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averytiredfanfictionwriter · 3 years

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Clan (Technoblade x demon!reader, Philza x demon!reader)

Word count- 2,210 Content Warnings- none that I can think of Ao3 link- right here.

My first post back in a while. I’m sorry about the absence to whoever might care- a lot of things popped up in my personal life that stressed me out, on top of my graduation fast approaching. But I’m back now, and this might not be the Karl or Ranboo fic that was promised, it is at least something. Those will both be coming within a week or two, I just need to finish up some stuff and then edit them. So follow if you want to see when I post those, or just reply on this post saying that you want to be tagged when I do post them. Enjoy! Reblogs are appreciated, as well as likes. So if you could just do both, that would mean the world to me!

Techno’s used to being alone. He lived the first hundred years of his life that way- until he met Phil. And then Phil left. And he was alone again.

But when he met Y/n, that all changed. He never had to worry about being alone again. Immortals are rare, and meeting another one is even rarer, but the two were inseparable. She never disclosed where she was from, or what the tattoos of strange runes on her body meant, and Techno knew better than to pry into matters that didn’t concern him, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about as she stared out the window with her eyes clouded over and memories of a past time playing in her mind.

When Phil came back, it was easy for the pair to fit him back into their lives. Even though Y/n had never met him before it was as if they’d known each other for centuries before then. The three easily settled into a calm daily routine and when they returned to their own houses in the little community they’d created for just them at night, they fell asleep having forgotten what life was like before they’d met.

The three gods never worried about what would happen when they were found. After all, they’re immortal. They’ve lived to see the rise and fall of countries, rulers, and everything else. Them of all people know that nothing is permanent. But none ever stopped to consider that what they had wasn’t permanent.

It started when Techno woke up in the morning. The arctic always lent itself to freezing mornings but this one felt colder than the others. It could be because he had expected to wake up with Y/n and Phil next to him on the couch, and was surprised that they would go back to their own houses. But it was much more than that- even if Techno couldn’t have known.

Phil and Techno looked in silence for any trace of Y/n around their community when the sun hit the middle of the sky and she still hadn’t shown her face. Any places she might have gone off to in search of quiet or a place to nap. But that didn’t appear to be the case and their search turned up empty and in vain.

Techno retreated into himself. He found the note she’d left when he and Phil returned from their search and he didn’t say anything, instead heading down to the basement in his small house and shutting himself in to work on ‘very important stuff’ as he told Phil. Phil didn’t believe him- Techno wasn’t exactly quiet in expressing the emotions he felt about Y/n leaving.

Phil wasn’t quite as emotional as Techno. He was more than two hundred years older than the pink-haired man. He was used to the constant ebbing and flowing of life, of the appearance and then disappearance of people. That’s not to say it didn’t hurt, but he knew that it’s the way of life. People come, and then they go. To stop it would be to disregard the nature of humans as a whole.

He was a little surprised when Techno came back up at the end of the night and, while silent, had refused to acknowledge that she’d even existed there in the first place. He ignored the building next to his where she’d slept and kept her belongings. Whenever Phil tried to bring her up, Techno would shut out the conversation and pretend he hadn’t heard him. It wasn’t healthy, and Phil couldn’t blame him because he was still young but he just wished he wouldn’t be so heartbroken to the point of refusing to acknowledge that she ever existed in the first place.

This went on for months. Almost a whole year had passed and the building that contained Y/n’s belongings went untouched. All the delicate keepsakes from past adventures, photos of strangers that neither of the men dared ask about, and the bookshelves lining almost every wall and so full of books from all over the world- it all gathered dust. Until finally she came back.

Phil almost didn’t recognize her at first. The tired weariness evident in the dark circles under her eyes and the dragging of her footsteps, but everything else was the same. The dark hair on her head now long enough to braid- much to his excitement- and the multitudes of runes covering her body, with the additions of quite a few now. One of the newest things though is the several piercings and jewelry that she’s wearing. The most prominent of which is the chain hanging around her neck, a medium-sized precious stone of unknown origin hanging off of it.

“Y/n…” Phil said, dropping the wood he held in her arms in favor of running over and embracing her.

She hugs him back, the feeling almost foreign to her now. But now that she’s back, she doesn’t intend on forgetting it again.

“Where’s Techno? I need to talk to you both.” Y/n mumbles into Phils' shoulder, and for a minute he feels the cold flush of fear at the thought of her leaving again.

“He’s inside his house. Here, I’ll take you there.” Phil can’t help but feel like he’s showing around a visitor. The community has changed quite a bit since she’d last been there but the dread-filled feeling that he gets at the thought of her leaving again, coming back to say that she’s leaving and never returning, is more than he could take.

“Techno. Where are you?” Phil calls out as he enters the house and the chill of the room makes him shiver.

“Downstairs.” A gruff voice calls back, followed by a grunt of frustration.

“Well, can you come upstairs real quick? We have a visitor.” The word is bitter on his tongue and the look that flashes quickly across Y/n’s face makes him wish he’d chosen a better wording.

“Fine.” The ladder creaks and then Techno is peeking his head through the hole that leads down the basement.

“Y/n. What are you doing here?” It’s not entirely a question, and Y/n winces at Techno’s harsh tone. “Why are you back now? What, was living out there not as good as you thought it was? Well, you can leave. We don’t want you back here. We’re doing just fine on our own.”

Y/n feels destroyed. She didn’t expect Techno to react positively to her return, but she didn’t expect this.

“Can I just tell you why I left?” She asks, and Techno snorts.

“Sure. Go ahead. Lay on us this wonderful reason.” Techno’s voice drips with sarcasm.

“There were some people I needed to find- had to find.” She says and Techno laughs.

“Really. That’s your reason. You had to go find some people so you left for ten months. You didn’t even think to tell us in person, instead, you just left a note. Hell, you could have taken us with you. We would have happily gone with you. I would have happily gone with you. I’d have done anything for you. But it appears that the feeling wasn’t mutual, since you barely bothered to leave a half-assed note telling us.” Techno shouts, having climbed fully into the room and stood towering over the girl.

“You don’t understand. This was not a trip you could have made. Neither of you would have been able to!” Y/n shouts back.

Phil backs away, settling into the couch on the other side of the room.

“What do you mean, I don’t understand. I understand perfectly. You abandoned us. You abandoned me. Well, you know what, I don’t want you back here. You need to leave. Get your things and leave. Right now.” Techno says and it feels like Y/n was just punched in the gut.

“What? Techno you’re not serious?” Phil’s astonished. Of everything he thought Techno would say to Y/n, this wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah, I am. Now get out.” Philza protests and Techno starts yelling at him as he tries to shove her out of the house.

“My clan was killed! I had to find their bodies!” She shouts out over the two men and Techno stops pushing her.

“Clan?” He asks and Phil stares at her blankly.

“You’re a demon?” He asks and Techno looks back and forth between the two.

“Part demon, yes. My clan was killed and I had to find them. I needed to know who was left. And… I’m now the leader of a clan that doesn’t exist anymore. They were all dead.” Her voice breaks at the end of her sentence, and the sorrow overwhelms her. She’d done a good job on the trip there and back of not crying, of ignoring what happened. But saying it out loud makes it real, and something inside her snaps with those words.

Suddenly the runes tattooed on her and the amount of gold jewelry she’s wearing makes sense to Phil.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Techno pulls her into his arms protectively.

Phil stands from the couch and joins them. The combined warmth of the other two hybrids is almost too much to bear, but Philza hugs them anyways. Y/n’s sobbing continues for a little longer, but soon it turns into muffled sniffles and the shaking of her body calms a little bit.

“It’s up to me now to find a new clan. Custom is that I have to either join one or find others to form one with. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay here. Most of them require you to live with the group.” Y/n whispers as she pulls away from the hug.

“No. I won’t let you leave. Not for a second time.” Techno says stubbornly, and Y/n shakes her head.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do. We’ll be your new clan. Even if you can’t give us the jewelry of your brothers and sisters like tradition dictates, we can still be your clan. Technically your clan doesn’t have to be other demons.” Phil smiles at her. Techno doesn’t know why Phil would know that, but he doesn’t question his knowledge either way. Phil’s lived a long life before he and Y/n came into the picture.

“You guys would do that?” She asks and he nods his head eagerly.

“Of course. We were already really close before- nothing’s going to be changing.”

“Yeah. What do we have to do to join your clan?” Techno asks.

“Well, we basically have to get married to each other. It’s really just an unbreakable promise to stay with each other and protect each other until we die. Soooo… forever. Are you guys sure this is what you want? Because once we do this we can’t go back.” Y/n looks at them in worry.

“Yes. We both want this. You belong here with us. Life was horrible without you here. I had to deal with Phil all alone. The full force of his attention was on me. It was a never-ending nightmare.” Technos voice is dry as he delivers the joke and Y/n laughs as Phil protests.

“Hey. You forget that I was equally as stuck with you. It’s not easy when you live with a piglin who never gets cold and forgets that not everyone is as lucky as him.” Phil says and Techno mimics his words.

“Whatever you say, old man. But Y/n, I’m a hundred percent serious about joining your clan. I never want to let you go again.” Techno says into Y/n’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it was so quiet without you here mate. And cold. So, so cold.” Phil wraps his wings around the two human furnaces and holds them close.

Even though he’s more than two hundred years older than the pair and knows the reality of life- that eventually they’ll get bored of each other or tired and leave- he finds himself wanting to never let go.

“Here, hold out your hands,” Y/n tells them as she pulls out of the hug.

The two men do so without hesitation, and Y/n places a ring in each of their hands. They’re heavy, made of an unknown metal to most who walk the earth and they’re burning hot to the touch as if they were just forged and taken out of the fire.

“But… you’re not supposed to?” Phil says and the woman shakes her head.

“It doesn’t matter if my clan is made of demons or not. I’m still going to give you guys the rings signifying our bonds.” She says and Phil nods.

“Now… who wants to go and slaughter some orphans?” Techno asks, clapping his hands together.

Y/n shouts yes and drops her bag on the ground, running out the door. Techno hangs back a moment, pausing only to look at his reflection in the mirror- at the heavy ring on his tusk. It’s stopped burning and has turned into a comfortable warmth.

“Hey, you good mate?” Phil asks and Techno smiles.

“Never better.” He eyes the half-demon waiting outside in the snow, her tail swishing on the ground behind her.

“Good. Because now there’s no getting rid of her.” Phil smiles and they join the girl waiting outside, ready for whatever adventures lie ahead.

#dsmp x reader #dsmp techno #technoblade x reader #technoblade x platonic!reader #philza x reader #philza x platonic!reader #hybrid reader #technoblade x hybrid!reader #philza x hybrid!reader #technoblade x y/n #philza x y/n #lizzy writes

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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

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SYCS - 1 Year Anniversary

Chapter title: Set In Stone

Word count: about 4000 words

Author’s Note: On July 26, 2020, I posted the first chapter of Scars You Can’t See. One year later, I’ve written five stories of varying lengths and am currently working on a sixth (wow)! My writing’s come a long way since then, and a lot of my improvement is thanks to everyone who encourages me to continue said writing, whether it’s through likes, reblogs, or comments. Thank you all so much for your support so far! :)

This is a rewrite of the very first chapter of SYCS, since the original could use a little fixing. Some important notes: I’ve edited a few parts of the story to be more in character, Chapter 2 starts in a different place after this updated version, and I’ve also fixed up chapter 13 because apparently I forgot to finish the motif I started?? Somehow??? At least I remembered eventually...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the (revised) story!

Before, Shadow had always been able to just ignore what it meant to work for G.U.N.

He’d managed somehow to convince himself to brush aside the fact that the soldiers he worked with (had been coerced into working with) wore the same uniforms as those who killed Maria, his dear sister and first friend. To push away any idea that he couldn’t deal with serving the same organization that had once wanted him dead. (It was the only way to stay with his friends, of course he could deal.)

The same thing went for using guns during the Black Arms invasion- even though he’d had amnesia, he remembered enough that he’d needed to rely on adrenaline near constantly just to make it through those times. Despite this, he had still taken the better part of a month to recover afterwards.

His memories of that day were particularly fresh for a while.

Once the invasion had been successfully repelled, G.U.N. had hired him to work for them very rapidly, as a matter of fact. During the process, some of the people along the way strongly suggested that if the organization wasn’t able to keep an eye on him, then…well, then they’d be very displeased.

Shadow knew all too well that you did not want G.U.N. displeased with you.

The hybrid felt nothing but exhausted as these thoughts whirled through his head for the hundredth time. They’d only become a major problem recently, ever since the military organization had begun to require him to resume using guns on his missions. Every single time he touched one, the cold steel left his palms slick inside his gloves and made his head swim with flashes of memories too often repressed. Still, he had to use them- he’d be taken off missions entirely if he refused, and Shadow would never leave Rouge and Omega in the lurch like that.

However, his mental health had been growing ever worse these past few weeks as a result. He thought (hoped) he’d done a good job of hiding it from Rouge and Omega, but Shadow had been sparring with Sonic noticeably less. The hybrid had struggled with the idea of inflicting more violence on others in his spare time, and the hero had asked him about it several times, trying to figure out the reason for his sudden change in behavior.

Shadow shook his head, pushing his doubts and worries away just as he always had before. He couldn’t allow himself to become distracted by his thoughts- they might spill over into missions if he wasn’t careful. Forcing himself to focus on his schedule for the day and nothing else, he walked out of his room to take on whatever might come his way.

…

He was skating through the halls of an old, decrepit building (currently being used as a hideout by Eggman) on a mission. A robot stepped into his path.

Shadow hadn’t used his weapon yet on this assignment. He remembered the thinly veiled threat after his first refusal- we may have to remove you from missions if you cannot handle this responsibility- and felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck.

He shut his eyes, whipped out the firearm, and pulled the trigger. Flinching at the sound out of instinct, he refused to open his eyes until the gun was away, when he didn’t have to see it anymore. The robot lay on the ground, a smoking hole in its center. He tried to ignore the lingering sensation of the G.U.N. logo embossed on the handgrip in his palm.

Shadow felt the floor tilt for a moment under him before he regained his bearings.

He refused to look at the machine as he rushed by.

…

The exhausted hedgehog curled up in bed at night, unable to keep himself from hearing gunshots over and over and over. He fought against the memories of that day, refused to let them spill over into his thoughts.

Yet despite his best efforts, he knew he’d dream of it again tonight. He knew that he’d wake up screaming with her name in his mouth and the sight of blood still burned into his eyes. It had happened every night since he’d received the weapon.

Shadow swallowed down his fearful apprehension over what would come next. He forced himself to breathe deeply, to close his eyes, even though he wished to do the exact opposite. Dreams were not real. He could not let them hold power over him.

But still, he shivered as he tried to fall asleep.

…

He and Omega were standing in the center of a courtyard, broken badnik scrap lying all around them. This mission was supposed to be easy, just a simple in-and-out. Take out the bots, grab the intel, and go.

Rouge had asked them to cover for her as she searched for information in the abandoned computers alone. Shadow hadn’t liked the idea of leaving her alone but agreed grudgingly anyway.

He looked down at the firearm he held in his hands and tried his hardest not to cringe.

Flashes of memories threatened to surface again, of escape pods and gunshots and too much blood-

“Shadow.”

He jumped, not expecting Omega’s loud voice so suddenly.

“Yes, what is it?”

“You have been distracted for nearly ten minutes. Are you unwell?”

Shadow sighed, projecting a relaxed attitude. “Everything is fine. I was simply thinking.”

“About what?” Omega asked curiously.

“Nothing much.”

Silence descended upon the two again for a minute.

“Shadow.” the E-series robot repeated.

“What.” he snapped, sounding more irritated than he’d intended.

“Tell me what you were thinking about. You looked distressed.”

“I’m fine, alright?�� Shadow insisted. “Just- forget it, Omega.”

Omega stepped closer. “Past experience has informed me that you tend to hide important thoughts from others. Therefore, I will assume that this is essential knowledge until proven otherwise.”

“It’s not important.”

The robot placed his hand on Shadow’s shoulder. The latter wouldn’t admit it, but the weight was comforting, in a way.

“This is not adequate proof. Do you not trust me, Shadow?”

He sighed. “I do trust you, Omega. You know that.”

“Then talk.” Omega’s processors whirred for a moment, before adding, “Please.”

