the cutest eyes

Halloween is my favorite season of the year so I had to do something!! 🎃 And it’s also my entry for Mama’s fanart contest! ♥

Comment on fanfics

A few days back on AO3 I found an unfinished, two chapter spideypool fanfic that was cute and had lots of potential and was also last updated two years ago. Two whole years! And it had only three comments, all of which on chapter one, none on chapter two. I enjoyed the fanfic, despite it being far, FAR from being finished and the chance of it ever updating again anytime soon was just about zero. So you know what I did?

I wrote a damn comment. On chapter two.

And I made sure that fucker was long and had a small theory of where I think the author would take the fanfic in the future. I let the person behind the fic know that I friggin LOVED the two chapters I got to read! That I would LOVE to see more! That I’d jump out of my skin in happiness and virtually hug them half to death if I saw that they updated it.

Let me remind you this fic wasn’t updated in two YEARS! I was the first to comment on it in a year. And the first to comment on chapter two! And you know what happened today?

I got a reply.

From the author of the fanfic. And the author said how I gave them life for a project they had loved (still did) and that they were now working on a third chapter. After two YEARS of not updating. Of not writing. And it makes me so friggin happy seeing what I did. What I caused.

With a single. Damn. Comment.

All that it took for me was to think a bit about what I wanted to tell the author and the comment it. All it took was one comment. And suddenly this person was inspired to continue a fanfic they had abandoned for TWO YEARS!!

I couldn’t be happier. I couldn’t be more proud.

Comment on people’s fanfics. No matter how few chapters there are. No matter how many years have passed since their last update. Comment. You like a fanfic? Comment on it. It’s that easy.

Here’s a little bit on subplots!

Image Credit - Original Owners (s)

bighit posted this and i know he looks good and all but what the Actual Fuck is that in the background and why does it look like satan had to pause and lean against the doorway admiring jin because same

Namjin Sleeping Beauty~

@mystline

random tv and film au [1/ ∞ ]                             sherlock bbc    kim namjoon as sherlock holmes    park jimin as john watson

some cozy Namjin for your feelz <3

today is fanfiction writer’s appreciation day, and I thought about what I wanted to do for today, but I decided that the best thing I could is this.

here’s for the writers that didn’t receive any asks today

here’s for the writers that didn’t make any appreciation list

here’s for the writers that weren’t mentioned anywhere

here’s for the writers that aren’t popular

here’s for the writers whose fics are never rec’ed

here’s for the writers whose fics have a low kudo/commenting rate

here’s for the writers that don’t get reblogs/likes

here’s for the writers that abandon their work half way because they think it sucks (spoiler: it does not)

here’s for the writers that were bashed for whatever they wrote

here’s for the writers that feel like giving up 

here’s for the writers that feel anxious when they post a fic

here’s for the writers that struggle to write

here’s for the writers that never publish anything

here’s for all writers. No matter who they are, what fandom, what ship: you guys are amazing and you make fandom a better place. 

Keep writing.

@damnjooon

Thank youuu ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ @slutjoon @bobajimin @petaelwriting @wewritekpop @hoseoksmut @hoseokimin @trashfourdays and so many more!

Oh my god this is… I needed this @jeonrepublic @xbangtansonyeondamnx @theseturquoisewaves @jeonghsk @infireation @unpretty-uncreative @seokjin-seng @showmethekookie

”I really am sorry about the fact that your rappers can’t do as well as me.”

Writer goals: Fanart based on your writings

Artist goals: Fanfics based on your drawings

My goals: Actually get the writing or the drawing done

Title: Fangirl

Characters: Jongin/Hayley

Genre: Fluff, College!AU

Word Count: 3,189

A/N: For @jvnqkooked. ———————————————————————————————————————

You know it’s not right to write about someone without their permission, even if they’re the most popular person on campus and already have a fan club. But you’re an English Literature Major and can’t help it, especially when so many of his fans come to you for stories!

