#i can't let things sit in the drafts once they're finished

[bettsfic]

I feel like you've answered something similar ao sorry if it's repetitive!! Do you usually work with, like "bolt from the blue" ideas, or do you sit and plan something out? As in, thinking up a story to write and laying the groundwork etc.?

I ask because I usually have a sudden idea, more or less formed, but I always run out of steam with them. I'm passionate about them but they're easily "damaged" in a sense, and fall apart eventually. I haven't had an idea like that in maybe 4 years. Recently I sat down and actively tried to come up with a story from scratch. It feels less passionate and exciting and I hope that stuff comes later once the basics are mapped.

I was wondering what your personal experience with starting out is, and your perspective! Ty 💗

well i used to be able to have an okay idea, sit down and write it, and be decently happy with it. but as i've improved as a writer, it goes more like: find a vibe, write a meandering 10k to figure out the story the vibe conjures, rewrite it knowing that story, and go from there. the benefit of this is that i end up being very happy with the final product rather than decently happy, and it also makes revision easier because it becomes easier to see a piece's true potential. the drawback is that everything takes a million years to write.

here's an example:

the other night i couldn't sleep. i ended up staring at my ceiling for 4 hours thinking about a one piece fic idea. it came to me fully formed, like i knew how it started, how it ended, and more or less how to get there. it would be a one-shot, maybe 8k. was it a good idea? no. did i start writing it anyway? yes.

i also had another idea, far more amorphous. in fact all i had was a single image and i was trying to figure out what story could be told around that image (this is how i finished my novel recently too, except the image i had in my head didn't end up making it to the final draft at all, but that's how it be sometimes). no matter how hard i thought about it, no story developed. so i started writing it anyway just to see what would happen. i was seeking just a general feeling of a character's intense yearning and self-loathing; i was curious about how he would develop in this specific AU.

i have about 6k of both fics. the first one did what you mentioned: i got to a certain point and lost steam. if i put my mind to it, i could barrel through and finish it, but i'll probably never be super happy with it. in other words, it'll get the job done, but the job itself is not very good.

the second one is just a pile of random thoughts completely unstructured, but it has legs. the former can't be revised to be better than what it is, because i set the ambition too early. the second one can become something really cool, but that requires me to follow it until an actual story arises, and when that happens i'll have to go back and rewrite it knowing what the story is. it'll take longer, but it'll be better for it. it might be a small thing that sparks a much larger thing down the line.

there's nothing wrong with the first method. i wrote and published a number of stories by knowing what the thing was before i began writing. but the second method is more fulfilling and keeps me engaged for longer.

so i guess what i'm saying is, maybe know less about what you want to write. let yourself draft to explore. don't be afraid of rewriting. pay attention to the paragraphs and sentences you really like, because even if they don't make sense now, you'll find a place for them later.

if you want more concrete advice, i talk more about drafting and setting ambition in an issue of my newsletter.

#writing advice #process #setting ambition

[the-lunar-library]

I wish I could read my books.

Right now I'm on the fourth draft of the Next Book, which I love -- so far, it's my favorite thing I've ever written. At this stage, despite the work of editing, reading it is very much a pleasure to me.

Going by history, that won't always be the case.

Part of the process of editing, for me at least, is getting fed up with reading and rereading the same words. That's not what I'm talking about. That's a passing thing, temporary.

What I've found, having published the first two books, is that I can't pick them up in their lovely book forms with their pretty covers and their nice formatting and all of that and sit down and read them. As books, not manuscripts.

Which is sad, because I feel like that was part of the fantasy pre-publishing -- here's my book, finished, I get to relax and read it the same way I relax and read other people's books. But I haven't even attempted that. Even the idea of it just drives that hope of relaxing right out of me.

Rereading the manuscript? Relaxing. Rereading my fanfics once they're posted on AO3? Relaxing. Rereading my published book? Not a chance, move along, brain, it's time to think about something else.

I'm guessing as to why, but I think it's two factors.

The first is that the books are more personal to me than the fanfics. This isn't a judgment on quality or work involved, but just how personal the story is to me. I think detaching is often a big part of relaxing, escapism, so the books' intimacy with me makes that harder.

The second, and maybe the bigger thing, is the feeling of permanence. The manuscript is, by definition, something I can still change. A fic on AO3 can be edited in less than a minute if there's something I need to change, and it's not a big deal.

But a published book? Granted, I'm self-published. It's still possible to edit one of my books, though it would involve a lot more steps -- it's not a matter of opening one file and making a change and pressing Post.

But by the time a book is published, I've finalized characters and arcs I've been working on for years, I've formatted everything, I've bought the ISBN and slapped it in place. Can edits still be made? Yes. It is in the realm of things that can be done. If the edit is small enough, the ISBN can still be preserved. Maybe I won't need to reformat the cover. I will have to adjust the manuscript again. But.

But by the time I publish, my brain is telling me the book is done. It's not going back. It's not being changed.

To me, it's very important that once a book is done, it's done. I'm free to move on to the next project. I'm not just allowed to let go, I'm supposed to.

And I think it's that feeling that I'm no longer creating the book, I'm not "fixing" anything anymore -- I'm no longer in control of the book? -- that makes it hard for me to just sit back and enjoy the end product.

I hope so much that other people can kick back and enjoy my books the way I kick back and enjoy other people's books. Even if I never have the opportunity to read my books like that, I would still want to write them. Writing them means so much to me.

But I do hope that, some day, years down the line when these books no longer feel so close to me, I can kick back and relax with them too.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #self-publishing #publishing #indieauthor #the next book

[loquaciousquark]

One thing that I really appreciate about your fic is that you always have the whole thing prewritten and then you post on a regular schedule until the whole thing is out there. What made you decide to do it that way rather than post as you write? I'm currently once again waffling on just posting as I write or finishing my whole thing and then posting and it's driving me nuts!

Ahh, I'm still reeling from your lovely art! Let me try to compose myself and also try to get through the haze of cough syrup. There are four (and a half) main reasons I always finish my stuff before I start posting. I keep trying to qualify this post by saying they're personal reasons developed over many years and I don't know if they'll mean anything for anyone else, but I'm just dithering at this point, so let's get to it.

The biggest reason by far is that the pressure of knowing someone is waiting for me to write the next part is AWFUL. It's petrifying, honestly. I've only ever posted two fics as I wrote them, River Stone on the kinkmeme way back in whenever (like 2013 I think?), and Metamorphose for Thanzag last year (a three-parter with over a year between parts 2 and 3). I tried it again with Metamorphose because I thought, oh, it's been ten years since I last did this, surely I can now handle posting before finishing--NOPE. AWFUL. Every comment looking for the next part was like a little inquisitive set of eyes peering over my shoulder, and any free hobby time I spent doing other things I felt guilty about for months. Plus, I'm not quite satisfied with that last chapter even now, but the pressure of needing to get it done was stronger than my desire to hone. I hate having that pressure compromise my standards, and I won't be doing it again anytime soon. Plus, I get so much joy out of comments when I do it the other way--writing everything first and knowing that pressure to finish is gone--that the tradeoff of no comments during the writing process is beyond worth it to me. That's the selfish aspect of how I post; I want to be able to just marinate in the reactions without the pressure of trying to figure out what comes next. Yeah, this sometimes means I spend a metric ton of time writing stuff that then doesn't get a lot of feedback once I finally start posting. Ah, well, them's the breaks. I'm familiar enough by now with my creative juices that I know the next fic is just around the corner. .

I'm such a constructionist in my fics, heavily leaning on my outlines for the overall structure and framework, that I spend a lot of time after the first completed draft trying to really polish up themes, characterization, and plot from start to finish. On I think almost every major longfic I've ever written, @jadesabre301 has pointed out a serious gaping hole that needed immediate revision (occasionally very major revision) in order to get the fic to the quality I wanted it to be. I can't go back and add early scenes and theme/imagery reinforcement in chapters already posted, and if I want to make the piece as polished as possible, I need that editing freedom and flexibility. (And she needs to be able to see the whole structure of the piece to find those flaws.) Plus, if I don't force myself to write the interstitial or difficult scenes, I could very easily see myself stalling out after hitting the highlight scenes I'm excited about, and then that'd be the end of the progress. I got stuck in one place in Spire for like eight months before Jade pushed me through it, and if I'd been posting concurrently with that writing stall, I think I would have been miserable. .

I have a high tolerance for sitting down and really focusing on one project for hours at a time, and I have a job and lifestyle that allow that every now and then. I don't have kids, I have a career I'm very well established in (giving me some clear work/life boundaries and seasons when I know I'll be busy and when I know I'll have time to be creative), and I structure my free time in those periods in ways where I can write without interruption. I don't really need external impetus or praise to keep me going (in fact, as mentioned, it often makes me feel worse), so having that dedicated time lets me really sink my teeth into my projects, which makes it so much easier to reach my target goals. I also find completing and closing projects immensely personally satisfying, which helps drive that momentum during the more difficult parts of the process. .

It's important to me to finish my projects so that the stories are complete for the readers. Not just because I grew up on abandoned WIPs in the fandoms I cut my teeth on (Sailor Moon, Inuyasha, Harry Potter), either. I remember a particular author in the Inuyasha fandom named Rozefire who wrote what felt like dozens of incredible AUs that I followed religiously for years. However, she never finished more than...memory says a handful of them? And every header at the top of the new fic would talk about how she was still working on the previous one, but after several months I realized that as soon as that new fic went up, the previous one would never see another chapter. I still loved everything she wrote and I still devoured every word, but there were several things I desperately wanted to see completed, and I have so many dusty memories of sifting through those fics for updates every few weeks, pining for any little crumb, haha. I'm able to complete my projects and it's important to me to do so for the sake of any readers, so it's something I make a priority when I write. .

(really 4.5) Not finishing my projects makes me mentally unhappy. It doesn't destroy my mood or anything, but it becomes a persistent itch that poisons all my other hobbies, even if there aren't any comments looking forward to the next chapter. In some ways the ending of that de-aging Fenris/Hawke fic I wrote a million years ago where the story demands a conclusion was a veritable autobiography. There's a reason that of my, uh...63 works on AO3, the only ones not fully completed are the two WIPs I'm currently posting (which are completely written) and the two oneshot/ficlet collections. Those collections have been lifesavers as well in that they are homes for my little orphan ficlets, which also pleases the ruthless organizer part of my brain. I don't like clutter; I don't like tangled wires; I don't like untucked sheets or piles of abandoned craft projects or rooms of untamed chaos. I look at a lot of those cozy little cottagecore aesthetic posts and I honestly just want to straighten everything to right angles and buy them coasters and set up bookshelves so they can clean up the space. I used to organize my parents' VHS collection every summer--we had a spreadsheet with titles and reference numbers that went into the 500s. Finishing fics fits into the same space in my head; when they're finally done I can at last put the lid on the box and put it labelled neatly on the rack with all the rest of the boxes and I can mentally release it from my list of things to think about on the daily. (Which is, incidentally, the main reason I only work on one project at a time; too many open and cluttered boxes = a very unhappy me.)

Anyway! This was a very long answer about a very personal process, and I hope there's some part of it useful to you in some way! <3 At the end of the day, you'll have to decide your posting schedule for yourself based on the things that are important to you. There's no wrong way to do it--it's only whatever makes you happy and keeps you writing! <3<3<3

#quark replies #alta et astra #long post for ts #someone tell me if i need to cut this #i am so tired #and have been working on this reply off and on for hours #i have no idea if this hangs together in any possible way #but it's what works for me! <3 #writing: other

[wizardofahz]

Oracle Comes to National City

Fandom: Supergirl A/N: Once upon a time, I figured it’d be fun to play with the idea of Barbara Gordon coming to National City. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and there's no better time to finish it than Disability Pride Month. This is set in Supergirl season 5 and references some Birds of Prey comics.

“Hello, J’onn.”