The hybrid’s shoulders slumped- he knew his friend wouldn’t stop until he told the truth. “I was thinking, how weird is it, that I work for the same organization that ki-...caused my sister’s-” He paused on the word, fighting not to trip over his sentences. “-death and...attempted to cause mine. Among other things. And how now...I must use weapons like the ones that took her from me...to harm others.” He sighed, nearly worn out just from the effort of discussing that event’s existence.

Omega jerked away from him, startling Shadow. “G.U.N. is the organization that killed your sister?” he asked, sounding- if it were possible- shocked.

“And the one that locked me away in cryostasis for 50 years, yes.” Shadow said, feigning calm.

Omega made a staticky noise that sounded like a sharp exhale. “Shadow. Why did nobody tell me this before? And why in the name of Chaos do you still work here?”

Shadow looked away, hiding the bitterness in his expression. “Multiple reasons. One, the organization has somewhat cleaned up its act, as far as I can tell. Two, it wants to keep me under surveillance, since I am still ‘potentially dangerous’ to them...and consequences would be severe if I did not obey.”

He tapped his heel on the ground. “Also, it was one of the main avenues for us to become heroes. Unlike Sonic and his friends, we don’t have the luxury of fighting someone who wants us to know where they are. And you know we didn’t exactly have the best record with law enforcement beforehand.”

“Still.” Omega replied. “I am highly opposed to the concept of fighting in the name of such an organization. Have they at least apologized to you? Or admitted their wrongdoing?”

Shadow frowned, thinking. “No, actually, they never did.”

Why did he have to bring this up? There’s no point in talking about what’s past. Let’s just get over it and move on.

Omega looked down, his eyes dimming slightly. “Processing.”

He was still processing by the time Rouge arrived, and remained mostly silent for their exit, post-mission briefing and the entire ride home.

Once the three had gotten inside, Rouge faced the E-series robot. “Alright, what’s up with you? You’re never quiet, but you’ve barely said a word since I got back.”

“I am considering an important decision.” Omega said.

“Oh? And what might that be?” she asked, folding her arms.

“My potential resignation from the government organization known as G.U.N..”

“Wait, what?” Rouge gasped.

Shadow shouted out from the other room simultaneously. “Omega, what are you thinking?!”

“Current logic process is as follows: G.U.N. hurt one of the few decent people on this planet and my friend fifty years ago by murdering Maria Robotnik and many others aboard the ARK, as well as imprisoning him for said fifty years against his will. It has not apologized or shown remorse for those actions. Therefore, this organization clearly has no respect for Shadow, and therefore I refuse to aid them one moment longer.”

Shadow appeared at the robot’s side, placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Omega, but you don’t need to do that for me. I’m alright with this.”

(He was lying, of course.)

“Hold on a minute here, Omega’s got a point.” Rouge said pensively. “I started working here so I wouldn’t go to jail for stealing, but I’ve served my ‘sentence’ ages ago. Honestly, I kind of hate it there anyway? Like, nobody even respects us and it’s got way too much bureaucracy and too many outdated ideas. It’d be much better if it was just the three of us doing our own thing away from them, wouldn’t it?”

“Besides, hon, you’ve got to start standing up against those guys. I know you were going through a major existential crisis a while back when this all started, and that was the main thing you had to deal with. But now that you’ve started to figure everything out, it’s time to stop letting people treat you this way! We don’t have to give G.U.N. anything. They never helped you at all.”

“Agreed.” Omega said. “This organization does not deserve you- or any of us. They have wronged you, and though forgiveness is supposedly a ‘virtue’, it is likely so only when it is deserved.”

Shadow stared at the two of them. “That was...actually kind of philosophical for a minute. And convincing.” He huffed, frustrated, his hands curling into fists. “I just…how would I even go about dealing with my grievances with an entire military organization? I would need proof...and I don’t want to damage my standing with the government. G.U.N. can easily claim that I have gone rogue.”

He swallowed, trying to ignore the various insecurities at the corners of his mind. “I’m just...should I really be digging all of this up again? I’ve finally started to get over it…”

“Okay, so first of all, hon, you’d better not let G.U.N. walk all over you just because they can make up fake blackmail.” the bat insisted. “And second, you’re clearly not over it. Shadow...I can hear you when you wake up from your nightmares, you know. You deserve some kind of closure to help you, and if G.U.N. won’t give it to you, then you have to take it.

“Also, here’s another thing- how much worse would you feel if G.U.N. hurt someone else, and we had never said anything to warn anyone?”

Shadow stiffened, feeling ill again. The very idea was abhorrent. That another person’s Maria could be lost due to his silence...“That...that would be unimaginable….” he breathed.

“Exactly.” Rouge replied. “So, consider it.”

Shadow frowned. “I...I’ll keep it in mind. But we should at least see if they’ll do something first before we try to attack them. We might be able to convince them to make amends, after all. I mean, if we fight, we’ll be completely out of a job, and I don’t know if the funds from Club Rouge will be enough to keep us afloat- if we succeed. It’s too risky, at least for now.”

“If that’s what you want to do, then we can definitely stick with that to start.” the bat said. “I don’t know if I could’ve taken any of their apologies if it were me, but it’s not my life, it’s yours. So I’ll be right with you no matter what you decide to do, okay?”

“As will I.” Omega added, placing a hand on Shadow’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Rouge. Thanks, Omega.” the hybrid said, finally allowing relief to show on his face as he looked at his friends.

He couldn’t help but feel that with them by his side, everything would be alright.

…

They talked through most of the night about how to bring it up, what they would say, and even where they would sit to keep Shadow feeling as safe as he could. The hybrid had final veto power over anything the other two suggested, and he tried to keep the wording of the speech he’d give as controlled and polite as possible.

However, he tried not to bring up the “maybe G.U.N. still thinks I’m a weapon to be stored and used, not a person” topic during his proposal. Those insecurities could wait for another day.

They fell asleep late at night, all three in the same room- Shadow made a blanket nest on the floor, Omega plugged himself into the wall, and Rouge was on her bed.

Pleasantly enough, Shadow didn’t have any nightmares that night.

…

“You want us to do what?”

The head of the public relations department stood behind his desk, cutting a slightly dominating figure in front of the team in his room. Omega could easily detect an increased heart rate in Shadow. He was not betraying any nervousness externally, however, and the robot was impressed by his friend’s willpower.

The PR head sat down, and he gestured for Team Dark to do the same. However, since there were only two chairs in the room (as they had known), Omega remained standing. Among other things, it would allow him to more easily defend his friends should the talk go awry.

“I’m afraid we just can’t do that kind of thing...Shadow.” He said the last word like it was distasteful, like it didn’t belong in his mouth. (Or, perhaps, like he wanted to add a “Project” or “Experiment” to the front of it, but didn’t for fear of a missile to the face delivered by Omega.)

“Why not?” The hybrid asked. “Sir,” he forced himself to add politely. “Don’t you agree that it was wrong? That G.U.N.’s soldiers shouldn’t have done...what they did?”

“I am incredibly saddened that Miss Robotnik’s death occurred in the search for you, and that the head of G.U.N. at the time considered you unworthy of any basic living rights.” the PR leader said, sounding more than anything like he was reading a script off a teleprompter. “However, I am not going to make a public statement digging up something that happened fifty years ago.”

Rouge leaned forward in her chair furiously. “So you’re just going to pretend it never happened? What about the trauma Shadow experienced? What about the fact that this kind of thing could happen again?”

The leader looked at her coldly. “I can assure you that this is an isolated incident, and that such an occurrence has not happened before or since.”

“But you can't just-! Can’t we speak with the commander?” Rouge gasped, outraged.

“I can, and I will. And you know very well that the commander is taking a well-deserved vacation, and we are not to disturb him for any reason except an emergency. Now then. Did you have anything else you needed?” he said smugly.

Omega was so, so close to just arming the missile launcher anyway.

Shadow looked up at him carefully, clearly going over the words in his head. “Sir. May I respectfully ask why G.U.N. considered it necessary to arm me? I can apply lethal force if necessary in other manners.”

The PR head frowned. “Close quarters are not necessarily a safe space for you, Shadow. We need you alive, and if that means you’re farther back, then so be it.”

“But- me? Destroying with impunity? In such a cold, distant manner? That’s not what G.U.N. wants to see from me, I thought. And with my experiences, I really don’t think-”

The human folded his arms. “Don’t worry about thinking, just worry about completing your missions on time. And what’s past is past, right? Now then, I expect no more complaints from you three. This meeting is concluded.”

Shadow stood up stiffly. “Yes, sir.”

Rouge froze. “Wait, Shadow, you’re not just going to-”

“We’re leaving, Rouge. Now.” Shadow said firmly, but the two other members of Team Dark could hear the unsteadiness in his voice. Omega remained silent, but internally was playing a very nice simulation in which he repeatedly punched the head of the PR department.

Once they had exited the office and walked through the facility for a while, Shadow leaned heavily against a wall. “He’s not sorry at all.” he muttered. The robot didn’t need his sensors to tell that he was experiencing far too many negative feelings at once. It wasn’t healthy for organics to deal with all that all the time…

“Agreed.” Omega said. “I would not be surprised in the least if he was lying throughout all of it.”

Rouge sighed, before pulling an unresisting Shadow into a hug. “Honey, I’m...” She paused for a second. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. You shouldn’t have to cope with people like that, ever.”

Shadow closed his eyes quietly and stood like that for a long time. Eventually, though, he spoke up. “.....I know what we have to do. I...I know we need to fight, like you said last night. I don’t feel ready, but just…it has to happen.”

Omega looked down at them both. “You two go out to the car. I will go and get your sister’s files myself while you take a few minutes, Shadow. I am bulletproof and the most likely to make it out unscathed, and if I need help I can call.”

Rouge rolled her shoulders briefly, her wings flexing. “Alright. I’ll be ready to get out of here the second you get in. Sound good?”

“Alright.” Omega agreed. “Let’s go.”

The robot marched down the halls, on a mission. He stopped first to gather everything from their office- or at least all of their personal items. They might need them later, after all. He placed them into his empty chest compartment (he hadn’t refilled on weaponry in a while) and moved on.

The lower levels of the G.U.N. facility were darker and less well-maintained. This was most likely on purpose, to keep people from wanting to go down there. Omega, however, did not fear the dark. He had a flashlight, and a hulking five-foot robot was usually enough to scare most creatures.

Thankfully, the guards stationed throughout these levels knew him, and simply stepped aside to let Omega pass. Quite a few of them were honestly nervous down there themselves, and barely even noticed him.

He noticed a small door marked ‘Records Room- Classified’ and knew he was in the right place. The door did not give him access, but that was alright. Rouge had hacked the system a while back and given herself the highest clearance possible...and now Omega had her spare card.

Once he was inside, he scanned the cabinets methodically until he found the file marked ‘Maria Robotnik’. Inside were papers detailing her death and her life. Everything one could have wanted to know about her was inside.

The red stamp on the front reading ‘Terminated’ was pretty ominous, and Omega briefly wondered if he would be able to remove it. He considered the possibility that Shadow would not be quite so pained upon seeing it if the stamp were gone.

It was unlikely, and so he moved on.

Omega exited the room, hoping that the guards in the security monitor room were slacking off. They often were, so he calculated at least a 70% chance of exiting the facility without incident. He placed the file inside his compartment and continued on.

Being a robot meant that he could not act nervous. Therefore, nobody questioned him as he walked through the halls and outside, where he saw Rouge talking to Shadow inside their black-and-red car.

The hybrid appeared to be rather panicked about the whole plan, so as Omega slid into the backseat, he placed his hand on his friend’s head for a brief moment. “Everything is going to be alright, Shadow. I promise you that.”

Shadow sighed and slumped back against the seat. “Let’s get out of here before someone notices what we did.”

Rouge pulled out of the parking lot with a screech of the tires and didn’t let the speedometer dip below fifty until they got home.

“Right.” she said, once they were all inside. “We’ll probably have G.U.N. beating down our door by tomorrow morning, so let’s make sure they don’t catch us still here by then. Omega, refill your weapons and pack us some clothes and stuff. Shadow, you just try and chill. I’m going to look over this file.”

As Rouge flipped through the pages, Shadow decided that he needed to see these for himself and walked over to stand behind her. Before long, though, he recoiled in shock upon seeing that when G.U.N. discussed Maria’s death, they justified it. Made it seem like Shadow was the villain. A monster. A weapon.

“Shadow?” the bat asked.

“...yes?”

“You know we can’t use this by itself, right? We need more proof. Like, video proof.” she said, sounding resigned.

“I know.” he said quietly, disappointed that so little had changed despite the fact that half a century and some new management had taken place.

Omega cursed out G.U.N. from the other room in response and came over to them, his eyes in their ‘angry’ shape. “We need to stop them now. This revolting organization does not deserve to spend another minute active anywhere on the planet.”

“Let’s get them, then.” Rouge hissed, clearly furious as well.

Shadow felt terribly apprehensive, but despite that, he agreed as well. “Then they won’t be able to hurt anyone else in the future.” he said, sounding more determined than he had in a while.

“You ready, guys?” the bat asked, holding out her hand in the midst of their little group.

Omega allowed his giant metal hand to hover over hers. “Always.”

Rouge looked at the hybrid. “You sure you’re up for this, hon?”

“Not entirely…” Shadow admitted, but took a deep breath and held out his hand too, allowing Rouge to guide his hand to Omega’s, just like she had so long ago. “...but I need to do it, and so I will.”

“Then we’ll expose them, Shadow.” she said confidently. “And we’ve totally got this, because we’re doing it together.”

And as they all clasped hands for a moment, before breaking off to head to the garage, Shadow felt like they really had a chance to succeed.

#scars you can't see #sol's fanfiction #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #i've actually had this saved for a while! i thought the anniversary would be a good time to post it :)#i went back and reread chapter 1 and was like '.......i could write this so much better now'#so here we are!#i especially didn't like how omega forced shadow's hand- i much prefer this one where it's a team agreement #shadow's still a little hesitant because of how it turned out the last time he went up against g.u.n.#but he knows he needs to do this for himself (and for others too)#i did still try and keep the general plot structure the same though- just improved it (hopefully)#either way i'm looking forward to another year of writing! it's been really cool so far :D #thanks as always for reading

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bettsfic · 3 years

Text

march pinned: ending the sex project

in the march edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and upcoming consultation availability, i have personal essay recommendations and a segment on the definition of a project!

for more information on my creative coaching services, check out my carrd.

if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.

full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.

fuck february, amiright?

i thought january was bad. but february. february was the stuff of nightmares. my cousin passed away from covid (you can read about her here; she was really an amazing person and i feel so lucky to have known her). i was finally formally diagnosed with PCOS (bittersweet, i guess). my car broke down. i took two (2) days off and it took me two and a half weeks to get caught up again. i can only hope march treats us all a little more gently.

the good news is, i finished revisions on my short story collection to send to my agent, finished workshop submissions for the semester, and now i can return to my first love, fanfiction. that i am constantly working through original fiction to return to fanfiction has been making me think a lot about the nature of a creative, capital-p Project. so, this month’s BTALA (been thinkin a lot about) is going to inspect the concept of a “project.”

new resource

last month i unveiled a folder of my favorite short stories which i’m pleased to hear several of you have perused and gotten some inspiration from. this month i’ve compiled my favorite personal essays. there are fewer essays than there are short stories because i’ve broken them into two groups: personal and craft. next month i hope to have the craft essays compiled.

i’m always looking for more things to love, so if you have recommendations for your favorite short stories and essays, i’d be happy to hear them!

writing-related posts

how to physically maneuver the revision process

the difference between M and E ratings of fic

resources for worldbuilding (check out the reblogs for more!)

a couple syntax/prose book recs

how to break a long work into chapters

march availability

unfortunately i have to cut my coaching hours down a bit, so i don’t have any openings left in march, but i have some availability in april. if you’re interested in a writing consultation, please fill out this google form!

you can learn more about my services on my carrd.

what i’m into rn

for the past year, i’ve basically been trapped in a 10x10 room, and my health is definitely reflecting that, both mentally (does anyone else feel like they’re living in groundhog day? just, every day being exactly the same except fractionally worse than the day before??) and physically (i reorganized the kitchen and could barely move for two days).

reader, i have discovered something called “walking,” in which i put on real human shoes and go outside. it feels strange, bestial. neighbors wave hello to me. a harrowing experience.