Him, as in Kim Jongin, the spiker on the volleyball team. Gorgeous lips and sultry eyes, dark skin and a seemingly-perfect body. You don’t know anything about his personality, and at first, you didn’t need to. The girls (and sometimes guys) who came to you for scenarios were fine with the way you made him up, do things and think.

But then they wanted more, to be closer to the “real thing” and started to demand actual facts about him. Of course, you couldn’t give it to them, because what are you supposed to do? Go up and get to know him? Stalk him?

Okay, you know the obvious answer is to talk to him, but what are you supposed to say? “Hey, my fans are also your fans and they want me to write about you more thoroughly so could you, you know, tell me everything about yourself including your deepest secrets so I can write better stories?”

Yeah, no thank you. It’s all too much of a hassle for just a side-hobby. The stories themselves always took time out of your busy schedule, so you can do without them for once.

You now turn away every one of your loyal fans, telling them that you can’t write about Jongin anymore and leaving it at that.

You didn’t think anything of it when they walked away upset and disappointed, that is, until someone unexpected knocks on your door the next morning.

A persistent rap sounds at your door, waking you up and, begrudgingly, you go to it, not even caring about how you look with a bed head and your pajamas.

“Look,” You say, opening the door whilst rubbing your tired eyes. “I don’t write about that idiot Kim Jongin anymore, alright? I’m sorry I ruined your day, go home now.” You’re about to shut the door in their face, but then you see who it is that’s standing in front of you and you freeze, eyes widening. “O-Oh, I didn’t realize it was..”

“That it was me?” He chuckles. “I see that.”

Holy eff. Kim Jongin is at your door.

You immediately flush, because even if you didn’t care enough to get to know him in person, he’s still handsome and now this hot guy saw you when you just woke up and now he knows that you used to write about him and–

“Can I come in?” He asks after you stare at him for a minute, and you hastily nod and step to the side without really thinking of your actions. When you close the door behind him, you internally curse yourself for not cleaning up the day before like you were supposed to. You had a big project due that night and decided to save your chores for today.

He doesn’t seem to care much about the mess though, and casually walks to your couch, taking a seat.

“Why are you here?” You decide to ask. A little late, but better late than never, right?

“I was just curious,” He shrugs, peering around your room before his dark eyes land on you. “About what my biggest fangirl looks like.”

You blush darkly, jaw dropping as you stammer. “I-I’m not your fa–”

“Sure you aren’t.” He laughs, cutting you off. You’re taken aback by it’s honey-like sound and continue to look at him from your doorway, unsure of what to say or do. “That’s why you write about me and the whole campus reads your stories.”

You run your hand through your messy hair, almost getting your fingers caught in a knot. “I don’t write about you anymore.” You explain awkwardly. “And what do you mean, the whole campus? How do you know about it?”

You had specifically only written for the people you were acquainted with, trying to stay as unknown as possible so he’d never find out (because that’s embarrassing). Yet here is, telling you that your fan fiction is famous around campus.

“Do you really think I’m an idiot?” He quips, arching his eyebrow and you curse yourself for calling him one at the door.

“No, I’m sorry about that, I was just–” He laughs again, waving it off to show he was just kidding. “I was caught off guard.” You finish anyways.

“You’re unexpectedly uptight.” He comments, standing up and walking around to inspect the action figures on your shelf.

“‘Unexpectedly’?” You reiterate, stalking over and taking it away to set it back on the shelf. He looks at you, picks it up again, and continues to look at it. Who does he think he is?

“Yeah, your main characters are so ready to fall for me.” He drawls lazily, setting the figure back down when you start glaring at him. But then you step back in surprise, and he peers at you questioningly.

“You’ve read my stories?!” You squeak, and he bites back a smile at your cute reaction. He didn’t come here to fall for you, after all.

