i just don't get as satisfied with it as i do with fanfics


A/N: This is a little birthday fic for the Choi Twins! I also have it posted on Ao3 and ff.net if you want to read it there. Thanks, and I hope you like it~ 

TW: Heavy themes of child abuse in the first half

Saeyoung waited until he heard the droning snore of his drunk mother before even daring to crack open one eyelid. He propped himself up on his elbows. They ached against the hardwood floors, but he ignored it and strained his ear.

Another snore.

He released a short breath before pushing himself onto his feet. Using his thick socks as a buffer, he carefully maneuvered his way past his mother’s resting place on her mattress. He paused and looked behind at it. He wondered what it would feel like to sleep on one. Would it be warmer than the sheet he slept on at night? Or maybe she stayed warm because of the fluffy looking blanket.

He shook the fantasy from his mind and proceeded to his destination. He had spent weeks preparing for this—memorizing where the floor bent, where it creaked, and where it was slippery enough to glide over instead of step on. Finally, he made it to the closet.

He cringed when the door let out a high-pitched squeak, but it didn’t seem to disturb his mother. He entered the closet, leaving it slightly open so the moonlight could guide his way. “Saeran,” he called softly.

There was no response. Saeyoung creeped forward, hands outstretched. His fingers brushed through a scruff of hair. He kicked the door open a little more so he could see his brother. Saeran didn’t stir from the contact. His head remained leaning against his slouched shoulder, his mouth a little ajar.

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anonymous asked:

U don't have to do this if u don't want but scenario: coran has been working super hard but he been getting sick lately and keeps overworking himself until when he in the middle of cleaning the lions he full on klonks out. the lions freak out bc they've known him for so long and HE KLONK ON THE FLOOR. the paladins find him bc the lions are basically screaming in their minds "SOS" an they take care of him and remind him to take care of himself and how much he means to th team and comfort

Bio-scanners were registering a higher-than-normal body temperature.

No problem, really. He added a few crushed iquilu roots to his morning brew to act as a natural coolant, then went about his business as normal. The star map updates weren’t going to wait, after all.

He munched on a few more as he ate his lunch while working on the cleaning droids for the third time that week. He was going to have to talk to the others when they got back from planetside about taking decontamination more seriously. Whatever it was that was clogging the vents of the poor little bots, he was getting tired of finding it.

After he sent the last droid toodling on its way, he checked his bio-signature again. Hm, still running warm. Perhaps that fever he’d picked up two moons ago on Quukam had come back.

Well, there was nothing to be done for it. He had far too much to do. He’d just have to filch some more roots from the kitchens on his way to his next task.

Chewing absently, he finished reconnecting the last of the lights in the hallway, and stood back, satisfied, as the full set of emergencies flashed on, then powered back off. 

One more chore down.

He turned on his heel, then lurched to the side as the floor suddenly rolled under him, and grabbed onto the doorframe to keep from pitching face-first into the wall. Blinking, he held on tight and stayed very still until his vision swam back into focus.

Well, then.

He opened the bio-scanner screen again, then sighed. 

He really didn’t have time for this.

Red rumbled at him as he worked a dent out of one of her shoulder panels, and he turned off the torch, tapping the head against the metal. “Don’t you lot start with me,” he warned. “Especially not you. I know full well your paladin doesn’t get up here and do this.”

More rumbling.

“I am fully aware of my physical condition, thank you. But until we have a larger crew, I will just have to make do.”

A louder rumble, this time from Yellow.

“I will sleep when I’m done, and no-”

His voice failed him when his vision did, and his feet slid away from where they’d been bracing against Red. Pain lanced through his shoulder and head as the construction harness crashed into the Lion’s side.

He only vaguely heard the Lions roaring in alarm as consciousness left him.

Awareness came back to him very slowly, black washing to grey, and then colors slowly leaking in through blurry eyes.

He was in a cryo chamber.

The last place he’d ever wanted to be again. 

Hating how slow his limbs were to respond, he lifted his hands and shoved against the glass, gratified when it opened with a hiss to let him free. Before he could stumble out, however, hands caught him from both sides, and the worried faces of Shiro and Allura swam into view for a brief moment, then she threw her arms around him, squeezing tight.

“Don’t you ever, ever do that again,” she said, half growl and half sob.

“What?” Coran asked, still somewhat dazed.

“Can’t… really explain it, but we all heard the lions screaming down planetside,” Shiro said, face pale with worry.

“They said you’d passed out while working on them and if we didn’t get up here pronto, you were gonna fall and die,” Hunk added from the chair he’d apparently been keeping a sleeping vigil in, judging by the blanket.

There were a lot of pillows and blankets in the room.

“What were you thinking?” Allura asked, finally easing up her grip on him.

Coran sighed and looked away uncomfortably, raking a hand through his hair. “Someone has to keep this place running while you lot are off doing the fighting.”

“So it’s okay to just push yourself to death?”

He found he didn’t have an answer for that.

“You’re up!” Another small body barreled into his midsection, and when he’d gotten his breath back, he looked down to find Pidge had joined in the squeezing. “Holy crap, don’t scare us like that again!”