while doing this, this walking, i’ve been listening to the lolita podcast which a friend recommended to me, a ten-episode series that dives into everything lolita: the novel itself, its context, adaptations, greater cultural responses, and — as a sticker on my laptop says — vladimir “russian dreamboat” nabokov. as far as i can tell it seems well-researched and presents the many perspectives of lolita in a fair way. i’m only a few eps in, but i’m entranced so far. highly recommended if you, like me, have a complicated relationship with lolita.

i’ve also found myself mildly addicted to a mobile otome game called obey me, which. look i know it’s like the definition of cringe but it’s also mind-numbingly fun and if i want to spend my minimal free time pretending 7 demon brothers are all vying for my affection then that’s between me and god. it’s a lot of what i loved about WoW: frequent events, bright colors, a daily to do list of simple but satisfying tasks, many many rewards, and it doesn’t take itself very seriously. and if i have 4k fic written of mammon/reader that’s nobody’s business but mine and my longsuffering ao3 subscribers.

i’m telling you this because i don’t know anyone else who plays it and am desperate to trade headcanons. so if you play, or start playing, hit me up!! i will give u mad tips and daily AP.

been thinkin a lot about

the project. the project. even the word “project.” PROject (noun). proJECT (verb). what is the project? “project” comes from the latin pro and jacare which means “to throw forward,” or projectum which means “something prominent.” a projector throws forward an image. to project onto something means to throw your perspective onto something else. to embark on a project is to make something prominent in your life. the concept of “the projects” comes from public housing projects, the government throwing forward affordable housing.

what is the project? in joseph harris’ essay “coming to terms” he says that “to define the project of a writer is…to push beyond his text, to hazard a view about not only what someone has said but also what he was trying to accomplish by saying it.” harris’ perspective is that of an english teacher encouraging his students to read critically, not just to summarize a text but to find its project, its greater purpose. and while i first read this essay in a seminar on composition pedagogy, it stuck with me as a writer. it made me reconsider the greater nature of the creative project.

how many of us, if asked to describe our writing project, would begin with a plot or character premise, the nuts and bolts of a specific story? maybe even the working title? but i wonder, is breaking out the plot really the project? is the discipline of sitting down and typing really the project? and when the story is finished, is the project over? what is the project?

in 2019, i wrote 86k words of a novel. i began revising that novel last fall, and i’m finding that i’ll probably keep maybe less than 10k of that initial draft. i’m not bothered by that. the novel i wrote before that started at 125k, then i rewrote the entire thing to 200k, then i whittled it back down to 160k, and next i’ll be tasked with paring it back down to 80k. i’m not bothered by that either. in the past five years or so i’ve written about 2 million words, and i’ve only published 20k of them. only 1% of what i’ve written, i’ve published. in the words of lauren cooper (catherine tate), i’m not bothered.

i used to see publication as the birth of the project, and writing it akin to a long gestation period. then i saw publication as the death of the project, and its life was lived in its drafting. now, publication seems irrelevant to the project. the confines of a story and its many revisions are also irrelevant to the project. the beginning of a story is not the start of the project and the end of the story is not the end of the project. the project is larger than the story, its revisions, its publication, and its eventual readership.

i think it took me so long to see this because for so many years i was still in my first project, the sex project, an exploration of trauma and sexual identity, which began in 2014 with destiel fanfiction, endured through many fandom shifts, my MFA, years adrift as an adjunct, all the way through 2020 with the completion of my short story collection. i used to wonder how anyone could write about anything other than sex. to me it was the only topic worth my attention. i was certain that i would spend my entire life being a sex writer and i’d never find fulfillment writing a young adult sci fi adventure or a highly literary novel about complicated family dynamics. i was baffled by people who were interested in other things, who could write entire novels without using the word “cock” even once.

then my sex project ended. i don’t know when exactly it happened or why, but suddenly i realized i never wanted to write another artful description of an orgasm or find a tactful euphemism for a vagina ever again (personally i prefer “wet cunt” because not only is it blunt, i find it phonetically pleasing). obviously i’m still writing explicit fanfic but it doesn’t feel the same as it used to. sex feels more sidelined to me, even if it’s still the center and drive of a fic. i no longer get any personal satisfaction from writing it, although i do get satisfaction in sharing the work for readers to enjoy.

it’s like i’ve somehow solved the biggest puzzle of my life. or i guess made peace with my meanest monster, that extremely complicated double-mind of desire that some non-sex-repulsed asexuals feel: you want to feel desire you can’t actually feel so you write it into fiction, to try to understand this thing you can’t have and which society tells you you’re missing, and you don’t even know if you don’t have it, because you still feel desire for affection and intimacy, and maybe even a desire to be desired. and for those of us who are asexual and have c-ptsd, sex you don’t actually want (but don’t know you don’t want, because maybe you’re ambivalent and mildly curious and touch-starved) and an unrelenting drive toward people-pleasing can be a dangerous combination. how can you ever know what consent is if you always put other people’s desires above your own?

maybe i’m alone in this. maybe i’m not. maybe for most people, wanting sex is a light switch: yes i want it, or no i don’t. but for me, i had to write a whole lot of words to figure out things like desire, consent, intimacy, forgiveness, the shape that good love takes. the lengthy theoretical flowchart of “i might be interested in having sex if this and this and this and this and this happens in this exact order and under these exact circumstances.”

it was hard to write something into reality that i have never seen except in pieces, in subtext i clung to with no lexicon to give it shape and meaning. te lawrence in lawrence of arabia. some of tarantino’s early work. the film benny and joon. and weirdly, the star wars prequels (that one’s hard to explain; i’ll spare you). i don’t think the sex project was about coming to terms with my asexuality as much as it was trying to organize my thoughts and feelings by continuously rendering my own experiences within a greater, shinier ideal — like how you sometimes have to unravel the entire skein of yarn to find the loose end, and only then can you get started.

i guess i’m in the infancy of the power project now. i’m moving toward themes of control, infamy, greatness. the exact circumstances in which atrocity occurs. how people rise into leadership and fall from grace. the consequences of success. i don’t know why this project has come to me, or what, if anything, it has to do with me. i’m not famous and have no intention of becoming famous; i don’t have social power or influence, at least not beyond my little corner of fandom, and i’m not interested in having it. and yet, here we are, already hundreds of thousands of words in.

my fics digging for orchids (tgcf) and a standing engagement (the hunger games) deal with the detriments of fame. and even float (breaking bad) to a degree is about the aftermath of being so close to power. my novel cherry pop, loosely based on macbeth, is about an ongoing power exchange between two teenage girls. my other novel, vandal, is about a girl who believes she has magic powers and casts a spell on her neighbor to fall in love with her. and i’m in the very early stages of a novel called groundswell, a cult story i’ve been wanting to write for years. i had no idea why i couldn’t write it until i realized it wasn’t yet my project. i’m not even to the stage of developing characters, let alone a premise or plot. i’m still just building my aesthetic pile (i discuss the aesthetic pile here, as well as vandal in more detail), watching documentaries on cults, reading books, finding inspiration, marking down ideas as they come. it may be years before i’m ready to sit down and write it.

now that i know what the project is, i have more patience with myself. it doesn’t bother me to rewrite a novel from the beginning, or to scrap novels altogether, because the story isn’t the project. the project cannot be diminished by cutting words, sentences, paragraphs, entire chapters. the project does not have a product. the project cannot be published. the project is in the practice, in dragging the impossibly large into clear, acute existence, so you can see it. so you can see the very center of what you thought was an unknowable thing.

#pinned #lkwrnl

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

Love and War

Kinktober Day One ~ kink: hate/bitter sex

pairing: villain dom!midoriya izuku x hero fem!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, angst

word count: 6,788

a/n: so... lets get this started, never have I ever thought I would actually take part in this event... I like this piece a lot :D I hope you guys enjoy it as well :D ENJOY LIKE REBLOG COMMENT IM SO EXCITED AHHHHHH edit: showing what it is now that its been up for awhile

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Your eyes locked on green eyes from across the room. The drink in your hand seemed to slip from your fingers as he turned towards you.

He was handsome. Curly green hair, freckles scattering on his cheekbones, large eyes that drew you in. He was taller than you, broad shoulders, strong and lean. He was walking towards you, and you placed your drink on the table. The chatters of your friends falling deaf on your ears as he approached you.

Black slacks sat tight on his waist, your lip in your mouth as your eyes trailed up. He also wore a tight white t-shirt. He was gratifying…

Your hands moved to run through your hair as he smiled at you, his hand extended to you, and you smiled. His hand was large, tanned, calloused, yet scarred. You didn’t mind, your eyes trailing back up to his face, and you smile, taking his hand.

“I’m Midoriya.” He tells you and charming smile on his face. His voice is low, and it’s smooth. You pout your lips, leaning in close as you take in his warm hand. “Midoriya Izuku.”

“Pretty name for a handsome man.” You flirt as you take your hand back from him, you glance at him from under your eyelashes.

He chuckles, and the sound alone almost sets you off. He runs a hand through his hair, flexing for you. You have to keep yourself from drooling as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “Do I get your name?” He asks you, his eyes twinkling as he comes to stand even closer to you.

You click your tongue, looking apologetic as you shake your head. “Sorry, I don’t give my name to strangers…” You admit, a smirk on your face as you take your drink back into your hand. Your back now turned to him.

Your smirk only grows as his chest is sinfully pressed to your back. You can feel the outline of his muscles rubbing against you as his warm breath hit your neck. Taking the straw of your drink to your lips, you giggle as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, do I need to buy you a drink, love?” He asks, his lips ghosting over the exposed skin on your neck. “I did already introduce myself after all.”

You shift to look at him, your face teasingly close to his. “Oh sweetie, if you don’t know what I mean by that, I don’t think we’re meant to be.” You whisper, your lips brushing against his.

His green eyes seemed to turn black as his lips were suddenly on yours. The hollering of your friends reminding you where you were, but you didn’t care. His lips are intoxicating, and everything seems to fall into place as his hands grip your waist. He’s trying to dominate you, you can tell that through his forceful kiss, and you’re ready to give him a run for his money.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You wake up with a groan in his bed, the bright lights of the morning sun beating down on your face. You push off the bed, your arms wobbling, and you moan in pain. Your hands running down your throbbing neck. You could feel the hickies that had formed from the night before.

“Good morning, beautiful.” A husky voice interrupts your search for bruises as you lock eyes with the handsome man.

“Mm, I told you my name, please use it…” You groan as he walks over, a cup of tea in his hands.

“I thought a girl like you would appreciate getting called beautiful.” Midoriya laughs as he sinks into the mattress next to you. The sheets fall exposing your bruised breasts. “Nah, you’re definitely the kind that enjoys getting called a hoe in the morning.”

Your eyes widen, and you smack his arm as he laughs. Your cheeks burn as you cover your face, “You’re annoying, but I have to go! Duty calls!”

You chug the quite warm liquid and hand the empty cup to Midoriya. You slip off the bed and walk towards your pile of clothes. You, unashamed, pull them all as you show off your naked body. You weren’t that drunk last night, and so you could care less that his eyes are very glued to your naked form. “Thank you for showing me a great night…” You admit as he follows you out of his front door. Your eyes linger down his abs and you suck in air as you brush your messy hair out of your face.

“I know one night stands are a thing people take seriously and all... but if you’d want to…” He looks away, his cheeks blushing, and a smile fills your face. “Could I take you out on a date?”

You stand on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss onto his lips, “If you find where I put my number, then yes.” You whisper against his mouth as he chuckles.

“How can I trust you?” He asks keeping you close.

“You’ll have to,” You say stroking his cheek with your thumb as you press a kiss to his neck and walk away. A giggle on your tongue as you disappear.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

One Year Later

You giggled as Izuku held you over his shoulder. Your legs kicking as he threw you onto the mattress. His grinning face blowing raspberries into your exposed stomach. You howl in laughter trying to get him to stop. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” You shriek as you try to detach his lips from your belly. You’re laughing so hard that it begins to hurt you to laugh. “I'm--‘ZUKU--GOING TO PEE!”

Izuku pulls away, peppering kisses up your chest until he’s kissing you over and over on your mouth. You’re grinning too wide for his lips to even touch yours. His kisses pressing much more over your teeth as you’re gasping for breath. “I do not clean up your piss, sweetheart.” Izuku laughs as you tilt your head up towards his. “Your laugh is so ugly!”

“Your face is ugly, ohhhhh!!!” You shout back as Izuku nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.

“You’re a child, you know that?” Izuku grins against your skin, and your fingers tug at his curls pulling his face back up to yours.

“Mm, so you’re into children? I may have to call Zeal on you!!!!” You tease, your face dropping to seriousness as you stare into his emerald green eyes.

“I could take her on any day for you.” Izuku brushes your hair out of your eyes, and your eyes flutter. God, there was so much you would do for this man. You loved him so much it hurt you.

“Even Sunday nights when you have an early Monday morning meeting?” You ask almost breathless. He leans back, his hands moving down your torso, and stopping below your ass. His fingers pressing into your skin gently.

It takes everything within you not to flinch as he presses into a bruise. A well-hidden bruise that he was not meant to see. “I would do it three minutes before the meeting... “ He presses a gentle kiss to your fingers, and you sit up. “I love you so much, y/n. I do.”

“Tell me again how fucking hot I was that first night,” You say shifting closer to Izuku’s warm body. Your breasts pressing against his chest. Despite being months of being together, you grin at the blush that overwhelms his face. He was such a fucking boobs man.

“You were the easiest one at the bar, I had to go after you. No one was going to sleep with me except for you!”

“SHUT UP!” You shriek as Izuku’s laughter fills the room as he grabs your waist, and he tumbles onto the bed. You giggle as you land on top of his strong chest, and you grin as you press a kiss against his freckled jaw. You shift in his arms and get your lips to press to his gently, softly, longingly.

“Alright, baby, I have to go! It’s ladies' night!” You sigh into his mouth, his hands keeping you close to him as his tongue slips into your mouth. You moan languidly at the feeling of his tongue dancing with yours. You slowly shift your hips up against his own.

“You can tell Ashido-san she can rip you out of my fucking hands,” Izuku growls as he sucks softly against your neck. You arch into him as you shake your head.

“Stupid, she could totally beat your ass, and you have that--fuck, you have that meeting of yoURS!” Your breath hitches as his fingers slip into the waistband of your sweats. “Midoriya Izuku!”

“Fine, fine, fine!” Izuku chuckles pulling away, love lacing his eyes. “I love you, stay safe tonight? You girls can’t handle your liquor.”

You roll your eyes as you peck a last kiss to his lips. “Only because we’re half your size!!!”

Izuku walks you out of his house, and into your car. His face sticking through the window for some last kisses. You give him as many as you can until you have no more time to waste. “Okay, okay, bye! I love you!”

You watch as Izuku continues to wave at you from the street, a smile on your face until you turn the corner. Your smile instantly drops as you’re far away.

You give a call to Mina, and she instantly picks up.

“Hello? Are you ready? Damn lover boy has so wrapped around his fingers! You’re so lucky that damn villain has been in a better mood as of late too! Or else… well, I don’t even know what you would be doing!” Mina’s voice groans as you don’t even have the voice to speak back to her.

“I’m sorry... but okay, where to first?”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Five Hours Later

You ran along rooftops, your eyes locked on the man running away from you. Your breathing is harsh, raspy. You’ve been running for almost an hour now, jumping and weaving through pipes. You’re trying to get to him, the one man you’ve been chasing for years now. The man that taunted your dreams. Your life.

Your eyes caught onto the rubbish on a nearby ceiling, and you throw out your arm. Yellow energy shooting from your arms as it attaches to the objects and fall. Trapping the man by high walls, and a fifty story drop.

“Come on, you know you want to give in!” You pant as the man stops running, he turns around, his guard is up. His gaze concentrated on you entirely as you stop in front of him. The yellow energy filling your hands as you raise your own guard. “Give in.”

“As much as I would love to wrestle it out with you, sweetheart, I’m in a loving relationship.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm as green lights spark out of his skin. You ready yourself for anything.

The two of you were among the minuscule population that had superpowers. A revolutionary feat that had the world in battle. You were a superhero. As if you were straight off a comic book, you fought against people who threatened those beneath them. Hell, most times you were a glorified therapist! You really only hardly ever got into fistfights, but this man. This… vile man in front of you was an exception. He was cruel.

Using this power of his to create chaos and mayhem. It was not something you liked, you hated him for it, and you have been trying to get him. To corner him! But he was always one step ahead. A finger brushes away from you as you tried to get him.

