiend, you truly hoped that wasn’t it, because while you could see how Rem would relate to the monster, you hated the idea of it, since you considered him absolutely stunning. 

Days had gone by, and while you always sat with the boys and hung out with them every time you saw them at school, you hadn’t really seen them outside of it, that was until you got a group assignment and Sirius was quick to place his arms around both you and Rem and claim you as his team. 

Remus scribbled your names on a piece of paper and handed them over to the teacher before she assigned each of you a different subject for your story. You got fantasy. The boys seemed to be diverted when you started talking about mythical creatures and wizards, and you assumed it had something to do with an inside joke they developed through the years of knowing each other.

They invited you over to their apartment that was just next to a corner cafe cleverly named “The Corner” and you had stopped by to get something for you and the boys, since you weren’t sure how long it would take and were now waiting just outside the door to their apartment complex. 

“We’re coming, Sweets,” Sirius’ voice said through the speakers as the door buzzed open to let you in. 

You used your shoulder to push inside and carefully moved the carton with the three coffee cups inside as you entered, your backpack strap got caught in the door and you were forced to turn around to and you opened the door again, placing the paper bag with fresh bread on your mouth to free one of your hands and pulled the strap free. 

When you turned around, you were shocked to find a smiling Sirius right in front of your face. “You shouldn’t have bothered, Luv!” he said and extended his hand towards your mouth, taking the paper bag and then the carton with the coffee from your hand.

“I wanted to,” you said simply. 

Sirius and you went up the stairs, Remus was waiting by the door and the two of them welcomed you in. For an apartment belonging to two boys, it was surprisingly neat. Remus had arranged his coffee table with a few cushions over the rug so you all could sit together, he had a couple of pens and pencils, his notebook and a stunning Remington Typewriter. 

You almost walked straight to look at it when you spotted it on the table, “This is her, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Remus said as he sat beside you. “Wanna try it?” 

“Can I please?” you asked, you had a Brother one at your apartment, and you adored her, but Remingtons were classics. His was from the 50s and it looked brand new. Rather than responding, Remus placed a paper through the platen and pushed it towards you. 

Since you didn’t actually have a plan to write something, you just typed the boys’ Name and then yours, right at the top of the paper. 

“What are we going to write then? Any ideas?” 

“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk about wizards?” Sirius asked with a smile. 

“But do you want to?”

He chuckled, “Of course, Sweets, we’d love to go for that.” He reclined his head on the sofa. “We’ve actually discussed it, and we have some ideas, don’t we Moony?” 

Remus shot a look at Sirius, who winked in return. 

“Yeah?” You asked as you turned your gaze to Sirius. “For the plot?”

“Mhm… hear me out. It’s a hidden school for wizards, you get there by taking a secret train hidden at King’s Cross. The school is full of magic and mysteries and ghosts and other magical creatures.” 

You frowned, “I don’t know… it sounds a little too surrealistic, doesn’t it?”

Sirius laughed at your statement and Remus threw pillow towards his face, you squirmed in your seat a little uncomfortably and then Rem placed his hand on your shoulder, “It’s okay, Dove. We don’t have to go for Sirius’ idea.”

“But he said you wanted to write about it too…”

“I’ll be happy with whatever we make. I know with our writing skills and Sirius’ creativity we’ll make something brilliant.” 

You pulled out your notebook and checked the list of ideas for the story you had to write. It had to be at least 50k words and you had three weeks to finish it. So the three of you would have to get writing as soon as possible, which meant you had to define the story and you had to define it fast. Most of your ideas were either unfinished, not doable in such a short time or had the opportunity to be integrated into Sirius’ magic school. 

“Okay, tell me more about your Wizard’s school.” 

Sirius smiled, threw a look at Remus –a satisfied sort of look– before turning back to you, “Okay, so the name is Wartshow: School for Wizardry and Witchcraft, and–“ 

“Doesn’t Witchcraft and Wizardry sound better, though?” 

Sirius licked his lips and smiled. “All right then, Wartshow: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” You wrote it down in your notebook. 

“It’s the story about a boy, a boy that thought they wouldn’t be able to assist even though he was a wizard.” 

“Sirius,” Remus said in a warning tone. 

“Shut up Moony, you’ll kill my inspiration.” 

“Why did he think that?” You asked. 

“Because he was bitten by a werewolf when he was 4.”

 Remus scoffed and stood up, “I’ll bring the snacks.” 

“Is he okay?” you asked. 

“He’s not a fan of my story,” Sirius said. “He says the main character is not a hero, but I differ.” 

You hummed in response. “What’s the boy’s name?” 

“Re- Andrew,” he said, “Andrew Renault.” 

“Renault? Is he french?” 

“No, I don’t– he is not.” 

“Okay, then we should go for a more English name, like… Remington?” 

“Andrew Remington? Sounds posh.” 

“As if  Sirius Black sounded less posh,” you joked and he scoffed playfully at you. He continued listing his ideas, telling you Remus’ story although he had changed the names of almost everyone. “Will there be dragons?” you asked after he had laid out the basic idea.

 “Dragons? Those are dangerous!” 

“Of course they are, but it’s more exciting than the…ugh” –you checked your notes– “boggart monster you mentioned.” 

“Dragons are definitely more exciting than Boggarts,” Remus said as he sat on the floor next to you. You couldn’t help but notice his scars, perhaps Sirius had used those as inspiration for Andrew. 

“Okay, so we’ll add dragons. What if there’s a dragon in the dungeons?” 

“No, in the dungeons there are snakes,” Sirius said as if it were a fact. He had clearly thought this out. 

“Okay… what about a secret room in the castle that has dragons? It’s magical, right? It could be bigger on the inside, like the TARDIS.” 

“The what?” Sirius asked, confused. 

“The TARDIS! From Doctor Who?” you said as if it were a fact, he still looked confused. “You do know what I’m talking about, right Rem?” 

“Is it a book?” he asked. 

“A book? How do you even call yourself Brits if you don’t know about Doctor Who? That’s it, Sunday, my house, we’re watching a marathon.” 

“Whatever you want, dove,” Remus said and handed you a piece of chocolate. 

“So, going back to the story. A room that’s bigger on the inside. Like a… Chamber of Secrets?”

“Sirius,” Remus warned again. 

“It’s what she said!” Sirius said defensively. 

After that, you finished plotting the small story in between the three, even with the slight reluctance you detected from Remus, you got around to defining all of your main characters, the challenges they’d go through and the resolution of the story. 

“By the way, tomorrow is our flatmate James’ birthday,” Sirius said as he closed the notepad he’d been writing on. “Wanna come to the party?” 

“I don’t think I’ve met James, though.” 

“It’s fine, he’ll love to meet you I’m sure,” Remus said. “When is your birthday?” 

“I–“ you hesitated, “I don’t really celebrate it.” 

“Why not? We should definitely celebrate the day you were brought into this world,” Sirius said. 

You smiled, Sirius could be the sweetest sometimes. “I don’t do parties…” 

“Because you don’t want to?” 

“No! It’s just… long story, don’t bother yourselves with it.” 

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Sirius offered. “In exchange, you give me your birthday, how about that?” 

You laughed, Sirius wasn’t the type to care too much about things, so you walked towards him and whispered the date in his ear. 

“Now yours?” you said as he leaned closer to you. 

“It’s all real, we are magicians from the school in our story,” he whispered. 

You laughed. “I thought you’d tell me a real secret, should have known,” you added as you shoved him, he just laughed and shrugged in response, as if he was saying it’s your loss, for not believing his lie. 

After that day, you hung out with them almost all the time, be it to watch movies, to continue that Doctor Who marathon, or to hang out with the boys on their birthdays. In fact, it was almost odd if you didn’t see each other in more than a couple of days, since they would find almost any reason to meet, Sirius would call and say ‘Hey, there’s a new movie I want to see, you coming with us?’

Or Remus would leave a note on your mailbox telling you to come with him to a library later that day since he had just finished the book he was reading and you were always the best at finding the right books. 

So. of course, you thought it was odd when, on the morning of your birthday, you called their apartment and got no response. Now you weren’t expecting a grandiose party, you weren’t even going to get a cake or anything, but you wanted to see them, maybe go out for dinner, or have a cinema night. You rang them again and still no answer. 

You sighed and walked towards school. You didn’t have that creative writing course today so you weren’t expecting to see them there, but perhaps on the lunch break, you’d find them in your usual spot. 

Your classes were rather tedious, an old professor that spoke very quietly and you had to sit at the very front to even hear him, and then another professor who almost always went over the same thing you’d seen in the first class. Always, round and round the same thing, with nothing new. At least you’d have a class with Professor Almain before lunch. It was your favourite class of the semester –aside from the writing course– and so far, you thought it’d be the highlight of your day. 

But when you got to his classroom, the room was empty and there was a short note on the board: Professor Almain is indisposed today. Study Chapters three and four of your book, you’ll be discussing them next class. The note was signed by Tobby Klein, his assistant. 

You sighed and sat down on one of the chairs, sulking as you took out the book mentioned and started to read. Someone else tried to enter the room a few minutes later, and when they realised there would be no class, they left the classroom instantly. Perhaps they had something better to do, you didn’t. 

You had taken that class as an extracurricular, so you barely knew the students in it, and your classmates were in a class you had taken online, so you couldn’t exactly go search for any of them. You could have gone to the library, but it also seemed unnecessary when you had a perfectly quiet classroom all to yourself. 

You were about halfway through the chapter when you heard someone knocking on the glass window. When you turned you spotted Sirius waving his hand at you with a bright, pearly smile. He looked as dashing as ever. It was ridiculous how pretty you still thought he was even when you saw him all the time. 

He entered the room shortly after. “What are you here all alone?” he asked as he pulled a chair next to yours and pressed a short kiss on your cheek as a greeting. Sirius did that all the time, you’d assumed it was because he was half French. 

