hopeisawriter

[hopeisawriter]

oops! it seems i tripped and dropped several million free books, papers, and other resources

https://annas-archive.org

https://sci-hub.se

https://z-lib.is

https://libgen.is

https://libgen.rs

https://www.pdfdrive.com

https://library.memoryoftheworld.org

https://monoskop.org/Monoskop

https://libcom.org

https://libretexts.org

http://classics.mit.edu

https://librivox.org

https://standardebooks.org

https://www.gutenberg.org

https://core.ac.uk

[hopeisawriter]

Hi!

I don't know if you're still active but I just wanted to say, I've loved your b99 fics on ao3 and I was really hoping you'd write more. Especially when the tough fall apart aswirhchshaiqk it was SO GOODDD

Anyways that's all I wanted to say <3333

That is so sweet! thank you for reaching out and messaging me! I have debated it, I've been in a bit of slump as this year is especially busy with school but maybe I'll post another sometime this year :)

[hopeisawriter]

followers of fate ch 3!

It has been posted on a03 :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46947886/chapters/119493319#workskin

[hopeisawriter]

followers of fate (spideychelle fic)

Michelle Jones works the same shift at Caff's Coffee every week. A repetitive routine that pays well enough for her to put college tuition at the back of her head. When a mousy brunette walks in, she can't help but observe him. When she finds out they have the same classes, it gets even harder.

Peter Parker is a mess. A poster child of the college experience. Red Bull and ramen, on death's doorstep (figuratively). When he walks into Caff's for a coffee, he can't help but notice the barista. When he notices her staring at him in a lecture, he calls it fate.

OR

An eventual romance that stems from coffee, academia, and the journey of falling in love.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46947886/chapters/118265212

--------------

CHAPTER 1:  Caff's Coffee (A meet-cute)

It’s strange how the simplest people can catch one’s eye.

You spend so much time in life going through the motions that you don’t realize what you were doing before you met your best friend. Your rival. Even your partner.

A moment in time that shifts the course of your entire life.

*****

Michelle worked her part-time shift at Caff’s Coffee , a small cafe on Westly and Third. It was near Brown’s University, where she spent copious hours hunched over her notes and procrastinating. She was not sure what she wanted to do with her life yet but at the ripe age of 18, she was reading about political thinkers and writing essays. Lot’s.

“Michelle, can you take over cash?”

She saw his shadow before she saw him. Cade. Her 6’ tall and hip manager is in his 20’s. Not in college or university or further education like most of her work associates. Not sure how he ended up running this cafe but he was understanding and paid well.

No arguments from her.

She rolled her eyes at him.

“Dude. You know I hate people.”

Cade shrugged his shoulders, the AC causing his usual grey flannel to ruffle like a wave, the buttons shifting back and forth.

“Not my problem,” he responded, voice assertive yet kind. “You chose to work here with the knowledge that working cash was a requirement. Congrats, we’re understaffed.”

He waved his hand towards her in a shooing motion.

She grumbled under her breath but walked towards the counter nonetheless.

“How can I help you?” She mumbled, trying to keep the edge of her voice dull as she looked at the register, ready to type in the order.

“Can I get a drink with the most caffeine?”

Michelle bit back a grumble, begging the world to swallow her whole. Kids always came here asking for caffeine, yet get mad when the drink makes them feel on edge.

She crossed her arms and looked up.

The kid seemed friendly; he had mousy brown hair and almost too-pale skin. She made the executive decision to loosen up. She noted his bloodshot eyes and deep eye bags.

Let’s cut this kid some slack.

“We can do that for you. However, I think what you really need is sleep. A lot of it. In fact, you should be cast in a time-accurate version of sleeping beauty.”

She tacked on her customer-service smile–she could feel her cheeks.

The kid grinned at her, eyes crinkled and a soft smile.

He shook his head vigorously. He was a common brunette, but something about him stood out. Maybe it was his calm stature or his unkempt hair.

“Can’t. I have an exam today. Not ready.” He stumbled over his words. It was like each word was fighting to escape his throat before the other.

She sighed.

“All right man, I hope it goes well. Most people do not like our most caffeinated drink, Nitro cold brew with a double shot of espresso.”

“I’ll take it.”

She believed him.

“All right,” she muttered, typing his order in while going through the motions. “Credit or debit?”

“Actually-

Michelle looked up at him.

