Writing Bloge

[bekiwrites]

A Gift

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game)

Characters: Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Jesse McCree, Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada

Additional Tags: Minor Body Horror, Fluff, Genji is a Little Shit, First Meeting, oni!hanzo, Undead!McCree, witch!mercy

Summary:  There is a reason why Hanzo doesn't accept gifts. But perhaps this time... He will accept it.

Additional Notes: A gift for @bluandorange

Read on Ao3

[bekiwrites]

Ten Years Gone

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game)

Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada

Characters: Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada, Jesse McCree

Additional Tags: Reversewatch, reverse au, good endings, Fluff, Mutual Pining

Summary: Ten years ago, Genji left to start his life with Zenyatta. Now, he returns to be the ultimate little shit to his brother.

Additonal Notes: I RETURN, BEARING THE GIFT OF REVERSEWATCH!!!! Please thank @heronfoot / @reversewatch for all of their art and coming back so I could kick myself into gear and finish this damn thing!

Read on Ao3

[bekiwrites]

hhgggx:

bluandorange:

mchanzo prompt anyone can take and run with;

hanzo seeking mccree out for kissing/snuggles/heavy petting/sex because his brain is too noisy and he wants to escape his thoughts and just be in his body for a little while

Sometimes the world is loud. It’s loud, and jarring, and the soil moves under Hanzo’s feet as if it has a life of its own, and the sky rumbles and shatters with light and he comes crumbling down to his end.

Sometimes Hanzo’s blood rolls like lava in his veins, churning white-hot and burning out everything in his bones until he feels like a charred skeleton. Sometimes air stings him right in the soft spongy tissue of his lungs, some particulate so fine and small he can’t filter it out making its way into his bronchioles like glass dust so that he drowns on his own ichor.

And then sometimes McCree is there. A hand on Hanzo’s back, his wrist, his cheek: it tethers Hanzo to earth but raises him above the floodwaters. A whisper in his ear– Let’s Get Out Of Here– and the bubbling lava cools, simmers down to only the occasional flow. A heated kiss, a rush of breath against his cheeks, sharing the same air, and Hanzo’s lungs feel fresh new as Spring’s first meltwater.

And he comes crumbling down, and McCree is there to catch him.

McCree has seen that expression before. A shut down of all “unnessecary” functions, a way of surviving without living, a most quiet meltdown. It happened to the best of people at the worst of times and Hanzo was no different. It was the same face Genji had made after missions, the same one Reyes had made after speaking to the UN, the same one he knew he made when the mention of the glory days got on to Ana.

The only thing to do- the only polite thing to do- was to offer up his special brand of help to those who needed it.

So he would touch Hanzo, right where he could see him, murmur in his ear and away they would go. Back to a room, back to a couch, back to a corner. Sometimes all Hanzo would need was a low voice soothing his ear and calming his brain. Sometimes Hanzo needed to be touched, stripped naked and felt up until his dams broke. Sometimes it was sex, hard and hot and heavy, relentless and unforgiving. Sometimes there was a sigh. Sometimes there were tears. Sometimes even there was a thank you.

McCree was always glad to help.

[bekiwrites]

A Perfect Mistake

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game)

Characters: Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada, Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu, Winston (Overwatch), Mei-Ling Zhou, Brigitte Lindholm, Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, Torbjörn Lindholm, Hana "D.Va" Song, minor/background characters

Additional Tags: mentions of torture, Aftermath of Torture, Missions Gone Wrong, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hospitalization

Summary: Hanzo embarks on a mission to steal from Akande Ogundimu. But they never go according to plan, do they?

And ultimately, one must pay for their mistakes.

Read on Ao3

[bekiwrites]

Shit fam idk if this is what self care is, but I bought makeup and people complimented me. A lady is gonna give me more shit she never uses. I took a shower, brushed my teeth, used mouthwash, cleaned my sink and my toilet. I'm feeling good.

[bekiwrites]

Brutal Honesty Time

Helping out friends is good.

Taking care of yourself is good.

Reaching out to people is good.

Stay safe.