“Class was cancelled,” you said as you pointed to the board. “Had nowhere to go. Aren’t you supposed to be in class too?” 

He hummed in response. “It’s that stupid advanced maths class Moony convinced me to take, I was falling asleep and asked to go to the bathroom to throw some water at my face when I spotted you.” 

“You should go back.” 

“To maths? Rather than staying with you? Yeah, right!” 

A small smile appeared on your lips as you stared at him while shaking your head in disbelief. “What if you fail, though?” 

“I’m not going to fail,” he said with a shrug. “Moony can tell me what it was about later. Wanna grab something to eat? My treat.” 

You nodded and pulled your bag from the ground. “I was actually going to invite you guys over tonight,” you said as you opened the zipper and placed the book inside the bag, “I mean I’m sure you don’t remember, and I don’t really want to make anything big but–“ 

“That today is your birthday?” Sirius asked. 

You turned to him in shock, “You– you…” 

“How on earth would I forget?” he said with a smile. “It’s the day my best girl was born. They should make a fucking parade for you.” 

You felt your cheeks warm at Sirius’ grandiose attitude. “Come on,” he said as he stood up and offered his hand. “It feels like a day for ice cream, want some?” 

You nodded and he dragged you towards the parking lot, his hand not leaving yours at all, you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest since you suspected he had a thing with Remus, but it was almost impossible when he looked at you with his stunning grey eyes. 

He took out the helmet they’d gotten you when they started offering to take you on rides from Moony’s bike and handed it over. It was a full-face black helmet that matched the one the two of them wore almost perfectly, but while Moony’s had a half moon and Sirius’ had a star, yours had both. 

It had been Remus who added the matching moon, and Sirius –who instantly got jealous over it– painted a star right in the middle, he was exceptionally good at painting, sometimes you wondered why he didn’t study art. Then again, you weren’t sure what exactly they were studying, since they had taken classes from more than four different degrees as if they had only picked the few classes that they were interested in.

 You took the helmet in between your hands and hopped on Sirius’ bike. He drove you to the small park that was just a couple of minutes from the school and got you your favourite ice cream from the small ice cream shop James had discovered a while back. 

“So, about tonight?” 

“Moony has a thing,” Sirius said with an apologetic smile. “He has a big presentation tomorrow and he’s working on it with his team tonight, they’ll be using the rooftop of our apartment for it, I believe.” 

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. 

Sirius bit his lip, “Why don’t you come over?” 

“I wouldn’t want to be a distraction, I mean–“ 

“I don’t have to work on any projects,” Sirius said. “We could play chess, watch a movie while he finishes and then we order something to eat.” 

“You– do you really think that’s a good idea?” you asked, uncertain, as you brought your ice cream to your mouth.

“For sure,” he said. “We could get a cake and–“ 

“No cakes.” 

“But you like cakes!” 

“Not on my birthday.” 

“That’s ridiculous! You have something on your face.” 

“Where?” you asked. 

“There,” he said as leaned his finger close to you and smeared some of his ice cream over your cheek. You gasped in shock. 

“Sirius!” you admonished.

“Yes, Luv?” he responded, as if you had just called him.

You used the napkin wrapped around your cone to clean your cheek, “That was uncalled for.” 

“I don’t know about that, your cheeks looked like they needed some ice cream,” he said while trying, and failing to hold back a smile, he pulled a napkin from his pocket, much like a magician would do, and handed it over to you. You were about to take it from his hand, but he shook his head and wrapped his fingers around your chin and turned your head to the side softly. “Allow me.” 

He took longer than needed while whipping your cheek, but he didn’t exactly want to pull apart, and you didn’t want him to pull apart either. 

“There you go.” 

“It’s sticky now,” you teased. 

“Nothing can keep you happy, can it, Sweetheart?” he said dramatically and wrapped his arm over your shoulders and leaned his head on yours. 

You just laughed. Sirius convinced you to skip the next class and stay with him at the park and then took you home. 

“Want me to pick you up?” He asked as you got down from the bike. He had propped the small side stand down and was leaning on the handlebar. You could hardly believe he had driven you all around looking that handsome, with his leather jacket, and high boots. Sirius was pretty all the time, but sometimes he felt more like a fictional character than like an actual human. 

You saw a girl eyeing him as she passed by, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and nod. “Yeah, that would be lovely. At 7?” 

He smiled, gave you a short wink, and put his helmet back on. “See you soon, Sweetheart.” He said, voice slightly muffled by the helmet before he drove off. You entered your apartment shortly after, and it took you a whole minute to recover. It’s not that you hadn’t gone out with Sirius plenty of times, but this one seemed a lot more like a date than all of the previous ones. 

You took a snack bar from your pantry, went for a shower, and asked your classmates about the class you’d missed. A friend of yours told the teacher that you were feeling sick to cover for you and he said he wouldn’t count the absence (it was the first time you missed that class anyway), and you had always been rather participative. 

After that, you grabbed the book you’d been reading and read until it was 7. The light outside had already gone out, and you took some chocolates you’d bought for Remus last week and placed them in your backpack, it was then that you heard the familiar honk of Sirius’ Triumph.

You walked downstairs and met him outside. He switched his band tee for a snug turtleneck sweater that fit him obscenely well and was still wearing his leather jacket. You had kept your helmet and put it on as you approached his bike. 

“You smell nice,” you said as you sat behind him.

“You think?” he asked, playing dumb. “Maybe it’s the aftershave,” he added as he pulled the side stand up and drove into the street. You eyed him suspiciously, not that you could see much while he had his helmet on but you still did.

By the time you arrived at their apartment, you had forgotten all about your suspicion and were just leaning onto Sirius as much as you could, since the night had grown a lot colder than you expected it would. Sirius parked his bike just outside and the two of you walked the three floors of stairs to their apartment.

You expected to see James lounging around like he often did, but he was not there, and Sirius told you Remus was on the terrace at the top, doing his thing, so you walked towards the sofa while Sirius offered to make you a cup of tea.

“Remus bought the one you like,” he said, pulling out a box with the tea you had tried a while back. You had fallen in love with the flavour, but you never found it in the supermarket –it was from a small tea shop at Diagon Alley, so really, there would be no way for you to find it.

“Okay,” you said, “got milk?” 

Sirius nodded towards the fridge and you helped him by pulling out the milk and some biscuits. When your cup was ready, he handed it over to you and took a sip of his own. He glanced at the clock quickly, so quick you barely even noticed and then smiled. It was that mysterious smile of his that told you he was up to something. “We should go see Remus.” 

“What? I thought he was working on his project.” 

“He probably is, but you haven’t seen him all day, I’m sure he wants to at least give you a birthday hug.” 

“A birthday hug?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Yes! A birthday hug! We’ll bother him for a bit and then we come back and you tell me about that book you’ve been reading. The one with the character you said reminds you of me.” 

“You’re so full of yourself,” you said with a laugh as you nodded and followed along with him. 

As you reached the top of the stairs you heard some shuffling on the other side of the door. Sirius was the one to open it first, but none of the lights they normally had were up. 

“Maybe they went to do their homework at the Corner Cafe,” you told Sirius as you turned to him. Suddenly all the lights turn on, including candles and the hanging fairy lights at the top. 

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices sang.

You were startled, Remus and James were right in front of their small table, and there was a cake right in front of them. They had invited their friend Lily, who was dating James and with whom you were fairly close to. She was the first one to approach you.

“I can’t believe Sirius was the one to tell me when your birthday was, Luv! He used to forget mine all the time!” She turned to Sirius with an accusing gaze and then back at you. “Happy Birthday,” she added as she hugged you. 

James gave you a short squeeze after and Remus wrapped you in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Sirius joined the hug right after. 

“You’re squeezing me, boys!” you complained in a laugh. 

“It’s a birthday squeeze, deal with it,” Sirius responded, and pressed even closer. 

“Remus?” you tried, he was the most reasonable one between the two. 

“You heard Sirius, Dove. It’s the birthday squeeze.” 

You must have stayed like that for at least a minute before either of the two let go of you, you were certain Lily had whispered something to James, but you were too busy basking on the wrath of the squeeze to bother. After that, you would have sworn the lights of the cake turned on by themselves as Lily walked over to you with it. They sang Happy Birthday while Sirius pulled you to sit on his lap, using the terrible excuse that there was no other seat available. 

You had cake and then they handed over your gifts. A book from Lily and a chocolate frog from James, although he warned you not to open it until later. You didn’t know what that was about but decided to do what was told. Eventually, Lily said she had to go and James offered to walk her. 

Although he said ‘I’ll fly you’ getting a look from Remus that you missed entirely. The boys had extended a pair of matts over the deck and you were all laying on them while gazing at the stars. 

“It was lovely, thank you for the surprise,” you said as you looked at the waning moon. 

“It was nothing, Luv,” Rem said.

“Remus was really eager to celebrate your birthday. We actually have a little present for you,” Sirius added. 

“Really?” you asked, turning to Sirius.

“Mhm,” he nodded. 

“Open the frog,” Remus prompted. 

You leaned forwards and sat on the mat, pulling the frog from the table and doing what told. Suddenly the Frog that looked like it had been made out of chocolate jumped and fell near Remus’ leg. You gasped and stared at the moving frog. It looked like chocolate, but it moved as if it were alive. 

“What– did James give me an actual frog?” 

“No, it’s chocolate,” Remus reassured and picked it up. The frog stilled in his hand. 

You stared at it in disbelief, “Is this some sort of trick?” 

“It’s magic,” Sirius said. 

You frowned at him.

“Remember the story for our class? The one that we worked on together?” 

“Wartshow, Andrew, yeah of course.” 

“Well, It’s sort of real.” 

“What?” 

Remus pulled out his wand and handed it over to you. You stared at it, it looked like a wand, it felt like a wand, but there was no way it was magic because magic– “Is this some kind of trick?” 