The familiar voice has a grin breaking out across J'onn's face as he spins around on his stool.

And there in the middle of Noonan's of all places is the one and only Barbara Gordon. This particular branch is spacious enough that she was able to wheel her chair to just beside their table.

“Babs.”

J'onn rises from his chair to give Barbara a hug.

Pulling back, he turns back to the table. “Alex, Kara, this is Barbara Gordon. She’s a friend from Gotham City.”

"It's nice to meet you," Kara says with a friendly smile. Alex gives a little wave.

Barbara smiles at the Danvers. “It’s nice to meet you too. Though truthfully, you need no introduction."

J'onn wonders just how much Barbara knows about them. He has never been so naive as to assume she doesn't know about Kara being Supergirl or Alex being DEO. But still. With all the information of the world at her fingertips, how deeply has Barbara decided to dig?

Barbara must sense what he's thinking because sends him a sly smile. "J’onn talks about you both a lot.”

Well. He certainly can't refute that.

He hasn't told the Danvers much about Barbara, so he does so now. “Babs is a librarian, which among other things makes her a tremendous resource." It's an understatement if ever there was one, but there's only so much he can say in public. He turns to Barbara. "What brings you to National City? ”

"Business," Barbara says simply. "Though maybe we could talk in private?" She glances at the Danvers, so they know they're to be included.

They all agree, grabbing their coffee cups. Kara scoops up the remainder of her sticky bun, her late morning snack, in a napkin.

On the way to J’onn's office, he asks Barbara about her basketball league. The Danvers trail behind them. He doesn't hear them, but they're undoubtedly talking, asking if the other knows what's going on.

They enter as Brainy is putting on a coat, soon to be on his way out.

“Oh, good. You’re back. I am--” Brainy stops in his tracks and balks. “Oracle.”

“Brainiac-5,” Barbara greets. “Or I suppose you prefer Brainy.”

J'onn knows he's mentioned Brainy before, certainly not to the degree of Alex and Kara, but Barbara's never mentioned meeting him before.

“What are you doing here?” Brainy asks defensively, posture growing more rigid and standing a little taller. “You think I am incapable of being good without oversight.”

J'onn has no idea where this is coming from, but Barbara meets Brainy's gaze knowingly. There's clearly history here.

“I never said you couldn’t.”

“And yet you are here.”

“I’m not here because of you.”

Brainy lets out a little hmph of disbelief before turning to the others. “I am going to pick up my pizza, which I will eat... away from here.”

Kara frowns as they watch Brainy leave. “That was like watching Brainy interact with Kelex.”

Barbara sighs then explains, “Shared Coluan memories... they can make things a little messy.”

“So you’re Oracle,” Alex says, looking Barbara over as if for the first time.

Kara says, “Kate told me about you.”

Barbara’s brow furrows as she tries to put the pieces together. “Kate... Kane?”

Kara nods.

“You’ve met?”

“In another universe.”

Barbara mouths, Oh.

Confusion is not an expression J'onn is used to seeing on Barbara's face. It's good to know that even the all-seeing Oracle has limits. Speaking of Oracle and her vast empire of knowledge, J'onn figures it's a good time to talk business. “Would you like to see the Tower? We can talk up there.”

Barbara eyes the stairs leading up to the elevator. “We can talk downstairs.”

It's J'onn's turn to shoot Barbara a sly smile. “Babs, I’m a shapeshifter. Need I remind you that our technology can shapeshift as well?”

She accepts the teasing with a chagrined smile. “How foolish of me to forget.”

“Well, it’s nice to know I can still surprise you,” J'onn says as he transforms the stairs into a ramp.

After a brief tour and a brief interlude about the differences between this Tower and Barbara's own, they get down to business.

“You have a Leviathan problem,” Barbara says easily as if it's common knowledge.

“How do you know about that?” Alex asks before coloring slightly under Barbara's quirked eyebrow. “Right, you’re Oracle. You know everything. My bad.”

Barbara smiles in response before continuing, “More than that, Leviathan is a tech problem, makes it of particular interest to me.”

“Are you sure you want to get involved?” Kara asks, concerned. “Leviathan is dangerous.”

Barbara waves a dismissive hand. “J’onn knows what I like to say.” 

He does, but he'd prefer she not. “Please don’t.”

She does anyway. “Never underestimate a deathbed as an opportunity to rethink strategy.”

“Damn,” Alex says, whistling appreciatively. “That’s metal.”

“And not something you should be thinking about,” J’onn says sternly before glaring at Barbara. “Why would you say that?”

Barbara smirks. “It seemed like something they’d appreciate. Was I wrong?”

...

“I know you’re not him.”

Brainy jumps at the familiar voice, cursing under his breath.

He had avoided Oracle when possible, sequestering himself away and assuming he'd hear her coming. He would not have guessed someone in a wheelchair would be that stealthy. He underestimated her. He would not do so again.

"As do I," Brainy responds, not bothering to keep the defensive sarcasm from his voice.

"I know you have his memories. I know Coluan history. I also know that when I was shot, everyone was trying to tell me how to feel, how to move on. Even how not to move on." She runs a hand over one of her wheelchair's pushrims absentmindedly. "So I get it, maybe not exactly but... We are who we choose to be." She looks up at him, considering. “What do you think? Can we work together?”

Brainy meets her gaze and thinks, What would Kara Danvers do?

It's a question that served Brainy well in the past (in the future actually, but that was neither here nor there, or rather, neither then nor now). He considers the situation through her eyes. With their technical powers combined, they could be a formidable team.

And Oracle was right. They had a shared set of memories, albeit from opposite sides, but they could choose what to make of them. He wouldn't let them change his behavior if she wouldn't.

"I'm willing to try."

#barbara gordon #supergirl #j'onn j'onzz #brainiac 5 #querl dox #kara danvers #alex danvers #moments in the life of superfam

[starboybutler]

Don't ask, don't tell | Austin Butler x Trans Male Reader

THIS STORY IS +18. MINORS DNI.

summary: you've known austin since college. when you're hanging out one night, he asks you a question that makes you think. one thing leads to another.

word count: 4226

tws: drug use (weed), oral sex (reader receiving), talk of sexuality, very brief homophobia, the word "cunt" is used for genitals, so is the word clit, kinda sub austin? he's very submissive, overstimulation

notes: GOD this has been in my drafts FOREVER but i finally got it done. some aus x ftm reader for all of my trans men in the fandom 🫶🏽 hope you enjoy!

︶꒦ ꒷ ✦ ꒷ ꒦︶

you and austin had been good friends since college.

he was always the shyer kind of person, and you were more extroverted in your ways, but that didn't stop the two of you from getting along like peas in a pod. sure, austin would get nervous in larger crowds of people, but when it was just the two of you, he was a completely different person.

he loved to laugh and joke around, and he was a sucker for physical touch. it was how he showed affection, and you didn't mind it one bit. people often joked about the two of you being in a ‘secret gay relationship’ with each other, but neither of you let it phase you. austin knew he was straight, and you knew that despite being gay, you weren't into austin. yes, you thought he was handsome, but who wouldn't think that?

austin always joked about the gay rumors in good fun, saying things like ‘maybe we should kiss just to give them a show’, or putting his arm around you and kissing you on the cheek when people called the two of you a couple. he wasn't bothered by them, and neither were you. in fact, it was a staple in your friendship.

as you laid out on the couch, eyes lidded from the hits you’ve taken from the blunt that’s been passed between you and austin, the blonde leans his head back and stares at you curiously. you give him a hazy smile, your eyebrows raising in amusement.

“what?”

“do you think i look gay?” he asks, his eyes red and glossy.

you let out a loud laugh at the question, making him sit up from his place on the floor. he punches you in the arm, making you sit up slightly and rub at the place he hit.

“wh-what makes you ask?” you ask in between chuckles, your eyes watering from how much you're laughing. austin pouts, his cheeks going light pink as he begins to explain.

“w-well, a lot of guys look at me and call me pretty–”

“that doesn't mean that you look gay,” you say. “that means they're gay.”

“i’m not finished!” austin huffs, glaring at you. “and…i mean, girls call me pretty too– i even,” he gestures his hands towards himself, huffing. “a girl said she thought i was gay once.”

“well…my input won't help much,” you say simply, shrugging.

“why not?”

“i thought you were gay when we first met,” you admit, and austin groans loudly and hides his face in his hands.

“oh come on,” he whines, running a hand down his face. “what is it about me?”

you hum and look him over, cocking your head to the side as you think. looking at him now, he obviously looked different from when you first saw him– awkward and in one of those stupid tank tops and necklaces, but he had matured nicely. even then though, there was still something.

“if i’m being honest,” you start, sitting up slightly. “maybe it's your lips.”

austin’s face flushes, his eyes widening a little bit. “what do y’mean?”

“i mean,” you chuckle, reaching out and pinching at his pink cheek. “you have nice lips. not many straight guys do, i guess.”

“i mean,” austin grumbles, swatting your hand away. “i was born with ‘em.”

“but you take care of them too.”

“i didn't want them to crack everytime i talk!” he huffs, throwing his hands up. “what, i can't wear chapstick anymore?”

you practically cackle at his reaction, and he begins to laugh as well, the both of you punching at each other's arms in your fit of giggles.

“okay,” you gasp out in your fit of giggles. “you are thinking about this way too hard,” you chuckle, resting your hand on his shoulder. “you scared of being a homo, aus?” you tease, shaking him.

austin rolls his eyes, pushing your hand away. “ha ha. no, i’m not,” he mutters, laying his head back. “i’ve just– never thought about my sexuality like that, i guess,” he admits.

you raise your eyebrows. “you've never experimented? like in college or high school?”

“nope.” he says simply. “never really crossed my mind.”

“then go kiss a guy,” you mutter. “get your answer.”

“what, just like that?” he chuckles, slightly surprised. “it can't be that easy.”

“sure it is.” you hum, stretching out with a groan. “that's how i found out i liked men.”

austin went quiet, thinking about it for a minute. you shrugged and reached over to where you had set down your drink, and grabbed it to take a sip.

“hey, could we–,” austin starts, but quickly shuts his mouth and shakes his head. “nevermind. let's play another round of mario kart.”

“no,” you hum, leaning forward. “what's up?”

he looks away, rubbing at his wrists. “could we kiss, just real quick?” he asks quickly, his face burning. “i just– i don't wanna go ask a random guy, and you're right here, y’know.”

“sure,” you say simply, smiling. “it's not like it's a chore.”

austin sighs with relief, his face still red. “thanks,”

“don't mention it,” you hum, sinking onto the floor next to him. “so, you just wanna go for it?”

“well, yeah,” he chuckles, setting his hands on your shoulders. “you need me to take you out first?”

“normally, yes,” you joke, smiling softly. “but for my best friend? i’ll make an exception,”

austin chuckles softly, before going quiet once again. the silence is heavy in the air as austin stares at you, his breathing heavy as he tries to hype himself up– but he keeps faltering at the last second.

you fake an annoyed sigh as you bring a hand to cup his face, making him look at you. he stiffens slightly, and you sigh again, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

“relax,” you say softly. “no guy is gonna want to kiss you if you keep hesitating like that.” you joke, and he nods.

he finally starts to lean in, his hands trailing up to your neck as he does so. you suppress a shudder at the light touch, having to remind yourself that this is your friend.

your lips finally meet and austin lets out a small sigh. you hum lowly, feeling how soft his lips are against yours as you both gently caress each other's skin. god, he really did take care of his lips, they were so soft and pillowy.

he pulls away and you feel a twinge of disappointment. austin is red in the face, his eyes fixed on the ground as he wipes at his lips. he looks up at you with large eyes, smiling shyly as he speaks.

“how’d i do?”

you give a soft smile, licking your lips absentmindedly. “not bad, aus.”

“yeah?” he hums, smiling crookedly. you nod and chuckle, smiling back softly.

“yeah, i've definitely had worse kisses.”