[hhgggx]

Hanzo stared at himself in the mirror. His hair was as soft as corn silk: not soft at all. A little wet, a little rough, it tangled easily– and when he tried to put it in some semblance of order it got ALL over the place. He could never get it quite tidy and often tied it up just to avoid dealing with it. The only time he ever felt like it looked good was when he cut it off entirely. There had been a time when he was a vain man and had had time for proper grooming, but years on the run had left his routine lacking, his skin coarse and his hair worse. He was calloused and scarred and the bags under his eyes never really went away, and most days Hanzo was astounded he even looked half as alive as his pulse assured him he was.

[bekiwrites]

Jesse stared at his lover staring at himself in the mirror. The years had not been kind to either of them- too long on the run, not enough time in the hands of softness and mercy. But they were safe now. Or rather- as safe as being a part of an internationally wanted gang of vigilantes could afford to be. Jesse knew that Hanzo was going into one of his spirals of self hatred. Time for a little loving. Jesse sidled up to his honey bun and kissed his neck, running his hands down those lovely planes, feeling the strength and resolve of his love to keep living. One day, one hour, one minute, one second more. And some days, that's all that mattered.

[bekiwrites]

Down Time

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: Gen

Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game)

Characters: Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada, Jesse McCree, Tekhartha Zenyatta, Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Hana "D.Va" Song, Mei-Ling Zhou

Additional Tags: Hanzo is a nerd who likes Pokemon, Genji is very frustrated with his brother, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: No one knows of Hanzo's secret love. He hopes to keep it that way.

Additional Notes: HANZO IS A NERD AND IT PAINS ME THAT NO ONE ACKNOWLEDGES THAT!!!

ALSO IF YOU HAVEN'T READ AFTERDROP BY @claroquequiza YOU ARE MISSING OUT!!!!

Read on Ao3

[bekiwrites]

Stay By My Side

An unofficial epilogue from Always With Me by @claroquequiza . Happy late 30th!

The coyote stepped off the boat, lost and confused but knowing this was the correct stop. He couldn’t say how- didn’t think he remembered how to talk- but he knew this was the right place. The streets were lined as he remembered them, the lanterns were in the same pattern as he knew them, the stalls were all correct. But where was he supposed to go?

Apparently, with the crowd. They had gotten tired of him blocking everything, so they pushed him forward- forward, forward, ever forward. Through alleys and streets, past food and drink and entertainment, to a bridge. A familiar bridge. It was here where he first met the ghost of ___, though he didn’t know that at the time. This is where ___ had lead him to speak to ___ and ___ and ___. His friends. If only he could remember them.

He frowned. A voice came up from somewhere in the depths of his mind. “The nameless cannot name the nameless.” It was a voice he knew, if only he could put a name and a face to it. It was one of safety and warmth- a cool river on a hot summer day. If only... If only.

The coyote frowned and cracked his neck and shifted his weight. Right. He needed a bath. No. He needed to speak to ___. Ask for a job. Could he, not remembering his past? Ah well. He knew the way well enough, even if he wasn’t sure exactly how he knew. Lucky guess? More than that. He had been here before.

Through a small gate, into the garden, through another door, down some rickety stairs- they still hadn’t fixed that one, he noted with a grimace- to a green door on his left. He let himself in, wiping his paws as best as he could while he waited for someone to notice him in this fucking hot boiler room. Yes. ___ and ___ would be here, probably. It would be nice to hear ___’s whirrs and ___’s gruff voice yell about something or other. Maybe he could stick around for a while and listen to the two talk. That brought a smile to the coyote’s face. Yeah, and ___ could bring food for the three of them. Maybe for the four of them. He wasn’t sure that ___ actually ate anything though, being a construct and all.

He heard that same gruff voice from so many years ago, yelling and banging and carrying on, but now there was a... girl? Huh. Maybe he should introduce himself. That was a good idea. He knocked on a warm pipe as he stepped into the large room, where the noise of people stopped. Three people- a man, a woman and a construct. The man was short, squat, with blonde braids and a claw on his arm. The woman was huge in comparison; tall and relatively slim in comparison. Long red hair swept up into a ponytail. And those arms! Whoo boy howdy, she could sweep him up in his arms any time! The construct... he was pretty sure that the last time he saw it, it didn’t have a yellow bird on its shoulder.