Sirius laughed and pulled out a different wand from his pocket, he whispered something and red sparks blew out from the tip. You swallowed and took it from his hands. Checking on it to see if there was some kind of trick, or cannon dust or something inside of it, but it was just a stick, fancy, but a stick. 

Remus took his wand and with another set of words, levitated the small frog right in front of your face. You looked at it with eyes wide open and moved your hand all over it to make sure it really was floating, and it wasn’t some kind of invisible string trick. It was right in front of your eyes, and it was still too fascinating to believe.

“But… in our story, wizards couldn’t tell the non-wizards about their existence. It was meant to be a secret… I mean… Why are you telling me?” 

Remus smiled, his hand searched yours and he leaned his head on top of yours and sighed. “Because we trust you,” he said while looking ahead, at nothing in particular.

Sirius searched for your other hand, making sure to turn it around and interwinning his fingers with yours. He placed his head on your shoulder. “Because we like you.” 

You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays, but this had been one of the nicest birthdays of them all, more so when your two crushes admitted what Sirius had meant by his words. That they liked you –romantically– not just as friends. 

A/N: I am so, SO sorry for taking this long to finish your gift, but I made it a bit longer than initially planned to make up for it.

Hope you both had the most amazing birthday and that you're having a wonderous day today. Sending you lots of love, hope you enjoy this little thing <3

[s-awturn]

Written by Lana Del Rey || F1 Dilfs

cw: a little obscene, nostalgic feeling, cute, sweet love, some jokes about age, suggestions for sugar daddy x sugar baby behavior

a/n: I didn't tell you, but I finally got out of the unemployment statistics and this week didn't help me feed the creativity for what I have open, I sketched a few things here and there, However, nothing came out to my liking, so I focused my efforts on other things and here we are. And obviously, I'm focused on my new hyperfixation, enjoy!

starring: Toto Wolff, Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Jenson Button, Mark Weber, Kimi Raikkonen.

TOTO WOLFF, be my daddy.

“You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

If you're seeking heaven

Then you wanna come and get it, get it”

Considering the age difference between you two was almost 25 years, you used to joke with Toto about him being your sugar daddy. Not that you were with him because of any advantage that Toto could benefit you, but that didn't mean he wouldn't give you gifts or try to make your life easier in any way he could.

And by God, he loves to spoil you, give you expensive gifts, take you to extravagant surprises, if that makes him your sugar daddy, he doesn't care, after all he's not even close to stopping.

“I already told you that you don’t need to spend money on me, Torger” You returned the box with the Bulgari emblem on the lid. You knew it was the watch you had glimpsed in the display case a few weeks ago. Toto was getting uncontrollable.

“And I couldn’t care less about that, accept it” he pushed the box back to you “there’s no chance of this being returned, just take it”

SEBASTIAN VETTEL, say yes to heaven.

“Cause I've got my eye on you

I've got my eye on you”

From the moment you met him, you knew it would be impossible to take your eyes off him. Sebastian He caught your attention from the first moment you saw him. You spent weeks talking about him, how attentive he had been in the interview he gave you, how kind and helpful he was. It was no surprise that you were in love with the Formidable Sebastian Vettel.

But it was a surprise to discover that he reciprocated your feelings.

“I thought you were reading,” he said without taking his eyes off the puzzle he was putting together. You felt your cheeks flush as you were caught red-handed.

“And I was,” you confessed, dropping the book on the arm of the couch, “but I thought I told you that sometimes it’s impossible to keep my eyes off you,” and it was his turn to blush.

FERNANDO ALONSO, off to the races.

“My old man is a tough man

But he got a soul as sweet as blood red jam

And he shows me, he knows me”

People said that Fernando had bad posture, he was a difficult guy to deal with. But you never cared about that, because with you, he was nothing more than putty in your hands, he could be as hard as a rough diamond and as sweet as fruit jelly.

Fernando didn't care about being labeled as a difficult guy, he just needed to be good to you, the rest could go away and he didn't care. It wasn't like he could stop himself from being soft on you, after all you dug deep into his chest until you had his entire heart in your hands.

“I love knowing that only I have your soft side, Nano” you say, kissing his chin before giving a startled little scream as you are thrown onto the bed.

“Not for long, tesoro” He murmurs, giving sweet bites to your bare thighs. You giggled before grabbing his hair.

JENSON BUTTON, video games.

“Heaven is a place on Earth with you

Tell me all the things you wanna do

I heard that you like the bad girls, honey

Is that true?”

If a few years ago, someone had told you that you were with Jenson Button, you would have laughed out loud in disbelief. After all, there was no way you could have fallen in love with him, not by the guy who was the very meaning of the word “scoundrel” in the dictionary. You wouldn't believe it if someone told you that Jenson would give you his very idea of Heaven on Earth, that Jenson would look at you like you were the only thing keeping him on the planet.

He made you feel unique, and to him, you are the only one.

“You should sleep, peach,” he murmurs sleepily, tightening his arm around your waist. You felt your whole body heat up, few things in the world were better than Jense's sleep-husky voice.

“I don’t feel tired, Jen” you slide your nails down the back of his neck.

“Then let me tire you out, peach” he says, getting under the sheets and the next sound was his moan across the room.

MARK WEBBER, summertime sadness.

“Kiss me hard before you go

Summertime sadness

I just wanted you to know

That, baby, you're the best”

There are the good things in life, and then there is Mark Webber. Sometimes you couldn't believe you had managed to marry him. Despite all the hustle and bustle that surrounds his life, the few intervals of time he spends with you at home, you can't help but feel lucky to have him, Mark had brought you the peace and tranquility you had been searching for.

And all of that made it worth it every time he went out to work, because Mark may have left Formula One, but Formula One never left Mark.

“Don't study too much, I know your thesis needs to be done quickly, but you need to rest, princess,” he says, watching the car pull up at the front door. “And eat right, you can't spend fifteen days eating only instant noodles”

“It's your fault if you got me addicted to your food, love... But I promise I'll take care of myself" you reply before kissing him, enjoying the last moments of his summer vacation. “Call me when you land and go to bed early, you're not young enough to stay up all night.”

He rolled his eyes “I thought we were past the age jokes phase.”

“Never”

KIMI RAIKKONEN, bad boy.

“Baby ghetto love

Mama knows I like the bad boys”

And there was nothing he could do to stop you, when he noticed, you were already infiltrated into his skin, hidden under the entire layer of ice. And Kimi wouldn't allow anyone to try to take you away from there, you had already received the title of Raikkonen girl.

He was the kind of man her mother said would break her heart, Kimi was the perfect kind of bad boy.

He wasn't called the Iceman for nothing, Kimi was the most indifferent person you've ever seen in your life, No one could be that stoic except Kimi Raikkonen. And not even his usual coldness stopped you from approaching him, you seemed drawn to him like a moth to a flame, you wanted to know what was underneath all that ice.

“Your mother hates me anyway, so what difference will a bottle of wine make?” he asks, pressing the buttons on the joystick.

“And I’m still labeled as the bad guy in this story,” he murmurs, dropping the controller anywhere before kissing her.

“It’s not for her, it’s for me,” you reply, sitting on his lap, not caring about disturbing his game. “Only drunk can I put up with you two exchanging barbs all dinner long.”

gif credits: hookhausenchips, lostfxwn, tur80, the-offside-rule, vro0m, summerblueringo.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.

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[slayingfiction]

How I push through writing when I don't feel like writing.

Here are some of the techniques that I use to help me write more often or more consistantly when my laziness/depression/anxiety starts to take over.

I watch TV. I don't do it with the purpose of zoning out though. I watch something popular and well-liked such as the LOR or Harry Potter to get new ideas on how I can develop my story and apply their in-depth world-building ideas to help develop mine. Without plagarizing of course!!!!

Zoning out and daydreaming. As I have mentionned before, daydreaming is a huge part of my story outlining and world-building process. I'll stand in the shower, or take a walk and think about how my charcaters would act/react/behave in situations, mundane or not. Doing this gives me a better sense of my characters, and sometimes gives me ideas for scenes I use later on.

Work on writing related projects. These work well at keeping me distracted while still being productive on my writing goals. Example, I have one story I am working now, I made a new language (alphabet and numbers included) to include as a cool and fun component for the book. So, at times when I don't wan't to write, I continue creating the dictionary (very fun, 8/10 would recommend). Also, for the same book, my characters don't work off the Georigian calendar and 24 hour clock, so I've been working at creating a new calendar (harder than it seems, 2.5/10 dont recommend). These are side projects that help my story, without having to write.

Reading. You saw this one coming, I know. Reading is great, especially when you're editing, your writing style will unconsciously change to be more similar the author you were just reading. Also, most importantly, I'll be reading and think, "this story is really good, but you know what story I like even better? Mine." then change to writing.

This one is my biggest life saver!! I learnt about a year ago that sometimes I'll get bored of writing a story, and have difficulty keeping on track. That's why I finished my first book in 2016 and just started editing the first draft last week. The solution for me was to work on multiple projects at once, because it was much harder to be bored of multiple stories. I stick to 2, but will sometimes add a third. This is easy for me, because I have a list of over a dozen series I want to write. Don't abandon one project for another, use them as a distraction/ motivation for each other, so you're always furthering at least one project. I've never heard someone say, "oh no, i accidentally worked on this other writing project for three months instead of the other writing project I was doing. Dammit." No, we're just happy we have written something. Be sure to have well outlined story lines before starting, don't just start writing randomly or you'll reach a point where you don't know where to go from there.

Author/ writer projects. Maybe this is building a following, or community to share your projects and engage with. Tumblr, Insta, Reddit, whatever it is. My hope this year is to start up my website to offer publishing services (editing, graphic design, short writing courses) and build a following as a writer. (See what I did there? Never a bad time to self-promote ;) ) Having your own projects like this will help you in the future when you're going to try to publish and sell your books!