“really?” austin asks.

“oh yeah,” you huff, waving him off. “there was this guy in middle school, he was all braces. then, my first high school boyfriend was like, two feet faller than me, so it was really awkward.”

normally, austin would be laughing at your jokes like it was the funniest thing ever uttered. but for some reason, now, he sat still, just half chuckling and squirming awkwardly as you spoke.

you paused halfway through your next story and cocked your head to the side, squinting at him. “what's the matter? you're bein’ weird,”

“oh, i’m–” he hums, like he's a thousand miles away. “just thinkin’, is all,”

you stare at him for a second, before a smirk crosses your lips. you crawl towards him playfully, your eyes narrowed. “about whaaaaat~?”

austin snaps to attention as he sees your smirk, immediately beginning to scoot back in an attempt to create distance between the two of you. “no. oh no no no,”

“what?” you ask innocently, smiling. “i'm just asking a question…”

“no, not now,” he says, his face red. “i’m serious–”

you jump on him anyway, straddling his lap and pressing your hand to the middle of his chest, smiling triumphantly. his face is practically scarlet.

“got you! now, tell me what you're thinking about–”

your voice trails off as you sit yourself fully on his lap and suddenly realize why he was acting so odd. blood rushed to your face as you felt his hard cock press against you through the fabric of his shorts. he was almost shaking under you, his face so hot you were sure it was going to set the carpet on fire. his fingers were tangled in the shag material of the rug, like he was physically trying to hold himself back.

“oh, i–” you stutter, swallowing hard. you didn't know what to do. you had always told yourself to you weren't attracted to austin– he was just a friend. and a straight friend at that. but as you thought back to all the little touches, all the jokes and laughs and nights you called him because you couldn't sleep– did you really only ever like him as a friend?

and now, here, with his cock pressed against you, caused just by your lips.

it was too much to handle.

you shifted your hips against him, making him gasp sharply. that small noise alone sent a buzz through your body. you shifted again, and again, and again– until you were more or less grinding on austin’s dick.

austin’s hands went to your hips, gripping them softly as you began to grind against him. he looked up at you with glassy eyes, his cheeks flushed as he swallowed hard and spoke lowly.

“wh…what’re you doin’?”

“sitting.” you say breathlessly, biting your lip. god, even just this small bit of friction was driving you crazy.

“you can do that on the floor,” he huff shakily, his face flushing darkly as he tries to still your hips.

“i thought you liked bein’ close to me,” you mutter, putting on a fake pout and shifting your hips once more. austin swallows hard, his throat bobbing as he stares up at you dumbly, like he couldn't believe you were teasing him like this.

“i-i do, i mean–” he stutters, his face reddening. “yeah, i…” he mumbles, before letting out a short laugh, his head falling back. “f-fuck you, man–” he gasps, throat bobbing as he speaks.

you smirk and lean forward, your face dangerously close to his as you reach for the red solo cup you had placed on the floor earlier. he swallows again, his eyes fixed on you as you sit back up and take a drink. he’s practically glaring holes through you as you pull the cup away from your lips.

“sorry, i was thirsty.”

“now you're just fucking with me,” he says breathily, licking his lips.

“don't i always?” you hum, shifting your hips once again, more slowly this time so that austin could really feel it.

austin groans, his head falling back as you moved against him. he bites his lip, looking up at you with lidded eyes, his face dark red as he speaks throatily.

“you're wet.”

you laugh softly, absentmindedly spreading your legs further apart. “am i?”

you and austin both gasp softly as you spread your legs. you feel your lips spread apart, and you're sure he feels it too. he stares up at you, and you decide that it's time to stop playing coy.

you begin to roll your hips against him needily, your breath hitching as you feel his length through his pants, twitching and reacting to your wetness through your thin shorts. austin’s hands are resting on your hips, guiding your movements and squeezing, making you jolt.

“h-hah, fuck–” you gasp, chuckling breathily as you lean forward to steady yourself on your hands. “you're big…”

“did you think i’d be small?” austin chuckles, his hips lifting to meet yours.

“i-i..”

“cat got your tongue?” he teases, boring your hips down so you could really feel his cock against your cunt, making you shudder at the pressure.

austin being bold wasn't really something that occurred very often. it was interesting, for sure, but you did prefer him when he was shyer. it was cute.

you smirk the best you can, looking up at him through your eyelashes and speeding your hips up, making him gasp and arch up into you. you let out a breathless chuckle, licking your lips as you spoke.

“no, but it can have yours, depending on how far you wanna take it,”

austin practically lit up red as he processed your words, realizing what you meant. his eyes were big and blue as he met yours. you cocked your head to the side, smirking crookedly as you stared down at him teasingly.

“i…i dunno,” he admits, swallowing hard. “i’m still not sure if i swing that way.” he says shakily, his nerves beginning to show on his face.

your gaze turns sympathetic as you still your hips, intertwining your fingers with his. he squeezes your hand, and you smile softly as you stare down at him.

“we don't have to if you don't want to,” you remind him, stroking his hand gently. “i can always go take a cold shower.”

“well now i feel bad for leaving you hanging,” he breathes.

“don't.” you chuckle, reaching to mess up his hair. “your comfort is more important.”

you move to leave his lap with shaky legs, before his hands pull you back down by your hips swiftly. you look down at austin, shocked.

“aus–”

“what's that rule you said a while ago?” he asks, biting his lip. “if we don't touch it’s…it doesn't count?”

you want to laugh. you really do, but the way austin is looking at you, so needy and sincere…all the laughter dies in your throat. you nod, shifting against his throbbing cock, swallowing hard.

“y-yeah. if we don't…touch skin-to-skin…it doesn't count,” you breathe gently, licking your lips.

“yeah,” austin mutters, like he’s trying to convince himself as he begins guiding your hips against him again, making your mouth drop open.

“austin–”

“d-did you–” he breathes, swallowing hard. “did you mean…what you said?”

“of course,” you groan, smirking weakly. “you wanna–?”

“please,” he groans.

you gently tug his hair, earning a small moan from his lips as you back off from his lap, pulling him between your legs. it's a sight, austin clambering to get between your thighs, tugging at your shorts and revealing your dripping cunt. he hold back a gasp, but his grip on your thighs tightens.

“go on,” you urge gently, unable to wait anymore. he leaned closer, his breath ghosting over your folds and making you shiver sweetly. he looked up at you, making eye contact with you before he finally licked a stripe up your cunt.

his tongue was hot and slick and perfect, and he seemed to know just where to lick you. your head fell back as he fell into a rhythm, lapping at your entrance and licking up, just falling short of your clit. he was teasing you, and you were losing your mind. one of your hands found his dirty blonde hair, giving a tug as you grunted.

“f-fuck, aus– c’mon…”

he hummed against you, licking a stripe across you once again before his tongue finally licked across your clit, making you gasp sharply and pull his hair roughly.

he pulled away, his voice low and breathy. “keep pulling and we might have to break the rule,”

you smirked and gave another teasing tug, making him groan again as he went back to attacking your clit with his tongue, making your hips twitch up against his mouth.

your hands tighten in his hair, and he reaches for them and intertwines your fingers together, humming against you and looking into your eyes almost needily.

you shouldn't feel your heart soar at the gesture, but your face flushes and you look away from his puppy dog eyes as he squeezes your hands. you keep reminding yourself that this is your friend, the one you've known for years, and the one you're definitely not attracted to.

but to hold his hands as he eats you out is so intimate, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest.

austin licks against you lazily, testing your sensitivity. he rolls your clint under his tongue, riling you up and making that heat rise in your stomach slowly, only for it to die away as he trailed back down to lap at your folds. you almost whine, but you refuse to give in to him.

he was doing this on purpose– trying to get you to give in to him, and you refused. even though your whole body was sweating and hot from head to toe, shuddering with each lick of his tongue against you, you didn’t want to fall victim to his games.

he pulled away from you slightly, and you almost gasped at the sight. his plump lips were shiny with you, his face pink as he stared up at you, cheek resting against your thigh stickily.

“c’mon, baby,” he hums, panting out softly. “i know you wanna give in,”

you exhale loudly, glaring at him with lidded eyes as you catch your breath, your orgasm ebbing away with the lack of stimulation. “never to you,” you chuckle softly, reaching down and pulling him up by his shirt collar and kissing him hard, groaning as you taste yourself on his lips.

you feel his cock press against your thigh, throbbing as you lick into his mouth eagerly. he lets out a small noise, pressing his hips up into your thigh needily. you wanted to pull away and tease him over how needy he got over a kiss, but his lips were so enticing that you could only lean in.

your hands travel to his hips, tangling in his belt loops and tugging at his jeans.

when his cock springs out, you hardly suppress a gasp. he’s big. you felt him through his pants, but seeing it put just how large he was into perspective. his face flushed darkly as he pressed his cock into your thigh, grinding into it as he whines breathily.

“please– need you,” he breathes, looking at you with big, wet eyes. “let me fuck you.”

you couldn't say no to that.

“lay down,” you mutter, pressing your hand to his chest and pinning him to the ground, straddling his waist and biting your lip as you feel his cock against your back, twitching and leaking with need as you lift yourself up and line up his cockhead with your entrance. he lets out an absolutely pitiful noise as he feels you leaking hotly against him, adding the slightest bit of pressure.

“f-fuck– please,” he gasps, hips squirming against the plush carpet. “n-need to feel you, please.”

you lick your lips, leaning down and kissing him deeply as you sink yourself onto his length, groaning lowly into his mouth as you feel him stretch you out. he jerks beneath you, needy for more friction as he bottoms out, filling you to the hilt.

it's dizzying how close you are. your skin is touching his, hips grinding slowly against one another as you both get adjusted to each other. austin is whimpering– panting into his shoulder as he grips onto your thighs shakily, trying to adjust to the tight heat around him. you can't help but smile down at him. you've known austin since you were just starting to transition, and he was so supportive of you when you told him. he was awkward and kind of a nerd, sure, but he loved you, and that was all you could truly ask for.

“god, aus,” you breathe, your head lolling to the side as you reach down and grab his hand, lacing your fingers together. “i fucking love you.”

his face flushes red, and his cock twitches deep inside of you. his lips part, a shocked moan escaping them as you began to roll your hips against him, moving his cock within you sweetly.

“f-fuck,” he gasps, his hips pressing up into yours needily, chasing the hot, wet feeling of you around him helplessly. your breathing was heavy and hot with effort, trying to keep a rhythm that wouldn't make your orgasm rise too quickly, but also desperately wanting to get more sensation. you didn't even know if your legs were strong enough to lift yourself.

you spread your thighs further and hiss as you feel more of austin almost splitting you open. he stares up at you with glassy eyes as you shakily lift yourself with all the strength you can muster, freeing his cock until only the tip is left inside of you. his cock is glistening with you, and you curse under your breath at the sight as you lower yourself down.

austin’s hands come to rest on your hips gently, looking into your eyes as he watches you settle back down onto him.

“l-lemme help,” he gasps, practically begging as he presses his hips up once again. “wanna make you feel good, please,”

“aus,” you groan, head falling forward limply as you try and lift yourself again, only to be guided by austin as he sees you struggle.

“u-ugh–”

he guides you up and down at a steady but fast pace, the friction making your mouth hang open needily. you rock your hips, trying to do something so he isn't doing all of the work.

“m-mm…f-feel so good around me..” he groans, dazed as his head rolls back, hips rolling up against yours every chance he gets. he's letting out little whines with every little movement, not even noticing as you lean down and press a soft kiss to his jaw.

you feel your orgasm bubbling up in your stomach, the familiar warmth making you tingle as you press down on austin’s shoulders, breath hitching against austin’s soft skin as you speed up your hips.

“austin,” you whimper, shuddering as you lay against him, clit grinding against his pubic bone. “i’m gonna cum,” you warn, angling your hips in an attempt to find that spot inside of you.