Coran hesitated, mind a muddle of conflicting thoughts. Thankfully, Hunk saved him with an arm slung around his shoulders, guiding them all towards the door. “Y’know, I bet all this will go down a lot easier after our man has had some nice soup. Amma always said soup is the best thing for when you’re sick, and she’s never been wrong before.”

“Alright,” Coran said, letting them pull him along. “Sounds good.”

They could discuss the rest later.

Having just rewatched/reread a ton of Gintama, I am extremely DRUNK on feels. My main OTPs are GinHiji, OkiKagu and TaKamui, so I’ve been searching for fanfics on all of them but… the Gintama Fandom in general is lacking in fanfiction. OkiKagu surprisingly has a fair number of fanfics, but GinHiji and TaKamui? There are like five fics that I’ve found for TaKamui and I only liked two of them. 

So… eh heh yeah SOS guys any recommendations? 

lmao omg i wrote a fanfic of my fanart i am too lame…orz

this is super old like from december omg……anyway here it is

“You know,” he purrs through razor-like teeth, “most people tend to be more appreciative after I save them.”

He’s looking at her with sharp eyes, piercing green watching her every move. It’s like he’s trying to make her laugh. She would—though not for his reasons— but his body being so close to hers is making her skin crawl and, quite frankly, she’d rather smack him.

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anonymous asked:

this might be a weird question but do you have any advice to people trying to get their fanfics/fanart... I don't really want to say "attention" but that's the closest word I can think of. It's just really disappointing to see something you put a lot of effort into get what feels like no one noticing.

1. Draw/write what you like.

2. Post it on the Internet.

3. Hope/pray someone notice it.

Sorry, but that was not completely a joke. This is basically what I do and I don’t ask anything back.

But your question doesn’t sound weird to me at all: I’ve been struggling a lot about that when I was younger and my crappy art/fanfics didn’t get the feedback I wanted. I think I’m still not good enough or generally prepared to answer you properly about this subject, but If you’re asking to me, it can only means that you think my works get the attention you’re talking about, so I’ll try something.

Let me say this: goals will come, but it takes time.

If you’re at the beginning of something (first time putting stuff on the internet - first time producing that stuff) it’s normal you won’t get the “attention” you’re hoping for. The internet, but social medias especially, are a fucking (if you allow me the word) closed chain circle into another. The more people see and share your stuff, the more it goes around. Internet itself is stupid, it cannot judge if your efforts were well spent, it cannot give you a vote/star/rating according to the amount of hours of research, study, pain and LOVE you put in something you create. It simply can’t. So Internet is not your agent. People are. And remember this: you are the first agent of yourself. A good agent knows about people, what they want and look for, and promotes whoever can satisfy them.

I’m not saying that you must write/draw what people wants, NO, I MEAN, not all the time, at least, but you have to know that this is how the world goes right now.  If you can’t count on others, count on yourself and those close ones you have around: friends, family. Share your work with them, ask for impressions, suggestions. Confrontation is at the base of anything good in this crazy world.

For example, I ask my mom a lot about my art: “Hey mom! Is this feet correct or I better to fix it?” - “Definitely.” - “Definitely what?” - “It looks like a banana.” - “Okay.”

Another example: “Hey mom! Is it cute that two super soldiers trained to kill mad robots were actually in love?” - “Is one of them blond?” - “Yay.” - “Better they marry before one of them dies.” (RIGHT IN THE FEELS)

Another one, more recent: “Hey Sara! ( @replica-004 ) In my next comic Jack has Reaper’s shotgun and he shots at him with it.” - “But Reaper’s guns can evaporate.” - “… Freaking cool, sis. Our fellow r76 fans will love this.”

And I could say more.

Basically, what I’m trying to say here is that when I create, I try to do not create completely alone. This is the best advice I can give you, if you want your art/fanfics to be more… ok, let’s use a different word: what about “popular”?

GOD, I really hate this word, but it kinda reminds me of the word “popolo” (it) aka “people” and it reminds me that whatever I do, I don’t do that only for myself. Never. The moment it goes on the internet, it belongs to others and others have the right to earn fun from what I do as much as I earn fun creating it.

Aaaaah! I hope this will help you find your way into the world, kid.
I still haven’t find mine.

Sorry for the long answer. I am in the chatty mood.

Fanfic: Build a Wall Between Us 1/2

Final Fantasy XV
Cor Leonis/Prompto Argentum (ship name?)
SFW -> vague references to masturbation
3,791 words

Prompto had never expected that his ill-advised crush on the Marshal would be so…enduring. Written for @jyonzu

(Yes there’s an age gap, no nothing happens at all until Prompto is 25 and well and truly able to make his own decisions, no I don’t want to hear it)

Part 2

When Prompto was fifteen, he met the Marshal for the first time.

It was impossible to be friends with a prince without meeting all manner of people who could kill him ten ways with their bare hands, but Cor the Immortal had easily been the most intimidating of the lot. Even Gladiolus, despite being taller and broader and more wild looking than Cor, had unfrozen pretty quickly around Prompto once he’d decided that Prompto wasn’t only hanging around to take advantage of Noctis.

