*writing* Oh wow, they are going to love this. This is by far my best work!
*witty lines* *perfect love making* *fluffy enough to kill us all* *a dash of angst, a smidgen of hurt/comfort*
Oh man. This is it. This will be my legacy! *sweats into fic* *bleeds into fic* *cries into fic* *spends days perfecting the grammar and verbage and sex scenes* *has 15 betas look over it*
Okay. It is finally time to release my baby on the world. Here you go fandom. You're welcome.
Ha, cute. *like* *kudos*
* * *
same fanfic writer:
*writing* Whatever. This is shit, I don't even care right now. A singing squirrel? Sure, let's do it. Haha, cheesy lines that make no sense, sure. Grammatical errors out the wazoo? Why not. No one's going to read this piece of crap anyway, I literally wrote it on a scrap of 1 ply toilet paper with a broken yellow crayon.
OMG THIS IS THE BEST THING YOU HAVE EVER GRANTED US WITH, WHERE HAS THIS BEEN ALL MY LIFE, OMG, I NEED A SEQUEL IMMEDIATELY, PLEASE. WHAT THE. I'M NOT EVEN WORTHY. *kudosrebloglikereccomment*
You can be polyamorous and still cheat. You can be polyamorous and still cheat. You can be polyamorous and still cheat. You can be polyamorous and still cheat. Y O U C A N B E P O L Y A M O R O U S A N D S T I L L C H E A T
YOU CAN BE IN A POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIP AND STILL BE CHEATING
“May I?” Lady Lunafreya asked. She held out her hand.
“Are you… offering to heal me?” Prompto asked, hesitant.
Everyone was watching him. He shifted nervously and brushed a lock of hair out
of his face. “I’m really grateful but, uh. No thanks? I’m not hurt. But—but I
appreciate the offer!” The last thing he wanted was for the Oracle—for Noctis’
friend, the person who had pushed him to meet Noct in the first place—to think
But Lunafreya didn’t seem to hear. Her arm didn’t waver. “Please.”
Everyone was still watching. Noctis, with his head cocked to
the side. Ignis, quietly observing. Gladio, arms crossed, making sure nobody got
too close to the Oracle or the King. Prompto didn’t want to be the odd one out.
Lunafreya’s hand looked warm and inviting. So he took it.
Within seconds, Prompto was doubled over, something acidic
and awful falling from his lips.
The sensation of throwing up had always been unpleasant.
This was awful.
Despite all that, Lunafreya clutched his hand. Her grip was
surprisingly tight, even as Prompto bent over, his free hand on his knee in a
last ditch effort to stay upright.
He heaved and heaved and heaved.
All he saw was black.