“wanna see,” he whines desperately, hips twitching up and hitting that sweet spot buried deep in you. you gasp out, practically sobbing as the head of his cock worries into that spot, making your thighs tremble and burn at the overwhelming sensation. you grind down against his cock needily, losing every shred of dignity and just chasing the sensation of him, needing nothing than to be full of austin. you blindly grasp for his wrist, guiding it towards you and he immediately begins touching your clit, circling it with his fingers as you ride him frantically.

you dig your nails into austin’s shoulders, clawing down his chest and groaning as you throw your head back.

“o-oh, god–” austin whimpers out pathetically, his hips stuttering up into yours as he cums inside of you suddenly, his cum warm and sticky as it fills you.

you're shocked, but keep rocking against him, even as he whimpers from oversensitivity beneath you. he's trembling, embarrassed and overstimulated as tears fall down his red cheeks.

“a-ah– please,”

“i’m almost there–” you promise, leaning back and resting your hands on his knees as you spread yout thighs, taking him further and attacking your sweet spot with vigor. you well out as your orgasm finally hits, making your vision white out as it makes your body shudder deeply with aftershocks.

as you come down from your high, austin is weakly grasping at your hips and pulling you closer, pressing wet kisses to your jaw and neck.

“m-mm….g-good, was so good,” he mutters lowly, his voice hoarse from all of the crying out. you chuckle weakly, running a hand through his damp hair.

“th-thought i was gonna pass out,” you mutter, pressing your face into his neck. “you did so good.” you praise, reveling in the whine he lets out.

“quit that,” he huffs, hands running up your back. “y’always praise me, ‘m gonna get cocky one day.”

“shit, how are you not cocky with that monster in your pants?” you ask, making austin sputter incredulously. “if i woulda known you were packing, i would have asked you out years ago.”

“mhm, yeah, right in the middle of our small shitty dorm.” he teases, leaning into you. “real romantic.”

you stick your tongue out at him, and he sticks his out in return and presses it against yours. you blush and put your tongue back in your mouth, feigning disgust.

“gross!”

“i lived with you in college.” austin hums. “your boxers all over the floor were gross.”

you smack at his chest, chuckling as he stares at you. his eyes are admiring and his blue, and god you can't help but squirm under his gaze.

“what?” you huff, looking away from him.

“can we kiss?” he asks, leaning in slightly. “again?”

you blush slightly, but silently nod. he leans in and kisses you gently, hand cradling the side of your face as he savors the taste of you.

you sigh into the kiss, finally content as you wrap your legs around austin’s waist. after all these years, you finally found the one thing you needed in your life. if only you knew how long you had it.

#austin butler #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #austin butler smut #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x y/n #sub!austin

[whoslaurapalmer]

questions for fic writers: 39, 40

39) Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who?

i think at this point the process specifically is a mix of 'the kind of writing advice you always hear and should definitely take but i don't always super follow through with' (write first, edit last and not while writing, schedule time to write, you should have some kind of plan or at least have some idea of where the story ends), 'what you subconsciously absorbed just from interacting with stories about what makes up a story' (you know how many stories i wrote that followed the hero's journey before i even learned the hero's journey???? just because almost every story is already the hero's journey, so when i went to write a big story as a kid, i just naturally followed all the beats??? and you absorb a lot just from interacting with stories. you learn what you like, what you don't, what ones you think did certain things effectively, which ones were good but could've been better, all of that becomes parts of the process you don't even realize you think through sometimes), 'what i learned through four years of doing a lit major in college and analyzing words' (what makes successful writing, how to organize your words in a sentence, what a theme looks like in a work, what parts of your story should do vs how they're going to actually play out on the page, how to accomplish what you want to create, the value of an outside opinion on a draft), and 'what i learned from checking out the twitters of professional writers i like and the tumblrs of fic writers i like' (other story structures like the seven-point structure, doing plot walls, making charts, ideally letting a story sit before you edit it to come at it with fresh eyes)

IF THAT ALL MAKES SENSE?????? i know what's like, influenced my writing, like the style, but influencing my writing process was like. well that one i'm not sure of

40) Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

i reread fics alllllllll the time, like i always save my favorites to go back to. i can't imagine just reading something once and then, never going back to it to read it again, if i really liked it!!! also if i find a fic i like, right after i finish it i tend to, reread it, for a while. for. a while

right now i'm rereading be (les mis characters perform hamlet) and my words are growing stronger, and my legs keep getting longer (the most perfect good omens fic you will ever read)

#thank you!

[anon-drabble]

9 and 38 for the writers' ask, please!!

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know:

this is kinda hard to answer because it's both yes and no? i've seen things that could only be described as a ghost. my fic, not alone, was inspired by one such sighting.

i believe i witnessed these things and i believe that they could only be categorized as ghosts but i actually don't even really believe in ghosts. so i both believe i saw a ghost but also i know ghosts don't exist. so make of that what you will 😂

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

there's a lot i do that a lot of other writers would say is "the wrong way" but really there is no wrong way. what works for some people won't work for others. one of these is that i listen to music, specifically musicals, almost exclusively when i'm writing. i cannot count the number of times i've been told it's "wrong" or even "not allowed" to listen to music with lyrics when writing because it distracts other people. for me, usually with musical soundtracks, i use the emotions the actors are portraying more than the words. one of my favorite musicals has this wonderful finale where the actor sings and speaks in shuddering breaths, cutting off his own words with emotion, and even though you can't see him, you can tell in his singing that he's smiling but it's so sad, just a heartbreaking smile, of this man, realizing and identifying just how alone he is, but trying, fighting to not let it claim him, not again. and he's just singing and even before i knew the story for this musical, i could just feel the emotions behind his singing. so i use music with words to inspire me.

another thing i do that others cannot and will not do: i only write in one sitting. 90% of my fics (even the 10k or longer fics) were written all at once. a lot of writers write in pieces. and also, a lot of writers will write out of order, they'll write the scene they know, the one they have an idea of, and fill in the holes later. or they'll write up to a transition but leave a placeholder like "they went to this place" just so they can move on and write the next section and come back later to fill it out. i don't and i can't, i have to write in order or else i just never finish the fic. i've had a vandy fic living in my drafts for about 3 years now because i wrote the ending first, because that was what i wanted to write. i'd love to write the rest of it but i don't know how to get to that ending anymore lol. i probably would have had the complete fic up if i'd just started from sentence 1 instead lol.

i don't necessarily think these are weird but they're not what a lot of writers do so.

#not writing #ask games #thanks anon 😘

[carbo-ships]

👀👀👀

-Puck @/faerie-circle-ships

is that 3? you're getting 3.

[Context: They're getting ready to go on tour.]

It was the night before the band was scheduled to leave for their European tour. Ardis was packed and ready to go, lounging on a couch in one of the sitting rooms. She was locked in an inherently one-sided conversation with Plushia, who was curled up on her chest. She'd been tasked with keeping an eye on him while the others finished getting their things together so that he wouldn't stow away in someone's luggage. He clearly wanted to go on tour with the band, but Papa wouldn't allow it.

The satanic pope decided he was due a break, and went to visit his angel. He made his way into the sitting room and greeted her warmly. "Good evening, my little dove."

"Hi, Papa," she replied with a big smile. "Is the packing going alright?"

"Yes, nearly done. Has Plushia given you any trouble?"

"Of course not. Are you sure he can't come?" Ardis asked, looking up at Papa with her big doe eyes.

"I'm sorry, cara," he tutted. "It wouldn't be safe for him. He's far too inclined to wander off. I know you two will miss each other, though."

She sighed, hugging Plushia tighter to her chest. "I understand."

"Do you mind if I join you two for a bit?" Papa asked. "This old body of mine is in need of a break."

Ardis pulled her knees closer to her chest to offer him a spot on the couch, which he accepted. Once he was settled, he tugged her legs to stretch them back out across his lap and rested his hands on her shins. Ardis smiled. She loved the casual intimacy he often engaged in absentmindedly. "Demons are so different than I imagined," Ardis said as she caressed Plushia's back.

"In what way?"

"Well, take this one, for example. He's such a little sweetheart."

Papa chuckled. "If you say so. You only think that because he hasn't made a trail of your unmentionables down the hallway."

Ardis gasped at the little doll. "You wouldn't!" Plushia only stared back at her with the same blank, unblinking expression he always had.

"I assure you he has," Papa insisted. "In fact, I'm still missing a few pairs."

"Plushia, no! Okay, bad example. Well, Aether, then."

Papa grinned, a teasing look in his eyes. "What about that man, eh?"

She shied slightly. "He's kind, and affectionate, and protective, and charming... That's certainly not what I expected."

"It's so cute to see you in love," Papa said with a genuine smile.

"I– I'm–" Her face flushed.

[Context: Papa is holding Ardis hostage under the mistletoe and is determined to embarrass her.]

Swiss slowly leaned closer, closing his eyes. She froze. He wasn't really going to kiss her, was he? Ardis tried to lean back, but Papa's chest served as an unmoving wall. Oh, dear. She watched anxiously with red cheeks as he inched closer and closer, then– pivoted at the last second to peck her cheek.

She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Don't scare me like that!" she scolded, glaring up at him.

"Oh, don't look so disappointed," Swiss laughed with a wink. He ruffled her hair as he stepped aside.

Behind him stood Sodo. His expression was unreadable, as always. She shied under the stare of his piercing blue eyes. He took her chin in his hand as his eyes methodically scanned her face. Once he decided on the most appropriate course of action, he pressed a ginger kiss to her other cheek.

[Context: This was in the first draft of Chapter 26 (I think) but ultimately got cut.]

Aether scooted as far back as possible until his back was resting against the wall, then pulled her into his arms. He reached behind her and pulled the privacy curtain closed, engulfing them both in darkness. The small bunk wasn't fit to accommodate two people, which only meant that Ardis had to snuggle closer to him. He kissed her forehead silently, savoring the intimacy of their tight quarters and trying not to disturb the ghouls who were only a few feet away. "I'm so glad you're here," he whispered in her ear. She nuzzled into him in response. He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then her neck, but she quickly stopped him. He could feel her pulse quicken. He'd clearly gotten a bit too overzealous and reached a boundary. Thinking about it, he realized he'd never tried to kiss her neck before. Best to save that for a time when she could properly vocalize her preferences, he decided. For now, he'd stick to things that had already earned her enthusiastic approval. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips in a silent apology. She was much more receptive to that, leaning into him. He wrapped his tail around her waist and rolled so that she was lying on top of him.

[not-quite-there-myself]

Hello! Could I please request Soufflé / MA!Reader where they ( MA ) are trying to better understand him and help him w his awful anxiety bc they're quite similar? And perhaps his other self keeps popping in bc he also wants to try and understand them better? <3

Understanding From Each Other

Headcanon format; gender neutral reader; platonic

A/N: Hi, anon! I saw your request back in September and I'm so sorry I didn't get to finish this sooner. It's been sitting in my drafts and I think it's finally time I let it go. I tried my best with this, I hope you like it after the long wait. Thanks for requesting and happy holidays!

Soufflé has always been introverted, keeping to himself often and making sure he wasn't a bother or a nuisance. You didn't mind his quiet personality at first, but it made you feel sad when he talked down about himself.

Despite everything, Soufflé is always helpful when you needed his assistance. He seems to really like helping you, too. You always thank him and, though he might not say it directly, he appreciates your praise very much. He's also very kind to you, if not a little insecure. You wish to understand him better and find that you relate to his anxious nature.

You call Soufflé to have a chat with you one day, in private, and assure him that he's not in any trouble. You can tell he isn't completely convinced though; his eyes dart around, his hands fidgeting nervously. You take the talk slow with him, starting with something small like how he's doing... and also how his doll Lilia's doing too, of course. He seems to relax when you continue chatting casually, and you could swear that he almost smiles at the mention of Lilia.