He shuffled about as they stared at him.

“Vell? Who are you?” The man called out. The coyote remained silent.

“Papa...”

“I vill not tolerate insolence, boy. Speak up!”

The coyote said nothing, but stepped forward to offer his hand. Yes... the name was almost on the tip of his tongue. He was...

“Lindholm. Torbjorn Lindholm. Vhat is the matter? Coyote got your tongue?” Lindholm chuckled at his own bad pun. “Ah, I’m sorry. You want to go up, yes? I’m sure he’ll vant to see you...”

He? Last time, he was pretty sure that the person running this place was...

No time to think on that now. He was directed to wipe off his paws and out a door halfway up off of the floor. Odd. But he was used to it. He knew the way. He needed to get up to that office. He needed a job. He would not take no for an answer. He could do this. He had done it once before. How hard could it be a second time?

Up and up and up and up. Three elevators, but he knew the way. He slipped easily through the frogs and the slugs and the myriad of other spirits. And for a second, he thought a rather large pig spirit in a gas mask waved at him. But that was silly. Why would he know a pig spirit like that? Eh. Oh well.

The hallway he eventually dumped himself off on was rather plain, papered green in contrast to all of the red in the bathhouse. It reminded him of a forest of some sort. But where...? No where. No where important at least. He walked to a set of double doors, each with a knocker on it. One knocker was a green dragon, holding its own tail. The other was opposite, clockwise in blue and also holding its tail. Balance. Harmony. Two brothers finally reunited instead of one evil bitch running the place.

“Ah! Welcome!” The coyote couldn’t be surprised when the green knocker began to speak to him, though the voice threw him for a loop. Masculine and not at all like ___’s voice. It was... nice. Familiar. But not the one he needed to hear. He wanted the brother. He wanted-

The thought was cut off when the door opened to a hallway, much like the one he was currently in but with more doors. Wow. Who needed this many fucking doors? “Well? Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to come in? It’s just a straight shot down the hall, and then you turn left. Come on! I have stuff to do mister!” The green dragon chuckled and settled down where it lay on the door. Welp. No going back. He had to ask ___ for a job because... well fuck. It looked like ___ got outed by her own employees and daughters. Good riddance. She had been a fucking bitch.

He followed the knocker’s instructions, moving slowly but with purpose. The halls looked... nice. Relaxing. Like he was moving through a forest in the spring. Hell, someone had even painted trees- or were those growing up here? Hard to tell, but the blossoms and the fruits looked so real, it was a real temptation to stop and try and pluck something off. That apple looked particularly delicious- red and juicy. And that fruit! It looked strange, something he would never eat normally. And oh... the cherry trees... Nearly red blossoms, bright red fruits, he could sit in the boughs and eat them all day...

Alas, he had to move on. ___ was waiting on him.

The office had been remodeled. It was more sleek, more office like, back when he was running in ___. The heads were still there though, blonde and cackling and crowding around him. He was about to punt one when a sharp whistle came from the man behind the desk and they backed off.

___ looked better than the last time he saw him. There had been a pain in his eyes, a bitter sorrow in his movements. He hadn’t wanted to talk about his past, but now he was... better. The scars- though not healed- were less raw looking. There was a mischief in his eyes that belied any serious thought. And his smile! It was good to see that.

“Well! It took you long enough to get here! Awh man, wait till Hanzo hears about it- he’ll fucking flip-” ___ pulled on a cord behind him and moved around the desk to greet the coyote with a hug. “Hey! So, how have you been?”

He went to open his mouth and found the words stuck in his throat. Oh no. Here ___ was, waiting to hear everything and yet... he couldn’t remember a single thing. And he couldn’t even speak, even if he had remembered things. Shit. Hanzo would be so mad at him... Forgetting everything... How could he?

Not long to wait, the soft pitter patter of feet came from behind him and a familiar, irritated voice. “Genji, I told you I didn’t wish to be disturbed unless it was-” Hanzo pulled up, obviously surprised. The coyote didn’t understand why though. “Genji... is it...?”

“It is. Go on. Greet him.”

“Jesse...”

His name was Jesse McCree.