“A few of them.” He tells you casually, which only makes you more flustered. “My favorite one was the one where my volleyball team and I were bikers and we low key kidnapped the reader–”

“It wasn’t kidnapping, she decided to go on her own.” You argue, and his eyebrows rise at your denial. “Because she was having family problems and just wanted to–”

“Runaway. I know, I read it.” He waves it off, but he still seems mildly surprised you cut him off. “It was still my favorite.”

“Gosh, that’s so weird.” You say, turning away to hide your embarrassment. “Why are you reading your own fanfiction? Are you that narcissistic?” To your horror, he steps behind you and leans forward, so he can see your expression.

“I told you already. I was curious about you.” He watches the way your brow furrows as you try to hide your blush, but he catches it anyways and bites back another grin before backing away. “Well, I have practice soon, so I’ll be going.”

You turn and look at him, and is that disappointment he sees (or relief)? “So soon?” You ask in surprise.

This time, he lets himself smirk, catching you off guard. “Did you want me to stay?” When you stammer your denial, he chuckles lowly and ruffles your (already messy) hair. “See ya’, fangirl.”

As he leaves your dorm, smug and mighty like he came, you mumble a quiet, “I’m not your fan.”

It’s not long before you see Jongin again, because your best study spot just happens to be on the hill that overlooks the volleyball net, where he and his team inevitably have to practice at.

You thought you’d be fine, because why would he care about you at all? You weren’t expecting him to come up and suddenly strike up a conversation after he was done playing.

“My biggest fan.” He greets, making your head whip up from your laptop. You see a hint of endearment in his eyes, but you’re too shocked to focus on it.

“I’m not your fan.” You state simply, turning back to your screen.

“Don’t be like that.” He whines, sitting on the hill next to you. “Are you working on another story?” He asks, leaning his head closer to yours to see over your shoulder.

You shut your laptop and scoot away from him, his scent a little different than you remember describing it in your fanfiction. You always said he smelled something like honey, or the latest cologne, but up close, it’s an impossible mix of freshness and musk.

“I don’t write your stories anymore.” You remind him, and he hums in disappointment.

“I was hoping I could see one in-the-making.” He muses softly, and why do you feel bad now? “Then are you working on homework?” He chimes, smiling suddenly.

“Yeah, for my English class.” Why are you telling him?

“Cool! You should help me with mine, too.” Without you noticing, he had unzipped his backpack and pulled out his own laptop (which looks at least $100 more expensive than yours).

“What? I’m not going to–”

“Please?” His eyes widen and he suddenly looks like a puppy, one that you can’t say no to. When you struggle to tell him no again, he smiles triumphantly and closes the space between you two by scooting up your side. “Thank you.” He grins, and you have no choice but to suck it up and do it now.

“Only this one time.” You warn him, and he nods contentedly. “What’s your essay about?” Of course, it’s not long before time seems to slip away from you, because when Jongin closes his laptop and yawns in the middle of your suggestion, you realize it’s late in the evening and the sun is already setting.

“Thanks for the help, fangirl.” He says teasingly, giving you a lopsided smile. You decide to ignore the nickname this time and mutter a “you’re welcome”.

Instead, you tell him, “My name is Hayley.” You catch the flicker of emotion that goes across his face a second before he forces a smile onto it.

“I didn’t ask for it.” He says coldly, and you purse your lips in disapproval. Jongin didn’t want to know your name, because names mean forming bonds, and he’s not interested in that. After all, he didn’t come here to fall for you.

“I know, but if you’re going to keep talking to me, then you’ll call me by my name.” You say, trying to make a point, but he doesn’t seem to care. “Bye, then.” You say, shoving your laptop in your bag and starting to walk away.

“Wait!” He stands up after you, and you turn around to look at him pointedly. “Fine, I’ll call you Hayley.” For the first time since you’ve met him, you think he looks a little shy. “Let me walk you to your dorm. It’s getting dark.”