It was a dreadful and repeating dance now, one the two of you frequently explored. You would lunge forward, and he would take a step backward, you would spin out, and he would pull you back in. Even the way you two fought, it was fluid, sharp, deadly, yet melodic. Had it not been for the fire in your stance, the occasional locking fists, it could have been a dance.

“You know, I pray for the person you kiss at night, they must be so disappointed in who you are.” You say as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Don’t be jealous that it isn’t you.”

“I don’t think I could ever be jealous of your so-called significant other.” You laugh, your eyes glaring at him.

The masks on your face covered everything but your eyes. You could not tell what color his eyes were, but you knew he was looking at you. The only thing you needed though was to have him pinned to the ground. His wrists in a handcuff as you dropped him off to the police. Then you’d be able to go home to Izuku, to tell him the only secret you kept from him.

“Mm, I guess so! But, I will have to bid you adieu, my sweet Zeal! Duty calls and well, I’m merely here to distract you!”

Your eyes widened as an explosion blew in the distance, and you whipped around. You snap back around to see him waving goodbye, and you snarl. “Fuck you, asshole!” You took off in the direction of the explosion, your heart hammering away as you near it. Screams and cries echoing through the streets as you jumped in to help. Your words aiding everyone in the firey trap.

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you!” You repeated over and over. Your mask showing your smile as you tried to ease crying victims.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

One Month Later

You wore an elegant dress.

It hugged your body as you stared into the mirror, your eyes burning into your reflection as you did your makeup.

You were very scared. It was a month since that explosion. A month since you first experienced someone dying because of you. Since then, you’d been on edge. You fear it was going to happen again. Scared that while you were out with Izuku you get attacked. Your worst fear was seeing the man you love die in your arms.

“Hey there, baby,” Izuku says walking into your room. Your eyes look up at him in the mirror, and your smile is affectionate. Izuku is in a pair of dark blue slacks. A white button-up shirt that hugged his chest beautifully, and a black-tie with a jacket on. His hair combed back, overall, he was drop-dead gorgeous.

The green-haired man walks to you and hugs you by your waist. Izuku's eyes dawdling on your outfit as you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple. “Hi.” You smile as he kisses your forehead.

“Who you getting all dressed up for?” He asks jokingly, and you hum as you lean up against his body. You’re grateful for his support. His hands stroke through your long and styled hair, his fingers twirling your locks in his hands. “I hope it’s not for me because that would be awkward…”

You snorted as you hit his collarbone with your head, “Yeah it would be! I was actually on my way for a booty call. Do you know Bakugou Katsuki? Mm, good, well you see he just really really knows how to fuck my pussy right. It’s immeasurable, really! I recommend you give him a spin one day.” You cackle and his fingers pinch your sides.

“Watch it, and you’ll be covering the tab tonight.” Izuku teases you as he nuzzles your neck with his nose.

“Oh, don’t worry! I also have another booty call, you may know him as well! Todoroki Shouto? Super rich!”

Izuku laughs and you laugh as well your lips caressing against his with echoing pecks. “They wish they had someone like you in their lives.” He whispers against your mouth, and your smile drowned with love.

“I don’t blame them.” You whisper as you continue pressing kisses to his mouth, not wishing to let this end. “Besides! All my friends have wanted to, and I quote ‘climb you like a tree’.” You quote with your hands before gripping his jacket pulling him in closer. “God, I love you.”

“And as much as I would love to show you how much I love you, we have a reservation we can’t miss.” Izuku moans as he pulls you to your feet. You huff as you roll your eyes, your arms wrapping around his neck as you nudge your nose against his.

“When has that ever stopped you before, Midoriya?” You tease as Izuku smirks, his mouth pressing against yours softly.

You move to deepen it, but he bends down quickly, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks out. “WE AREN’T MISSING IT!” Izuku yells over your shrieking laughter as he runs out of your house.

The dinner is fantastic.

Romantic and special.

You love the way Izuku’s eyes burn into you the entire night, his energy never once wavering. His hand held yours after the meal was over. You were complaining about never being able to eat again. Izuku listens to you all while he presses fluttering kisses against your wrist. You giggle out his name as he refuses to quit, and your cheeks glow red.

“Y/l/n y/n,” Izuku states, and you raise your eyebrows inviting him to continue. “I met you in a bar more than a year ago, and I knew the second I caught your eye I was going to fall in love with you. I didn’t expect you to come back to me after that first night.”

Your heart stills suddenly, and a warm pool fills your body as you’re realizing what is happening.

“Sex with you is incredible, phenomenal even. Honestly, it’s why I wanted you back, but your soul. Your energy, I love you so much…” Izuku smiles as he kisses the back of your hand. “I love the way you hate Monday mornings like the stereotypical dumbass you are. I love that you always jump onto your bed, you do not have to, you’re not that short! But you do… you complete me. You make me want to be a better person every time I do anything… and I have one last thing to ask…”

You wipe away tears that continue to pour out of your eyes, and you sob as a waiter places a covered plate in front of you.

“Will you marry me, y/n? Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

The silver lid comes off, and you continue to sob as a black velvet box presents itself on a plate. A luminescent diamond ring shining against the light. The words he uttered printed in chocolate on the plate. Izuku is on his knee in front of you, the ring in his hands as you sob into his neck.

Your head nods over and over.

“Yes!” You cry as you pepper wet kisses all over his face. “Yes, please! Yes!”

The diamond ring slips onto your finger, and you can’t even begin to describe your emotions as you kiss him. The cheering of the crowds disappearing as you hold him even closer.

That night, you arch off the bed many times. Your voice full of mirth and joy, Izuku’s voice needy and never once anything but loving.

He asked you for your hand that night, and yet you united in a whole other way. The overwhelming love between the two of you palatable the entire night.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

One Week Later

You struggle against the wall, gasping as the villain holds you by your throat. You had foiled his next plan and were now paying dearly for it.

You slam your foot into his crotch and he grunts, letting you go. You collapse to the ground gasping for air. You stagger but act quickly, sweeping his feet out from underneath him. He falls to the ground, and you shoot energy from your hands, allowing you to quickly and smoothly hop on top of him. You press your knees into his arms, and he hisses.

His legs sweep up, kicking you forward and you tumble off of him.

So the two of you embark on another dangerous dance of yours. Mina screaming in your ear about the dangers lurking around you if you don’t get out of there! But you had landed a hit, you were going to get him today!

You duck under a punch and shove a palm to his ribcage. He stumbles backward, you narrow your eyebrows as you lock an energy strand around his leg, pulling him in. You race over, but you miss the electricity escaping his skin. You’re blown backward, white-hot pain scorching your cheek, the mask on your face cracking in two. You gasp for air, the mask cracking completing as it falls to the ground. Fuck… you couldn’t hear Mina yelling at you anymore as knees slam into your chest and you wheeze.

Your eyes lock onto the villain before you. His arm cocked back for another punch, but he’s frozen. His body is still. You don’t feel your energy power up, only that you’re arm is thrust up and he’s thrown off you. A sickening crash heard and you sit up wheezing.

You stare at the man, your vision dizzy, and you feel sick.

Not because you’re dizzy, but because of the face that's revealed as his mask cracks around him.

Izuku.

His green eyes are so wide, and your eyes are tearing up.

He’s speechless, and you're cursing his name.

He can’t stand up, and you stumble to your feet, swaying where you stand.

“Get the fuck out of there, y/n!” Mina's voice is yelling at you, and you flinch finally hearing it.

“‘Zuku…” You whisper, your head shaking in disbelief. “You can’t be… how are you Deku?”

The villain's name. The name you loathe, the name you refuse to use. You prefer villain because giving him a name gives him an identity. A reason for him to be committing the atrocities he’s committed.

How was this man in front of you the person you loved with all your heart?

How was this the man who loved you tenderly and gently? The man who was afraid to deny the simplest of favors because he was a generous and kind person.

You can’t remember running away. You only remember that you’re back in your house sobbing as you stare at the diamond ring on your nightstand.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Two Days Later

You stare at the ceiling of your room. You feel hallow.

Since that fateful encounter, neither one of you has attempted to reach out. Neither one of you calling, texting, or showing up. You hated it, but you couldn’t stand seeing him here. How could you ever talk to the man you love knowing who he was? What he was… what he is?

You knew everyone had secrets, but why was his secret this? Why couldn’t it have been that he was a soprano vocalist in an acapella group? Something embarrassing so that you could tease him!! But not this, anything but this…

The engagement ring is on your finger still. It makes perfect sense, everything tells you that it should be there. But it feels heavy… it weighs you down in more ways than it’s weight. Could you really forgive a man like him? Yes, he’s your Izuku, but he’s also Deku.

Notorious as the underground crime king, Deku was someone you’ve been fighting since day one. It made you nauseous just thinking about how that man was your Izuku.

How were they the same person?

The floorboards in your hallway creak, and you slam up. Your eyes concentrating on the doorframe. Your mouth runs dry as you stare at angry green eyes. His mouth pressed into a flat line as his hands roughly weave through his hair.

It hurts knowing that it wasn’t a hoax. You knew Midoriya Izuku like the back of your hand and being able to read him now burned your throat and your heart. You lick your lips as he steps closer his eyes focused on you.

“You’re Zeal?”

“You’re Deku…”

Izuku shakes his head, his lips barking with cold humor as he can’t believe it. To be fair, you can’t either as you stare at his conflicted features.

“I don’t understand?” He admits, his eyes swimming with confusion, anger, and yet longing.

“You and me both,” You laugh bitterly, you shake your head as you look up at him. “Care to explain?”

“I don’t really want to.” Izuku shakes his head, his smile sad, and you blink.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” You snap, your brows furrowing as you stand up, stalking over to Izuku who held his ground. “You’re the one causing all this mayhem, and you’re not going to even explain it to me?!”

“What’s the point, y/n? So that you can cry the next time we meet? You’re not going to give me mercy! You don’t understand! So why should I bother?!” Izuku’s face clouded, angry, and focused. You’re almost nose to nose as you roll your eyes.

“Because you fucking love me!” You hiss, shoving Izuku with your full strength. This entire time you’ve been able to pull off using mere fractions of your strength. Enough to play fight with Izuku, but definitely not enough to send him stumbling backward.

Izuku’s green eyes snap on you as he gathers his balance. The freckles on his forehead disappearing as he furrows his eyebrows. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what? I just found out my fiancée is a fucking spandex-wearing wanna-be-hero!”

“I AM A HERO!” You scream, your hands pulling at the roots of your hair. Your heart is racing in the worst of ways, you feel faint, ready to fall over and never wake back up. “I save people nearly every damn day, Izuku! I save people from you! What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!”

There’s a glower on his face, and you know it’s because you’re putting Izuku on a fence he doesn’t want to be. A fence that he hates. Izuku always had something to say, he wasn’t one to pretend to not have an opinion, and so this was killing him.

“Some people in this world deserve to have checks,” Izuku states his voice steely calm, his eyes raging. “I don’t do anything to people who don’t deserve it.”

Your nostrils flare, and you can feel your throat thick with emotions. What the actual fuck was he on? “Really? Do these people deserve to die? People fucking deserve to get their life blown to shreds because of what? Because you think they’re corrupt? Oh, grow the fuck up, Izuku! No, I don’t believe your bullcrap! Do you think I really haven’t tried finding correlations? Correlations for every single crime you committed? Yes, these people are terrible! But that’s why we have other ways of stopping them! You can’t play fucking god and decide whether these people deserve to live or not! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

You’re pressed flat against his chest. Your chest heaving with lack of air and overwhelming emotions. Izuku’s face contorted with anger. His green eyes flashing before sinking into blackness.

Then you say words you wish you could regret, words that broke your own heart as you said it.

“How can you expect me to love someone like you?”

His lips are on yours suddenly.

“This is fucking why I kept it a secret from you all along, I knew you wouldn’t agree.” Izuku heavily pants against your lips.

You reciprocate his kiss. Your fingers bunch around his green curls as he picks you up. Your chest burning from lack of air as his fingers dig into your sides. “Shut the fuck up, Izuku!” You snap, pulling on his hair so harshly his head snaps up. Your lips attack his neck as soon as you see his exposed skin.

You bite harshly against his neck. Its less of a nibble that people usually use for hickies, and instead it’s a full-blown bite. Izuku lets out a snarl as after you bite down again, your hot tongue goes to soothe the inflamed skin.

He pants as he tosses you on the bed a movement you’ve always enjoyed, and even now still do. Izuku’s shirt is quickly taken off his body, and you stare at the scars on his body. The overwhelming realization that every single scar caused by you. You had scarred him. You hate to admit it, but that horrible realization sends a pool of heat down to your cunt. You rub your thighs together as he climbs over you.

“The world’s greatest hero Zeal is about to be fucked by her greatest enemy,” Izuku mutters as he presses his mouth back against yours.

The kiss feels poisonous. Your skin burning in every place he kisses you. It’s corrupt and you know it. But… his touches are also your antidote. His trailing hands that grip your breast. You arch off the bed and your erratic heart stirs. Your face twisting as you let out a moan. His tongue slips into your mouth, his hot and heavy tongue.

It dances around in your mouth, a dance that makes you think of your rooftop dance. It’s attacking, evading, pulling each other close for no reason other than to fluster the other.

You slip your hand down from his neck and grasp his dick through his pants. A low hiss from Izuku makes you swivel your hips in anticipation. “You’re not my greatest enemy.” You sneer, as you look at Izuku’s dark eyes that are full of want and need. “I don’t have a great enemy, don’t be giving yourself credit where it doesn’t belong!”

He slams your shoulders back onto the mattress. You glare at him as green electricity emerges from his forearms. You’re own energy seconds from materializing, but instead, he uses it to split the dress you’re wearing wide open. The tearing of the fabric makes your eyes run wide as you can not believe he just ruined your favorite dress. “Whoops.” Is all he says before attaching his lips onto your breasts.

His mouth attacks a sensitive part of your breast. You let out a staggering moan. Your legs clenching together at the overwhelming pleasure just by his touch. You hate that. Your arms move to remove the bra from your body, and you grin at his expression. He didn’t like that at all.

“Whoops,” You taunt, a simper blazing over your features. “Did I do something wrong?”

Izuku’s nostrils flare now and you roll the two of you over, your strength catching him off guard as you pinned him down. You roll your hips against his crotch, and you delight in the fact that you can feel his boner right on your ass. “Wow,” You mutter as you give another roll, you turn your attention towards his restrained pants. Izuku curses your name as you glance back at his scrunched up face. “Do you want me to do something about it?” You ask a taunt in your tone.

A sadistic smile fills your face as he nods his head rapidly.

“Sorry, I only help out good people.” You spit, your ass dragging roughly against his bucking hips again. You smack his chest, not at all liking the disobedience. Not liking the fact that he ruined everything by doing this to the two of you. Your anger is almost palatable, and in your mental fight, Izuku flips the two of you over, dragging you to your knees.

“Would you shut the fuck up, and open your mouth like the good girl you are?” Izuku commands as he takes off his pants. You can’t help the shiver that rolls under your skin at the sight of his dick springing free.

“Just because I’m a hero, doesn’t mean I’ll be helping you out.” You state as you stare at him unimpressed. Although at the moment you want nothing more than to go down on his impressive length. “I only help out people who need the help, not---mmph!!” His mouth is on yours again, and he sits down on the mattress.

His fingers moving to pinch and pull your aroused nipples, “Would you shut up and suck my damn dick?!” Izuku pants against your mouth and you nod, giving in.

Your hand has a vice grip over his twitching cock, and you smirk up at Izuku. His eyes hooded as you stare at him.

“I must say,” You begin to confess, as you arch over him. Your free hand tracing shapes into his thigh as you give the tip of his head a few kitten licks. Smiling when you see the clear pre-cum escaping the tip. “Aren’t you at all embarrassed to admit that the greatest superhero has you on the--”

Your words silenced as Izuku takes your head and sinks your mouth around his dick. You resist the urge to gag as his cock hits the back of your throat. “You can’t fucking talk with my cock down your throat can you?” Izuku hisses as you moan softly around his dick. “Try fucking talking more, see where that fucking gets you.”

You bob your head against his length, smirking when his head throws back. His hips snapping against your mouth. You gag slightly this time. The wet sounds and struggling breathing turning Izuku on further. He increases his speed.