“Do you take cash?” He pulled at his necklace, a silver chain with what appeared to have a charm. The letter B. Probably the first letter of his name. Ben? Basil? Brett?

She shuddered. Brett did not suit him as a name at all.

“Hey?”

Shoot.

“Sorry, yea we take cash. Your total is $3.52.”

He fiddled with his pockets and dropped the coins into her palm.

She scanned them quickly and placed them into the registrar.

“Your order will be on the other side of the counter shortly.”

He smiled in response and headed to wait for his order.

Don’t say anything. Don’t-

“Hey, man!”

The kid turned to look at her.

“Good luck with your exam. I hope the coffee doesn’t kill you.”

“You better make sure that it doesn’t,” he grinned in response. “Thanks. I’m Peter by the way.”

She chewed at her lip and gave what she hoped was a smile in response.

“Michelle.”

“Nice to meet you, Michelle.”

She coughed into her sleeve.

“You too.”

He walked away.

She observed Peter as she made his drink. His skinny fingers picked at his maroon hoodie, eyes lost in thought.

She scooped and dumped the ice into the plastic (hopefully biodegradable?) cup. Pulled the coffee from the machine next, content to hear the steady spill of espresso. She was aware of her left foot tapping in beat with whatever playlist was playing on the cafe speakers.

Michelle finished making the drink, capping the lid on with a satisfying click.

She picked out an oatmeal raisin cookie and packaged it, then headed over to the counter where Peter stood, shifting his feet from side to side.

“Here’s your order.” She said as she slipped the drink towards him and the cookie, crinkling in its bag.

Peter grabbed the drink and furrowed his brows.

“I think there was a mistake, I didn’t order that.”

“It’s no mistake,” She replied confidently. “It’s yours. For after the exam. To celebrate .”

Peter froze.

She nudged it towards him.

“Come on, Peter. I have other customers to serve.”

As if shaken out of a trance, he grabbed it slowly.

“Thank you, Michelle.”

“What are you thanking me for, you paid for it.”

He looked inside the bag and squinted at the board.

“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Peter responded with a grin.

Before she could respond, coins tumbled out of his hands and onto the counter in front of her. Exactly the price of the cookie.

All she could do was glare as he bolted out of the shop with a loud, “THANK YOU!”

She could see Cade's shadow before she could see him.

“Don’t start,” she warned, raising a finger.

Cade shrugged and walked away.

Michelle went back to work, taking customers' orders. Boring orders, she might add.

A small part of her hoped Peter would show up again if only to give her a chance to lecture him on not accepting gifts.

Another part of her cringed at her actions.

You were going to give a customer you just met… a free cookie?

Pull it together Michelle.

She hopes his exam went well.

Gosh darn-it.

If she didn’t pull it together soon, she might actually want to take people’s orders.

[hopeisawriter]

The joy that comes with the last chapter

I just finished this fic! I’ve been writing this on and off for like two years, and the joy of finally ending that story so I can focus on another is amazing.

If you are interested, here is that story :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299234/chapters/55803424

[hopeisawriter]

the one time i did this

Brown hair and skin like hot chocolate, white shirt contrasting. Her locs were tied up in a short ponytail, headphones blocking out the cafe white noise. I couldn't keep my eyes off her focused composure.

How I wanted to draw her.

random late night idea: what if I pick a stranger a day and describe them as if they were a character in a book I'm writing.

I think yes.

[hopeisawriter]

A quick excerpt for the sunrise

As the bus rolled onward, sun splashed through the window like waves, a strong glow of gold then back out the window it went.

It’s the only thing that makes waking up this early worth it, and she thinks that if she wasn’t trying to avoid music this week, she would not have noticed it in favour of her thoughts.

The sunrise looked beautiful.

[hopeisawriter]

getting you in your feels

[hopeisawriter]

i have a substack!!

you heard it right folks, if you want more emotion filled existential reading, check it out!

https://hopescribbles.substack.com/p/romanticism-and-existentialism-a?sd=pf

[hopeisawriter]

random late night idea: what if I pick a stranger a day and describe them as if they were a character in a book I'm writing.

I think yes.

[hopeisawriter]

i haven't sent someone a fic request in a long time lol butttt i'm always in need of more euphemia potter treating sirius like her own son

@alkos here is your fic!