“I can take care of myself.” You reassure him, jangling your pepper spray on your keychain. He seems to have noticed it for the first time because his eyes widen.

“Did you always have that?” He asks in shock.

“Yep, right in my hand in case you did anything to me.” You joke, but he looks personally offended.

“I wouldn’t do anything to you.” He argues, and you wave it off with your hand.

“Are you gonna walk me home or not?” That gets him to jog up next to you, a dorky smile tugging at his lips. He tries to hold it back though, because, like he told himself before, he didn’t come here to fall for you.

“You are so my fangirl, Hayley.” He teases, and you shake your head in exasperation as you start walking.

“I am not your fangirl.”

Midterms end in a whirlwind of final projects and homework assignments, forcing you to burrow yourself in your bedroom to study for days on end. It’s stressful, and even with Kim Jongin on your mind, you manage to get through it until it’s over.

As you turn in your last essay digitally, you fall back onto your mattress and sigh exhaustedly. Now that you have down time, what should you do? Cleaning your room should be one; you haven’t really touched it since last week.

But someone knocks on your door, and it’s the same familiar rap you heard a month ago, so you already know who it is. You ignore it, though, wanting to rest.

“I know you’re in there.” You hear, and you lazily roll off of your bed and fall on the floor. “I’m coming in through your window if you don’t let me in through here.” Did you lock your windows? Probably. You still lie there, unmoving and you don’t hear anything else coming from the door.

Finally, you think. With no more distractions, you can peacefully pass out on your floor without any worries.

That is, until you hear the faint rattling of something sliding loose. You lift your hear gingerly, looking around the bedroom and finding nothing out of the ordinary. Then Kim Jongin appears out of nowhere from your living room and smiles upon seeing you.

“Hey, Hayley.” He greets, ignoring your slack jaw and question (“Did you really go through my window?”). “That’s fun to say. ’Hey, Hayley’.” He repeats, chuckling at his own sentence.

When you don’t make a move from your current position on the floor, he decides to be a dick and sit on your back, forcing the air out of your stomach and you grunt. “You little– Get off of me.” You say weakly, knowing he probably wouldn’t listen to you.

“It’s your punishment for not answering your door.” He states, and you drop your head back down to wallow in your grief of the situation.

“You’re suffocating me.” You grumble, and he laughs before getting off of you and deciding to lie down beside you. You turn your head to look at him and immediately regret it, because why does he always look so handsome when you’re under dressed?

Embarrassed, you roll underneath your bed until your on the other side, then stand and run into the bathroom. “Where you going?” He laughs, staying on the floor but propping his head up as he watches you frantically comb out your hair. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not judging you.”

“It’ll make me feel better.” You say grumpily, dropping the comb and splashing water onto your face. You reach for an outfit besides your pajamas before halting, peering at his smirking face before you shut the door.

“Aw, I was hoping to get a free show.” You hear him say on the other side, and you make a point to shout “ew” as loudly as you can so you know he hears.

When you’re presentable a few minutes later, you open the door and nearly run face first into his neck. “What the–”

“Oops.” He says, not actually sounding sorry. You tilt your head up at him warily, unsure of what he’s doing. He’s blocking you, taking up the doorway with one hand on the frame and his body leaning on the other.

“Will you move, please?” You ask him, squinting your eyes, but he doesn’t answer, just simply stares at you. You sigh, looking down at your feet and waiting for him to be done with whatever he thinks he’s doing.

“Why are you so different?” He asks suddenly, softly, and you think you may have imagined it, but when you look at him again, his brow is furrowed.

“What are you talking about?” You ask him, shaking your head in confusion.

“You’re not like the other girls who hang around me.” He shrugs, finally breaking eye contact, and for the second time since you’ve met him, you think he looks uncomfortable.

Unable to see how serious he is, you snort, “That’s because I’m not your fangirl, you dweeb.” You lift your hand to flick his forehead (an action you’ve been doing every time he’s visited you without warning), but when he looks at you again, there’s something in his eye that makes you stop.