His name was Jesse McCree.

Jesse shed his fur as he ran to Hanzo, tackling him to the ground and kissing him all over. Jesse. Jesse. His name was Jesse. And-

“Hanzo. Sugar, baby, honeybee, darlin-”

“Get off of me- Jesse! Please you’re- GAH!”

Jesse couldn’t help kissing him. Kissing every last square inch of Hanzo’s beautiful, wonderful, perfect face and neck and hands and arms. Try as Hanzo might- even beating him with his own hat no less!- there was no separating Jesse at this point from his dragon. Not the laughter behind him, not the irritated glare softened by a smile, not their friends and family crowding in behind to welcome Jesse home. Not even Gabriel Reyes or Jack Morrison could keep Jesse from holding onto Hanzo.

He was home. And now that he had found his dragon, there was no way in hell that he was letting go.

[jaspurrlock]

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[bekiwrites]

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[iguanastevens]

Feedback culture is dead, long live feedback culture!

AO3, fanfiction, and comments: the system isn’t working. 

Fic authors have a problem with feedback – or rather, with the lack of it. Fanfiction has a notoriously low ratio of comments to hits, and many of us have expressed our frustration that we can get a hundred, two hundred, five hundred, even a thousand views on our stories, but only a handful of readers will leave kudos, let alone comments.   

Unfortunately, this only gets worse for long, multi-chapter stories (aka, the longfics we know, love, and would sell our souls in a second if it meant an update), which also happen to be the stories that authors need the most support to continue and complete. Law of diminishing returns, y’all, and it sucks. 

We’re not here to guilt you into leaving comments. We want to address the problem by changing the format, and we need your help to do it. 

The goal is to increase the amount of feedback authors get from readers, especially on stories with multiple chapters, and to make it easier for everyone to show how much we love fics. We’re opening a discussion with ao3 to figure out how/if any of these options can be implemented, but first we need options to present! 

Some of our current ideas: 

Ability to leave a form of kudos on every chapter, instead of only once on the entire story: this lets authors know that you’re here and you’re reading their updates, so their hard work isn’t getting tossed into the internet void. 

Comment templates: suggested comments that can be customized or posted as-is. Many of us draw a blank or get nervous when we try to think of a comment, so having pre-made options will both increase the total level of feedback and serve as practice, making it easier to leave more in-depth comments in the future. 

Upvoting/leaving kudos on comments themselves: positive reinforcement makes giving feedback more fun and rewarding, and it lets the author know that readers are present and agreeing with other comments, even if they don’t leave one themselves. 

We’ll contact AO3 to discuss the possibility of adding any of these as native features, and if that won’t work, we’re looking into creating and sharing a user script. 

 What you can do to help: 

 As a reader, what would you like to have? What would you be most likely to use? New ideas, opinions on ideas that are listed here, they’re all good. 

As a creator, how would you feel about each of these options? Can you think of other ways of receiving or encouraging feedback? 

Pros and cons of these (note: our thoughts on this are discussed in this google doc) 

GET THE WORD OUT! Reblog this post, send it to your friends, link to it from your stories. We need as much input and support as possible to get this off the ground. 

Feedback makes for happy authors. Happy authors make for more stories. Let’s keep this part of fandom alive! 

More details about our thoughts, discussions, and ideas can be found in this google doc.

[thelastpilot]

wow, changing the format itself to facilitate comments! and interesting and rad way to go about helping authors 

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Honestly, if a first line makes you laugh, you should probably at least try to write that story.

“The year the band geeks became wizards was also the first year Trish Warden disappeared and somebody finally decided to give a shit about it.”

[bekiwrites]

Honestly, before this Trish Warden hadn't had time traveling problems before this. See- some idiot at band camp had brought some DnD books to the isolated little cabin space and then some idiot who believed in Paganism and Wicca and all that jazz had brilliantly thought that doing a ritual with them was a good idea. An hour later and demons and devils and all sorts of shit began to pour out of a portal.

Trish was one of those few who was beyond monsters and magic, but even she was impressed when she began to shoot various flavors of lighting from her fingertips. And the monster killing was kind of cool.