Euphemia’s adopted child:

by: @hopepotterwriter

Characters: James Potter, Fleamont Potter, Euphemia Potter, Sirius Black

Summary: the journey of Euphemia basically adopting Sirius Black

Word Count: around 900

———

Euphemia had one son.

That’s what she knew. 

She packed one lunch and set one plate for dinner along with her and Fleamont’s. One wand, one cauldron, and one book for each course.

One was constant, one was lonely, but one was the life she was given.

James was lovely. Playful, mischievous, stubbornly bold.

James was eleven, and they waited.

One morning in the middle of June, a flutter was heard in the Potter household. 

His letter had arrived.

James gladly accepted his Hogwarts letter, Fleamont teaching him all he knew of potions and Euphemia, of charms.

They all waited impatiently and somehow when the day came, it felt as though not even a week had passed.

---

She sat James down and murmured gently, advising him before their trip to platform 9 ¾ that afternoon. 

“The most important thing is to be kind. Don’t make assumptions about lives you know nothing about,” she said, voice solid and heavy.

James, her son, her only son, nodded in understanding.

He sent weekly letters. 

He had made friends, how splendid of him. Remus, Sirius, Peter.

He spoke of all of them but worried about one the most.

Sirius Black.

How he randomly lashed out, never changed his shirt in front of the boys, always smiled until he thought you looked away.

They convinced him to go swimming once. James asked too many questions. He never joined them again.

---

When at 16 James had feverishly called home, yelling and whispering about Sirius in hushed tones about running away from home and bruises and mum, he has nowhere to go-

Euphemia didn't give it a second thought.

She waited at the platform, tapping her heels and brushing off her top.

She scanned around for a young Oliver Twist. A poor, pained boy.

James got off the platform with a star, bright, smiling.

A young man with long, dark hair, eyes twinkling, and a leather jacket atop his uniform. Sure he looked a little rough, she noted dark circles under his eyes and shaking hands, but boys were like that. Weren’t they?

Euphemia frowned. Maybe this was someone else.

But when her eyes looked away for a second, she noted a switch of expression.

Sirius was blinking back tears.

Oh, baby.

She crouched down, looking Sirius in the eyes.

“Hey, hon. You’re with me, okay?”

Sirius looked away, hands clenched, seemingly afraid to breathe. Breath coming in and out at uneven beats.

“You think you’re betraying them, don’t you?” 

Sirius shook his head, glaring at the ground.

“Just stay the night love, and we can talk in the morning, okay?”

Sirius nodded, scuffing his feet against the platform.

“One day,” he replied, throat scratchy and eyes flitting back and forth. Nervous. Worried.

They left the platform shortly after that, James holding his hand tightly.

---

Sirius didn’t know what he expected.

Why did you agree? Mum’s going to kill you when she finds you here! At Potter’s? 

If she finds you here, he corrected his thoughts, cracking his knuckles on a rough mattress. 

“Sorry love, the guest room is quite messy at the moment, but once it’s cleaned, you won’t need to be on this-” Euphemia scanned the mattress, noting tears and dust on the corners. “This uncomfortable mattress. Dinner’s almost ready, okay hun? Ask James if you need to find something.” 

She stood once more in the room, feet tapping on the ground as her hands tucked loose strands of hair behind her ears.

Once she left, Sirius frowned.

This mattress is not uncomfortable at all. If anything, it’s an upgrade. At least there’s a lock on this door and nothing that can be used against me.

---

That night Euphemia had made enough food to feed a village. She listened to Sirius ramble about muggle music and annoying professors.

He rambled on and on, Euphemia smiling to encourage him before he suddenly fell silent.

"Sorry," he mumbled, wincing.

"For what?"

"Talking too much. Mum hates it."

Euphemia frowned.

"I like hearing you talk, God knows I've had my ears chewed off by James. Nice to hear some new insight."

James scrunched his face in mock disbelief. “Hey!”

Sirius looked down with a frown matching hers and fiddled with his hands.

"Are you sure?" He said, voice scratchy.

"Very sure." She smiled softly

The room was silent for a moment before Sirius launched into another topic, all ears listening.

---

Sirius stayed at the Potter household until the end of that summer. 

---

Euphemia had two sons.

This, she was sure of. 

She packed two lunches, and set two plates for dinner along with her and Fleamont’s. Two wands, two cauldrons, and two books for each course.

Two was friendly, two was company, but one was the life she was given. Two was the life she made.

James and Sirius were her sons.