Cor, though…

Prompto was entirely certain that Cor couldn’t do anything except frown, and he radiated the kind of dangerous strength that had Prompto cowering away from him. Their first meeting had mostly consisted of Cor glaring at Prompto while he stuttered through an attempted introduction, with Noctis laughing at him in the background the whole time.

Once Cor had disappeared off again to go do whatever terrifying things he did when he wasn’t intimidating teenagers, Noctis had assured Prompto that he wasn’t really as scary as he seemed. Prompto was pretty suspicious of that claim, considering that there was a fair bit of difference between the future King of Lucis and a random teenager from a not terrific part of Insomnia. Of course Cor wasn’t going to be as terrifying to Noctis as he was to everyone else.

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oh! i forgot to post about this!! a few days ago my AO3 account hit (and then quickly passed) 1500 subscribers!!! THANK YOU SO DAMN MUCH!! I hope I continue to make whatever it is you’re hoping or expecting of me ♥

(I think new people are finding me through both Of Shampoo and Fruit Flies and Welcome All Winchesters right now, but I don’t know how or why. someone enlighten me?? whO SENT YOU) (only thing they have in common is asexual-spectrum Cas, if that narrows it down? but they’re very different ends of the spectrum so idk)

and since we’re on the subject, i have a new fic coming soon!! (well, an old one from 2014 that i resurrected, and i rewrote the second half). it’s currently 82k and “finished” but i’m trying to FINISH-finish it, which means 5 more scenes, editing, then betaing. the plan is to RELEASE IT INTO THE WORLD by the end of june. (it’s a commission for @cassammydean​, and the plan is to launch my patreon right after that fic. hopefully.) it’s called What We Ache For.

one more thing, since i’m feeling sentimental – you guys. YOU GUYS. you leave the best comments?? THE BEST. nearly every single day you remind me how important the themes in my stories are, how much the inclusion of a simple concept can change something for someone who reads my fics.

making someone cry with a story used to be a gleeful experience for me, satisfying because i wrote something powerful. now, after years of helping people kind of… release their feelings? it’s powerful in a whole different way, i don’t know how to explain it. but it means so much to me, not only as a writer, but as a person. every day you make me desperate to be a kinder person, and devote myself not just to my stories, not just the characters, but you.

i know a little about a lot of you. but the small facts i do know are life-changing in the masses. no, this isn’t directly relevant to my subscriber count - it’s just something i think about every day, more so recently as my faith wanes in my newer writing, and i never found the right way to just say it. i get obsessed and upset about people not leaving as many kudos as they used to. but almost every day someone reminds me why i really do this, why i really love it. it’s the comments. not the kudos. it’s the secrets you tell me, the way whatever spilled from my heart can change your mind, and help you figure out things you never understood about yourself, and the tears you shed because you feel some part of yourself aching when you read a certain combination of words.

anyway, thank you. i just really, really love you all.

especially you.

yes, you. ♥


Arc-V AU where ¾ bracelet girls said ‘fuck it’ and joined Zarc because after all the shit they’ve been through I would have quit

Idk where this came from but the idea of the girls using the dragons is really appealing to me and like for some reason I really like ‘protags give up and fall into darkness’  trope lol.

Also I incorporated the “Yuu boys are actually their dragons” theory cause I love it.

Yuzu runs as fast as her tired legs will let her. The once beautiful ocean-sided town in the Fusion dimension is now in shambles and not a single soul besides Yuzu can be found. With the town deserted the only sounds that can be heard are Yuzu’s harsh breathing, her steps against the ruined ground, and the three metal bracelets hooked onto her belt loop that cling every time she takes a step.

She’s so tired. The remaining Lancers are nowhere to be found and each day Zarc’s reign expands further and further throughout the dimension.

Maybe I should just stop fighting. Just like….

Yuzu shakes her head.

No I can’t. I have to save them. All of them.

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the-winged-wolf-bran-stark  asked:

So since you're going through his other works... how does GRRM do endings? Like, what do you expect from ASOIAF's overall ending based on how he ends other works in terms of tone and such? And, well, is he good at them? I know some authors are said to be iffy at endings (I usually see this directed at Stephen King, though I don't know if it's true and ymmv).

GRRM’s endings are like sitting in a blackened room, and someone suddenly strikes a match. It’s such a tiny light, but amidst all that blackness, it’s precious. Which is to say, his endings are dark, my friend

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Falling Stars – Part 2

Originally based on this imagine from imaginexhobbit. Part one is here. You can also read it on AO3.

Characters: Reader, Dwalin, Balin, Fili, Kili, Thorin, Nori, Bofur, Gandalf, Radagast, the company
Location: A forest along the quest, after trolls, before Rivendell
Warnings: FLUFF. Danger, cursing, awkward!heroic!Dwalin, oblivious!modern!Reader
Word Count: 4014

Okay. This story straight up exploded. Hope you guys like Dwalin because there’s a ton more. :D

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anonymous asked:

have you considered a soulmate au where every lie your soulmate tells appears on your body? (If you can do it for andreil then that would be great, but if not then i don't mind)

Okay, this got pretty long and it’s some kind of love child between fanfic and headcanon and was cracky in my head (all I wanted was Andrew covered in millions of tiny ‘I’m fine’s’ because that image is hilarious to me) but it turned out much more serious than expected and it was really fun, like wth.