Unbeknownst to you, his mirror self is listening in on your conversation as well. It makes Soufflé visibly antsy, but you don't mind. In fact, you even mention how you do similar things to him. Maybe you also fidget or can't do eye contact very well. Maybe you dislike sharing too much about yourself and would prefer to keep things to yourself. Whatever it is, you tell Soufflé in hopes it makes him feel less anxious.

After a while, you and Soufflé get comfortable enough to talk about other things; things he doesn't usually mention on a regular day. His mirror self slips into the conversation once or twice too, and you welcome his interruptions each time. You're very patient with both Soufflé and his mirror self, and at the end of the day the two (or three?) of you feel like you've bonded and gotten closer to each other.

#nqt writing #food fantasy #ff soufflé #ff master attendant

[raymondshields]

📓 📓 📓 Go off king tell the world even more about this silly little AU of ours

Ah, wouldja look at that, my darling mate is awake~ This is why I can't be mad at my sleep schedule being this comically awful. I get to say good morning to you and send you off to work with a kiss like you always do for me! ;O;

The question is, are there any fics in my spreadsheet that you don't know about??? I don't think there is! I think In Observation was the only one I added that you didn't know about already? Uhm, I did just notice I had to update What Could Be's status and pitch, because Angel never does become the court sketch artist, and it was always meant to be their first date and we RPed that, so I just gotta back it up.

So I think this works best as "what ideas do I have kicking around that I've forgotten to tell you about that I'm sure you'll help me brainstorm into actual fics that will go in the spreadsheet until I write them", so how about I just bullet-point a list and we find out what happens.

I have that Shieldsworth smut fic I haven't titled nor finished. I should do that. I am taking title suggestions.

I really want to write the Sagiverse version of The Inherited Turnabout / the entirety of AAI2, because it features Marlis and Marni way more, and Ray gets to be cursed the entire time. Sagiverse!Ray is so different from canon!Ray that his existence alone will change stuff, so I wanna write that together.

Obviously, we need to write the Elderqueer's Aethelian trip, and the four really reclaiming their draconity. This will happen after I sit down and worldbuild the shit out of the Aethel. I am requesting / begging / asking very nicely for all your high-fantasy concepts and ideas that haven't been integrated into something, because the Aethel is like twenty realms and I intend on going off the shits, so we're gonna yes-and rule of cool. I established in I think The Deafening Distance that some of the bridges in Ilya Alyve's highways are just straight up mushroom concrete. Also, titles and ideas of what they're doing along the way. Tbh I wouldn't be surprised if we write this sometime this summer? It might actually be part of Mangoes, now that I think about it, it would be really fitting??? Yeah, okay, I think this is just one of the major plotlines of Mangoes. Lmao. xD

We really gotta sit down and plot out both the Imma and Amaryllis arcs... I say, knowing full well that doing the Imma arc requires sitting down and writing MvK & Addie vs the German Narrators not once but twice and also the Narrator Revolution, and doing the Amaryllis arc means plotting and probably coding three Heroes Infinity games, which requires the timeline, which requires the Infini12 storyline and also Willow's backstory. We could probably do the Imma arc soonish, because it's not so dependent on the Revolution + the German Narrators that we have to rewrite it the moment we do those, but let's be real with how much story we gotta dig into, I'll be amazed if we get to the Amaryllis arc by our wedding. xD Not that I'm complaining! I am looking very much forward to getting to write all this together!!!

See, now I really want to dive directly into Heroes Infinity again, because like, Mia, Diego, Willow, Dahlia, and Marni (and Ray as a bonus) being there changes the story so goddamn much. This immediately brings to mind the scene where Vitta is just yelling at Kaden for stealing the MEWS serum, except she immediately turns around and sees Marni ignoring her health problems, considers going and joining the Legion, sees Willow doing the exact same shit, and then goes back to the Heroes because Kaden is less bad than these two, and that's without her finding out about Ray who is literally only alive because the curse refuses to let him die. I gotta finish Kominting on Blueberries + Apricots before I plunge into Kominting on the HI drafts, but I am so excited to see how throwing some Lawyers into the mix changes things. Mia and Diego parenting the Connors-Shermans Edgeworth-Armandos is gonna be so good, and it not saving them is going to be so angsty and so good. So good. ;O;

Also I forgot until just now but you know Ehaelos? The guy I was bitching about not being able to picrew because he's Black and has red hair? Apparently he only wasn't Miles' advisor at Kensington because Miles really wanted to wingman Marlis. That's fucking hilarious. Miles Edgeworth really did say that wingmanning his sister was more important than his necromancer education and I choose to believe that this is the only trait he retained from MvK, who kinda was That Guy. Objectively, this is the funniest trivia fact in Sagiverse, right next to Raykath.

I really, really want to write the fic of Marlis saving Willow on the ghostroads, because it's also the fic of Atticus saving Marlis and Hannelore being conceived, but like, all of the characters involved save Willow are usually yours to POV from, so I may pass this one onto you, but either way we gotta write it my dude, we can't just Not.

One of these days I will write I Live for Glitter, Not You and it is going to be the objectively funniest fic I've ever written, and then right after it, I will write Hold On Through the Night and we'll get to see drunk Miles angsting over Charley and Larry egging him on, and that's that on that.

Also I found out tonight that during Fight the Good Fight, Miles realizes that Carter knew who Ray was (because he referenced him so heavily in The Last Star of Morning) and promptly summons him and then punches him in the face. He conveniently forgets that Carter couldn't have told him due to the curse, and then has to be restrained so he doesn't punch him again. Because if he does then Ali will kick him in the balls, and Ali kicking Miles in the balls only ever ends in Atticus grounding everyone involved.

Which reminds me. We've gone over Carter and Simon's arc exclusively in quotes. We should, at the very least, turn these into Audiomance recordings and make them into a proper fic. Because otherwise they will never see the light of day and we can't torment Tsuko with them. I feel like if we actually let anyone into the quotes doc we'd die, so we should formalize those and sic them on our friends. I dunno if their arc changes enough to warrant rewriting the canon cases (there are So Many Other things we gotta write and we only have two fucking thimbles to move this ocean with ;~; ) but I do wanna get those all fancied up. That would be great. I love them so much. ;O;

I'll let you in on a funny little secret that you're going to think is absolutely cringe, because I'm looking at the spreadsheet trying to figure out where my train of thought went. You know why I haven't finished Different Worlds, Same Old Moon? It's only halfway because my smut muse is super iffy. It's mostly because the phone in Atticus' apartment is in the hallway, and cell phones were not invented in '71, and it's a far enough stretch of suspension of disbelief to say Atticus rerouted the office phone to go to his home phone after hours, which means Ray has to go pick up the phone from the hallway. Hard to do with what they're doing at the moment, so I was originally like "he just picks him up and keeps doing that with Atticus on his shoulders", but that doesn't work, and you know why? You wanna know why? Because no fuckin hallway ever is going to be tall enough that they can do that, unless Atticus' shitty downtown L.A. apartment in 1971 has comically high ceilings, which it fuckin wouldn't, and thus my ability to write crashed and burned. Once I circumvent this incredibly difficult problem, I will be able to keep writing and hopefully finish it. But I have not doing that, and thus I have writer's block. These are the things that stop me from writing. I must have historical accuracy or I will die. This is the real reason why I need the timeline. I'm pretty sure Hanne and Trucy don't actually have Switches. They meet Ray in 2001. They have Gameboys. They might have played the original Animal Crossing if it was out by then, but certainly not the newer ones. Now, it's entirely likely that we can chalk the Nintendo Switch coming out twenty years earlier to Tails, which would be funny as hell, but we gotta establish this one way or another or otherwise I will die.

Dear god I want to write some fic with Bex, Wolf, and Aingel. But that requires dealing with the Heroes of Kharos, and their storyline is something I really know fuckall about, and I know we're not circling back to that until the Brainrot calls us back to Sonata. Which will happen, but probably after we jump back into Heroes Infinity, so like, I totally wanna do it Right Now but we have two fucking thimbles. I wish Diego did have the power to control gravity and make the world stop turning. Then maybe I could fling the thimble faster and write all of this all at once. I want to stick an extra 32gb of ram directly into my brain. Help.

And I have to end it there because uh. Tumblr. Tumblr what.

Aight, I guess tumblr wants me to go to bed. xD See you in the morning, my lovely, please tell me your thoughts!!! ;O;

[send me a book emoji and I'll tell you the premise of a fic I haven't written yet]

#asks #ask games #nebulaics #for the people who are reading this but are not my fiance: #yes we're always like this #yes this is what sagiverse brainstorming looks like #and YES i am 200% willing to talk more about this if anyone has questions #sagiverse is my love and my life (*and comes second only to my fiance themself) #and i love getting to talk about it #;O;

[planetdream]

Also, I’ve been thinking of your reblog of your dildo training with Skz post and now I gotta know…how would ateez be in that same situation?? ESP the taller members like Mingi and yunho?

-🌙

read skz and dildo training here <3 and this ask really got me thinking... (also kinda let this sit in my drafts half-finished for a while im so so sorry 😭😭)

now if im to follow a fashion similar to the aforementioned post, i think that seonghwa and yeosang can be a bit mean and condescending about it. ngl i actually think these two would get a bit cocky because they have to train you to take them, and you want it just as bad as they do.

— *screaming and crying* yeosang is such a menace. when you whine about how you can't take any more of the dildo, he'll hold onto it with one hand, inching the dildo deeper inside of you while his other hand plays with your clit. but don't worry! he'll give you a bunch of kisses to further soothe you—when he isn't saying the most sinful shit. mocks you for saying that you can't take it when you're so fucking wet and your cunt is practically sucking the dildo in. might just have to get rid of the dildo for now :)

— ok while i think seonghwa can be a bit mean during it, i want to highlight that i think he gives some of the best praise after. covers you in kisses and tells you how proud he is bc you did it!!! and now you can take him which means he gets to fuck you exactly how he wants! pretty much just wants you to be good for him and he'll take the lead on everything <3 basically gets you so fucked out with just his hands and convinces you that you can fit the length in your cunt.

i think san, jongho, and wooyoung are a bit more mischievous rather than mean about it. these three think it's fun to just be a tease! expect lots of teasing touches and words from these three. and while there are serious moments, there are also lots of laughs and smiles.

— i don’t think jongho is all that into dildo training or using toys in general, but when/if he is, he prefers to take control and guide you through it rather than just watch. and if that's the case, he's such a menace. he’s another person who mocks how much you whine. and if you keep whining after he tells you to be quiet, he’ll give your pussy a break and use your mouth for a bit <3

— san is such a tease but he praises you so so well. i think san would strap the dildo to his thigh and make you ride it, hands gripping at your hips, helping you lift yourself up and inch down (alt idea: holds it in his mouth and makes you ride it that way <3). his words will be so teasing but the feeling of him against your skin is so soft and comforting, you melt into him in more than one way.

— and wooyoung, likes to watch you fuck yourself with the dildo. lightly touching at your clit, or playing with your nipples—or even making out with you while his hand replaces yours. but above all, loves to see you ride it, just the sight of seeing you inch down on the dildo, thighs shaking as you struggle to take it all is enough for him to cum in his pants.

lastly, mingi, yunho, and hongjoong are a lot softer and sweet about it than their other members. they're the types to kiss you when you start whining. and they encourage you to take breaks!! they pretty much treat it like it's a very special thing/occasion.

— yunho oh my god... he's so so so sweet with you. encourages you to not only take your time but also take as much as you can, little by little; you have all the time in the world so there's no need to rush. he totally understands you and how much you want to take him despite the initial struggle, so he uses dildo training as a way to guide you into the next steps of taking him. once you've gotten used to the dildo and can fully take that, then he knows he can finally bury himself inside of you like he's been wanting to do this entire time. the next step is training your mouth.