And if anyone told her differently, well- 

She learned charms for a reason, didn’t she?

[hopeisawriter]

I NEED THIS

show, don’t tell:

anticipation - bouncing legs - darting eyes - breathing deeply - useless / mindless tasks - eyes on the clock - checking and re-checking

frustration - grumbling - heavy footsteps - hot flush - narrowed eyes - pointing fingers - pacing / stomping

sadness - eyes filling up with tears - blinking quickly - hiccuped breaths - face turned away - red / burning cheeks - short sentences with gulps

happiness - smiling / cheeks hurting - animated - chest hurts from laughing - rapid movements - eye contact - quick speaking

boredom - complaining - sighing - grumbling - pacing - leg bouncing - picking at nails

fear - quick heartbeat - shaking / clammy hands - pinching self - tuck away - closing eyes - clenched hands

disappointment - no eye contact - hard swallow - clenched hands - tears, occasionally - mhm-hmm

tiredness - spacing out - eyes closing - nodding head absently - long sighs - no eye contact - grim smile

confidence - prolonged eye contact - appreciates instead of apologizing - active listening - shoulders back - micro reactions

[hopeisawriter]

FIC REQUESTS OPEN

just wanted to add that I have the right to reject any, and depending on what you ask for I may or may not be able to write it. however, don’t let that scare you! my asks are open (that’s where you can leave the requests)

I will write max 1k words per request, unless I get carried away, but you can put in a word count if you like between that number!

SOME THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE:

-couples (you can do married though) ex. Spideychelle as bf/gf no, married, sure

-shows I do not know (self explanatory)

-anything I find offensive

-NSFW

I WILL WRITE

-angst

-fluff and domestic fluff

-things that will make people cry.

FANDOMS I WILL WRITE:

-Marvel

-Harry Potter

-B99

-Parks and Rec

-The Good Doctor

-Community

-Superstore

-Squidgame

-Arcane

-Knives Out

(ask, I may have forgotten to add your fandom!)

[hopeisawriter]

What to do when you don’t like a fic: a step by step guide

Step 1:

[hopeisawriter]

Tag game, Fanfic would you rather! (I removed some so go back to the og post if you’d like all the sections)

Thanks for the tag cat!

One-shots or series

Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers

Reader insert or Original Character

Angst or fluff (I only write angst, this is the correct answer)

Mutual pining or unrequited love

Love tringle or fake relationship

Dark fic or soulmate au (i don’t think i’m a fan of either but dark fic fits best with angst)

Fairytale AU or arranged marriage

Hurt comfort or unhappy ending

Coffee shop AU or College AU (COFFEE SHOP AND COLLEGE AU)

tagging: @bataranqs @thechoicewasallmine @theoceanismyinkwell @vrepitspidey

Tag game, Fanfic would you rather!

Copy, paste, and highlight your answers :)

One-shots or series (although I use to prefer one-shots)

Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers

Quick burn or Slow burn

Reader insert or Original Character (both are fine 😌)

Angst or fluff

Mutual pining or unrequited love

Love tringle or fake relationship

In vino veritas or sharing one bed

Dark fic or soulmate au

Fairytale AU or arranged marriage

Bang or die or sex pollen (both ;)

Hurt comfort or unhappy ending

Coffee shop AU or College AU

Porn with plot or porn without plot (aka smut)

Tags: @ckatattack @asgardwinter @trickster-maiden @visbiscuit @imnotrevealingmyname @lostalioth @youlightmeupfinn @sarahscribbles @latent-thoughts and anyone who wants to do it <3

(sorry for being annoying with the tags, you can ignore this if you want to 😭)

[hopeisawriter]

I'm breakin' down/ whispers would deafen me now (moon knight fanfic)

here it is if you want to read!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39157494

Summary: Steven Grant and Marc Spector don't have much time to balance their scales. With the risk of becoming immobilized in sand and Harrow freeing Ammit, can Marc open up to Steven about his past? No matter how painful?

OR

That scene where Steven finds out he's not the original, only it's something else that Marc is hiding from him. Steven is nothing but persistent. Angst and pain ahead.

---

 Young Marc was curled against his dresser, his eyes resembling that of prey, and he was holding an exacto knife.

A hopeful voice in Steven’s head suggested that maybe, it was for a craft.

But younger Marc looked at the blade with reluctance. Desperation. Hunger.

Crafts don't do that to people.

[hopeisawriter]

some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.