But then some doofus had to go and use super powerful magic to send her back in time to stop this mess happening in the first place. But there was no way that she could! It would violate every known law of physics. So she wound up moving through time and space without any control over it.

Just her lot in life.

[jaspurrlock]

[bekiwrites]

geekinglikeaboss:

jaspurrlock:

Kinktober Day 22: Scars/Collaring

Harry: Take all the time you need, love~

Support me on Patreon! :D

@jaspurrlock

His whole life, he had been expected to earn love. It was not something given freely by anyone save his mother, and even then, he had striven to prove he was deserving of it.

With Harry, he never felt deserving, but it was offered none the less.

The collar was a state of awareness. the settling of the leather about his throat was a transformative experience the likes of which could never be equaled by any spell or potion. Gone was the Malfoy and the mantel clasping about his shoulders. Vanished was the family burden of Death Eater and malcontent.

Now there was only Draco.

Sometimes being Draco was complicated enough. Harry’s handle on the leash was not a sign of demeaning possession but rather a confirmation of ownership and the responsibilities that went with it. This was not merely a game. Harry was willing to extend his hand and pet the scars that littered the pale body, rub ointment into them and let the pain be soothed through his care.

No one had ever done that for him.

“Take all the time you need love.” Harry whispered in his brain, waiting for him to kneel and offer his submission willingly.

PATREON

@jaspurrlock​ , @geekinglikeaboss

For all the shit that Harry had gone through in his life, sometimes he felt that Draco had it worse somehow. Sure- Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and Cousin Dudley had made his life hell. But he hadn’t known the burden on his shoulders until Hagrid had come into his life at 13, and not even then had he fully realized. It was only after the Triwizard Tournament that he understood that not only Voldemort was bad, he was trying to kill people. Kill people Harry had come to care about.

For Draco, that had been his entire life- and on the ‘losing’ side to boot.

Watching Draco try to unwind himself was probably the hardest thing to do. To watch Draco set aside his masks as he folded his clothes, watch him accept his role as he felt the leather move against his neck, watch him prepare his mind even as he rubbed his body. It was a ritual. Probably the only one Draco had that didn’t end in harm or self loathing.

“Take all the time you need, love.” Harry’s heart swelled with pride as Draco said nothing, just continued rubbing his body in their ritual. At first it was sneering and biting words, then glares. Now it was with hardly a blink. And oh- how he wanted to run his fingers through the pomade in Draco’s hair, muss it up and have him kneel, to worship that body exactly as it deserved to be worshiped-

No. This would do for now. Hold the leash that let Draco know he didn’t have to be in control as they continued their ritual together, each movement precise and planned.

Everything else could come after.

[bekiwrites]

It's r76

[hhgggx]

Buy Feather, Fang, Scale, and Skin: An Inspired Collection About Monsters and Those Who Love Them (eBook) online at Lulu. Visit the Lulu Marketplace for product details, ratings, and reviews.

It’s finally here! $11.99 gets you access to 25k words/75 pages of monstery goodness. This is a .pdf ebook, meaning it’s compatible with any device that reads .pdfs. Thank you so, so much to everyone that’s supported me while I worked on this. I hope it was worth your time!

Make sure to let me know what you thought of individual stories! I’d love to continue some of these someday. (and please, for the love of god, tell me if you find any errors so i can fix them)

If you’re the ridiculously generous sort and you feel like tipping on top of the book cost (lulu takes a small portion as a hosting fee) you can hit up my tip jar here. No pressure, though. I know this is a little pricey compared to the free stuff I post most of the time. And heck, if you aren’t able to shell out for the full stories, you can always look through the previews in my Interrobang Working tag. No shame in that.

Have fun!

[hhgggx]

everyone send @bekiwrites good vibes and also hugs because she’s gonna be working for a goddamn month straight without a day off by saturday!!!!!! she’s worked 3 weeks without a break and has STILL managed to beta a ridiculous amount of work for myself and others. i don’t know how she’s alive honestly??

[bekiwrites]

<3

[hhgggx]

me: checks my email after work to see if my friendly beta has left me any notes/edits

google docs: 78 pending changes

me: 

[hhgggx]

update:

[bekiwrites]