Talk with friends and a writing community. Never underestimate the passion that will burn inside you when talking about your story, or when others are talking about theirs. Surrounding yourself with a positive writing community can be the best thing for you as a writer.

Write or read (your story) every day. I'm not going to be one of those people that say you need to write 1000 words a day, that's a lot. But maybe try for 100? That could maybe only take 5 minutes, and at the end of the year that's still over 36 thousand words of a novel. Or just read your story, and I've always found it helped me get in the creative mood.

Make a playlist of songs that remind you of your characters, your story, or just puts you in the mood to write. Then play it ONLY when you're having trouble writing. Playing it while writing will not help, you'll get annoyed with the songs.

Just really can't do it today? That's okay, take a break. You deserve it. There's always tomorrow.

Does anyone else have ways they push themselves to keep writing? Let us know in the comments!

Happy Writing!

[copperbadge]

I was making breakfast and listening to an episode of Just King Things this morning, which is a podcast I do recommend -- two very smart English teachers are reading the books of Stephen King in publication order and discussing them. This could go extremely awry except they're both highly conscious of his failings as well as his skill, so they do really well handling a lot of his less salutatory content.

They've hit the point in King's ouvre (this episode was about Hearts In Atlantis) that follows his recovery from the car accident that very nearly killed him, where he was struck by a van while out walking. One of them pointed out that it seems as though he came back from nearly dying determined to write the wildest shit imaginable and only write what he wanted, which struck a chord in me this time despite having listened to this episode before. Perhaps because I was thinking about my own writing and where it's going in the short term (there are a couple of short stories I want to do that I don't quite have a way into yet). I generally don't think about the drift of my creativity in the long term because when I do I usually draw the wrong conclusions.

I don't really classify my life, the way some people who've had high-impact injuries do, as before-TBI and after-TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury -- the fairly severe concussion I had in January of 2020). For one thing, given I had to cancel a trip to NYC because of it, it may have saved my life; I almost certainly would have caught COVID as someone with known lung issues in New York at the time. For another, the TBI was way scarier to almost everyone else; for me it was just one more dumb injury I gave myself and I didn't even remember most of it so it hardly registered. I used to open the story of it with a joke about waking up not remembering going to bed the night before, but nobody ever found it funny.

It's true that there are changes it wrought in my life, though. Even practical stuff like making sure my living space doesn't have tripping hazards and continuing to wear a fitbit even though I don't really need to (the fitbit told us, the morning after, exactly when the concussion happened, because it registered a heart-rate spike when I fell). For weeks after, I had to move slowly and put off making important decisions because I couldn't trust my physical or intellectual judgement; I didn't even jaywalk in my own neighborhood because I couldn't be sure I was judging the cars' speeds properly. For about a year after I had periodic post-concussion syndrome which basically just slammed me back into concussion space, which wasn't painful or upsetting but was definitely inconvenient.

And it's also undeniable that my writing shifted after the injury. It's not necessarily because of the injury, since my initial recovery from the TBI and the declaration of quarantine happened at roughly the same time, and anyone who tells you that a years-long global pandemic didn't impact their artistic expression is selling you a line. But the last thing I wrote before the TBI was the first draft of Six Harvests, and aside from the Six Harvests publication draft, which had fairly minimal changes, almost all that I've written has been blue-sky, light-hearted, PG-rated romance. It's been on my mind that I've been writing different subject matter from what I used to, but the timing of it didn't strike me until just recently.

I don't mind, really. I love fandom and I support fanfic in whatever expression it comes, but I'm also happy writing my own stories. While I'm aware it's been years since I've meaningfully written fanfic, it doesn't bother me per se, as long as I'm writing. It bothered me much more when I could write fanfic but not original fic, especially in those last few awful months at my last job. I'm proud of the literary and non-genre fiction I've written in the past, but it's also much more trying and frustrating to write at times, so I'm enjoying having a different sort of challenge that feels more fulfilling in the process. I'm sure at some point I'll go back to literary fiction -- there are ways in which it's hard to avoid turning the later Shivadh novels into literary fiction, being honest -- but for now I like what I'm writing, and I'm writing primarily to please myself and without regard to what's necessarily rational or linear.

Just struck me, is all, that it's by far the most noticeable major shift in my work. I do sort of wonder what will be next.

[jealousmartini]

💌 She's an overachiever. "Pressure"? What pressure? ⋆₊˚⊹🔖

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

My second year of college is coming in hot guys. And I'm talking the 3rd of September, in TWO WEEKS TIME HOT.

But you already know your girl has BEEN locked in with her subliminals for the next term, cus I've had a whole thing going on since my first term to my second yk. so come a little closer so I can show yall what my game is on

p.s.a!! I am an animation and games art student, so most to all of my work is research and art based. And when I say most of my work is research based, I mean there is an ungodly amount of writing that is expected from the students and it's not even just the amount it's WHAT you write about that gets you the grade and how well your art conveys your ideas.

Also "Ex." = Example

╰┈➤ " My average college day experience as an art student/loass babe " click here!

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

"What? Like it's hard?" At the top of her class, always ontop of her work, never slacking off, always locking in.

   ── .✦  ┆  𖤐  ┆  ␥ 

|| Perfect focus, super attentive, always pays attention and makes notes. I am never afraid to ask for help or advice and I always receive the answers I need to understand the work; no room for confusion here.

|| Very strong, clear memory, perfect photographic memory.

|| Studies so much, it's my hobby, never underestimates myself or downplays my work, has always prioritised my work and has always understood the importance of doing work at home. Studying has never been a struggle for me because I don't struggle with discipline. I actually find so much fun and enjoyment doing homework. I always feel so productive and proud of myself whilst managing my time and looking at the amount I have done afterwards. Especially with the amount of validation and points I earn from teachers. It is always so satisfying seeing my high grades after a complete project. It's like a treat.

|| Creative genius, always brainstorms with words or loose sketches; not a single idea goes to waste. Research enthusiast, I could never shy away from making a thorough, detailed, and well planned out analysis, moodboard or mindmap. And multiple of them at that. I always know EXACTLY what to write and never wastes precious time and space yapping.

|| The life of an art student is exciting, fulfilling, flourishing, inspiring and strict. In the healthy way of course. My parents and teachers are always understanding of my burnouts and art block which are very rare thank god; and it's a good thing I have my closest friends to comfort me through my work. They are always so supportive, encouraging and honest with me as I am with them. We always travel together to the college (when I don't feel like being alone) and we always travel back home together. I mean we are our own personal friend circle so of course we buy snacks for each other and meet up for lunch; it's not even like we need to worry about price since we have more than enough on us. College is 100 times better when my best friends are with me, everything feels so comfortable with them

|| Perfect, cunty, and ideal artstyles. Always chooses the ones most appropriate for a certain design, and never forgets how to convey a certain look. I know, understand and draw human, animal, vehicle, clothing anatomy and terminology, enviromental composition, colour theory and terminology, the 12 principles of animation, the 7 fundamentals of art (Line, pattern, colour, texture, tone, shape and form), and the fundamentals of character design like the back of my hand

|| I know how to layout a design page appropriately, I always know how to theme and colour co-ordinate. Written placement and art placement are always perfect to the T and nothing looks off. All together, I show off my own unique style of work and impress my teachers of classmates

Ex. Subliminals in my art student playlist

"Over achiever", "Desired art skills", "Desired (college) life"

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

"Ugh she is always doing the most with her work😒-" And she always looks good doing it. She's got the looks and the discipline; she's got it all

   ── .✦  ┆  𖤐  ┆  ␥ 

|| Gorgeous, curly, and ideal (3B to 3C) hair. My hair never gets greasy, dry, breakage, damage, frizz, dandruff, or split ends. My curls are always moisturised, soft, bouncy, and defined. I never experience a bad hair day, and my hair is super easy to manage. Detangling my hair is a breeze, and styling my hair is even easier; every style looks exactly the way I want it and never loses the volume or shape throughout the day.

|| Ideal, fit, slim thick pear. Short shoulders, small ribcage, medium-sized chest, 20 inch waist, wide hips and slight dip, long legs, fat ass but not too fat, chubby but fit thighs, slimmer defined calves and small feet. The perfect pear. And every outfit looks exactly the way I want; I never look awkward but I always look put together and stylish.

|| Craziest face card. Ms. Face economy infact. I have a round heart shaped face with dark brown bambi eyes and long fluttery lashes, a medium straight nose bridge, plump pink "keyhole" lips, and the clearest, softest brown skin ever... Yet I still put make up on- yes I do because it's fun and I like it, so it's always awesome knowing I can do my make up flawlessly and nail my looks perfectly

Ex. Subliminals in my ideal appearance playlist

"3C hair type", "Pear body", "Desired face", "brown caramel skin"

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

I'll probably add smore later :3 k bye

[inkskinned]

hey it's nanowrimo. i have tips bc i've done it about 34 times.

Don't edit. Ever. Stop it. If you just decide to start a new project half thru this one with all new characters, no problem. pick up and keep writing as if you'd already written the first half of that.

"but i spelled it wrong" whatever. "but the grammar" whatever. make it exist first. no time for sense. think like you're working on a typewriter. no backspace. only forward go.

Don't re-read further than a paragraph or two backwards. "did i mention the gun before?" listen - it doesn't matter. if you need there to be a gun there, the gun is there. put it back in once you finish the book.