Anyway, all I can think of is Andrew waking up one morning to find the words ‘I’m fine’ written on him. And he shrugs it of, because what does it matter to him.

But then they keep on coming. Every passing day he ends up with more and more lies, the most common of which is ‘I’m fine’ and he hasn’t even met his soulmate yet he already hates him, he hates him, he hates him, because his soulmate is a liar. And he’s had enough of liars.

(Strangest of all is the first time he wakes up to find a name written among the lies, barely discernible among his over-crammed skin).

The years pass by and Andrew meets Aaron, finally escapes Drake and kills his mother. Aaron’s own skin is clear of lies, a blank slate where Andrew’s is more letters than skin.

(It nearly blew it when he killed Tilda. If she hadn’t been so inebriated then she would have realized she wasn’t Aaron).

He made a deal with Aaron, one the other agreed to with the reluctance of a man signing his life away, and Andrew wasn’t surprised- they weren’t close. Luther Hemmick took them in and with Luther came Nicky, the cousin whose skin was clear and yet looked like he was fighting himself. It was interesting to note that in contrast to their son, the parents were covered in ink the same why their smiles seemed fake.

(That should have been a warning enough, and yet Andrew hadn’t had many adults in his life who hadn’t fucked him over. He told Luther about Drake, not expecting anything from the man but wondering whether this might be the first time an adult proved helpful.

His expectations were too high even then, it seemed).

Swearing his parents weren’t doing a good job at it, Nicky took custody of them and Andrew was (secretly, he’d never say it out loud) glad of it. Nicky didn’t expect anything, he didn’t have ulterior motives- he just lived and tried hard to get the best he could from his lot. Things weren’t perfect, between the three of them, not in any way, but they were good.

(Then everything went to hell and he was forced to be on pills twenty four/seven. He hated it, the feeling of forced mania and knowing that it wasn’t his emotions- that they’d violated even his very mind, now.

He wondered what his soulmates skin looked like now- would these show up as lies?).

Wymack showed up shortly after and they were scripted into the Foxes. The people there were little more than a blip on his radar (they were interesting, perhaps, but he didn’t care. All that mattered were those he called His), but Walker caught his interest. Walker, the girl whose skin was almost as covered full of lies as his own, who taught him how to use a knife, who became someone he trusted. Someone he was willing to call a friend.

(She never mentioned who her soulmate was, but he wasn’t blind even if he was always high. He saw the way she looked at Reynolds, the woman who determinedly covered every inch of her skin in make-up so no hint of a soul mark could be seen.

He laughed, but the feeling wasn’t his).

For a while, it was just that- the three of them and the upperclassmen clashing at every corner, the rare moment of sobriety he coveted when he played (it was the only reason he kept at it, for that brief taste of freedom), but then Kevin Day came with his hand broken and asked for protection, for a deal (because that’s what people always come for. Something they need).

Andrew agreed and three moved to four. He regretted it a little bit, sometimes, as he wasn’t aware that protection had meant full time babysitter to a man who spent every waking minute trying to convince him to play exy, but he’d made a deal and he stuck to it.

(He wouldn’t become like them. He wouldn’t lie).

And then the name Neil Josten appeared on his skin. He didn’t think much about it until a few months later when Kevin dragged him to recruit a striker. All he saw of his soulmate were brown eyes (a lie), black hair (a lie) and clear skin (a lie, all of it lies), before he drove the racquet into his gut and the boy crumpled to the ground.

(He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t satisfying to finally hit the reason his skin was so covered in words, to hit the person who he was chained to. And yet, when the boy glared at him with fire in his eyes, Andrew felt like it may be interesting to peel apart the walking lie that was Neil Josten.

He did have a map painted on to his skin, after all. He would be a fool not to use it).

And yet, as he unravels the liar that is Neil Josten, something changes. Something forms that shouldn’t have, that shouldn’t have been able to form because he’s long stopped caring, but it’s there and it’s unwanted- it’s a side effect. A hallucination of feelings that the drugs are forcing on him.

And yet, Neil Josten refused to be dismissed. He pushed and pushed, trying to force something from Andrew, yet he never crossed the line. When he was told to stop, he stopped. He showed concern for Andrew and it wasn’t a lie, because nothing sprouted on his skin, and Andrew hated it.

(He hated that the more he learned about him, the harder it was to look away).

Then Proust happened and he came back sober, his skin weighed down by scars and lies, expecting it to be the end. Neil came back with a four on his face and Andrew wondered why those around him were self-sacrificing idiots.

(He didn’t hope. Hope wasn’t something he believed in).

Then Roland- stupid, nosy, interfering Roland- threw him under the bus and Neil confronted him. He didn’t lie, didn’t cut the truth- and yet Neil looked at him like he’d seen God and it made something curdle in his gut, because it wasn’t supposed to be real. It was supposed to be a delusion.

(He said ‘I hate you,’ and words blossomed on Neil’s skin).