— mingi is sweet because he doesn't want to hurt you. he'd almost prefer for you to take the lead in everything because of it. and that's exactly what he does. lets you fuck yourself with the dildo, watching as you take it inch by inch. and he's almost jealous of it—cause that should be him, buried in your warm cunt—but he can't stop drooling at the sight, it's like he's caught in a trance. and when the time comes that you can finally take the dildo fully, he apologizes in advance for how rough he might get with you.

— now hongjoong definitely has the potential to get a bit mischievous and be a tease (or even a bit mean), but for the most part, he's very sweet. is the type to suck your clit into his mouth while he slowly inches the dildo deeper and deeper. it's funny because he encourages you to take your time, it takes everything in him to be patient. sometimes just goes a little dumb watching because he can only imagine you taking his cock like that.

#💌 — mail time #💌 — 🌙 #✰˚. !! dream.hardhours #☁️ — daydream.atz #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut #ateez smut

[longtimenospooning-luci]

Azalea's, Camelia's and Rhododendron's: Chapter one

Summary: Life always seemed to throw bullshit your way. A bullshit childhood, a bullshit family with the exception of your older brother, a bullshit bodyguard team because of aforementioned older brother... To say you were tired of it would be an understatement. You just wanted to bask in your self-made richness as a bestselling author, all by yourself being the key point, and pretend you're not doing it to avoid your trauma. But now you have to deal with seven incredibly hot, stubborn and frustrating men forcibly barging into your life against both of your wishes and ruining your peaceful silence. So, if they were going to be hardheads, you'll be one right back.

Pairing: Bts x reader, featuring older brother Bang Chan and a dickhead ex to be revealed later on.

Chapter Warnings: LOTS of cussing, Yoongi and JK are assholes, reader loses her shit a little bit.

Word Count: 2.6k

Taglist Form

Surprise! I finished the chapter earlier than anticipated and can't stand keeping it to myself any longer. Thank you to my beta reader @honeyblossom112-2 for dealing with my crazy ass sending multiple drafts this week.

For a second time during this contract, the boys are blindsided by you.

Two days after the meeting with your brother, they're pulling up to the long white river stone driveway to your mansion. An incomplete cobblestone privacy wall in construction around the property, with security guards working what will be the main gate once construction is done.

The front of the property is nothing but lush green grass, cherry blossom trees lining both sides of the drive. A black Tesla sits in front of one of the garage doors, and the boys are amazed a house like this exists just half an hour outside of Seoul.

When they make their way to the large mahogany front door, your brother answers their knocks with a smile, ushering them into the magnificent home.

The first thing that blindsides the boys about you is when Bang Chan divulges that this is not, in fact, the Bang family manor, but your personal home that you designed. They knew you were rich, that much was given in the little file of information they had. But with your career as an author they expected a lavish penthouse in Seoul's skyline, not a mini castle.

"Y/N is currently in a meeting with her editor, let me give you a tour of the property while we wait." Bang Chan says, immediately turning on his heels away from your foyer.

Immediately upon entrance there is a double grand staircase on either side of the room leading up to the second floor, the living room just past it set down a step into the foundation. There's a large sectional and a few plush recliners, a flat screen tv on the wall above the fireplace on the left. Floor to ceiling windows look out on the backyard, a glass door set into it for access to a firepit lounge. To the right is the kitchen, separated by a step back up from the living room pit. A large island with chairs in the center and state of the art appliances fit in the custom designed countertops and cabinets, a perfect clash of white marble and dark gray paint.

On either side of the open concept room behind the stairs are hallways leading to the east and west wings of the house. Bang Chan explains the west wing is just guest rooms and takes them down the east instead. He points out the first door on the right where the cylinder spire of the house is as your office and the manor library. A few more rooms down the hall are more guest rooms, a music room, and an exercise room. A spiral staircase at the end of the hall takes them to the second floor, consisting of a long straight hallway with multiple doors on the right side and one on the left at the end. A crescent landing on the left for the grand staircase. He shows them each of the guest rooms along the hall, the center door on the right being your bedroom that looks out on the backyard, and the last door on the left a large loft above the garage that serves as an art studio.

Making their way back downstairs from the grand staircase a woman emerges from your office, "I'm heading out Bang Chan I'll see you later." the woman calls out to him.

"Get home safe Hwasa, thanks for your hard work!" he calls back to her, then turning his attention to the boys. "You'll see her quite a bit, she has the door code and will have the gate code when it's completed so don't worry about having to let her in. They have to work at ungodly hours sometimes so she has free access to the house."

The boys nod in acknowledgement and follow him to the now open office door, and this is when you blindside them for the second time.

To say that they were expecting you to be the way you are would be a big fat lie.

You're beautiful, that much is clear, but not in the rich heiress way of perfect makeup and hair to go with designer outfits that they're used to. You're beautiful in an almost comforting way, gray sweatpants sit low at your hips with a long flowy pastel shirt tied in a knot at your waist. You're focused on some papers in your hand as you walk from your desk on the right side of the room to a section of the library shelves at the front.

"Y/NNNNNIIIIEEEEEEE, how was your meeting? The team from HYBE is here and I really think you'll get along great." Bang Chan starts, clearly trying to avoid your wrath on the matter.

You simply look over at your brother with a death glare, skimming your eyes quickly over the strangers in your office, and then returning your attention back to your book search with a noncommittal hum; "You know I don't do people, they're not my thing."

Chan deflates in defeat, throwing the façade away and going for the whiny brother approach instead. "Oh come on Y/N please don't be like this to me. You told me I could handle your security so why can't I do this."

"Yea, security meaning hiring the company for the privacy wall and the gate. Not a whole ass bodyguard team like I'm the goddamn First Lady!" You huff back in irritation, walking back to your desk and smacking the stack of papers down as you talk.

"You and I both know that wall won't do you any good when you're not here." he fires back.

"Well that's fine by me, you know I'm perfectly content with staying in my little safety bubble." putting your hands on your hips as you challenge him.

"Y/N you know I won't let you be a recluse and I certainly won't let you go without security here after what happened. I'm sorry but I will not negotiate on this, they're staying and that's final." Chan firmly ends your sibling spat with his words, and your anger radiates off you in waves over his stubbornness.

You grit out a "Fine" and plop down in your desk chair, flipping open the book you grabbed earlier. "You have work in an hour you should get going," you say without looking at him.

He knows you and your stubbornness much like his own, and so he heeds your indirect request for him to fuck off for now. He gives a smile and a nod to the boys and makes his way out of the house, leaving you with your very unwelcome guests.

When the click of the front door closing sounds, you sit back in your chair with a huff, looking up at the men before you. ''I'm Y/N but you obviously already know that, what are your names?" you speak up.

The boys once again fall into place in a line and formally introduce themselves to you. Nodding your head in acknowledgement as each one says their name.

"Well, despite the circumstances it's nice to meet you all. Your things arrived a little bit before you did and were taken to the rooms you'll be staying in by my housekeeper Mira. I'm sure you'll have the pleasure of meeting her at dinner, she's very motherly and usually won't take no for an answer when it comes to taking care of someone so it's best to just go with it. I'm sure you'd like to go unpack and familiarize yourself with the house so please don't mind me and go do what you need to."

This was certainly not what the boys were expecting you to say, and a part of them immediately found your behavior suspicious. Years of dealing with rich heiresses who didn't want bodyguards always ended with wild goose chases around packed clubs, trying to ditch them as soon as possible. And if that didn't work then it was working as their personal slaves, holding at least twenty shopping bags each from their splurges at designer stores. They'd rather be caught dead than be tied to you indefinitely, and they'll do anything to get out of this contract.

Mornings have always been the bane of your existence, you were not a morning person, but your career had made you into one by proxy.

If anyone asked what your favorite things were, you'd probably list coffee first, with comfy clothes and plants as a close second and third.

It's around 7am and the manor is quiet while you make your coffee in the kitchen, a silk robe over your pajamas to fend off the crisp morning air when you step outside. Making your way to the prized glass greenhouse in your large, perfectly landscaped backyard on the slate stone pathway; you take a second to breath in the fresh air and enjoy the early morning sunshine.

The box planters at the front of the structure hold your more hardy plants and small iron wrought tables house small outdoor bonsais. You notice a few have started to bloom with the early summer weather, and you look forward to the sweet smells the buds will exude when they open.

Heading inside you walk down the aisle like section to the back where it opens up into a high-ceilinged abortorium. Setting your coffee cup down on the Victorian table in the center you turn to get to work taking care of your babies. You'd never admit this to anyone, but each plant you have has a name, and you always talk to them as you work on them.

You worked happily for about an hour, taking breaks here and there to sip your coffee, and headed back inside the manor with your empty cup.

The smell of breakfast hit you as soon as you opened the door and you saw Mira in the kitchen to your left working at the stove. The large flat screen tv in the living room was turned on to the news and the banner flashing across it immediately soured your mood.

"Oh, good morning Y/N" Mira chirped when she noticed you.

"How long have they been in deliberation Mira?" You asked without turning your attention to her.

"... about 15 minutes now. I was hoping you wouldn't stress over it today." She replied softly, knowing well that watching the sentencing verdict would likely cause you pain.

Before you could reply to her; Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook walked into the living room from the west wing. Each giving a good morning greeting to you and Mira. Footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs as Mira offered the boys coffee while they waited for breakfast, cautiously eying you engrossed on the tv.

Namjoon, Jin and Yoongi rounded the banister and entered the kitchen, taking the chairs at the island to chat with the woman while she cooked. All seven of them occupied in their own conversations to notice you standing in turmoil at the edge of the kitchen where it drops down into the living room.

Mira stops moving, cutting off the boys at the island when they notice her behavior. She turns off the burner and moves the pan away, calling out to you.

You don't hear her, you don't hear anything as you stare at the news banner that just changed from 'Judges in sentencing deliberation' to 'Judges have reached a verdict on sentencing.' It was so fast, it was too fast and it terrifies you.

By now your frozen state has caught the attention of everyone, and Mira pays no mind to the boys as she rounds the island to check on you. You've always been like a daughter to her, and she's been the only real mother figure in your life, she'll be damned if she's not holding your hand when the results come out.

She turns the tv up further, so it echoes in the room, and grips tightly onto your hand. The judges sit down and the court settles, and you think you might pass out.

"After careful deliberation and consideration of the final statements made on the defendants' behalf today, as well as the testimonies given during the trial, a verdict has been reached. In the case of Mr. Shin Do-Yun, sentencing will be declared as time served at the Seoul Detention Center, with a six-month probationary period and a fine of 1 billion Won to be given as reparations to the victim."

The room is so quiet you can hear your own heartbeat, and then a soft noise starts to sound. It's not the tv, Mira silenced it, so what is it? . . . It's getting louder now; it sounds like a laugh. Oh. That's your laugh, you're laughing but you don't know why, Mira is wiping your face but you don't know why. You want to tell her what a load of bullshit that is, you want to tell her you're okay, but you can't get the words out. They're stuck in your throat and you're choking on them, you want to scream, you want to breathe, why can't you?

The disbelief is fizzling, and the anger is bubbling up like a volcano, your laughter is dying into a chuckle, and you want to rip everything to pieces.

"THAT FUCKING BASTARD!" Ah, there's your voice. The empty mug that was in your hand is now shattered across the room, thrown at the fireplace.

"Can you believe this shit Mira? Time served? TIME SERVED!?" You're seething, gritting the words out. God, you need to throw something; you need to do something, anything to get this anger out.

You snatch the tv remote and throw it towards the fireplace to join the mug in shards on the floor. Someone comes into your vision, its Yoongi, and you want to scream at him to get out of your way.

"You need to calm down. Right now." he speaks to you in a low tone.

"Calm down?" you're laughing again "CALM DOWN? Who the fuck are you to tell me to calm down."

"Look, I don't understand why you're acting the way you are. But throwing a temper tantrum like a spoiled brat isn't going to fix anything. I'm not going to sit back and let you destroy shit just because you're not going to be the one to clean it up."