"i forgot the specifics of X thing i already wrote" whatever. change it, make a note/comment to figure it out later, and just write what makes sense for the moment. "no raquel it's legit the characters name and origin" idc that character is now reborn as Claudius from Elsewhere. it's fine.

only you see your mistakes. nobody else knows. one of the ways writing and dance overlap - only you know the choreography. nobody else will know if you miss a step, so just keep dancing and pretend you meant to do it like that.

it's an illusion that you need to write linearly - from point A to point B to point C. Nah; that's just timeline propaganda. I've written a LOT of books out of order and just reordered them once i've finished. if you have a scene you'd LOVE to write but can't get there yet because of plot, just fuckin write the scene. I've always found its easier to establish "point F" "point J" and "Point A" and then wiggle my way between those scenes.

write what you WANT to write. 230 pages of smut? of well-researched discussion on bread? whatever. the point is to strengthen muscles however you can.

if you miss a day, a week, whatever. not the end of the world. we all have dry days. also time is a myth so u can do this challenge whenever u want.

as soon as you try to write for a specific audience, you kill your voice. you are writing for yourself. stop thinking about how people will take ur book. it don't matter. what matter is u, enjoying writing. i luv u.

play to your strengths. i have characters talk so much because i don't know how to write a plot if it kills me but i'm really good at dialogue so.

i love a flight of fancy. write a poem in there. shift tactics and write in code. keep it fun for yourself.

see what happens if you shift something major about ur main characters - gender, wealth, superpowers. or if you change point-of-view. or if you kill everyone in a big explosion. do NOT edit anything before this or after it. often these little weird one-off exercises teach me what interests me about what i'm working on. it is never what i thought. plus it is a fun way to add like 1k words.

stretch.

it's for fun and for practice. stop doing that project if it's giving you anxiety. once my nano was literally 50k words of half-started stories. just things i tried and tried and tried and wasn't able to flesh out. oops. but i am now 50k words of a better writer.

add dragons?

read books/listen to books on tape/etc. people often make the mistake of "buckling down" to just write. you need inspiration. you need to like. fill up on words. you need to remember how it feels to lose yourself in a story.

i don't have the time or space to really talk about this in this post but a lot of creative people turn to drugs/alcohol because it can help you be more creative. this is harmful, and walking a blade that only cuts deep. if you notice you and your loved ones are turning more to substances, please know i love you and i hope you are able to get help soon. i feel like this almost never gets mentioned because it's kind of a hazy underbelly to art. you are always more important than the work.

on that note. drink your fukin. water.

don't talk about a story until you've finished it. once you tell the story, it exists already, and isn't about discovery. i usually have a very canned "haha we'll see" response.

grapes :) tasty snack.

i love you be free.

[xoxoemynn]

A few months ago I was lucky enough to win a raffle prize from @adoptourcrew for a bookbinding from @/brainrotpam. I ask her to do a book binding for The Merry Strays of Lighthouse Sanctuary, which was no small undertaking as the story is just shy of 120K. But hooooly shit, I just got it in the mail this week, and she absolutely outdid herself. Just incredible, outstanding work. I'm in awe.

Here are some pictures!! There's also a video here of Pam flipping through it so you can see the gorgeous edge papers as well, so please check that out if you're at all interested in bookbinding, or even if you just like pretty things because it is so, so pretty. The book is 366 (!!!!) beautiful pages and I'm so, so in love with it.

This story is extremely special to me. It wasn't the first fic I wrote for OFMD, but somehow it always feels like it was. I wanted the setting of the fic to feel the same way the show itself made so many of us feel — a place where we could feel safe, loved, and celebrated for exactly who we are. And somehow, it feels even more poignant to me after the cancellation. We'll always have the show, and this universe will always have the Sanctuary.

This story is the longest thing I've ever written, in a genre that was totally new to me, making it by far the most ambitious project I'd undertaken up to that point. And I wrote it all not too long after assuming I was done with fandom, and any sort of creative writing, for good. Oh, how OFMD changes our best-laid plans.

ANYWAY, feeling so deeply grateful to Pam for doing this, for AOC for coordinating the raffle to raise money for so many amazing orgs while getting fans fun prizes, and for the entire fandom for being such a welcoming, enriching space that has given me so much. I love you all. 💖

[echantedtoon]

Good evening Grande Starbucks Frappe!! ✨✨

This is oddly specific so feel free to not take all the details into account and creative freedom and all that but perhaps Genya x Reader where Sanemi terrified our ass at the beginning of the year and now reader is scared of both Shinazugawa brothers despite Genya harbouring a crush? Just thought it'd be funny to see him despairing and demanding why Sanemi had to ruin his chances so badly-

ANYWAYS CONGRATS AGAIN ON YOUR 500 IM SORRY IT'S SO SPECIFIC HAVE A NICE NIGHT

Firstly THANK YOU IM SO HAPPY! 😭 Secondly sure. @six-eyed-samurai

This is written as a female s/o since it's easier for me to write I hope that's ok. For this Genya and reader are both 18 in their senior year so slightly aged up Genya and Co.

-You were the newest student in Kimetsu Academy, just transferred over from another school when your parents moved you closer to your father's workplace. You weren't too nervous. Some of your friends went to the school so it's not like you wouldn't go in not knowing anyone. However your first day was anything but a good start.

-First you were really late because your mom's car got a flat tire on the way to driving you there. Then you dropped your coin purse containing your lunch money outside while you were rushing into the school. A teacher happened to have noticed that you dropped it but you didn't hear him calling out to you. Then you got laughed at when you busted into the chemistry class (which was the first class you had) and got both laughed at by a lot of the other students and chewed out by Professor Obanai for being late to his class. Then when lunch came around you had to sit down and go hungry except for some spare things given by your friends because you didn't have money or brought your own lunch. Just when you think it couldn't get any worse too-

-Sanemi, the scariest teacher in the entire School even more than Professor Obanai, had just roughly pushed the door to the cafeteria open and his narrowed eyes scanning the area until they lasered focused on you. "HEY YOU!" The entire place silences immediately terrified at the sounds of the scary man's voice. "NEW GIRL!!" You feel yourself freeze up on the spot as the heavily scarred man comes marching up towards you looming over your terrified form before a cute teddy bear themed coin purse is roughly pushed into your shaking hands. "I've been trying to fucking track you down all day! Don't forget your purse outside again!"

-Its cannon in Kimetsu Gauken that Sanemi likes kids and respects women but most are scared by his appearance and honestly sometimes he comes off as scary without meaning too. Sanemi honestly wasn't trying to scare you, he was genuinely just trying to return your purse to you but he wasn't socially aware enough to realize that calling out a trembling girl in the middle of everyone and looming over her scared you so much that you became very scared of your new math teacher.

-It was around the second week you were there that you learnt one of your fellow students was the younger brother of the scary teacher. From the first day forward whenever you had math class you kept your head down and very quiet to avoid him singling you out but today was study day before a big test so everyone was partnered up. "Kanao get with Inosuke! Kamado's with the blonde kid!  New girl go get with my brother! All of you take turns asking questions with these flashcards! All of this will be on the test tomorrow so PAY THE HELL ATTENTION AND STUDY!"

-Your pupils shrank in fear and a rock fell in your stomach. Brother? Mr. Sanemi had a BROTHER?! As soon as Genya sat down in front of you holding the flashcards for your shared study session, you knew without a doubt they were related. Their faces were similar shaped especially their eyes, and like a brother he also had scars on his body although a lot less than Sanemi did. As soon as Genya saw your big doe eyes all shiny and pretty looking up at him, the baby boy was smitten.

-He's had crushes before. He's had fleeting crushes on both his friends Aoi and Kanao before they gotten into relationships with his other guy friends and when he was younger he always thought Ms. Kanao was the prettiest girl ever, but after seeing you he gained the biggest crush in his life that it felt like Cupid smashed his head with a mallet of love.

-It then started a cycle between you two. He started to try and approach you. "Hey! New girl!" You freaked out by the sudden repeating appearance from him. It was bad enough the teacher seemed to be annoyed with you but did his brother have to harass you too?! You kept running away from him or had your friends block his way to you until he left or you escaped. He was hurt you seemed to be so scared of him and for the longest time didn't have the foggiest idea why. He tried getting Tanjiro's help in convincing you to hang out with him in a group setting to see if maybe he could ease your worries by having other people around but you always asked if Genya would be there and Tanjiro...Well he's an awful liar so even if he said no you knew otherwise and declined. 

-Then one day while reading it hits him. Your very first day the week prior to meeting Genya. Sanemi returned your purse and you seemed terrified of him. I'm turn it must've made you genuinely afraid of him as well. That day when Genya gets home he literally kicks down the doorway startling his mother, Sanemi, and their younger siblings with his anger. "SANEMI WHAT THE FUCK?!"

[mothdruid]

Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.

My Fandom Experience.

The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.

Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.

After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).

The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.

Fandom Etiquette.

If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.

Don't send hate anons to people

Block/unfollow people you don't like

If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it

Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided

Use AO3 filters

Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like

Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"

There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street

Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that

If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it

YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)

The Doxing Situation.

For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.

I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.

Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.

The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.

My Thoughts.

Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).

I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.

This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.

If you've read all of this, thank you.

[kitten4sannie]

ᴘᴜɴɪꜱʜᴍᴇɴᴛ

Boyfriend! Hongjoong x Fem! Reader 

Genre: smut, some tooth-rotting fluff at the end, idol! au

Summary: What happens when you distract Hongjoong from his work? He loses his temper, obviously. Good thing that’s exactly what you were hoping for 🖤

W.C: 3.9k 

Warnings: established relationship, dom! Hongjoong, sub! reader, Hongjoong is ruthless, filthy dialogue (when i say filthy i mean FILTHY), frequent use of the word “Daddy”, it’s givinggg ddlg, brat taming, name calling, degradation, hair pulling, slapping, spit play, pussy slapping, sex toy usage, orgasm denial, squirting, fingering, spanking, sorta passionate sorta rough (unprotected) sex, very brief cockwarming 

Author's Note: This is a very self-indulgent one, but so are the other ones that I've written ajskdhkds. I hope you enjoy 🖤

Song Recs: Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood (this song is perfection point blank period), The Beach also by The Neighbourhood 

➽───────────────❥

You sat beside your boyfriend in his recording studio, chewing on your lip and aimlessly looking around to quell your boredom. Hongjoong had been working on a demo for the last thirty minutes, completely engulfed in his own world. 