And so they began to kiss, and it was something Andrew liked (the ‘yes or no,’ the contact, the way it let him feel human, for a moment. The way he was able to trust). But then comes the game, the request for the deal to be withdrawn, the ‘thank you, you were amazing,’ and Neil smiles at him in a way that he knows something is wrong, his instincts scream at him to not let go, but no words form on his skin, there was no lies, so he tries not to think of it.

Then the riot happens and all that remains is a cell phone and a bag. And in that moment he had never felt so powerless, so weak and frustrated as he was unable to do anything, to help as Neil was snatched from his grasp.

(He hated him, he hated him, he hated him).

Kevin knew something- of course he did- and yet he refused to share, too terrified as he chanted that ‘he’s dead, he’s dead.’ In that moment, Andrew’s anger exploded and he lunged at Kevin, he strangled him, he choked the words out of him because he was fed up of the lies.

(It took three people to drag him off of him, but it did the job. Kevin spilled everything about Neil- about Nathaniel- and Andrew’s skin prickled with every word.

Of course he’d end up with a soulmate who had more issues than he did height).

A few days passed- long days with no hint of Neil and a tension that was nearly suffocating- before the FBI called and they broke several speed limits rushing to him. And yet, when they arrived, the bloody FBI wouldn’t let them see him. They dithered and whined, citing every excuse they could think of as the foxes neared the end of their patience.

(Andrew noted that one thing that would unite them, it seemed, was their care for Neil. He tried to attack the first member who muttered-

“I don’t see why we’re wasting our time giving visitor privelleges to the son of a murderer.”

-only to be stopped and handcuffed to Wymack in an attempt to control him. All of the members were demanding at once whilst Reynolds kept up a steady stream of blackmail and bribery that he would have been impressed by if he wasn’t ready to bring out his knives).

When the door finally opened and Neil walked in, Andrew felt the relief wash over him in a wave. Then the face looked at him with new scars in place and he had to fight not to kill someone.The room around them was loud and Wymack was still close by, dragged there by the chain on their wrists, but all Andrew awareness was on Neil’s voice and the anger, the relief, the frustration that prickled in his lungs at every word, every meaning.

(He’d almost lost him and he doesn’t know how to handle that understanding).

Later, when they’re in the car, Neil asks him, “Can I really be Neil again?”

And for a moment, he thinks about the lie engraved on his skin, the existence built on a lie, and tells him, “I told Neil to stay. Leave Nathaniel buried in Baltimore.”

(At some point, it faded from his skin. Somewhere along the line, Neil Josten stopped being a lie.

There still remains thousands of falsehoods to be picked out from the chaos on his skin, but he doesn’t care. They have the rest of their lives to do it, after all).

Us, As Told by Other People

Written for the 28+ Phandom Meetup, this fic grew too long for me to finish in time. But here is it. 

(~8k, pining, smut, getting together, friends to lovers) | [AO3 Link]

Big shoutout to @killingmeitsso2yearsago​ and @adorkablephil​ for listening to me rabbit on about this one. And to @cosmicphandom2k16​ for hosting the meet up that inspired me to write this. 

Summary: People make a lot of assumptions about Dan and Phil, but what happens when Dan starts believing some of them. You can’t actually ship yourself with your best friend, can you? 

Or: the five times Dan was guilty of over-thinking things, and the one time he wasn’t.

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Back to square one Pt.7 | A Vkook FF

Originally posted by kawaiiwangg

Me in the back: KISS ALREADY

Taehyung p.o.v.

I wake up, Jungkook his body wrapped around mine, keeping me close to his body. The sight of him taking care of me only made me feel more upset. I had been strong for so long, held back so many tears. But yesterday i just broke. I wasn’t going to go back, at least not for the weekend. My foster parents thought i was staying at Baekhyun his place, and school thought i left sick. Baekhyun had no idea where i was, well i’m sure he had an idea, i was just too scared to read his texts.

“Tae, close the window will you,” Jungkook groans, still half asleep.

I do as he asks me, getting up from the comfortable and warm position i was in. A sigh leaves my lips as i take a second to stare outside, the sun was shining, and there were barely any clouds.

“It’s ten AM kook, how much longer do you want to stay in bed,” I ask him, as i sit back down on the bed.

“As long as it will take you to drag me downstairs.”

I chuckle at his reaction, building up some courage to open the texts Baekhyun had send me.

Baekhyun: Why weren’t you in math class?
Baekhyun: Where did you go?
Baekhyun: Taehyung awnswer me!
Baekhyun: Did you go with him?
Baekhyun: Whore… i can’t believe you..
Baekhyun: You aren’t just going to run away from me like this!
Baekhyun: Stop ignoring me! Where are you!

I put away my phone again, sensing Jungkook looking over my shoulder.

“You aren’t going to reply to that selfish cunt?” He laughs, resting his chin in my neck.

“He’ll only get angrier,” I whisper, turning myself around.

“Just break up with him,” Jungkook states, taking my phone away from me.

“I can’t.”

“That wasn’t a question, i’ll do it if you won’t.”

“Jungkook don’t get me into more trouble than i already am!” I groan, trying to grasp my phone back.

But before i know it Jungkook had already unlocked it and was typing something, looking satisfied with himself. I wasn’t going to win from him anyways, so fighting him was pointless.