You drop your jaw further. Your fingernails scratching the underside of his dick as he fucked your face. “Shit, y/n!” He grunts as he vehemently continues pounding away. His brows scrunched as his pleasure was slowly winning over him. Your eyes begin to water slightly as the lack of oxygen burns your lungs. The size, and girth of his cock stretching out your throat as you sank all the way down to the base of his cock. It was turning you on so much as you once more moaned. “You take my cock so good, like a good fucking whore,” Izuku growls as he brushes your hair out of your face, and your nose is now in contact with his lower hips.

You hold onto his moving hips, your gagging was a noise that was happening a lot more now, but Izuku didn’t care. His musty scent was overwhelming and you moan louder, why was he so damn alluring. He was relentless in your mouth. Your pussy was throbbing in anticipation for him to finish with your mouth. “Fuck,” Izuku hisses. You can’t prepare as his hot sticky seed shoots down your throat, and you pull away gasping for air.

His mouth is on your again, and his tongue slips into your mouth. His cum is still in your mouth, and when he pulls away, a saliva trail mixed with both his spit and cum. Izuku snarls as you continue panting for air.

“Now lay down and spread your legs open, like the fucking slut you are,” Izuku growls into your ear and you can’t help but nod. You slip off your soaked panties and get on all fours.

You toss your head back to stare at Izuku who’s busy rubbing himself, getting ready to come inside of you now. His eyes lock on yours, and a fire erupts in your belly at the sight of your disregard for his directions. You grin wickedly, like hell he was getting his way.

He drags you to him, and you yelp in surprise until the tip of his cock is rubbing up against your aching entrance. “Why are you so bad at following directions?” Izuku groans as he presses kisses down your stomach.

“I only follow people I respect,” You sigh as the tip of his dick enters your sopping cunt, and you move back onto it.

You can’t see his expression, you refuse to look back. You aren’t sure if it’s hurt, lust, or anger but he stills. You’re about to call out his name feeling guilty but he enters you without warning. Completely. With no warning.

“Shit!” You shriek. Your arms almost giving out on you as his dick stretches out your throbbing pussy in only the best of ways.

“You may not like my decisions as a… villain,” Izuku huffs as he slams into your again, your body moving with his thrust. “But here you are. Pussy dripping for a villain, back arched heavenly for a villain, the man making you feel this way is a villain.” With every phrase, he slams into you, and you hiss. He was too fucking huge in your throbbing core.

You move backward. Your pants are harsh as the movement was something you much more enjoyed. “Don’t worry…” You wheeze as his lips trail down your spine again, his fingers circling your clit. “This will be the only time.”

He freezes within you, but you don’t care, as you slam yourself back against him. An animalistic growl rips from his throat as he begins pounding into you. It’s different from usual. Unlike any other time, he’s not holding back, he slams into you without mercy, without care, without caution.

The feeling is almost overwhelming, his fingers digging into your clit as he thrusts in and out. You curse as his waist slams into your ass. The sounds of your rutting bodies making very loud sounds throughout your room. You mewl as his fingers pinch your throbbing clit. Electricity running through your veins, as your arms give out. Your chest pressed into the mattress. Izuku is drilling into you, his hips slamming into your spasming body.

“Baby!” You cry out, unable to keep yourself from using a pet name as he hits your g-spot.

“I know,” Izuku pants harshly.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his hips never falter. They continue to hit again and again into your g-spot. Your legs shaking completely as you struggle to keep up with him. Stars are forming in your vision as moans continue to pour from your mouth. His name a repeating verse on your tongue. Izuku uses this as fuel, as ambition as he continues to circle his fingers into your clit. His hips were merciless as he shoves your chest further into the mattress.

“FUCK!” You scream as your orgasm is teasing you with a release. “Let me come, ‘Zuku, please! Fuck! You’re so fucking good to me, let me come around your cock please!” You beg your pride now out of the window as you only wish to come around his throbbing dick. “Baby, please! I need… ohh my god… I needa--”

The coil in you is burning, the fire is everywhere throughout your body, and you’re finally tipping over.

“Come for me, love.” Izuku hisses as he presses his sweating forehead to your back. His fingers pinching both your throbbing clit and sensitive nipple.

The coil snaps, and you come hard around his spasming dick, his name a scream in your mouth. Your pussy clamps like a vice around his dick, you pant for air, and you feel Izuku shudder. He was close.

You turn your head to watch his screwed up face as he chases his orgasm. You smirk as you feel your walls clench around him again, and again. He can’t handle it anymore as he comes within you. His dick slips out from inside you, and you groan at the lack of feeling as he collapses beside you. You smile as you sink into the mattress beside him.

Green eyes meet y/e/c.

It’s over.

The smiles of love and post-sex feelings disappear. Sadness filling its space instead, and you stare.

This wouldn’t work. This couldn’t work.

“I--I’m…”

“I know.”

“Izuku…”

“I do love you.”

“I-I love you, too.”

“I’m sorry it came down to this…”

“I am too.”

“You can keep my stuff.”

You nod your head as you watch him roll off your bed and dress.

Izuku walks away leaving you on your bed. Alone. Cold.

Izuku is panicking, what is he supposed to do now?

“Izuku?!” You yell, and he knows it’s wrong, but his heart jumps in hope. “I love you.”

Your lips are over his again, and Izuku wants nothing more than to turn the clock. To go back to that first night when he saw you from across the bar.

You pull away before Izuku can have enough, your hands lingering in his before you turn away. Tears streaming down your face.

The diamond engagement ring seemed dull in his fingers. It was nothing but a promise to each other that was never meant to be.

Now, what were the two of you to do?

All was fair in love and war, but neither one of you wanted a life without the other.

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nottonyharrison · 3 years

Text

I’ve seen this post going around the Good Girls fandom this morning, and as it’s a small community with a lot of people new to regular fandom interaction I thought I would take a moment to discuss my own experience with being a one time popular content creator.

This might get long so putting it under a cut

For starters, this isn’t going to be about fic (well some of the stuff was sort of fic I guess but it’s not as you may think of it), however fanartist experiences can be very similar to authors, particularly in regards to the expectations your audience places on your content.

A few years ago I made a piece of fanart which I sat on for a while. I liked the concept, so I made some more that were in the same vein, and ended up creating a sideblog to post them on. The first piece gained some traction, and within two weeks of starting the blog and posting regularly, it had over 10,000 followers.

That’s when the problems started. I never intended or expected my work to have thousands of notes, and it was daunting. Not only did I suddenly have to deal with multiple messages demanding well thought out responses, but I was also receiving messages telling me other places on the internet my work had been reposted without my permission. I bought into this for a while, as I was excited to have made something that resonated with people, and I was loving the attention after years of creating middling content.

I started creating more and more content. I was posting three times a week. I was taking requests and trying to figure out ways to get other people’s headcanons into the little AU I had created. I became obsessed with tiny details and perfecting every tiny thing. I was having fun.

Within a few months though, I was over it. My work was popping up on listicles. I had been interviewed by the website of a popular tech magazine, and received a massive amount of biased and disgusting hate by fanboys who didn’t like that a woman had made something they were seeing all over the internet. I was accused of being a racist for doing a black and white edit featuring men of colour. I was accused of being an anti for refusing to post shipper content featuring a character I wasn’t interested in. I was accused of not creating enough fanservice content and told it was my obligation as a popular content creator to do it (I shit you not). I was accused of being a misogynist for not posting enough work with women in it. I started receiving asks demanding I go back to posting as regularly as I had in the early days of the blog, which I had started when I had a lot more free time on my hands. I had people posting on their blogs that I had ignored their ask because I didn’t want to deal with the accusation they had pointed at me, sometimes within an hour or so of sending it when I was literally in bed asleep.

I became obsessed with finding any website my work appeared on, and reading the comments so I could get ahead of any criticism to formulate a response before I received it directly. This negative interaction (which to be clear, was mostly unfounded and sent exclusively by people who didn’t understand the core purpose of the blog, or were just being trolls), caused me to start hating what I had created.

I went on a hiatus for six months.

That hiatus turned into a year with maybe one post. Since then, I have only created around 6-8 more pieces of work for that blog, and while it still has a lot of followers, most of them are inactive or minimal in their interaction, so I get a few reblogs and more likes, but overall the interaction is average. The fandom isn’t dead, but it’s certainly not at the heights it was in 2013 (no it’s not superwholock).

What’s the point of all this? I guess it’s to say that being a popular creator is a double edged sword. Yes, you get lots of interaction and often that can be incredibly inspiring and exciting. It’s nice to have your ego boosted, let’s be honest! It’s trite to say ‘don’t worry about how many comments you get’ because they do matter to a lot of people - including me. Validation matters.

But when your work is huge and the volume of interaction you’re getting includes people who might have normally ignored your work (e.g. a fic that someone reads because it’s that One Popular Story but the summary/tags aren’t really for them), it can come with problems including people trolling because they’re jealous or just plain mean, holding you to some kind of morally superior standard as if you’re a canon creator, or sending you asks that you spend hours agonising over the response for in fear of saying something tumblr deems to be Problematic™.

So I guess what I’m trying to say I learned some things from going through this experience, and I would like to share them with you

You are not obliged to respond to anyone who criticises you, regardless of if that criticism has merit. It may be valid criticism, and if so it is important to listen and consider it in the future, but you are not obliged to publicly post the response on your blog. Respond to people privately, and if they’re on anon they’re probably sending it because they know your only way to reply is to do it in public. Also, be prepared for any private responses to be screenshotted and posted because yes people will do that.

Never read the comments outside of posts on your own account or posts you’re tagged in by friends

If you need to abandon something it’s okay, you have no obligation to your followers. Stepping away can sometimes make you fall back in love with your work, and give you a new direction or different perspective.

Ending up on listicles sucks because it takes your work out of context.

If you do read comments on someone else’s post, don’t interact, or vagueblog about it. It’s not worth your energy.

Being someone who creates work that sits in the middle ground of fandom popularity is a very nice place to be.

Bowing to demands is a great way to set yourself up for burnout.

Your life situation changes, and you are under no obligation to create at the same frequency as previous.

Sometimes you will regret something you create, or you will view it differently over time. Learn from it and move on, don’t overanalyze it.

Don’t post your stuff on Reddit.

That’s it. I’m not sure what the point of all this was, but I just had a reaction when I read that post something in it just resonated with me.

#on fandom #my experiences #just to be clear this is not unsolicited advice #this is my story #and my experience #and the things I learned for me and may not apply to you

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sufferingsoup · 4 years

Text

Listen I’ve been fucking ~obsessed~ with @thenerdyalchemist ‘s pirate AU (I’m sure nobody could tell bc I definitely don’t reblog eVrY dAmN pOsT of it nope not me never😂😂) and I just needed to write this scene. I’ve had it in my head since I read all the HCs for this AU and I needed to put it on paper lol. I’m not great at writing whatsoever, I’m v out of practice and def didn’t edit this, but I wrote it and it exists so I might as well post it right? Lmao. Anyway here it is hope u enjoy 😩 (Also sorry in advance abt the wack ass formatting lmao. I never make posts on tumblr and I highkey wrote this in a note on my phone and then pasted it in here lol)

Runaan grinned as he practically hung over the side of his ship, watching the familiar dock inch closer and closer. It felt like years since he had been back to this town, /his/ town. He was finally in the home stretch, and his crew couldn’t dock the ship fast enough for him. Before, he could stay out at sea forever. If it weren’t for the need to restock supplies every once in a while, he probably would. The open ocean was his home town, his crew was his family, his ship was his home, he didn’t need anything else before. But now? Now he had a reason to /want/ to go back to land.

/Him./

It had been an absolutely agonizing few months. When he had first set sail, he figured it would be like every other quest. Of course he would miss Ethari dearly, but they would both be busy with their respective work, and they could write to each other in the mean time. But this time was different. The moment he left his heart had sunk, leaving a gaping hole in his chest that widened further as he watched Ethari sit on the dock and wave until he could no longer see him. The first thing he did was write a letter to him. Even though he had only just left, he felt like a huge piece of him was missing without him there by his side. He found that he could not enjoy himself as much as he normally would.

The salty smell of the sea and the rhythmic pounding of the waves that used to calm him no matter how upset he was now served only to fill his thoughts with memories of midnight walks along the beach. The sand between his toes and rough, yet gentle fingers interlacing with his own, shoulders knocking against each other every so often. Looking into those bright amber eyes reflecting the moonlight back at him, putting all of his emotions clearly on display for Runaan to see.

The beating heat of the sun that would warm him through to his bones after a stormy night now reminded him of the forge, his mind replaying all the soft, intimate conversations they had while Ethari tinkered away on whatever his current project was. That thick accent of his, and his deep voice that could command the attention of an entire town if he wanted to, clashing oh-so-beautifully with his gentle laugh and sweet words.

The sea shanties the crew would sing in celebration of a successful mission, the dancing that accompanied them, the merriment he once found endearing and joyous and hilarious now dragged Ethari’s ethereal voice through his mind, reminding him of the many dances they shared during the festivals Ethari would drag him to when he visited. The brightest, purest of grins gracing that magnificent face as they held each other close, moving together to the beat and singing along with the familiar lyrics.

Everywhere he looked he only saw Ethari. All the sounds he heard, the scents he smelled, the touches he felt, the flavors he tasted, everything came back to him. /Oh, Ethari would love these jewels, he would make the prettiest necklace out of them!/ ... /The fire smells just like his workshop tonight, I wonder what he’s working on right now/ ... /Ethari so adores the sound of the seagulls calling out over the beach, I’ll have to tell him how many have followed us!/ All of his thoughts were consumed by /him/. It was driving him mad not being able to see him, hear him, touch him for himself.

But today was the day. /Finally/ he would be able to hold him again, and this time he would not let him go.

Ethari hummed softly as he carefully shined thin wires around the glittering stone. He wanted to make a unique little ring as a returning gift for Runaan. The shiny silver wires braided together and held a small, elegant opal in the center. Runaan’s last letter had informed him that he was almost back again, he was expecting him any day now. He had made sure to clear his schedule for a few days so he could welcome him back properly. He had so many things to tell him and show him, and Runaan always brought him lots of sparkly things when he returned from his quests.

He has been terribly lonely while Runaan was away. He was always a bit uneasy when he left, always worrying for his safety and missing his presence. Working on his projects was much more fun when his heart was safe and sound right next him to tell him stories and laugh at his awful jokes. But this time was much harder.

He was gone for a long time, and even though they wrote each other frequently, nothing could quite fill the hole in his heart. He decided he hated sleeping alone ever since Runaan had begun to stay with him when he would return. Every morning he would awaken to find himself disappointed at the empty silence that met him. Runaan would always be up bright and early, practicing his sword-fighting in the living room or getting chores done for him before the sun even had the chance to peak over the horizon. He would have tea and breakfast ready for him every morning, and Ethari was convinced that there was no better sight than a messy, early-morning Runaan bustling away in the kitchen with his hair down.

No, he didn’t like having breakfast without Runaan at all. Just like he hated walking the market without their arms linked together, Runaan haggling over everything Ethari tried to buy. Just like he hated wandering the beaches alone, without his hard-ass, pirate-king lover to playfully kick sand at and push into the water. Just like he hated coming across a new merchant with fun new foods and goods he had never seen before without Runaan to explain what they were and eagerly buy the lot for him. Life was utterly dull without Runaan by his side.

But soon he would be back. Soon he would be back in his arms.

Runaan pulled his hair out of its messy bun as they approached the dock, allowing it to flow in the breeze as freely and lightly as he felt. The moment the ship was close enough to the dock, he leaped over the side and climbed down.

“Make sure she’s tied down good, lads! I’ll be back in a bit to help with the unloading!” He called to his crew as he ran towards the street.

His heart fluttered as he felt the little ring hidden in his coin purse bounce against his leg. Today was the day. He sped through the market on the familiar route he had taken hundreds of times before. People jumped out of his way as they saw the tattoos on his face, gazing after him questioningly. It wasn’t very usual to see the dreaded pirate king running through town like a giddy schoolgirl. He didn’t care, though. He was on a mission of utmost importance. His body was leading him to his heart as fast as it could carry him. Before he knew it, he could see the familiar old door with the splintering old sign dangling above it, swaying in the light breeze. His grin widened as he picked up his pace for the final few strides. He skidded to a halt in front of the workshop door and kicked it in.

“Ethari!” He shouted, ready to combust from the pure excitement and the slight nerves zipping around throughout his body. The tinker gasped in surprise from his position at his worktable, whipping around to see the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on grinning in the wide-open doorway. He gasped again and slapped a hand over his mouth as hot tears began to sting at the corners of his eyes.