He had promised to spend some time with you earlier that week. Instead, here you were all dolled up for him and he hadn’t even spared you a single glance. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t upset, so you figured you might as well make an attempt to steal back his attention.

This, however, was a pretty risky move. You already knew that Hongjoong hated being interrupted when his creative juices were flowing; in fact, the last time you had done that, your ass was so bruised, that you couldn’t sit down for a week without wanting to cry.

 You usually preferred when Hongjoong was his normal, exceptionally sweet self, but the masochist inside you had an affinity for the cruel version of himself that he sometimes revealed to you. Perhaps it was time for him to pay you a visit. 

“Daddyyyy….” you whined into his pierced ear, grabbing onto the sleeve of his hoodie and tugging at it. “I’m literally going to die if you don’t give me attention right now…”

Hongjoong stopped moving his computer mouse around, giving you a side eye. You knew better than to start acting like this while he was working, so that alone already began to piss him off. 

“Sweetie,” he started, his voice devoid of any warmth. “I told you that I would need an hour to get this done. It’s very important. I know we were supposed to do something together tonight, so I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

You pouted, crossing your arms across your chest and leaning back into the computer chair you were sitting in. “Whatever,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. 

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched in response to your bratty behavior, eyes scanning you for a minute to see if you were going to pull another stunt. When he saw that you were just sitting there quietly, his attention turned back onto the track he was working on. 

Only a few minutes had passed, before you were ready for phase two of Operation: Mean Hongjoong. It was a very simple plan, but it was fool-proof. You could feel more and more butterflies accumulating in your stomach the longer you waited to act on your carnal desires. 

Taking in a deep breath, you stood up suddenly and swung one of your legs over Hongjoong’s lower half, before sitting down on his lap. Without another word, you grabbed the computer mouse from his hand and tossed it across the desk where he couldn’t reach it. 

“I can’t wait, Daddy. I want your attention now!” you whined, grabbing his shoulders tightly and shaking him a bit.

The almost glazed-over look in Hongjoong’s eyes would’ve scared you if it hadn’t turned you on first. Every time he got like this, it was like you were dealing with an entirely different person. Your precious Joongie was nowhere to be found; in this state, he might as well have been a demon disguised as a human. And this version of himself wanted nothing more than to see you crying and begging for his mercy. 

“Daddy, did you hear me? I said I w-” 

Your words were quickly cut short when he abruptly grabbed a fistful of your hair, his fingers keeping a tight grip near the base of your scalp. It burned and you loved it. You really were nothing but a slut for the pain he occasionally provided you, but who could blame you? It’s not your fault you had daddy issues.

 The rough, yet very precise slap that Hongjoong brought to your cheek pulled you out of your current headspace.

 “Ow!” you reacted, looking at him with wide eyes and a pout, feigning innocence.“What was that for, Daddy? You’re so mean…” you murmured, rubbing your cheek, as a way to ease the pain. 

Without hesitation, Hongjoong gave you another smack, this time on your other cheek, leaving both sides of your face warm and stinging. 

“Don’t play games, brat. You know the rules. It’s time for your punishment.” 

You could feel arousal begin to pool inside your core, causing your panties to feel wet and sticky, without any stimulation. You gazed up at him with lust-filled eyes, biting into the skin of your bottom lip. 

You were going to enjoy every single second of this.

“Open your mouth,” Hongjoong commanded, as his fierce brown eyes bored into yours, his eyebrows knitting together.

You could almost feel the rage emanating from his body. 

Your lips parted obediently, your eyes studying Hongjoong’s beautiful, yet in this moment, harsh features. He was mad, mad. You almost felt guilty for pissing him off so much, but being the brat that you were, you had no regrets whatsoever. 

A wad of spit suddenly came flying out of Hongjoong’s mouth and onto your sore cheek, slowly dripping down it. You shuddered, trying to keep yourself from moaning.

“Oops, missed,” he observed dryly, still maintaining an iron grip on your hair. “Stick your tongue out, slut.” 

You did so without question, the tip of your tongue resting against the area just below your bottom lip. 

“Aaah…” 

More spit came shooting out of his mouth, this time landing directly into your own, some hitting the back of your throat. 

“Good girl. Now swallow.” 

You did, feeling the aching between your legs increase tenfold. Reaching down to ease some of the discomfort, Hongjoong noticed almost immediately and slapped your hand away from yourself. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolded, holding out a finger to shake it disapprovingly. “You lost that privilege when you decided to be a distracting little whore who couldn’t wait for an hour for my cock.”

You whimpered at his words, loving the way he talked to you. You wanted more. You needed more. Luckily for you, Hongjoong was just getting started.

 He suddenly let go of your hair and picked you up, setting you down on the desk, somewhat forcefully. Hongjoong lifted up your skirt and admired the obvious wet patch that was present on your panties, before giving your pussy a quick, hard slap. 

“A-ah!” you gasped, gripping the edge of the desk, feeling the knots in your stomach tighten significantly. 

“Be a good girl and sit still while Daddy looks for something.”

 He walked over to some bins that were sitting in the corner of the room and started rummaging through one of them. 

You sat still just as he asked of you, hands resting obediently in your lap, your pussy throbbing in anticipation of his punishment. 

“Here we go. I found just the thing to keep you busy while Daddy finishes his demo.”

Your eyes widened at the toy he held in his hand. It might’ve not looked like much, but you knew better; you were very familiar with this one. It was a simple vibrating bullet, nothing too intimidating about that, but here’s the thing: it had ten different settings of varying vibration power and could be controlled with an app, giving Hongjoong the ability to do whatever he liked. You almost felt dizzy just thinking about how long you were going to have to use it on yourself. 

“You remember this one, Y/N? Oh wait, probably not. The only thing occupying that empty head of yours is Daddy’s cock. Am I correct?”

 Hongjoong stalked towards you, like a predator would with its prey. His dominating presence, combined with his dark lust-filled eyes never failed to send shivers up your spine. 

You nodded your head in agreement, his degrading words hitting in the best way possible. Mean Hongjoong was your absolute favorite, you couldn’t lie. Even Wooyoung was into it, so how could you not be? 

Hongjoong pulled out his phone and opened the app, before looking at you with a disconcerting neutral expression. “You’re going to hold this against your clit until it dies or until I'm done, whichever happens sooner. Got it? And you better not cum until I say so, or else.” 

“Y-yes, Daddy,” you answered, swallowing nervously. 

There was no going back now; you had to take his punishment. 

*** 

“F-ffffuck…! Daddy, please, no more! It’s too much!” you cried out, legs starting to feel like jelly, hot tears already staining your cheeks. 

You were sitting on the side of Hongjoong’s desk next to his computer, where there was just enough room for you to have your legs spread open for him. You had no idea how much time had passed, but you had routinely gotten close to orgasming at least five times already, so it had to have been a while. Every time you got close, Hongjoong would suddenly order you to stop. It was killing you, but at the end of the day, you were the one that asked for this to happen. 

“I think you’re exaggerating, baby,” Hongjoong mumbled nonchalantly, his eyes focused on the screen in front of him. His finger was hovering over his phone, as he wondered if he should put the toy on the highest setting or not. 

“P-please, stop! Please!” you begged, starting to pull your hand away from in between your legs.

When Hongjoong noticed, he immediately reached over and gave your clothed pussy two rough slaps in a row, causing you to let out a choked gasp. 

“What did I say, whore? You pull your hand away again and I’m going to leave that leaking pussy of yours all red and swollen.” Hongjoong casually looked back at his computer screen, clicking away at the mouse, as if he didn’t just say something incredibly filthy.

“I-i‘ll be good, Daddy…I’m sorry.” You obeyed his command, pressing the bullet back against your throbbing clit. Just as you did, Hongjoong’s finger tapped the screen of his phone. 

“Fuck!” you yelled out in response, your hips bucking involuntarily. You were so incredibly sensitive after being tortured for so long, that you were already about to reach your orgasm again. 

“Daddyyy…!” you moaned in a whiny tone, looking in his direction, desperate for him to pay attention to you. His eyes flickered over to yours, appearing indifferent. For some reason, his uninterested expression sent you over the edge. You let out a series of constricted moans, as you squirted directly into your panties, soaking them completely.

“Mm, couldn’t help yourself, could you, brat? Looks like I’ll have to punish you more. I wonder how long it’ll take for you to learn not to disobey me,” Hongjoong commented, closing the app on his phone and standing up from his computer chair.

“I-i’m sorry, Daddy…It just felt so good..” you pouted, not getting an answer from him. 

 Hongjoong placed himself in front of you, pulling your drenched panties to the side and using two fingers to move up and down your pulsing hole, admiring the wet sounds it made. 

“I think you need to be spanked. At least ten times. What do you think, Y/N? Is that a fair punishment?” 

You nodded your head quickly, gasping when the pads of his fingers rubbed circles around your swollen clit. He used two fingers from his other hand to slip inside your eager hole, silently fingering you for a couple minutes. 

“D-Daddy…that feels…good…” you exhaled shakily, just as you felt his fingers curl inside you, hitting your g-spot. “F-fuck…!”

Hongjoong casually pulled away from you when he felt your pussy clenching around his digits, popping them into his mouth to clean them. He walked over to the couch that was behind him, sitting down with his legs spread open slightly.

 “I want you laying across my lap with your ass up in the next two seconds. Skirt and panties off. Leave the knee-socks,” he smirked, patting one of his thick thighs with his veiny hand. 

You scrambled off of the desk, quickly sliding out of your skirt and panties. You then ran over to Hongjoong and positioned yourself across his lap, equally scared and eager for what was about to come. 

“I want you to count every time I spank you. Are you ready, brat?” he asked in a low voice, his dark eyes surveying your exposed lower half. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you replied, nodding your head confidently. 

You were extremely ready for what he was about to do, but your heart still pounded away inside your chest. You knew he was going to be ruthless; you could feel it in your bones. 