Ah, you want to punch him.

"That's enough." Mira speaks in her motherly tone, inserting herself between you and Yoongi so you can't throttle him.

"Y/N bug, why don't you go up to your room and I'll be there in a little bit with breakfast, we can eat together okay?"

God, you can't deny this woman anything no matter how mad you are.

"Okay..." taking a deep breath you begin to turn to make your way upstairs and a scoff stops you in your tracks.

Directing your attention to the source of the noise, your anger flares again as you look at Jungkook. "You got something to say asshole?"

"I just think it's funny that you're trying to act intimidating when you're running away, because you got called out for being a bitch and you can't even deny it." He's leaning with his back against the island, arms crossed as he says this, and the smug look on his face makes you want to slap it off.

"What did you just call me?" Your tone is low and even, you're ready to give him the fight he's asking for.

Mira breaks the tension, slamming her hand on the countertop. "I said that's enough!"

"Y/N, go on upstairs. And you!" she swivels her attention to Jungkook, "Keep your mouth shut, do you understand?"

He nods his head, looking a bit guilty to have angered the sweet woman, as you continue your trek upstairs. All you can think as you climb the stairs is that you can't wait to get rid of them.

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Taglist: @emu007 @childfmoonn @candied-lavender @silscintilla @sporadicfuryface @definetlythinkimanalien @btsizlyfe

#bts x you #bts x reader #bodyguard!bts #bodyguard!bts x reader #author!reader #bts angst #poly!bts #poly!bts x reader

[milkybonya]

slow ride ◇ 하루토

Warnings: rollercoaster/heights/food mentions

Pairing: bf!Haruto x reader

[a/n]: i had this thought when i was on a family trip and now that i'm sad i'm writing this for myself heh p.s not that anyone cares im not sad anymore now that i've finished the draft !

"Are we there yet?" Ruto asks you from beside you on the bus, resting his head on your shoulder as he scrolls through his phone.

"Almost! We get off in 3 stops," you say, resting your head on top of his.

You can't see him, but he smiles under the feeling of your head over his, his eyes crinkling shut and his lips stretching widely on either side.

As you continue to look at maps on your phone, Ruto reaches for your hand while still scrolling through his phone, too. You hold his, and his thumb traces circles over your hand.

"We're here!" you say, pressing the button for the bus to stop.

Haruto lets out a little 'yaay' as the two of you stand up and exit while still holding hands.

The theme park entrance is packed, and you struggle to join the line of people entering.

"Don't let go of my hand! What if we get lost?" you tell Haruto, who smiles and holds your hand more tightly.

"Okayy, we won't lose each other, don't worry. Not if I do this!" he says, suddenly throwing an arm around you and pulling you in more closely.

You squeal in shock and Haruto laughs.

Finally inside the park, Haruto lets you drag him to all the rides he wants to go on. Despite being scared of heights (and maybe you are, too!) he promised he would join you on an amusement park date someday, and now here it is!

Half of your day consists of waiting in lines and Haruto shielding you from anyone who tries to push, budge or cut in line. He throws them a glare and nuzzles closely into you, resting his chin on the top of your head from behind you.

The rides are fun and scary, but they're even better with Haruto at your side. His high-pitched scream makes you laugh so hard you lose your breath on the ride.

Whenever you're scared, Haruto says, "don't worry. I won't let them get away with it if anything happens to you on this ride. I'll sue them! You know how rich I am, right?"

"Yeah, rich in stuffed animals?" you shoot back, and he pouts.

Ready for something to eat, you both excitedly rush from food stall to food stall until you find some things you like, sharing everything with each other and wiping sauce off each other's faces.

"I'm sorry but you'll have to kiss the sauce off my face this time," you say, puckering your lips.

Haruto gently pushes your face away with a smile.

"Here? In front of all these people?" he asks you, blushing.

You shrug somewhat in agreement and walk off, but Haruto catches up to you and quickly kisses your cheek, somewhere just under your eye and near your ear.

You feel embarrassed and hide in his jacket, and he yells at you to stop before he spills all his food on you.

All full and ready for more rides, you notice a stuffed animal you like, instead.

"Ruto... we have to win that one!" you say, rushing towards in.

He chases after you, declaring that he'll give the game a go.

"We need it so we can put it in our apartment when we move in together in the future," you ramble on.

"You want to live with me in the future?" Haruto asks, looking at you before he attempts the game.

"Uh-"

"That's cute. I'm glad we're on the same page, love," he says with a grin before trying the game and miserably failing.

He misses all his tries and has to drag you away, but you turn back and decide to give it a shot yourself this time, and to your surprise, you win on the first go!

Haruto takes some photos and videos of you cutely stomping around the park with the huge stuffed animal in your hands, and later when you watch the video, half of the audio is just Haruto giggling and calling you 'cute' and 'precious'.

Before the two of you leave, though, you mount the ferris wheel. Once again, not the best for Haruto's fear of heights (and for you too if you also fear heights!) but a must because you whined to Haruto earlier about how all cute couples ride the ferris wheel in movies.

With the stuffed animal sitting beside you and Haruto across from you, you try to enjoy the view despite being so high up. On the other hand, Haruto is shivering across from you, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his black hoodie.

Feeling bad for dragging him on here, you slowly move to sit beside him, not wanting to shake the ride, and you hold his hands in yours. Squeezing them and nuzzling your cheek against them.

"We'll be down soon, Haruto, okay? Don't worry."

You rest your head on his shoulder and he smiles, holding your hand tightly while resting his head on top of yours.

I should be scared more often if [y/n] will cuddle up to me like this each time, he thinks to himself.

#treasure imagines #treasure scenarios #treasure fluff #haruto imagines #haruto scenarios #haruto fluff #haruto x reader #haruto watanabe #haruto #treasure #trsr imagines #trsr fluff #trsr scenarios #bf!haruto #bf!haruto x reader #boyfriend!haruto #boyfriend!haruto x reader #haruto x you #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #treasure haruto #treasure au #haruto au

[justanotherblonde]

1. things that inspire you || 13. hardest character to write || 36. one-shot or multi-chaptered story? || 45. share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet

thanks so much for the asks, my dear!!! 💖💖💖✨✨✨

1. things that inspire you

often it's just the little things, like a song, or some small act, like doing the dishes (and breaking one). other times i just daydream and let my mind wander, and it'll make the weirdest connections... i'm always thinking "what if...?" i also get loads of inspiration from prompts and challenges, fandom events, random convos on discord...

13. hardest character to write

Sai was really hard for me to get right at first, but workshopping really helped! same with Third in the ballet AU... kitty helped me get both of their voices closer to what felt right. also, i find Konan a bit challenging... she's a very deep, complex character, but it's easy to reduce her to simple character traits, so i have to be careful...

36. one-shot or multi-chaptered story?

hmm it really depends, but one-shots are more satisfying to me. write it, finish it, get it out there and let people enjoy it! there's no pressure to keep adding chapters if i run out of time to write... i have a few complete shorter multi-chapter works tho, but they're just more of a commitment... right now i have too many sitting there unfinished!!!

45. share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet

ooh this one is hard because the only fresh story idea i'm sitting on right now (that doesn't have any chapters already out there) is the piece that i'm doing for the Naruto calendar, and i'm not allowed to share anything about that til it's out in January!

i might not actually be writing anything new til January, once the SasoDei week prompts come out...

but... i could possibly share more of a complete synopsis of the SasoThird ballet AU, Come What May, because i will finish writing that story before i die, i promise!! i just skimmed through my draft document and i still have A LOT planned for them!!

After graduating the Suna Academy for Performing Arts, Sasori was supposed to join the Sunan National Ballet and follow in the footsteps of his grandmother. Instead (see why in Chapters 1-4!!), he decides to audition for San Kazekage's Kazekage Modern Ballet. Spoiler, he makes the audition (but he sure had to work for it: those three dancers from Ame are really talented!) Now, he is working on a new ballet with San based on Coppelia, and they can't seem to see eye to eye on any creative decisions... Will they be able to make it work before opening night??

that's all i got for now. i promise to the moon and back that I WILL WRITE IT!!! to the bittersweet end!

#fanfic writer asks #ask blonde #tropical gothic #sasori #sasosan #sasothird #konan #sai yamanaka #writing things #writer things

[alyssabethancourt]

If you only read one of my project updates, make it this one.

It took most of the day to kick in, for some reason, but the price of the Mornnovin eBook on Amazon has finally adjusted to 99¢. It will remain at that deeply discounted price at least until February 26th. I may or may not be persuadable on the subject of extending the sale for an additional week.

So now that the stress of that unexpected snafu has lifted, I can do a proper update.

It's Friday, five days in, and as of posting this the fundraiser is sitting pretty at $821 or 22% funded. We're nicely on track. The next big goal, obviously, is getting to 25% ($925) and I'm confident we can hit that mark easy-peasy before the end of the weekend. Please, keep talking up this series and sharing the link with your friends, family, and followers.

Trajelon is a special book not just because it's mine and I have to say that, but because it explores issues and themes that I don't think we see often enough in fiction – especially not in the sparkly elf magic genre.

I'm going to get real with you for a minute.

I've talked before about how the version of Mornnovin that is now published is the culmination of thirty years and four versions of telling that particular story. What people may not know is that I'd also written Trajelon once before.

In late 1997, I was 18 years old and I'd made some terrible decisions that I was locked into living with for the foreseeable future, both because of the nature of responsibility but also because of pride. People had tried to warn me, and of course being the age I was, I knew everything. I'd been downright insolent about my conviction that I knew what I was doing.

So there I was, miserable, bridges burned, everything to prove, struggling under the load of several massive responsibilities all taken on at once, knowing that I'd made the bed I now had to lie in. I was also trying to pass my first semester of college as an English major. I can't remember now precisely which combination of events led me to come to this conclusion, but I started to feel that although I was reasonably good at academic writing, my creative writing was a clear waste of my time. I actually went as far as deciding to give it up.

I think, now, that I might have been trying to punish myself.

That take makes sense in hindsight because as soon as I'd grounded myself from the sort of writing I actually enjoy doing, two things happened.

One, at odd moments I started doodling scenes that weren't supposed to be part of anything, so I was free from the feeling that they had to be any good or make any kind of sense or fit within a larger narrative. This would come to be important later.

And two, the scenes I was scribbling down without any commitment to story or quality were all about bad things happening to Loríen.

Because writers have to write, even if they've made bullshit nonsense declarations about how they've given it up, a story idea did eventually coalesce out of all of these snippets. And because of where I was, the story was dark. The finished product was horrible, but it was genuine – a savage cry of pain from someone who believed she had no right to it.

Fast forward ten years. Now it's 2007. I'm still living in that hell of my own making, but it's different because I'm ten years older and time does change things, for better or worse. Now I'm working a crappy retail job and it's killing me. To save my sanity, one day, I pull some blank receipt paper out of the cash register and in tiny, cramped letters I start scribbling some scenes that aren't supposed to be part of anything. They're just junk for my brain, something to keep me alive. Because they're not for anything real, I don't worry about them being any good or fitting within whatever other arbitrary writing rules I have for myself. At night, while the household is asleep, I transfer the cramped letters from cash register paper to computer file.

After a while, I realize they are actually starting to make a coherent story, but it's not canon, I tell myself. It's just some cracky Asrellion fanfiction. Just some mindless entertainment. I keep giving myself permission to tell a different kind of story from whatever I imagine canon to be.

By the time I leave that crappy retail job, I find that in my time there I've managed to scribble onto bits and pieces of receipt paper what amounts to roughly twenty typed pages of... something.

Then I realize that what I have on my hands isn't just something, it's the seed of a new version of Book 2. One that actually has something to say besides screaming in wordless agony. The only problem is, this new book that I can see laid out before me is far too good for the terrible most-recent draft of Book 1 that would precede it.