“Runaan!” He replied, getting up from his stool and running toward his lover, “I didn’t know you’d be back so-“

He stopped hard in his tracks a few paces away from him when Runaan suddenly dropped to one knee, staring up into his eyes with the softest look he had ever seen on his hard features. Ethari watched silently with wide eyes as Runaan dug in his coin purse and retrieved a shiny golden band adorned with tiny, glittering aventurine crystals around the middle, holding it up to him.

“Marry me, Ethari.” He breathed. The tears were flowing freely down Ethari’s cheeks now.

“Are you sure?” He asked, voice small and quivering. Runaan nodded hastily, grabbing Ethari’s hands tightly.

“I don’t want to be without you for another second, my darling heart. I want to travel the world with you by my side. I want to show you all the amazing things I get to see. I want you to sing to me while we lay together in our hammock and let the waves rock us to sleep. I want to make you tea every morning for the rest of my life, just so I can see that beautiful, sleepy, lopsided grin of yours first thing every day. You are all I need in this life. Please, my love, my /heart/, be my forever.”

Ethari fell to his knees in front of him, sobbing into his hands. Runaan pulled him into a tight embrace, tangling a hand into his messy hair as Ethari buried his face in the crook of his neck. They stayed that way for a moment, Ethari crying onto his shoulder as Runaan comforted him gently. When Ethari had calmed down enough to think, Runaan chuckled softly.

“Is that a yes?” He teased.

Ethari pulled back, cupping Runaan’s face in his hands and staring deeply into his eyes.

“What else could it possibly be, my shade?” He sniffed before crashing their lips together desperately.

After a moment of passionate kissing, Runaan pulled back and took Ethari’s hand gently in his own, sliding the sparkling ring onto his finger. Ethari lifted his hand to admire it. The gems were the color of Runaan’s eyes, and they sparkled beautifully no matter which way the light hit them. Suddenly, he remember the little ring he had dropped on his table when his door had been busted in. He gasped and ran over to grab it. Runaan followed him curiously, trying to peek over his shoulder before Ethari turned and held it up to him.

“It was just supposed to be a ‘welcome back’ gift, but it seems it might be a bit more than that now.” He giggled as Runaan stared at it in awe.

“It’s beautiful...” he said as Ethari took his hand and gently placed it on his finger. He turned his hand over and over again, taking in every bit of the artistry and craftsmanship that went into the tiny piece of jewelry before grinning up at his newly betrothed. He fell into Ethari’s strong arms and kissed him again - more gently this time - before resting their foreheads together.

“So,” Ethari started with a mischievous grin, “does this mean I finally get to watch you swab the poop-deck now? I was never on the ship long enough to see it.” He teased. Runaan groaned, but he couldn’t mask the laugh that bubbled up from his belly.

“No,” he sassed back, “it means /I/ get to watch /you/ do it. The /king/ never does hard manual labor.” He grinned, pinching Ethari’s sides. Ethari snorted and grabbed his hands, wrapping his arms around him again and pinning them behind his back firmly. He smirked at him and brushed his nose lightly against Runaan’s.

“We’ll see about that later tonight now won’t we, my /king/.”

#tdp pirate au #tdp #ruthari #runaan #ethari #long post #sorry im bad at fomatting loool #my writing

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dear-selena · 4 years

Note

Omg, if you’re feeling it could you make a Caught Web Handed part two? I loved part one sm!

Caught Web Handed (Pt. 2)

Peter Parker x Reader

Request: “Omg, if you’re feeling it could you make a Caught Web Handed part two? I loved part one sm!”

Summary: When a new Tumblr blogger who claims to be Spider-Man starts reblogging a ton of Spider-Man fanfiction, including yours, the community goes into a frenzy and you confront the boy who promised not to say anything.

Warnings: Some swearing, this is literally so meta be warned

A/N: I would like to thank the anon who requested this two months ago! I’m sorry it took me so long to write this out! I genuinely didn’t know how to continue this story until recently. If you want me to continue this, please let me know! I could possibly write one more part to this, but only if you guys want it.

Words: 1971

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Part 1

—————-

You love that Tumblr started the group chat feature, but damn, you wish you got notifications from it.

Yawning, you cover your mouth and suddenly crave your bed. Last night, you stayed up messaging a ton of bloggers in a new group chat someone created for your favorite web-slinging hero and didn’t even realize how late it was when the conversation whined down.

The group chat is called “Them Spider-Man OCs 😩😍🕸🕷❤️💙” and is filled with a bunch of your mutuals. The entire night was spent complimenting one another on each other’s fanfictions, and sharing anything and everything about everyone’s OC’s. You couldn’t help the giddiness you felt when people told you how much they loved Trevor Trenton, your Spider-Man OC.

Because Tumblr mobile refuses to send notifications when you get new messages, you stayed on the app for hours to make sure you were as involved in the conversation as possible. You knew you could have left the conversation at any moment, but you were just way too excited to finally bond with all your mutuals at once.

Walking down the halls of Midtown High, you lazily stroll to your first class as if you had all the time in the world to get there. You hadn’t seen your friends yet this morning, making time go especially slow. Not knowing what else to do, you decide to open the Tumblr mobile app and check for new notifications in your group chat. To your surprise, a green circle appeared on the group chat photo someone edited of Spider-Man swinging through Queens with heart emojis all around him.

You open the chat, and your heart jumps immediately.

(Your Favorite Spider-Man Blog): Guys did TheOfficialSpiderMan account reblog your work too or is it just me?!?!

Suddenly frozen in place, you reread (Favorite Spider-Man Blog)’s message. With your heart bouncing in your chest, full of uncomfortable adrenaline, you quickly leave the chat and check messages and had to stop yourself from screaming.

An account called TheOfficialSpiderMan had indeed reblogged your latest update on your Trevor Trenton fanfiction.

Tapping on the blogger’s icon, you start investigating if this was truly the “Official” Spider-Man. The first thing you do is read the bio:

“Yes, I’m the real Spider-Man XD. Still trying to figure out how to use this site so bear with me.

Queens, NY | Avenger | Science Nerd”

Looking at the blog’s avatar, you see that it’s a selfie that the hero took while swinging in the air. You’ve never seen a photo of Spider-Man like this before, but you couldn’t tell if it was edited or not. If this is a fake account, this person must be really good at photoshop…

Scrolling through the blog, you notice that this person’s not only reblogged your fanfiction but almost all your mutuals too. You recognized some of the stories as one’s you’ve read prior and almost all of them were from people who were in the Spider-Man group chat with you. Eventually, however, you scrolled to the bottom of the blog and found a simple text post.

“Hey Everyone! It’s me, Spider-Man. I’m just here to interact with you guys cause I’ve heard that I have fans on this site. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for supporting me. Love you all

The post, although wholehearted and sweet, immediately fills you with worry. If this truly was Spider-Man, that means your favorite hero, the hero you’ve been fantasizing about through your writing, was reading your stuff. He was reading this personified version of himself that you created for your silly romantic pleasure, and that scares you shitless. A part of you feels exposed in a way you never thought possible, and even though your Tumblr username doesn’t quite give away your identity, you still feel extremely vulnerable. The thought of the man behind the mask seeing your work makes you feel quite uneasy, especially because you don’t know who the man behind the mask is.

Suddenly, the bell for first-period rings, and you’re brought back to reality. As peers shuffle through the halls around you, you shove your phone in your pocket and pick up the pace to get to your first class. While walking, you couldn’t help but wonder Why Spider-Man chose to solely reblog fanfiction. There are plenty of Spider-Man Tumblr posts consisting of gif-sets, fan edits, and general news about him, so why fanfiction?

It was as if Spider-Man has some sort of motivated intentions.

——————

Peter Parker hits the reblog button on yet another well-written story about him.

Well, better yet, him as a superhero.

Ever since he found out that you write fanfiction about Spider-Man a couple of months back, Peter couldn’t stop wondering what else was written about him. After a self-debate for whether or not it’d be a good idea to actually make a Tumblr account and find your work, he decided to go for it. After all, he was pretty bored last night, and what better way to interact with fans that through a popular fandom website?

So he created “TheOfficialSpiderMan” and immediately started reading fanfiction.

He has to say, he was quite amazed at how talented his fans were. A lot of the stories and characters they created were so unique, and the plots they wrote up were quite clever! He instantly picked up on some tropes people would write about, including ones where the reader was Iron Man’s child (he has to admit, he found those stories quite meta).

And after a ton of scrolling and reblogging, he came across a story about a version of Spider-Man named Trevor Trenton. He immediately knew that this story was yours, and took notice of your Tumblr name, (Your Tumblr blog name). He wanted to follow you but figured he should lay low right now. ‘I shouldn’t be giving certain fans special attention… especially if this certain fan is a good friend of his and possibly his crus-.’

“Hey, Peter!”

Peter turns around to see Ned with his usual smile on his face.

“Oh, Ned! Guess what?” Peter proceeds to shove his phone in his best friend’s hand. “I found (Y/N)’s Tumblr account!”

Ned’s eyes go wide as he examines Peter’s phone, seeing a post with your blog name on it. “Oh my god, Peter,” Ned starts to laugh. “You did not just join Tumblr to find her fanfiction.”

“Of course not,” Peter protests, going to show the blog account. “Spider-Man did.”

Ned looks up at Peter with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “Damn Peter,” Ned says sarcastically. “Didn’t think you’d be one to join fandom culture.”

Peter rolls his eyes as the bell rings, indicating that second-period was about to start. Saying a quick goodbye to Ned, Peter quickly makes his way to his robotics class, a class that you just so happen to share with him. As Peter enters the room, he scans it and instantly spots you at one of the workshop tables, head buried in your phone, and wide-eyed.

Peter smirks. He knows exactly what’s going on.

He makes his way over you, and plops down in the seat next to you, causing you to look up at him in surprise. “Oh, hey Peter.” you squeak out, completely caught off-guard.

Peter couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. The last time he saw you this flustered was when MJ caught you writing Spider-Man fanfiction back at his place, and he had to admit, you looked pretty cute. “Hey, (Y/N). What are you looking at?”

You look back at your phone and quickly snooze the screen, shoving your phone in your pocket. “Oh, i-it’s nothing…” You say unconfidently, a blush appearing on your face. “Just a stupid Tumblr update.”

“Oh?” Peter asks, knowing what you meant by ‘update’. “Does it have to do with Spider-Man?” He couldn’t help but push the conversation on you. He was too excited to see your reaction.

“Actually, yeah.” You finally admit after a moment. “My mutuals and I are kinda freaking out cause a blog that claims to be Spider-Man is reblogging our stories. It’s weird.”

“Really, weird?” He questions. “What makes that so weird?”

“Why would a superhero go online just to read fanfiction. Superheroes shouldn’t even know about this kinda stuff. They should be focused on, I don’t know… saving the world or something. It’s just weird that he’s only reblogging fanfiction and-.” You cut yourself off when you look up at Peter and see he’s just sitting there, head propped up against his hand, leaning on the table with his elbow, sporting a knowing smirk of some sort. Confused at why he was looking at you like that, you almost question him. But that was when you started to connect the dots.

It feels like Spider-Man has some motivated intentions. Peter Parker is intentionally talking about this with you.

You squint your eyes at the boy in front of you. “Peter, did you tell Spider-Man about fanfiction?”

Peter blinks, his smirk off his face. “W-what? No, I didn’t.”

Your glare intensifies, and Peter sits up straight. “Are you lying to me? You just had your ‘I-know-something-you-don’t face on.”

Peter swallows, suddenly nervous. He didn’t think you’d react like this. “I’m not lying, (Y/N). I did not tell Spider-Man about fanfiction.”

You did… a couple of months ago…

You look away, now glaring at the table. “Then explain how Spider-Man knows about fanfiction and why he only reblogs it?”

Peter starts to sweat. “Uh, I-I don’t know. Maybe he likes to read?”

“Or someone told him to find it?” You look back up at Peter, whose clearly uncomfortable, making it easier for you to believe that he’s lying. “Maybe while they were at their Stark Internship or something?”

Peter mentally facepalms. He’s not getting out of this, is he?

“(Y/N), please.” Peter pleads. “I promise I didn’t say anything to S-Spider-Man. And even if I did, why is it so bad? Why is it bad that he’s reading fanfiction?”

“Because!” You shout, catching the attention of some of your classmates. Embarrassed, you force Peter to crouch down close to you so you can whisper. “The stories on Tumblr can get a bit uncanny. What if he finds smut about himself?”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “What’s a smut?”

You roll your eyes. “Exactly, and I’m NOT going into that right now.” You shudder, realizing what could happen if your favorite hero finds stories like… that.

Nevertheless, you push those thoughts out of your head and continue on. “But seriously Peter. You told me you wouldn’t tell him about this stuff, and how he’s reading a ton of it? Something doesn’t add up.”

Peter wants to argue back, but he honestly doesn’t know what to say. He can’t assure you that your writing is good and that he’s enjoying seeing his fans’ creativity because he’d have to reveal his secret to you, and that’s the last thing he wants to do. Especially now.

Before he knows it, your packing your stuff back up, getting out of your seat and slinging your backpack over your shoulder. “Find me when you can tell me the truth.” With that, you walk to the other side of the room and sit at a new table, just in time for the teacher to walk in and discuss the new project.

Peter couldn’t help but mentally beat himself up. Was doing all this a mistake? He genuinely just wanted to find your work and actually interact with his fans. He never expected it to backfire like this. Now he has to find a way to assure you he wasn’t technically lying, all while keeping his identity a secret. With all the thoughts racing through his mind, there was one that stood out:

He fucked up.

————–

-Peter Parker Tag List-

@sweetcoffeeblandtea // @house-arya // @jovialpeanut // @bookstoreblossom // @jackiehollanderr

-Marvel Tag List-

@sammghgecko

-Permanent Tag List-

@mindset-jupiter // @romance-geek // @imcharishope // @fakindob // @cutiekoa // @wowursofunny // @cals-cigarette // @supernerdycookietrashblr // @delicately-important-trash // @unlikelygalaxygive

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman homecoming #spiderman ffh #spiderman far from home #ffh #marvel #mcu #tom holland #tom holland x reader #dear-selena fanfiction

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kaffeinic · 5 years

Text

Caffeinic | Bang Chan

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue

Pairing: Reader x Barista!Bang Chan

Genre: Fluff // Romance

Warnings: Fem!Reader

Preamble: You’ve been going to the same coffee shop for the past four years. You’ve ordered the same thing almost every single day, and you never, ever skip on that part of your morning. So, when Mrs. Park hired a new barista and the once serene café was suddenly flooded with people every second of the day, you were less than thrilled.

As you both left, Junseok told you that Seoyeon would probably be at the gym for the next two hours. She had been trying to convince him to bring Chan over. After saying your goodbyes, you and Chan piled yourselves into his car.

“I know that it isn’t a necessity, but I’ve really missed my phone.” You said, laughing. He subtly rolled his eyes.

“Kids these days...” He said.

“We are in the same generation!” You playfully yelled. He giggled, turning his key. The car roared to life, and he wasted no time in pulling out of the café’s parking lot.

“So, how are we thinking of going about this?” He asked.

“Just walk up to her and ask for the phone back?” You answered hesitantly. He glanced at you and chuckled.

“Yeah, that’ll definitely work.” He said. You watched the road, sifting through your options.

“Do we have a way to prove it?” You asked. Chan sat in thought before nodding.

“If you give me your number, I’ll call it.” He said. “I’m sure it’s still on. With any luck, it’s with her.” He added. You smiled nervously. You were never one to outwardly confront someone about something like this in public, preferring to remain passive and avoid fights.

“Is this just your way of getting my number?” You asked. He laughed.

“If I can kiss you in the back of a café and not be allowed to have your number, I’d be genuinely surprised.” He retorted. You smiled at him.

“Yes, you can have my number, you dork.” You said. Chan pulled up at the curb of the gym, looking at you with his phone open to the phoning application. You recited your number, watching as he dialed. You heard ringing, but no answer.

“At least we know it’s on.” He said. “Let’s go, love.” You blushed at the nickname, which was funny, because he called you a few other pet names earlier and you didn’t have any form of reaction. Maybe it’s because you know you’re both an ‘item’ now?

Before you could manage to, Chan had moved to your side of the car, opening the door for you. Once you stepped out, you felt his hand catch yours. He stopped you for a moment to intertwine your fingers, smiling. With that, you were off.