Hongjoong took a deep inhale, opening and closing his dominant hand a few times as a way to prepare himself for the pain he was about to bestow upon you. 

“Three…two…one…” 

When his hand suddenly came down onto your bare ass, you couldn’t help but let out a moan. When he didn’t hear the number one coming out of your mouth, he swiftly smacked your ass again, harder this time. 

“I thought I told you to count, whore.” 

“T-Two! It’s two!” you whimpered, your lips forming a pout. 

Hongjoong let out an ‘ahhh’ sound, pretending to sound impressed. “So you are capable of counting. And here I thought you were just a brain dead little fuckdoll that’s only good for getting your cunt stuffed full of my cock and cum.” 

You felt your pussy clench around nothing but his venom-filled words, wishing for him to continue degrading you. It felt so unbelievably good to hear him say nasty things like that; you swore you could cum from his words alone, if you really wanted to. 

Hongjoong brought his hand down again, before his fingers gently brushed over your already-burning skin, as an attempt to ease the pain you felt. 

“Three…” you exhaled, closing your eyes, taking in a sharp inhale, as a desperate attempt to prepare yourself for the next round. 

Pulling his hand back farther than before, Hongjoong mercilessly sent another wave of pain into your backside, sighing to himself when he heard the long, drawn out whine that escaped your mouth. 

“F-four..!” You gripped the side of the couch so tightly, your knuckles began to turn white. 

Hongjoong gave you a single second to recover, just before the palm of his hand expertly cracked down on a large section of your ass cheek, his dark eyes focusing on the way it bounced back. 

“F-fuck! Five!” you cried out, wondering how you were going to handle the rest, if the fifth one already had you on the brink of insanity. 

*** 

By the time you counted to eight, you were seeing stars. Your ass was sporting a deep shade of red, with bruises already starting to form underneath your skin. There was a constant stream of drool dripping down your chin, but you could care less. You were in heaven. 

“Ready for the last two, brat? Hm?” Hongjoong used his hand to massage your swollen ass cheeks, knowing you were in rough shape. He almost felt bad, but then he remembered that you loved every second of it. What a good little painslut you were for him. He would definitely have to reward you for your efforts. 

“Yes, Daddy…” you mumbled, only able to focus on the constant stinging sensation you felt radiating from your battered ass. 

You only knew he had spanked you again because you heard the slapping sound interrupt the silence in the room. You were simply too far gone to concentrate anymore, but you desperately wanted to please Hongjoong. 

“N-nine…” 

Hongjoong reeled his hand far back, watching as you took a deep inhale. “Last one, baby. You can do it.” 

“Give it to me, Daddy,” you encouraged, gripping the side of his thigh tightly with your sweaty hands. 

Hongjoong’s palm slammed viciously down onto your bruised ass for the last time, the extreme pain sending you into a state of pure euphoria. 

“Ten…” you exhaled with an airy voice, your body slowly relaxing against his. You closed your eyes for a minute in order to ground yourself, due to feeling like you were floating. 

Hongjoong lifted you up and into his lap, gently rubbing your ass with both hands, as an attempt to soothe the lingering pain.

 “You did so well for me, baby. So, so well.” 

You hummed at his praise, wrapping your arms around Hongjoong. “Yay…” you sighed breathlessly, resting your head in the crook of his neck and clinging to him. You stayed in that position for a while, until you finally noticed that Hongjoong’s aching cock was poking against your bare pussy through his sweatpants. 

“Daddy?” 

“Yes, angel?” he inquired, rubbing slow circles on your lower back. 

“Can you please fuck me now?” 

Hongjoong let out a low groan, his dick twitching against you. Sure, you had to go through your punishment, but in a way, Hongjoong had been punished as well. He had sat there the entire time with a raging hard-on and didn’t even touch himself once. But now, it was finally time for him to relieve the built-up tension. 

“Of course I can, baby,” he cooed, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing your jaw affectionately. He then lowered his sweatpants, allowing his stiff cock to spring out against his lower abdomen. “Are you ready for Daddy’s cock, babygirl? Hm? Are you ready for me to fill your pretty little cunt up completely?” 

“Yes, please…!” you exclaimed, pressing yourself onto him, your bodies flush against one another. 

Hongjoong lifted your hips up and guided the head of his cock to your slit, slowly slipping it inside your slick opening, causing you to moan in response.

“Fffuck, baby…I fuck you almost every day and yet you’re still so fucking tight…” he exhaled, finally bottoming out inside of you. “Mm, my cock still fits so perfectly inside you, though. Your Daddy’s little personal cocksleeve, aren’t you?” 

Your pussy started to pulse around his length, clearly showing him how much his filthy words affected you.

 “Of course I am, Daddy. I just want to get used by you day after day after day…until the very end.” 

Hongjoong responded to your words by finding a good pace to thrust into you at, the springs in the couch creaking along to his movements. He slid both of his hands underneath your top, grabbing your braless breasts with his soft hands. His fingers tweaked your nipples, flicking them one by one for a bit, before pulling them. 

“D-Daddy…!” you gasped, back arching in response to the endless pleasure he provided you. 

After Hongjoong was done playing with your breasts, he wrapped both hands securely around your waist, before snapping his hips up into yours at a brutal new pace. “Oh, yeahhh…that’s it…” Hongjoong kept his eyes on yours, wanting to maintain eye contact with you. You gazed back at him, your own eyes filled with pure unadulterated love and lust.

 He smiled at you with his teeth, his tongue poking out in a playful way. “I fucking love the way you look at me, baby…You always act like this is the first time I’m fucking you…” 

You had your arms wrapped securely around Hongjoong’s neck, pressing your forehead against his, feeling his soft breath hit your chin. “That’s because it always feels like the first time, Daddy…” 

You both continued to look into each other’s half-lidded eyes, Hongjoong’s thrusts never slowing down or faltering in the slightest.

 “My pretty baby…so beautiful…” he praised, already starting to feel like he was about to cum. He couldn’t help it; you were just so good for him. His perfect match. “B-baby, I’m gonna cum, but…aaah…I need you to cum with me.” 

You nodded, pulling your face away from your boyfriend’s, when you felt your own high start to creep up on you, wanting to get a better look at him when he eventually reached his climax. 

“M-me too, Daddy…I want to…cum…with you too…” you replied, in between moans, feeling his thrusts becoming less coordinated and more sloppy.

He gripped your waist tightly, sliding down against the couch a bit, so that he could start pounding into you at a better angle. You let out a strangled scream, your fingers slipping into his damp hair, gripping it desperately. 

“Daddy…! I-i’m gonna…! Fuck!”

Hongjoong nodded his head, watching you with a fervent gaze, replying, “I know, angel. I know. Just let go and cum for Daddy.”  

He shoved his cock into you one last time and that’s all it took for you to unravel, your vision fading quickly and everything around you disappearing while you came. 

Hongjoong brought you back to reality by cupping his hands on either side of your cheeks, pressing his forehead against yours once again. He let out a long groan, his cum spilling out deep inside you, filling you up with his love.

 “You feel that, baby? You feel Daddy’s cum inside your pretty little pussy?” 

“Y-yessss…” you breathed out, completely and utterly fucked-out. A small amount of drool dripped down the side of your lip, prompting Hongjoong to wipe it away with his thumb. 

“You’re so pretty, baby…All fucked-out for me.”

“Only for you…Daddy,” you added, your lips curling into a warm smile. 

“Only for me,” he echoed, giving you a gentle kiss. 

He held you in his arms for a while, his cock still sitting inside you. You always loved when he did this; it made you feel so warm and full inside. You sighed softly, enjoying the sensation as much as you could, before it would inevitably go away. 

 Once Hongjoong had his fill of cockwarming, he pulled out, watching as his cum slowly dripped out of your hole. He hummed to himself, never getting tired of seeing his seed spill out of you. He then looked up to focus on your flushed face, giving you a heartfelt smile. You felt your heart skip a beat, as you smiled back at him just as lovingly. 

“You know I didn't want to punish you, right? You were being a huge brat, so I had no choice." Hongjoong tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning your face. "You do know that, right, angel?” he asked softly, running his fingers through your damp, messy hair. 

“Yeah, I know, Joongie,” you replied, giving him a sheepish smile. “I’ll try not to be a brat again. I want to be your good girl.” 

“You’ll always be my good girl, Y/N. Always.” Hongjoong looked at you with love in his eyes, filling your heart up with a warm, fuzzy feeling.  

“I love you…” you gushed, placing a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat steadily against it. He immediately slipped his own hand over yours, squeezing it softly. 

“Love you more, baby.” Hongjoong kissed the top of your forehead, before pulling you against his chest, in order to give you a long, much-needed hug.

➽───────────────❥

Tags: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cloudysannie @aryraaaa @za-con @cosmiczen @choerryge @aikyubi @arusio @gueritaybonita @iheartkila123 @i-l0v3hands @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @jexidamulti @mingisgf @as-she-pleases s @just-a-simp @vlrity @purplechannie @lilactiny @eclecticranchzonkcookie @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @Icyhyunie @cherryxsang @namsloverr @chanst1ddies @woo-stars @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @ilovehyunjinsm @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @fairyoftaehyun @singularity777 @bls-luv-me @lavanyasingh04 @igotlockedout

(I apologize if I wasn't able to tag some of you! I don't know how to fix them ;;)

Apply for the taglists here ⇢ ♡

© toxicccred, 2022.

[kindlingkeen]

do you have any good fic recs? i've just finished reading all of your fics (AMAZING btw i LOVE competent jason and you write him sooo well) and obviously you have good taste so i thought i might as well ask (i will say that i don't really do ship fics tho)

thank you! looking forward to what you have in store for jason and the batfam next!