“Send!” He proudly smiles, handing me back my phone before disapearing into the bathroom.

I open the chat, pressing my lips together in anger as i read the message.

Taehyung: I can’t be with someone like you, we have to break up. Don’t stop me, i have already made my decision.

As soon as i finish reading i get a response, making me fear him even more.

Baekhyun: You can’t run away from me, i own you remember.

“Let me be happy, you asshole!” I exclaim, throwing my phone across the room.

Shocked Jungkook walks in the room again, his toothbrush still in his mouth. I curl myself up, ashamed of my sudden action. He walks over to me, removing his toothbrush from his mouth. While taking the bottle of water on the nightstand and downing the last bit that was in it he sits down next to me.

“I’m going to make you happy again,” he smiles, wiping the toothpaste that was smeared around his mouth away.

“Can’t we just run away together?”

“Tae, We don’t have a car. We don’t have any money, we can’t just run away.”

“Party pooper,” I say, looking down at my hands.

“You can come over as much as you want, and when we both finish school we can figure something out together. I realised that i can’t keep you here for myself but i will still try to protect you.” He brushes his fingers over my bruised arm, pouting at the sight of it. “If he hurts you again i am going to hurt him.”

A silence follows, the both of us avoiding the awkward eye contact.

“You kept the letter,” I whisper, changing the subject as i look around his room.

“Why wouldn’t i have kept it?” He asks.

“Because it was so fucking gay, i confessed my feelings for you. If i was you i would feel so weird,” i reply, feeling myself burning up.

“It’s cool, if i was you i’d fall in love with me too,” He jokes.

“You’re such a cocky asshole.”

Hiya everyone!

I’ve had a lot of time to write recently and I may or may not have written the next 5 chapters, so to keep these chapters coming out on a regular basis, I figured now was as good of a time as any to post chapter 5…A large portion of this chapter was initially part of my chapter 4 update, but I decided to split it up to prevent chapter 4 from being like 10,000 words lol. Luckily, I was able to get this chapter back down under my 3,000 words or less goal (I feel like that’s a decent length, but if you prefer longer chapters let me know and maybe I won’t be as strict on myself with that goal.)

So picking up where my last post left off, Rae is overwhelmed by her recent realization that Finn could be reciprocating some of her romantic feelings, so she reaches out to some of her most trusted friends for advice…but will they tell her what she is hoping to hear? This chapter is practically an exact depiction of how I handled this situation not that long ago (and yes, before you ask, I am that annoying when I’m texting friends while freaking out hahaha) and once again most of these texts came straight from the group chat with some of my long-distance friends…

I hope you enjoy this chapter and as always each and every one of you that read, like, reblog, send massages, etc. mean the world to me and help me get off my ass and keep writing regardless of whatever shittiness I’m going through in my life right now, so thank you! ❤️

Click here if you’d like to get caught up on the first 4 chapters! 😁

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Band-aids Don’t Fix Bullet Holes

Prompt: An injured Steve Rogers stumbles into the clinic at closing time.
Reader Gender: Female
Character / Fandom: Steve Rogers / Captain America
Words: 3,150
Warnings: Injuries, blood, kissing [but does that really warrant a warning?], fluff, slight swearing, angst.
A/N: This is a rewrite of a fic by the same name with Dean Winchester. [x]

Originally posted by thatplaidnerd

The first time you met Steve Rogers, he stumbled into the clinic just as you were getting ready to lock up. He was bleeding from the shoulder, cradling his arm against his stomach, and stumbling as if he couldn’t see straight. Which, judging by the amount of blood that was flowing from a gash in his hairline, he probably couldn’t. The sight of a beaten man didn’t frighten you. You had been a nurse for several years now, so you had seen your fair share of wounds and injuries. It was the look in his eyes that made your blood run cold. They were wide enough you could see white, and they darted from side to side. He looked panicked, almost crazed.

“Can you help me?” His voice was sandpaper and gravel.

“Everyone’s gone home. I’m the only one here.” You weren’t exactly sure why you just told a complete stranger that you, a seemingly defenseless woman, were completely alone.

He ground his teeth, grimacing as his knees buckled. He fell hard against the reception counter, sliding it against the tiled floor with a borderline deafening squeal. You jogged around the displaced counter and slid an arm around his waist, pulling him up. It wasn’t easy by any means. He was tall and thick, in a good way, and under the dark jacket and red shirt, he was all muscle. You led the way to the closest exam room, thankful you hadn’t closed the door. Groaning, you flipped on the light and half-drug the injured man over to the exam table. You weighed your options as he dropped to the table and hunched over, gripping his arm against his belly. The closest person with more medical training than you was almost an hour away. The only thing you could do was grab everything you needed for an emergency exam. Thankfully, there were several tables set up for tomorrow.

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degeo-eitux  asked:

I don't wanna get weird or anything but I don't really know anything about you, the author of all this wonderful writing. I know you have a girlfriend, but that's it. Tell us about YOU! :V

Oh my … don’t worry, it’s not weird! I’m just … not all that interesting? :D And also always kinda paranoid that someone I know will be like “wait it’s YOU writing porn on the internet?!” which in turn would mean that they’re reading porn on the internet so … I guess I can risk it this once!