The gym was definitely for the higher class portion of society. When you walked in, it became very apparent. You noted the high ceilings and intricate lighting. From the outside, you knew the building was huge, but it felt even larger once you entered. You felt Chan lightly tug your arm to bring you to the concierge who was manning the front desk.

“Oh, hey there, Chan!” The boy said. He seemed to be in his late teens, and very familiar with the Aussie. You were surprised to see that he wasn’t Asian. You had gotten so used to the trademark features of people from Korea that when you saw a foreigner, it threw you for a loop.

“Hey, mate. Can I visit someone really quickly?” He asked. The boy nodded and handed him a visitor’s pass.

“One for your friend, too?” He asked. Chan nodded.

“Of course.”

The boy handed you a visitor’s pass, which was a clip nametag on a lanyard. Once you put it on, you smiled.

“Thank you.” The boy nodded and waved.

“I’ll see you later, bro.” He said to Chan. Chan grinned and waved as well.

“See you!”

You followed Chan as he expertly navigated the building.

“Do you have a second job that I don’t know about?” You asked. Chan stopped and raised a brow at you inquisitively.

“No..?” He said. “Why do you ask?”

“You walk around like you’ve been coming here for a while, and this place is definitely not your average gym.” You said. He laughed.

“I’m sure you noticed my friend at the counter. I was acting as his personal trainer for a few months. He wanted to learn how to use the kind of equipment that they have here. I already knew from the gym that I go to, so... Yeah.” He said. You laughed.

“I’m not grilling you. I was just curious.” You said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go.” He grinned, continuing the journey to find Seoyeon. He stopped at a door near the end of a hallway somewhere in the building. ‘Somewhere,’ because you don’t actually know where in the gym you are. He released your hand, opening the door.

Seoyeon was listening to music through her headphones, running on a treadmill. The rest of the room - which was filled with various types of athletic equipment - was vacant otherwise. You watched as Chan whipped out his phone, calling your number. You could hear the faint sound of your ringtone coming from one of Seoyeon’s bags. She unplugged her ears and walked over to the phone, switching it off.

“So you do have it.” You said. She turned to face you, noticing Chan and immediately standing straighter with a plastic smile.

“Have what?” She asked.

“Her phone. Are you really going to try to deny it?” Chan said. The boy from the front desk walked into the room, standing next to you.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“We’re resolving an issue. She took my phone.” You said. Both of you had spoken quietly to avoid interrupting the conversation.

“I don’t have her phone.” Seoyeon said, placing her hands on her hips. Chan grimaced.

“Well, I have her number. I just called it, and it rang from your bags. Explain that.” He said. Her smile faltered for only a moment.

“Coincidence.”

“If it was a coincidence, then I guess if I call it again, we won’t hear another phone ringing from your stuff?” Chan asked. Seoyeon remained silent. He dialed your number, raising a brow when the resounding ringtone echoed in the room.

“Gym members can be subject to unscheduled bag checks if the attending employee wdeems it necessary.” The boy next to you said. It was obvious he took the quote right out of the rule book.

“You can’t look at my stuff!” Seoyeon yelled.

“Yes, I can - and I will.” He made his way across the room to the bench where her belongings laid, sifting through until he found a cell phone. Even from the distance, you were sure it was yours. “Ma’am?” He asked. You nodded.

“It’s mine.” You confirmed. Chan rang your number once more for the extra bit of proof. Seoyeon’s face was mortified when it rang in the boy’s hand. He walked over and handed you your phone, to which you thanked him. Chan placed his arm around you, and the boy made an audible ‘oh’ sound.

“So, you’re the girl he was telling me about last week?” He asked. “I’m Sam.”

“I’m Y/n.” You replied, shaking his hand. He smiled.

“It’s very nice to meet you.” He turned to Seoyeon. “This incident is going on your record. This is your second strike.” He said. Seoyeon’s face puffed when she pouted at him.

“But Sammy~!” She whined. He held up his hand.

“Nope.” He turned to you and Chan, who were both giggling at his blatant little ‘nope.’ “I hope I’ll get to know you better in the future. In the meantime, I’ll be teasing Channie here for a while.” Chan visibly grimaced, squeezing your shoulder. You chuckled at the two boys and their comments. Seoyeon pushed through the three of you with her bags to exit the gym, stomping loudly with every step. Sam rolled his eyes.

“I think we’ll be off. Thanks for everything, bro.” Chan said to Sam. They said their goodbyes, and you and Chan exited the room. Once you made it to the front doors of the gym, you stopped him.

“Thank you, Channie.” You said. He grasped both of your hands in his, smiling at you.

“Don’t thank me. I’ll be blowing up your phone for days.” He said. You laughed, moving closer. You gave him a soft hug, to which he reciprocated with a firm squeeze. “You know, at some point, I’ll take you on a successful date.” He said.

“I have time now.” You replied. His face lit up with a smile as he jumped around in his spot.

“Coffee time!” He said. You threw your fists into the air enthusiastically.

“Coffee time!”

Fanart for this chapter:

This lovely collage is by @punk-pan-bih-yeets-thru-life. Please send her your love! If you want to make some fanart, send it in~! You’ll get credit.

Is-

Is Caffeinic finished?

Have I finally completed one full-length fanfiction?

Yes, yes I have.

I really hope you all enjoyed this story! I’ve worked for a while on it and always found inspiration from you guys! The feedback you’ve given has truly brought me a lot of happiness. I have a bit of an epilogue in the works for this story. If you want to read it, let’s get the total number of notes for Caffeinic to 2000! At the time of posting this, the total was at 1004. We can do it! I may or may not crack before we get there, but I urge you to hit this goal with me. As always, if you enjoyed, please drop a like, comment, and/or reblog to show your friends this story! Thank you all so much for reading!

* DISCLAIMER: I do not own any gifs/photos used in this post. I do own the written content. Do NOT repost/edit. *

🏷 @punk-pan-bih-yeets-thru-life • @hoshithehamster • @woo-for-woojin • @deceased-pumpkin-babe • @ethereal-chanracha • @midnatwlp • @joohowdy • @ckyunwon • @yeollliee • @aquietkerfuffle • @royalhvangs

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canadiankazz · 5 years

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A thing about some of Jasper’s actions in Season 3 of LA by Night

To start with, I want to say that yes, Jasper is my favourite character. I do not view him with rose-coloured glasses though. He is a very deeply flawed character and he has done a lot of things that are NOT in any way good or okay. I also want to say that I am not an authority on Jasper. Alex Ward is, and perhaps Jason Carl. I’m just coming at this with my 30+ fics that I’ve written with Jasper in them, as well as countless hours of writing IC as him that will never be published. I take being in character with my writing very seriously, so I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about things Jasper would and wouldn't do, and how he thinks and feels. So... all that said, here are my thoughts:

Yes, he’s done Chloe dirty. She didn’t deserve any of the crap she’s received. I think Jasper needs to have another conversation with her in the near future. Though he needs to do this, unless X and Annabelle make him, I don’t think he will.

I don’t think he wants to be with Chloe any more. Masquerade or not, Eva or not, though part of him will always love Chloe, I don’t think Jasper wants to be in a relationship with her any more. I think he looks at her, or thinks about her, and there’s only pain and regret there. He regrets leaving her that note. He underestimated how much she missed him. He did not realise she would recognise his handwriting. (That was a very good dice roll Jason did on Chloe’s behalf.) He dragged her down into his world. I think he took a massive humanity hit when she became a ghoul. Anyone notice he’s been a little rougher since then? He sees Chloe as his past - a past he cannot return to and he’s a fool for thinking he can. So now, he’s trying to push Chloe away. Yes, he’s going about it in the worst way, by avoiding her and trying to ignore her, but with low humanity comes a severe penalty in interacting with humans. He’s too monstrous. This is not a good thing, and one not easily fixed. It MIGHT be, with effort, if that’s the direction they decide to go with for his character.

I think that Jasper might find the thought of facing Chloe again, knowing how he’s fucked things up, to be too difficult. Boo-hoo, he should do it anyway, yes. Yes, he should. To be fair, he did also spend a long time this season either in torpor, or in the nights immediately afterwards recovering from it. They’ve been rather busy. Yes, he should have done it during the month long down time between Season 2 and 3, bet then everyone would complain about it being off-screen.

On to his feeding. Remember with Tara, he was outraged that they would even consider the possibility that he had captured her and embraced her? Fast forward a few months, and we find out that since then, that’s exactly what he’s been doing. He’s been hunting down criminals - murders, rapists, etc and either embracing them to be fed on later, or feeding them to those whom he has already embraced. What’s changed?

His humanity.

The humanity drop from what happened to his touchstone, as well as killing a few innocent mortals, has suddenly meant that he can justify in his head embracing someone so long as A) that person was evil to begin with and B) they remain imprisoned in his sanctum and he eventually kills them after feeding from them for a while.

This is not a good thing. No one in his coterie approves of this, though I think they can also see that he has had little choice otherwise. Jasper is very reluctant to feed from the coterie. Part of this is to avoid blood bonding. Part of it is also probably the fact that for plot purposes, he has to keep working with these Kindred night after night. The Kiss is a deeply intimate thing. That’s a step too far for him in regards to his relationship with Victor, Nelli and Annabelle. Hell, the only reason why he fed from Eva was because she put her wrist into his mouth while he was paralysed.

So, assuming that Abrams is wary to give Jasper more prisoners, what’s Jasper’s only other option?

It’s not a good thing or a nice thing. It’s a monstrous thing and Jasper is a monster. I don’t think I’m alone in hoping that, perhaps with Eva’s help, he will find a better way to feed. The thought of someone volunteering themselves to him to be fed from is practically a foreign concept. It’s going to take him a while to say ‘yes’ to them for that. He is justifiably afraid that he’ll hurt them.

Jasper has a deep, deep sense of self-loathing. I’m not saying that excuses anything, but I am saying that explains some of his personality. He was surprised anyone put in the effort to save him from the Camarilla, let alone the sacrifices they made. Again, I’m not saying that excuses any of his bad decisions, but his self-destruction has certainly fulled some of them. Like “they see me as a monster, and so a monster I shall become.”

(Edit to add: Also, I think that him being mean and rude to Chloe is his way of telling her “stay away from me or you will be hurt.” Yes, it’s a shitty way to say that, but as I said above, dealing with humans is not easy for him. I think that mechanically with the humanity drop and the Nosferatu curse he’s at 3-4 dice penalty for interacting with humans.)

He can change, and he should be held as accountable for his sins as the others have been for theirs. I hope he does change and is held accountable, but we’ll never know if they don’t announce a season 4.

In the meantime, I think we should channel our disapproval and frustration into fanworks. Many a fantastic fanfic has been written because canon has not gone in a favourable direction. Do a fic or a comic or a drawing of Annabelle scolding him for what he did to Chloe. Do fanworks of him having to pay for his crimes. If the show won’t do it, then we have to! It might not help with our frustration over the characters’ canon actions, but then again... maybe it will.

That’s all I have to say for now.

People can reply to this, and reblog it of course, but I don’t really want to argue with or debate with people. I’ve done a fair bit of that on discord and I’m exhausted. I know some will disagree with me. Can’t please everyone and some will be salty no matter what anyone says to them.

But well... there are my 10 cents. Be good and nice to each other, vamily.

#la by night #l.a. by night #labynight #i have a lot of feelings and a lot to say about jasper

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ikesencrypticcupid · 5 years

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All The (Very Few) Stars in the Sky

By @destinedatmidnight For @agirlandanotome (no ratings, suitable for everyone)

Hello, hello! I hope you’ll like this sweet modern fic with everyone’s favourite time travelling ninja-astrophysicist, Sasuke! (¬□_□)> ~ Enjoy <3

Readjusting to modern life wasn’t that difficult when I had only been gone for three months, but for Sasuke who had arrived four years before I did, it had been difficult. Not just in the sense that he hadn’t had ice cream for years, but all the ninja training, battles, war strategies, and all the other things one experiences as part of life in the Sengoku Era, had taken their toll.

Sasuke and I were both from this time, but we talked for the first time 500 years in the past. It was there that we became fast friends, courtesy of the one loose panel in my room’s ceiling. It was because of Sasuke that the past didn’t seem nearly as daunting as it would have been. It was because of Sasuke that I was able to adjust, have the occasional fun moments and just keep my sanity in general.

And now the situation was reversed.

Sasuke didn’t have anyone to help him when he had arrived, and when he wasn’t being chased by his own lord with a sword training, he had been searching for me. For four years he looked for me, and when he found me he did everything he could to make things easy for me.

It was hard for him to come back to the future after his ordeal. He didn’t show it, but the flashy LED lights were just a bit too bright for his candle-adjusted eyes, the city a little too busy compared to what he was now used to. So I decided there and then, even if he hadn’t said anything to me, that I would help him, however I could.

So in the two months since we had been back, we met often. Today was one such day. This time we were meeting somewhere after work, but when I got out of my building I saw Sasuke standing there instead. I think he looked sheepish, although his expression wasn’t all too different, as I jogged up to him with a smile.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke before I got a chance to, but I shook my head lest he say anything else and began walking without direction.

“It’s fine Sasuke, I’m glad to see you,” and it was the truth. With all the time we had spent together, Sasuke had become a dear friend, one that I treasured and found myself thanking the wormhole for frequently. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that as time moved on I found my feelings for him getting stronger. There were some moments where I got the impression that he felt the same-

“Me too, I was very much looking forward to our meeting today. I decided to save you the trip and came to you directly…”

-times like this, but he never took it any further than a sweet remark here or there and I found myself wanting more with everyone.

I looked over at him. We were walking close to each other in the crowd but he had averted his eyes after his last comment, as if embarrassed. I smiled at him, “thank you,” I spoke sincerely, knowing that more words weren’t needed. The slight curve of his lips showed he felt the same way.

It was always like this, for some reason it felt like Sasuke and I just understood each other. Yes, he was dear to me, and I couldn’t help wondering if I was anything like that to him. I had tried to bring it up before, albeit very subtly, but no joy. ‘Today,’ I thought to myself, ‘I’ll ask him properly today.’

We continued walking, strolling into a remarkably less busy park, a few stars twinkling above. “They were much brighter back then,” he remarked, following my gaze.

“True, but then again everything here is much better lit than anything back then, I mean, we can see the whole city clearly even at night.”

My words struck a chord with him; he slowed down to stop, staring at me. “Yes… you’re right,” there, a gentle smile on his face. Stepping closer to me, he gazed intently into my eyes. “Thank you, I don’t think I say it enough, but I am grateful, for everything you’ve done for me. Your words, your way of seeing things, they all help me.”

This time it was my turn to get embarrassed, “I haven’t done that much, really, but I’m glad to hear you’re happy with me.”

‘Happy with me,’ I had said the words, but was that the way he saw it too?

Sasuke nodded and carried on walking, his hand momentarily brushing against mine as he did. “I am, I’m glad we became BFFs.”

I breathed a sigh of relief Finally paying attention to my surroundings, and not him, I realised that we were in a simple flower garden of sorts. “Any particular reason we’re here today, Sasuke?”

“Well,” he shrugged his shoulders slightly, “not really, unless you count me thinking that you would like it here as a ‘particular reason.’” We had stopped again, and under the gentle lighting, surrounded by colourful petals, I finally started the conversation I had been wanting to have for a long time.

“Sasuke, do you remember that warning you gave to me when I first got to the Sengoku era? About not falling in love with anyone?”

He immediately understood what I was getting at, looking at me with interest in his expression. Except there was something else there, flickering behind his calm.

“Well, I did.” I was trembling slightly, watching his face for any indication that he didn’t want to hear what I was about to say. And for a moment I thought I saw it, the apprehension in his eyes. Except it wasn’t one of disgust, but something else: fear, and maybe even jealousy? That alone was enough to spur me on.

“Sasuke, since the beginning you had been there for me, right by my side supporting me and helping me with anything I needed.” I swallowed my own fear, speaking from my heart, “I’m really glad we became BFFs too Sasuke, but, I’m afraid, for me at least, it’s more than that.”

I suddenly found that I couldn’t carry on, biting my bottom lip. I needed to know if he was really ready to hear me. I searched his face for an answer but couldn’t really find what I was looking for.

Then Sasuke was stepping closer to me, slowly taking my hand in his. Hope, adoration, excitement, all of them and more ran between our bodies. The look he was giving me, eyes wide and encouraging all gave me the courage I needed to continue.