First, thank you for the ask! And I’m so glad you’ve been enjoying my fics!! 😊 I’m on vacation this week and finally writing again (had a bit of a rough writer’s block patch). So hopefully I’ll be posting more content in the next couple of weeks.

Fic recs - boy do I ever. I will say, I have super varied tastes in fics, I’ll read just about anything Gen that’s Jason-centric, plus a few Jason ships (although I’m pretty picky about what actually makes it into my bookmarks). All of the fics I’m rec’ing below are Gen, although some might have flavors of a relationship (likely JayRoy since that’s my preferred pairing). I tried to pick a selection of different styles and tropes, so hopefully you find something you like. Almost all these authors have multiple fics I’ve loved, so look at their other works on ao3 for more great reading (you may need to be logged into ao3 to see some of them). Enjoy!

Fic recs

Glow in the Dark Stars by essspressso (stylesmakethefight) 

This is a time travel fic that made me bawl ugly tears, like seriously bawl. Read if in need of a good cry.

The Cold Like Coming Home by cabezas_de_vaca 

An interesting one-shot of Jason and Bruce finding their way back to each other.

More Chances Than Deserved 'Verse by Skalidra  @skalidra

A series that starts out post batarang, Jason does not rejoin the family.

Gotham CPS by ebjameston 

Not sure how to even describe this one, it’s pure hilarity told by an outsider POV.

Nests and Cages by LanternWisp, Lysical @lanternwisp

A series detailing Jason’s journey back to the family. The last installment of the series has probably the best reconciliation discussion between Jason and Bruce re: Bruce taking on another Robin that I’ve ever read.

Buy One Get One Free by Here_we_go

A series that starts with catatonic Jason. I love how Jason is written in this one so so much (especially the main first part), and there’s a short segment later in the series with Talia that’s lovely.

fever by r_astra  @heyy-its-skip

One-shot. Quality batdad in the context of a sick fic

nightmares and daydreams by r_astra @heyy-its-skip

One-shot. Beware, there’s some heavy duty torture in this one. Jason & Tim isn’t usually my thing, but I really like their brief interaction in this one.

all the small weights by sparkycap

One-shot. More quality batdad, this time in the context of fear toxin

a (cat)astrophe in the making by mikkal

Part of a loosely connected series, if I’m remembering correctly. I’m a firm believer that Jason Todd needs a cat.

Red Hood by envysparkler @envysparkler

An amazing Jason rejoins the family, classic fix it, set early in Lost Days continuity. Envysparkler’s works are pretty much solely responsible for getting me into the Batfam. This fic in particular motivated me to start writing TPWC.

Overcoming Our Antecedents by Batbirdies @batbirdies

De-aging fic, this isn’t my favorite trope, but of what’s out there, I like the dynamics in this one.

Things We Only Talk About After Dark by BabblingBookends

One-shot. More good batdad, but not fluffy like the other two above. I really like how Bruce is written in this one, how he struggles with the unknown.

Kidnapped! by Cerusee @cerusee

One-shot set in Jason’s Robin days. One of my favorites for father and son feels.

A MOMENT THAT'S HELD IN YOUR ARMS. by orpheusaki

More baby Robin Jay and good dad Bruce.

White Lighters / Afterglow by lurkinglurkerwholurks @lurkinglurkerwholurks

One-shot. Another one that legitimately made me cry.

Druthers by d_aia @e-alexandrescu

A really creative, not-your-typical-take on Jason rejoining the family. Sniper Jason is so frelling cool.

I linked the tumblr’s for the authors I know of. If you have any to add, leave them in the comments and I’ll update!

[sansaorgana]

It's not caused by any recent situation, I've been thinking about it for a long time now but I have some things to say about fic writing.

Being a fic writer in a fandom might be the most ungrateful "job" in the community. I have lots of gif maker friends and I make mediocre gifs myself so I will compare these two a lot but I want to make it clear I don't want to say fic writers are more important or suffer more or anything like that because I value gif makers more than you can imagine.

– First of all, the whole cringe status around fic writing – especially x reader fanfics – is awful. I often see posts that whine about the fact that these fics even exist. People don't think twice, they just hit "post" and in result they are shaming other people for having innocent and creative hobbies. We spend real time of our real lives writing fics we love for ourselves but also for other people's enjoyment. For free. I really don't want to see posts about how cringe and silly fic writers are just because someone thinks they're superior in a fandom. It's a fucking Tumblr. Also, would you say the same about a person drawing fan art? I don't think so.

– I know there are some gifsets that take literally weeks to make but in most cases fic writing takes more time to create and at the same time it takes more time to consume. It's easy to hit a like or a reblog button under a gifset that you consumed in under a minute just like it's easy to ignore a fanfic because consuming it would take you more time. It's understandable but at the same time, if you read fanfics, reblog them at least. Leave some sort of feedback. Even one word or a reaction image. It really means a lot... And, once again, the lack of reblogs bothers gif makers as well, but I think in the case of fic writing it's mostly caused because y'all ashamed of admitting that you read these fics. Like who the fuck cares? It's not Facebook, no one here knows who you really are, who the fuck cares?

– Speaking of reactions under fics. Being like "Part Two" is considered to be extremely rude. We are not AI bots and we certainly won't force ourselves to write a second part because you demanded it without even commenting on the work itself or hitting a reblog button. If "Part Two" is all you have to say, then it's better to stay quiet.

– Also, readers who comment rudely under fics written for free like ??? So what he's out of character? So what he's a sad little meow meow in the movie but a ray of sunshine in this fic? You are not being forced to read it and there's a whole community of people preferring fluff to angst. If some fic is not your type, just ignore it. I guarantee you, there are other fics that are your type and if there are not, you're welcome to start writing yourself. I've also seen people starting dramas about some details in the smut fics. Like Jesus fucking Christ... Go touch some grass.

– What hurts the most is the prejudice from other content makers. I've seen some posts hating on/mocking fic writers that are coming from gif makers themselves. We're all on the same boat, we create fan art for the media we love. Why do we have to bring each other down? I am aware of the problem of gif stealing in the fic writing community but it mostly is caused by the fact these people don't know how to properly credit gifs with the gif tool. Believe me, most of the fic writers have a huge respect for the gif makers and I wish it went the other way around as well, even if you don't read fanfics, you don't have to be rude about people who do.

– Fan fiction writers are not desperate ugly teenagers locked in their parents' basement. Some of them are mothers, some of them have PhDs, some of them are doctors, some of them are just simple people who want to relax after a stressful day. The same things y'all be thinking of fic writers can be said about any content maker on this site because they also spend hours in front of a computer making fan arts or gifs of their favorite characters.

[heywriters]

What're some things you wish you knew before getting into serious writing (i.e. things before writing a novel, editing large projects, etc.)?

This is an excellent question! I've come to terms with some things, but overall I've had a great time learning. Here are a few things that it would have really helped me to know early on.

Most writing advice doesn't need to be taken THAT seriously. While my writing has improved from listening to and applying writing advice, there was a period of time where I felt anxious over how many things I was doing "Wrong." I overcame this by realizing that not all advice was for me, but for some other writer out there. Also, the act of writing improved my writing more than reading about how to improve my writing ever could.

You're never going to be old enough to write with experience! Tongue-in-cheek, but when I learned that most of my favorite works were written by authors past their 40s, 50s, etc. I realized everything I write now will reflect my current age and inexperience. I accepted that and kept writing anyway. Can't write a masterpiece without writing a few flawed stories first!

Most people who love your story will not understand it like you do. Everyone sees something slightly different, or focuses on stuff you really don't care about. On the other hand, there will be a handful of readers who tell you what your story is actually about and those readers are so much smarter than you and they're the best people ever because they make you feel like an accidental genius.

Publishing is a crazy, competitive, hard work atmosphere. Like most creative endeavors, unfortunately, writing rarely pays the bills. It definitely hasn't paid mine. Do it at your own pace, whether that's being published, self-pub, or just writing at home for your own sanity. It's all good.

Inspiration does just go away. You plan a novel, you love the characters, you think this is going to be The One. And then next week you're over it. You still keep it, but you look back at all those plans and feel a little bad that it didn't get an ending...Actually, I'm glad I didn't know this one. I would have avoided so many projects that taught me useful things.

---

+ If you enjoy my blog and appreciate my advice, please visit my Ko-fi 🤗

[roomwithanopenfire]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tags @monbons and @rimeswithpurple!

I've been having the best week creatively so far and I'm going to have Friday off. Which means I've the time free needed to both to write fanfiction and read the last chapters of @monbons's fic right when they drop. (Which if you haven't started reading yet, you really really should!!) Anyways, I figured I'd keep these good vibes going and share something I've written this week.

I'm starting on the fifth chapter of my COBB and I'm feeling pretty good about it. I've written every scene for this fic like two times—like I've written whole chapters and then just completely rewritten the entire thing. Which is Insane Behavior but the second versions have been so much better. But this fifth chapter is actually getting a decent start! I don't think I'll have to completely rewrite it. (Then again I've only written one scene of it so far, so there's still room for failure.)

Enjoy this little snip from the aforementioned Chapter 5. This was written on my first try! (and is probably more than I should share but like 🤷‍♀️)

“Simon!” Penelope shouts. “Open this door before I magic it open.” “Nghhh,” I groan. She can magickally open it if she wants to.  This blanket cocoon keeps me safe. Outside of it are the consequences of my own actions.  “Simon,” Penny continues. “You’ve been in there for four days! I’m coming in.” I hear a muttered Open sesame, and the creak of an open door. Footsteps sound across the floor and the blanket is ripped away from my head, exposing me to both cool air and consequences. “Hey!” I cry, reaching for the blanket. I must look a wreck because Penny’s face instantly softens. She releases her hold and lets me hide away again.  “Budge up.” She pokes my side until I make room for her on the bed. I don’t say anything as Penny’s face appears under the blanket with me. I don’t even look over at her. A ball of guilt pokes me in the chest. Penelope has let consequences into the blanket.

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