Alright uhm … I’m from Germany, 22 years old.
Just finished my bachelor’s in psychology last fall and then took a semester off to do an internship in the UK (also to be with my gf who lives there). But now I’m back and working towards my master’s in clinical psych and maybe neuro psych, I’m not yet 100% sure about my second focus area.

I like chill things, hanging out with my friends at bars or having game or movie nights. Also pretty big into video games, though I lack the funds atm to get a system that can handle newer games (watch me cry sad tears as I replay the same 10 crappy steam games every day. Also WoW. I kick ass healing. Though I limit my WoW gametime to breaktime at uni and try to stay casual)

What else? Well, I like to write a lot but you all know that :D Reading is great too, mostly fanfic but I’m trying to get back more into books lately.
Uh … I try to make an effort to look and dress cute but I don’t really have a fashion sense and most days I’m lazy and just wear jeans and a random shirt.
My fav food is mom’s lasagna and I love juice with sparkly water.
I’m really claustrophobic and scared of the dark.
I got two amazing older brothers and my parents are working hard to accept the gay.
My fav color is green.
I love candles. Like any candles. Small ones, big ones, nice smelling ones. I burn candles every night.
I genuinely dislike 70% of what I’m writing. But I try to be okay with it and move on instead of striving for perfection. That’s why I stick to shorter things cause it’s easier to just start something new and forget about the thing I didn’t like.
My girlfriend is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
I really enjoy listening to music and have a playlist for every occasion but I don’t play any instruments.
I’m a sub and about as kinky as you’d expect.
I learned English, Latin, French and Spanish in school and forgot everything but English and a tiny bit of Spanish. Trying to learn Portuguese at the moment.

I hope this will satisfy everyone’s curiosity for now :D

Curiosity Killed The...

Summary: While Hinami is getting ready to leave :re, Ayato finds her packing something unusual. He has questions.
Wordcount: 1,100~
Notes: For @lilacflamesss ! The other thing is still coming, but since I’ve never written Hinami or Ayato before, I wanted to do a smaller thing first to get a feel for them. I loved chapter 121, but where was Maris Stella? Here is an attempt to answer that. (No beta yet - it’s one A.M. so we ride or die with keyboard smash.)

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anonymous asked:

Hi I have a question, how do you find the time to write ? Or maybe I should ask more about the energy. Cause when I come back from the uni I'm utterly exhausted with no motivation or energy and I don't write (and if I do I hate what comes out). Help?

Thanks for your question!  Sorry the answer came so late – I accidentally queued instead of scheduling, so it got waaay pushed back…

Originally posted by thegameofnerds

But I commiserate with your problem.  The busier life gets, the less time there is to write – and the less time you spend writing, the less practice you get, so the words start to sound weird and sterile, and then you stress out because you only have 0.4 hours left to write and nothing good is coming out, and then you decide to rest it out and try again tomorrow, but then you’re just falling more and more out of practice…  It’s literal writing hell.  I’m in there with you right now, as a matter of fact.

There are a few different methods out there for dealing with lack of motivation/energy, and while I don’t use or agree with all of them, it’s really up to the individual writer.  As for general tips, I think these are the most important:

  • Sleep.  No matter how much you’ve written (or haven’t written) today, you need to get a good amount of sleep in order to function, both in writing and in other aspects of life.  I know that this is my first sacrifice when I start feeling blocked – when I feel stressed about my lack of writing, I stay up until 5 or 6 in the morning until I’ve written something.  But this is only a short-term solution, and won’t help you to continue to write the next day.  Keeping a writing schedule is all about consistency, and the energy you’re lacking won’t come without sleep.
  • Change your writing time.  You stated in your question that when you come back from class, you’re too tired to write.  My advice would be to shift your schedule!  All writers have certain times or settings that work better for them.  If you can, try going to bed a bit earlier so you can wake up in time to write before class/work.  If that doesn’t work, you could also try taking a nap after class and then writing.  Play around with it and see what works, because if this is the problem, there’s an easy long-term solution for it!
  • Get rid of distractions.  This counts for all things – not just technology.  Put away your groceries.  Do the dishes.  Call and make that doctor’s appointment.  Get other things in order so that when you sit down to write, there’s nothing to worry about, nothing to do, except writing.  The stress of external issues can mentally exhaust you, even when you’re sitting blankly in front of your word document.  Not only that, but the less you’ve managed in your personal life, the more negativity can creep into your head and cause that “I-hate-my-writing-this-is-an-abomination-to-the-inventor-of-words” feeling.  And nobody likes that feeling.
  • Practice positive thinking.  Your energy and motivation, as well as a good chunk of your writing time, is zapped every time you sit at the computer and think, “Wow, this sucks.  What I’m writing right now sucks.”  It’s an easy line of thinking to fall into!  We look at our writing as we’re writing it, and we think of all the things we aren’t doing as well as we want to, and it ruins the whole process.  It takes us out of our scenes!  So whenever you hear that voice in your head saying something negative, SHUT IT DOWN.  Instead, point out something good about what you’ve written.  Literally force yourself to think on the bright side, and your writing process will improve.
  • Consider changing your plot.  If none of the above helps, and you still have no motivation to write, it could be time to look at what you’re writing.  Has your story grown stale?  Are things moving too slowly?  Are your characters two-dimensional or unlikable?  Have you deviated too far from the theme or the plot itself?  Any number of tiny plot problems can kill your motivation before you’ve even started.  So take a half hour and look over the whole plot, top to bottom, until you’re satisfied that there are no plot holes, inconsistencies, or generally lame areas.  If there are, either fix them or make a note to fix them later.  Reconcile the issues so they don’t bog you down.