“I… I love you, Sasuke. Actually, I have for a while now, I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same way…”

Suddenly both of my hands were clasped, his warmth seeping into me, and my vision was suddenly filled with him, as he bought his forehead to connect with mine.

“Me too,” he whispered the words, breath coming out in a rush. “All the stars in our sky couldn’t hold a candle to you, your wonderful personality, your radiating beauty; you glow brighter than anything else.”

Smiling, our happiness combined and overflowed around us, I couldn’t help but joke, “but there are only a few stars in our sky now, Sasuke, most hidden because of the city lights. That isn’t a lot of competition.” I was barely able to contain my bliss: he loved me back, really and truly.

He cupped my cheek with a hand, “and even with bright lights around us, you still shine through it all. You see, my eyes only see you, the probability of me ever looking elsewhere is lower than negligible.”

Unable to stop the tears, and wrapped my arms around him, the sounds of people living their own lives faded into the distance. “I never even realised-” I began, not knowing how to put my thoughts into words.

“For so long,” he reassured me, “I can’t remember when I started to feel the way I did, all I knew was that there was an increasing need to be around you, to see you, to touch and hold you…

“I hope my words aren’t bothering you,” his nervous expression and sudden worry made me laugh softly. “It seems that the longer you try to contain something, the stronger it is when it's finally addressed.”

“Trust me, I know how you feel,” I couldn’t resist reaching up to brush away the hair resting against his forehead. “I’m so happy you feel the same way, Sasuke.”

“More than all the stars in the sky,” he murmured, holding me close. Time continued to move on everywhere else, but right in that moment it felt like it froze on us, as if even time itself wanted to keep this moment as an everlasting one…

I really hope you like this fic~ Simple but sweet? Thank you again @ikesencrypticcupid for this opportunity!

Do not repost/re-upload, screenshot or edit but please do like, reblog and share :D

- Widzz

#ikesen sasuke #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesenCC19 #submission

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bills-pokedex · 5 years

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Pokémon Ask Blogs: A Guide

{Also, on the back of the “don’t send in fetishy stuff” post, allow me to offer up a few tips on creating your own Pokémon Expert Ask Blog. Yes, there’s a story behind why this is related to the “don’t send in fetishy stuff” post. Tl;dr, don’t powergame, kids.

Aaaaaanyway, so you want to make your own Pokémon Expert Ask Blog! Starting up might sound like it’ll be a daunting task, but it’s pretty easy once you get the basics down.

Tip #1: Start Writing, and Do It Persistently

The granddaddy of all rules when it comes to text-based blogs: ya need content. Like, a lot of it. Tumblr’s always worked against authors, no matter what field you’re in. It’s just a natural fact of life that text posts get fewer notes and less attention than photos or art, so in order to gain traction, you’re going to have to be super-consistent and super-persistent with what you’re doing. And don’t worry about writing a mini novel or anything; a lot of blogs get along just fine with only a short paragraph or two per post.

You will not have a crapton of notes on every post when you start out, and sometimes, it can take months before you get anywhere. To give you an idea, I really don’t think this blog gained traction until about six months to a year in. (Granted, some people have gotten traction faster, but remember: those people aren’t everyone. And also, don’t compare your numbers to the numbers other people pull in. That’s a good way to burn yourself out.)

Finally, queues. Whenever possible, queue content. For example, if you know you’re going to have a lot of free time on a Sunday, consider writing up multiple posts and putting them all in queue so you’ll have something for Monday onwards.

Tip #2: Tags Are a Blogger’s Best Friend

Remember: the first five tags on your post are the tags your post will show up under, so use that to your advantage. Tag your post with the pokémon that you’re focusing on, as well as well-traveled tags like “pokemon headcanons.” The pokémon is especially important because you’ll be surprised how many fans every single one has, and some folks are dying for content, seriously.

You will, without a doubt, pull most of your readers through tags when you first start to gain traction. Yes, even more so than relying on your mutuals or sending your OC off to interact with others. Sure, the latter of those two sources can help, but there’s simply a bigger market out in the tag cloud.

Tip #3: Google Is Also a Blogger’s Best Friend

So you want to play a professor or pokémon expert, but you’re a college student who’s not even majoring in a science to begin with. No problem! You can 100% fudge it with the power of Google! Research everything��you don’t know to the best of your ability.

A few protips on this, by the by:

* Academic websites and papers are usually the most reliable, and they’re not as intimidating to read as one might think. This is followed by news websites, of course, but be careful about which news website. BBC, CNN, local news stations, local papers = yes; Clearly Right Wing Term News = no.

* Don’t be afraid of zoo websites, government websites, well-funded organization websites (except PETA probably), magazines, and blogs run by vets or animal experts, either. (Yes, even if the latter sometimes look like they still think it’s 2006.)

* Contrary to what high school teachers might have you believe, Wikipedia’s science articles are actually pretty solid. No one wants to vandalize the wiki entry for an extinct marmoset, but you know who is editing that? Experts who want to talk about extinct marmosets. Also, most articles on the stuff you’ll probably need to put together an answer will have a mountain of sources to verify that, yes, everything on that page is by and large accurate.

Tip #4: It’s Okay to Fudge It

When in doubt, fudge it. As in, be creative with your science! It’s your blog, so do what you want! And anyway, this is a universe where a toddler-sized rodent can generate thousands of volts of electricity, so why should anyone stop you? (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Just remember to keep your canon straight. Nothing’s more awkward than accidentally retconning stuff.

Still, word of caution about this: while the majority of your readers might not know the difference, some do, and if you’re writing a pokémon expert blog, you will probably end up getting mansplained to. It’s best to just roll with it or find creative ways to incorporate those corrections into your work. If all else fails ... limit who can reply to your posts.

Tip #5: Don’t Be a Dick

Soooooo ... powergaming.

To put it in short, that’s the act of deciding for other RPers what their actions will be—or, in a sense, playing their characters. With ask/headcanon blogs, it’s a little fuzzier what that would mean because ask/headcanon blogs feature a character talking about their entire world, but usually, it means deciding for someone else what is and isn’t canon to their blog—or, in other words, sending in-character asks that contradict explicit canon of another player’s blog or that would otherwise not fit with the way that player has designed their universe. A lot of players will let this slide, but it’s still really hella awkward to suddenly be face-to-face with a character who's asking about something that’s technically impossible for your world.

But more importantly, let’s talk about advertising. Do not use someone else’s blog to advertise yours, especially if you’re powergaming to do it. That’s kinda not cool.

Or to clarify, it’s okay to send in-character asks. That’s perfectly fine so long as you’ve read up on the canon you’re about to send or so long as you send the player a message, asking if it’s cool first. It is also okay to send in an ask to the effect of, ��Hey, I just started this blog; could you promo me?” or a message to the effect of, “Hey, I have this idea; can we RP it between our characters?” The first instance involves you going out of your way to fit into the player’s universe, which then ensures that they have control over the content that they’re posting to their own blog. The second instance involves you actually going out and seeking permission to co-create content with the other player.

What is not okay is violating a blog’s canon or a player’s boundaries.

So for example, let’s say that Bill posts something like, “Komala eat coconuts.” It’s not okay to have your character go into that post, reblog or reply to it, and say, “Well, actually, komala hate coconuts, and here is a story involving my character that illustrates how this komala they know dislikes coconuts.” This is basically taking control of what is and isn’t canon according to Bill’s player.

Likewise, while it’s probably okay to send in an ask to the effect of, “Komala eat coconuts; I know this because I have a story about komala” (although please ask first or otherwise check to make sure it’s not violating canon first!), if Bill says, “No, actually, they really don’t like coconuts,” then it’s canon in that universe that komala do not like coconuts. If you really want komala to like coconuts in this case, please make a post to your own blog about it. Do not reblog Bill’s answer.

Ultimately, what it comes down to is this: a player has the last say in what is and isn’t canon on their own askblog. Period. Underlined.

Tip #6: Yes, You CAN Roleplay with Yourself

It’s also worth it to note that not every blog has to start out directly RPing with another blog. Yes, you can write independently! Granted, yes, not everyone wants to, but my point is that if your first post can just be you posting your own thoughts on the way the Pokémon world works. That and not everyone interacts with other blogs all the time. In fact, this blog got its start just making shitposts in the guise of pokédex entries not because I really wanted to RP but instead because I was trying to make myself laugh by posting as Bill. And for the most part, it’s still that; because the canon is so different compared to fanon and because this is a sideblog, I don’t really send Bill or Lanette out to interact with other people unless someone tags this blog in something.

That isn’t to say I’m not open to it or that everyone has to be like me; it’s more saying that it’s okay if all you do at first is construct a story for yourself on your own blog. If your character and the world they live in is interesting to the rest of the fandom, people absolutely will stop by because people either love hearing about their favorite pokémon, or they love hearing about how this one scenario they’ve thought up will play out in someone else’s world. So don’t sweat it if you find yourself talking to the void for a long period of time.

If anything, consider it freedom because in space, no one can hear you yeeting actual canon out the window.

Tip #7: Yeet That Canon

Final tip: The more you think about Pokémon canon the less it makes sense. It’s just ... it’s just like that. So yes, it’s okay to treat canon like some sort of all-you-can eat buffet where no one’s going to judge you for putting the hot fudge sundae toppings on a slice of pizza. Pick and choose whatever canon you want or disregard it all. Take your blog and run with it. Eat that pizza with hot fudge sundae toppings, you absolute animal.

And most of all, best of luck!}

#from the mun #long post #pokemon ask blog #professor ask blog

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themagiciansreccenter · 6 years

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Author Spotlight @echomoon

Every week we are going to be interviewing a writer from The Magicians fandom. If you would like to be interviewed or you want to nominate a writer, get in touch via our ask box.

First things first, tell us a little about yourself.

what up im jared, im 19 and i never learned how to fuckign read. JK my name is Theo and I super know how to read. Most of the time. Also I’m 22. Anyway I’m one of the more OG members of the Magicians fandom, having been here since back in the early days of early s1. Uhhh I’m nonbinary and hella queer. Metafic is my most favorite thing in the world other than puppies. I cry at least once a day. I have adhd and depression and chronic pain and hella other issues. I’m an anthropology major, in my third year. I’m a slytherin, an illusions discipline, and a pisces.

How long have you been writing for?

Since I learned how, basically, but I only really started posting things online because of the Magicians and also because of Twilight?

What inspired you to start writing for The Magicians?

It’s the BEST and I find it very easy to write from Quentin’s pov which means I actually finish things sometimes lol.

Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write? What it is about them that makes them your favourite?

Quentin, because he is essentially me if I was born as a cisdude except more repressed in terms of sexuality and also more wealthy, which makes him super easy to write and super easy to get ideas about. I also like Penny, because for some reason people think I’m good at writing him?

Do you have a preference for a particular season/point in time to write about?

I write a lot set in the Brakebills years because I like the whole magic school thing and the exploration of magic and interpersonal relationships without having to deal with the Beast or other threats trying to destroy everything they know and love? Like I like that slow burn, spread out, things are happening but they’re happening slowly and also heres some meta about magic kind of exploration that that time gives me the opportunity to do. I think this is partially influenced by that the first book has them in that setting so much longer, and partially because I’m still doing the whole college thing myself and find that easiest to relate to (because no one really wants to read ‘Quentin working two part time jobs and struggling to survive and nothing else happens’ unless it’s just a tiny segment of the fic lmao).

Are you working on anything right now? Care to give us an idea about it?

Well, in regards to Magicians fic, I’m still trudging along on chapter two of Magician’s Path - I’m trying to introduce more of Julia’s side of the story as well as working on how to warp the two canons into each other while also making the storyline unique - and also on the next part of crazy/classic/life, my paradise kiss and magicians crossover au. I’m also trying to find the time to record more podfic of my fics, because I think its important to have audiofic available. But nothing new, just continuations.

As for other fandoms, I’m working on a HELLA long reworking of the Descendants universe (hi i love disney channel movies dont judge), and that’s my primary focus right now in terms of fic.

How long is your “to do list”?

Very

What is your favourite fic that you’ve written for The Magicians? Why?

Oh heck, um… probably either all tied up or The Magician’s Path. all tied up was my first time writing PiV smut and also writing shadeless!Julia and I’m just really proud of it? And TMP is like, my baby, my huge multichapter canon reworking that I’m putting so much planning into and I’m always so excited to talk about it. I know it doesn’t seem like much yet but y’all I have so many plans for it and I hope you end up loving it as much as I do.

Many writers have a fic that they are passionate about that doesn’t get the reception from the fandom that they hoped for. Do you have a fic you would like more people to read and appreciate?

TMP for sure - I hope that when I’m done more people give it a try.

What is your writing process like? Do you have any traditions or superstitions that you like to stick to when you’re writing?

Ha my writing process is either ‘has no ideas for months straight and then suddenly idea when I’m supposed to be doing something else but I gotta write this down!!!’ or ‘one sentence every month at most’. Now that the FTB server has gotten bigger, I’ve found some people who will proofread for me, so there’s that editing process afterwards (thanks @oneeyeddestroyer for being the best beta).

I guess my only superstition is that if I’m doing a multichapter or big work I try not to give too much detail out when I talk about it because I get worried that saying about the plot too much will make me lose interest in it.

Do you write while the seasons are airing or do you prefer to wait for hiatus? How does the ongoing development of the canon influence and inspire your writing process?

I do tend to write more when the show is airing, because more people are engaged and it’s something to fill the void between episodes - during hiatus I tend to drift away a bit and focus on other fandoms. This is the first show thats been so all consuming for me, I don’t usually watch things while they air because I tend to forget about remembering to watch them after a week or so? But Magicians keeps pulling me back and keeping me in.

As for ongoing canon developments, it really depends on the thing. If it fits into my plot of it’s a detail I want to put in, I might, but otherwise I’m comfortable lifting what I want from canon and throwing the rest out for a fic - we follow a show with canon multiverses, we can do what we want lmao.

What has been the most challenging fic for you to write?

Honestly, most of my fics? Because I try to improve every time I write and like, explore new things. So whatever I’m working on at the time is the most challenging.

Are there any themes or tropes that you particularly like to explore in your writing?

EVERYONE BEING HAPPY AND NOTHING BAD HAPPENING EVER cough cough I mean, um. I like meta, I like worldbuilding and exploring meta and seeing what I can change. I keep accidentally writing soulmate fics? So that’s a trend I guess.

Are there any writers that inspire your work? Fanfiction or otherwise?

Oh heck, so many dude, I don’t even know, I’m gonna just link you to my bookmarks because that’s the fic I love and probably unconsciously imitate on the often

As for nonfic, like I def want to write like Marisha Pessl or Tamora Pierce or Donna Tartt or Lev Grossman or Mark Z Danielewski but more in his house of leaves phase than his current stuff tbh or Neil Gaiman and also like. Everything that you read or watch or experience makes up how you see the world and how you create what you create and I consume so much stuff I can’t even begin to guess my influences beyond the little tidbits that I keep in my bookmarks or on my shelves.

What are you currently reading? Fanfiction or otherwise?

Currently I’m reading a lot of harry potter fic - the mood is the department of mysteries or other exploration of magic, so things related to that. HP fic is my go to when I’m not revving for any fandom in particular. Nonfic, I’m working my way through Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, which is hella fucking good, as well as a bajillion textbooks.

What is the most valuable piece of writing advice you’ve ever been given?

Fuck canon do what you want

Cringe time:

Are there any words or phrases you worry about over using in your work?

Yes but now that you ask can I remember any? Nope.

What was the first fanfic that you wrote? Do you still have access to it?

Oh shit dude I don’t even know. The earliest one I can remember was this like, post twilight self insert fic where the cullens came to my middle school for some reason? I barely finished the intro of it iirc but it might still be in my stack of papers in my old room somewhere.

Rapid Fire Round:

Self-edit or Beta? Beta (always get a beta kids! They’re worth their weight in gold)

Comments or Kudos/Reblogs or Likes? Comments!! (please, leave me comments, i live for them)

Smut, Fluff or Angst? fluff

Quick & Dirty or Slow Burn? Slow burn

Favourite season? All?????? Dont make me choose

Favourite episode? Im stuck between life in a day or all that josh

Favourite book(The Magicians books)? Probably book 2, i love seeing julia’s side of things and exploring hedge magic

Three favourite words? BUTTS, lore, hearth

Want to be interviewed for our author spotlight? Get in touch here.

#the magicians rec center #author spotlight #author spotlight: echomoon

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