Then I realize that I'm going to have to write this book, which means that I'm also going to have to rewrite the first book in the series in order to lay the necessary groundwork.

That's the story of how I came to begin my ground-up re-imagining of Mornnovin in 2008.

It turns out to be a good thing that I took the time to do that first, because I wouldn't have been ready then to tell the story that I ultimately had in me in 2016 when I wrote Trajelon over the course of six intense months. By then, I had escaped Hell. By then, I was safe. By then, I had some perspective on what it is not just to live through but to survive trauma and depression.

The first incarnation of Trajelon was what I needed it to be when I screamed it up, all those years ago. It was catharsis. I don't blame it for its darkness or its ugliness any more than you would blame a post-surgical scar for its raw appearance. This iteration of Trajelon is what it needed to be. Almost Athena-like, it sprang fully-formed from the brain of its creator. And it's no longer a cry of suffering. It's... a meditation on living with the suffering that inevitably comes along with the triumphs we experience in life. Living with, enduring, growing from. Learning to discard where possible. Drawing into our identity and building off of where necessary.

No doubt this is scary territory for some readers, but that's exactly why I think it's so important to tell these stories. They can't all be about glorious victories on the field of battle. There are more shades to the spectrum of the human (elven?) experience. I so wish this book had existed at a time when I could have drawn strength from it. Now I no longer need to draw on that kind of strength, but others do. I know they do.

So maybe this was a big old heavy update for a Friday evening, but I hope you don't mind the candor. This book is very personal for me, as you now understand, and that would have become clear anyway as soon as you read it. Because I think that's actually its truest and purest strength, I wanted to be up front about it in this fundraiser. I am pitching to you a fantasy novel written by a survivor of abuse, trauma, and depression written for survivors of abuse, trauma, and depression.

If you, like I do, think that's an important thing to have exist in the world, please help me get the word out and bring it into reality.

And thank you for letting me get real.

Help fund TRAJELON on Kickstarter.

#depression #trauma #abuse #fiction for survivors #fantasy #fantasy fiction #elves #writing #indie author #indie publisher #fundraiser #kickstarter #mornnovin #trajelon #asrellion #alyssa marie bethancourt

[leonawriter]

The Rest That’s Still Unwritten - pt. 2 (Of Hats and Bandages)

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Characters: Dazai, Chuuya

Summary: Dazai wakes up from flying through half a forest, and Chuuya sees something he shouldn't have. Things go from there. 

Notes: Follow-up to part one featuring Book!Dazai, and that should really be read first. Warnings apply for Dazai-typical suicide references. Can be taken as pre-relationship or gen. 

...

Dazai is still preoccupied with the sensation of air burning back into his lungs, too preoccupied at first to notice the way that being thrown back like that through the trees that he could still remember catching at his arms and legs had affected him.

He groans, a hand reaching (painfully, and oh but he hates this, because he hadn't planned on being thrown through the forest like that again any time soon) for his forehead, thankful that there isn't any sign of bleeding coming from his head, or having come from there at all.

(His neck hurts, he thinks, and ah, so that's what did it. It's a statement of fact, and a little bit disappointed at that, that it didn't work, but then again he supposes there are still things to do, the story isn't over yet.)

He hears a sharp inhale of breath, and he tenses, because maybe Chuuya already knows about the fact that he can't stay dead, but that doesn't mean he enjoys someone being that close to the truth of who (what) he is.

He's ready to put the masks back on, wave in Chuuya's face and make a nuisance of himself, when-

"Dazai," he hears Chuuya say, in the exact same low tone that's threatening not to stay level as he'd heard the first time Chuuya had seen him die and come back to life, "what the fuck?"

And that's familiar, too.

Dazai's hand drops from his face, and it's then that he realise that he can feel air touching directly onto his skin, instead of having the constant barrier of bandages wrapped around his arm, the tug of one frayed end just coming loose from where it was held making it obvious that one of the tree branches must have caught the wrappings and pulled it loose, perhaps even causing his (temporary) death.

He looks up at Chuuya, from the ground, because apparently Chuuya had been the one to get him down, had been about to cut that last bit of bandage free, when he'd seen-

Chuuya had seen-

The world slows down and in an instant, possibilities lay themselves before him, all sorts of potentials for how this might play out, and perhaps once he might not have been afraid, but Dazai is just as much a part of the story now as anyone else, carried along on the pull of its ebbs and flows, and whatever Chuuya chooses-

Whatever he chooses to do, to say, who to go to, Dazai can't stop, can't change, can't-

"That's not- those aren't just scars, that's ink."

-control

"I'd say 'that's some fucked up tattoos you've got there', but they're moving, and... the hell."

anything-

"Dazai?" Chuuya had used that tone before. Each time he had, someone had wound up half dead. "Dazai... why can I see what I'm saying on your arm?"

-at all.

He can't take back what Chuuya's seen. He can only grab at the frayed end of the cut bandage, and hastily wind it back around his arm. He doesn't say a word. Not until he's satisfied that he's properly covered up once more.

And then, expression as blank as one of Kunikida-kun's unused sheets of notebook paper, he turns to meet Chuuya's eyes.

"Why do you think you saw what you saw, Chuuya?'

The smaller man, his ex-partner, huffed and looked away. They'd been on the same side, once, and now they weren't, but at the same time... could he really be said to be on anyone's side, given that he was what he was?

"Hell if I know. Why else would I be asking you, dimwit? The only thing I can think of is that damn Book shit, and there's no way-" Chuuya's eyes narrow, and he looks back. "That thing's stronger than any human ability. Did it do something to you?"

"No," Dazai says, because it's the truth.

The possibilities are narrowing down, which makes focusing on the one that he's living through that much simpler, and less headache-inducing.

Chuuya is still mafia, one of the last ones suggests, loyal to Mori, not you, and even if one doesn't know the full truth about the Book the truth about Dazai's link to it would be enough to override Mori's willingness to simply let him be. It would only take a single misplaced word....

The possibility fades into crumpled up draft paper, and the simple fact that it does causes Dazai to take a sharp breath, and when Chuuya looks at him, a dozen more possibilities are discarded, thrown away.

"You aren't going to tell Mori you saw that," he says, and although it comes out flatly, part of that is because he can barely breathe for not knowing what to do with this information.

"Only because I don't even know what the hell that was," Chuuya says, and sits down hard on the ground in front of him. "Fuck, Dazai. Anything else you wanna... I dunno. Maybe it'd explain a lot if you were somehow the human version of that book. You've both got messed up abilities and you always get everyone around you into trouble."

Dazai closes his eyes. The buzzing in his head from the branching off directions that things could go in quieting down by the second.

"You're supposed to laugh, you know." Instead, a sigh is what escapes him. "Dazai."

"Maybe I'm still concussed from being thrown through a forest."

"You're not concussed."

"But I could be."

"I've seen you concussed, idiot."

He finds himself smiling, remembering having been knocked unconscious and kept awake by an increasingly annoyed Chuuya by order of Mori. He himself hadn't been all that happy about it - the idea was, after all, that if one fell asleep while concussed, then they might never wake up.

The silence stretches, for a while, and although it's now silent in Dazai's head, it's no less comforting. 

Eventually, Chuuya breaks the impasse by snorting, and then, a bitter sort of laugh.

"If you were some human Book... you mind telling me the fuck you thought you were up to a few months ago? Those Detective Agency friends of yours were being hunted down, you got yourself arrested, and I fucking lost people, you bastard-"

Dazai's eyes darkened, and he took ahold of the loose piece of bandage with his other hand. There's still an uncomfortable sensation of looseness there, which he can't do anything about until he can get around to fixing up his entire arm again. It truly is a pain.

"I couldn't control that," he says, absently. Or perhaps, not so much absently, as that he felt that he himself was absent, only hearing himself speak as if from a distance. Chuuya is still staring at him, eyes full of fire. Trying to pull him back down to earth. There's something else in them, too, which he can't put a name to yet, which flashes from the moment he admits that Chuuya's at one point joking suggestion was right. "We're two halves of one whole, after all. The Book, which is written in, that can change the story..."

"...and you," Chuuya finishes, flatly. Which sounds wrong wrong wrong, because Chuuya is never flat. He is short and he is angry and he always has had the best reactions, and none of the ones that Dazai likes (which are most of them) are flat.

He nods, however, with a smile.

"And me," he says, confirming the truth. "I'm what happened when the story in the pages of the Book came alive. Did you know, an author can create a set of characters, traits, ideas... and yet, it is much like expecting a pack of stray dogs to always do as they're asked, if they want to keep a certain storyline on track. Much like anyone, they do as they please." Much like people who aren't fictional, lies unsaid. Unspoken. But if if he looked under the bandages, he isn't completely sure that it lies unwritten. From the disquiet on Chuuya's face, he thinks that despite his partner's comparative shortcomings in the mental intelligence department, he can guess. Probably because he knew Dazai. Dazai, who with dark eyes and numb curiosity, tilts his head. "Do you hate me, Chuuya?"

Chuuya laughs, not looking in Dazai's eyes anymore.

"I've always hated you, dimwit." Ah, of course. And, no one liked to know that their story had been set in stone. That there was someone to blame for everything going wrong. In this case, Dazai himself was the closest any in this world had to that person. "I hate you for a hell of a lot of reasons. But..." Chuuya sounded - tired. Dazai closed his eyes, feeling the decision coming on. "Hating you for this would make me feel like a fucking hypocrite, open-book-dumbass."

His eyes fly open again, and now he's staring, looking at Chuuya like he's never seen him before, because he'd expected to be blamed for all of Chuuya's problems, for knowing or being able to know, and maybe that will still come later, but right now all he's able to do is laugh.

He'd spent all this time comparing the two of them in his mind, and at the very point that it became relevant, it was Chuuya who had the thought come to mind first.

"You're really weird, you know that," Chuuya's saying, but now that he's looking Dazai can see his mouth twitch, meaning that Chuuya's trying not to laugh too-

And then the dam breaks, and it's the two of them, two people who aren't even really people at all, just trying to be as human as possible with what they had, and finally, finally, seeing each other and recognising that.

It's a while before Dazai feels like moving again, and when he does he nearly falls flat on his face. Nearly, because he falls onto Chuuya instead. 

"Chuuya... I think I twisted my ankle..." He makes a face. "I twisted my ankle and I need new bandages," he continues with a whine. "The trees stole some, and you helped them, so you owe me now."

"I should deck you and drag you back unconscious just for that," Chuuya says as he drags him upright again, cursing the way Dazai's ability (and although it was, it was also his nature, whether he liked the implications of that or not) made it impossible for Chuuya's own ability to make this any easier. "How'd you even get this far without someone seeing that, anyway?"

"I usually have enough warning to be able to hide it."

"Huh."

"But, it isn't comfortable, so I prefer not to have to."

It's hard not to stare at the site of the destruction that must have occurred after he'd been thrown through the forest (and died, temporarily), and Chuuya had gone to town. It's magnificent, truly, the way that there were small craters and broken trees simply from Chuuya using his ability without any need for Corruption.

The one they'd been fighting was taken care of, of course. Chuuya wouldn't have spent so long out of the battle, even with what had happened.

"...Oi, Dazai." He makes a sound to show that he'd heard, that he was listening, even though he wasn't about to stop watching where his feet were going. "This means you don't get to call me 'hatrack' from now on, got it?"

He blinks, and laughs. He still hurts all over, but it's worth it.

"Ha... only if you stop calling me the 'extra-stuff-that-comes-with-the-bandages'."

"Ugh." A beat. They both knew how likely either of those things were. As in, not at all. "You've got shitty coping mechanisms." Which, to be fair, Chuuya has known for quite some time now. "And no, that's not an invitation to start taking my hats, damn it!"

...Shame, Dazai thinks to himself, Chuuya's hats would probably look good on me.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd stuff #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #dazai is the book au #soukoku #I mean it's me and I ship it so...