If none of these ideas help you, feel free to drop me another ask with any of your more specific problems.  I hope you find the problem and get through it!  The world needs your writing :)

If you need advice on writing, fanfiction, or NaNoWriMo, you should maybe ask me!

anonymous asked:

Can you suggest me some Lucifer's fanfiction to read? I don't know if you read but you are active in the tags

I do! But only on ao3 and mostly Deckerstar as ship!

  • There’s No Music in Hell by The_Falcon - This fanfiction in still work in progress and it’s absolutely my favourite!!! The story is so captivating and the characters are so well written! It seems like watching an episode full of everything: angst, fluff, love, fun! It’s just perfect!
  • Kiss it Better by Kirbily - To quote the author “it had all started when Lucifer was injured during an investigation” and ended with the readers happy and satisfied! I feel like I must put Kiss is Better as second favourite fanfiction! It focused on Chloe and Lucifer, of course, but the last chapter has a surprise and it’s so bloody perfect! Also here the characters are well written and you can perfectly imagine the scenes!
  • And Trixie Went In by Moarningstar - Usually I don’t like when there is only a little extract as summary in the main page. Most of the time I fall in love with that story that has only an extract as summary in the main page. This is one of the cases. This story is weird because you don’t know and yet you know. You want to know more, you need a follow up, you need to read flashbacks. You must know what happened. But at the same time you don’t want to because the passages written are enough. Plus, good characterization!
  • The Days Before Christmas by EveningRose - TDBC is a collection of 25 one shots! One for each day before Christmas! A Deckerstar advent calendar! Lucifer wants to give Chloe something every day until Christmas. This serie of works kept me company during December and I couldn’t be more happy! They are just so lovely and light!
  • Wish Upon a (Fallen) Star by Grym - My favourite Deckerstar Christmas fanfiction!!! It has everything I love about a cliche (not in bad way) Christmas’ fanfic! Snow and walks and lights and revelations.
  • Redeeming The Devil by EllanaSan - I don’t like fanfic in which Lucifer gets his wings back. In my opinion they are gone, bye, addio, au revoir, ciao ciao! BUT! This one is really good! The dynamics between characters are really IC and Lucifer is so damn charming! And I think I made a spoiler, whooops, sorry!
  • Snow Day for the Devil by Antarctic_Echoes - You want something Christmassy and fluffy and lovely? Here you are! Snow, Chloe and Lucifer! Best combination for a reading on your couch with a blanket!
  • Tidings of Comfort and Joy by @winterskywrites - Lucifer and presents for his friends. Perfect and lovely presents for his friends. Perhaps Christmas wasn’t quite so bad after all. This is one of my favourite winter fanfiction! Good characterization and such a lovely plot! 
  • Blurred by Wandererzaehler - Blurred is a lovely collection of 30 shots and drabbles, one for each day of November. Some are connected between them and they are not focused only on Chloe and Lucifer, but on others characters too and they are really enjoyable!
  • Meta-Lucifer on Ao3 by Antarctic_Echoes - Is a serie of 6 works, not completed yet and based on a weird situation. Lucifer is a writer and he posts on Ao3 under a pseudonym. But all this brings problems and discoveries and angst and fun and well. I think you have to give it a shot.
  • The Switch by Kirbily - Interesting work in progress. I quote the summary “After a strange incident involving a disembodied voice uttering "As you wish King of Hell,” Lucifer finds that he has been turned into a mortal, and Chloe has received his invulnerability.“ It’s an interesting plot. I’ll keep an eye on it! 

This took me so long, I’m sorry. But I don’t have an Ao3 account so I had to look at the downloaded fanfic and find links on the site :) Plus I’d like to read something on tumblr too, so if you have suggestions, please share them!

Sent With No Sender

Anonymous asked: Can u do one with Philip, where he writes reader anon love letters? Thank you!!

A/N: I’m terrible at titles. Also I’m sorry.

Word Count: 1531

TW: None, but if you find something please let me know.

AU: Hamiltime

Pairing: P. Ham x Reader 

Your maid Pascaline came into your room holding the blue envelope. You had gotten at least 12 in the past two weeks, each making your heart flip and do somersaults and cartwheels due to their immense amount of compliments. The only problem was, you didn’t know who was sending them.

“There’s another letter, Miss L/N.” She placed the object on the edge of the dresser and quickly exited the room to attend to other matters. You made a mental note to thank her later as you stood up and picked up the blue envelope. Across the front in memorable cursive was “Miss Y/N L/N”. You picked up a nearby pin and opened it carefully in one swift motion before pulling out the actual letter.

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