He grabs your stilled wrist and holds it, surprising you when he leans a little closer. “I know.” He says quietly. “You treat me like a human being, a normal person. Not like I’m some prized possession or a toy you can just play with however you like.”

“Jongin, where are you going with this?” You ask him, because why would he ever feel like someone is treating him that way? “Of course I’m treating you like this, you’re my friend.” The moment you say 'friend’ he flushes, and you don’t miss it. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He say quickly, like he’s excited about it. “But I don’t want to be friends.” You can tell that he’s completely serious, and, hurt, you try to take your wrist back but he holds you fast. You open your mouth to yell at him, but then he says, “I want to be your boyfriend.”

And then you’re at a loss for words.

Kim Jongin, the guy who makes your heart beat a little faster and is constantly making your cheeks heat up, wants to be your boyfriend? Is he even listening to himself?

You laugh, unable to believe it, and he looks offended. “Do you need glasses? Or a new brain?” You ask him. “If you date me, you’d be dating down.” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your words, and he starts smiling a little.

“You think I’m better looking than you?” He quips, and you nod your head like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Maybe I do need glasses, then, or maybe you need a better mirror.” Jongin means it, and even though he’s been trying not to before, he’s done it.

He’s come and fallen for you.

Blushing, you aren’t sure what to say anymore. “S-So, are you asking me..?” You stutter, looking away and back at your feet. The hand on your wrist pulls you slightly, and you’re forced to take a step closer. You’re too close, though, because when you look up at him in surprise, your lips brush his and your eyes widen.

“Will you be my girlfriend, Hayley?” He asks, and you barely feel yourself nodding before his lips meet yours in a kiss. It’s perfect and nothing like how you used to write it; Jongin is gentle and sweet, moving his lips only occasionally and the breath he exhales through his nose tickles your cheeks in a good way. He kisses you like he’s been meaning to, his free hand coming to rest on your arm when you pull away.

“I lied to you, Jongin.” You mumble guiltily, and he looks worried for a moment until you smile sheepishly at him. “I think I am your fangirl.”

“I told you.” He chuckles, ruffling your hair and messing it up again. You swat his hands away but it’s already too late, and you huff before reaching out for the comb. He grabs your hand though, interlacing your fingers and kissing your knuckles, making sure to never look away from your eyes. “You don’t need to do that.” He reiterates his statement from earlier. “You’re beautiful to me no matter how you’re dressed or ready you are for the day.”

“You’re only saying that because you like it when I pay attention to you and not anything else.” You mutter, and he laughs at the truth of it.

“Partly.” He says, ruffling your hair again and making your squirm. “But I mean what I said.” When you gander at him, he smirks suddenly and it makes your skin crawl.

“What?” You ask nervously.

“You are so my fangirl.” He chuckles, and you don’t hesitate to flick his forehead this time in embarrassment.

———————————————————————————————————————

A/N: Oh my gosh. :0 I had this written out before my USB got lost, and had to re-write it a billion times to make sure it was good. ;u; I hope you enjoyed it, and if you didn’t or aren’t satisfied then please tell me, so I can keep re-writing it until you are satisfied. Thank you for talking to me when my blog first started, you really made my days then for supporting me and caring about me. <3

Also, I know this is kind of hypocritical to say (since it’s literally my entire blog), but no one should write fanfiction about someone without their permission first. Just a suggestion from me! I’m not commanding you or trying to force my opinions on you, but it’s out there, so to anyone reading, just know that permission is a thing. :/ will anyone even take this seriously i literally write about exo

OMG TIFFANY THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVED IT!!!!! I need to thank you for talking to me, and omg you flatter me so much! I’m glad i’ve made a friend through tumblr with you! If you ever need to talk or feel bad just to talk to me and i’ll be here for you. <3