#Clara only writes fic once a year

[overtrred28]

Joining the club | Jen Beattie x reader

Summary; 2023 and the start of 2024 seem to have something in common already; everyone in the WOSO community seems to be getting engaged. And when you bring this up to your long term partner Jen, it seems she has nothing to say, or does she….

Pairings; Jen Beattie x famous!reader

Words; 2.5k

Warnings; pure fluff, swearing

A/N; It seems to be the season of getting engaged and even though I am way off getting engaged and very very single, I thought I would pretend and imagine that I was getting engaged to the one and only Jen Beattie. There is also a lack of Jen fics on here and I feel the need to write one for her. Enjoy!

First it was Steph and Dean all the way back in January. Lynn and Marley finally did it back in May. Then in June it was Emily and Kat, and Katrina and Clara just a few days after. Kristie and Sam finally revealed theirs from September after months of teasing. Chloe Kelly and Millie Bright got it within the same week, sharing photos with their partners around christmas. And finally a surprise from Ellie and Daan on the first day of a new year. 

It seemed 2023 and now 2024 was the time for engagements in the world of women’s football and you were quite caught up in all the news. 

“Oh my god babe, another one!” You let out a gasp as the post from Ellie and Daan popped up on your instagram feed, stopping your pre-dinner scrolling as you paused and assessed the picture. It was from a few days ago, and you were seeing it now because you had been away with Jen and her family, avoiding social media to spend time with them and only now catching up. 

“What?” Jen’s voice called from the kitchen, you jumping up from the couch with your phone and running quickly into the kitchen. 

“Look.” You aggressively shoved your phone into her face and she adjusted to the bright light as she tried to look at the photo. 

“Oh wow, congrats to them.” Jen smiled quickly before turning away and back to the food on the stove. You frowned at her quick response and disinterest at the post.

“Do you not think it’s funny?” You asked with a small laugh from beside her. 

“What is?” She asked whilst moving around the kitchen to find the rest of the ingredients for your dinner. 

“That everyone in the footballing world seems to be getting engaged at the moment?” You asked again and she didn’t respond with any excitement, again.

“Oh, guess I didn’t notice.” She shrugged and continued to stir the pot. You opened your mouth to talk again but she got there before you. “Could you grab me some bowls, love?” She asked while keeping her eyes on the pan. You paused for a second before grabbing two clean ones from the dishwasher and placing them next to her. “Thank you.” She smiled at you briefly before beginning to dish up the pasta that was now done. 

“You’re welcome.” You snapped out of your trance and silently moved to grab some glasses and the wine from the fridge. She waited for you to finish pouring your drinks before she grabbed both bowls and headed for the couch, you following close behind her. 

“What are we watching tonight, love?” Jen asked as she sat beside you on the couch, now both holding your dinner and the wine glasses on the coffee table. 

“I don’t mind, you pick.” You shrugged before taking a bite of your food and now it was her turn to frown at you, normally you always took control over what to watch together. 

“You okay?” Jen asked simply and you nodded silently while eating and staring at the screen in front of you. “ Okay, how about Bridgerton? We still haven’t finished season two.” She suggested and once again you nodded silently from beside her. 

You weren’t sure why you were feeling slightly off after Jen’s reaction to the post and your comments, but you still snuggled into her on the couch after finishing your pasta and wine.

The episode finished and you could feel the both of you drifting off after a long day. Jen had been back at training after winter break and your schedule had been hectic since returning from time off. You were an actress and your new movie was about to come out so all the promo shoots and interviews were now in full swing, though you were grateful it began in London so you could still go home to Jen every night.  

You met Jen a few years back at an event in London you had both been invited to, catching her eyes from the other side of the room and instantly knowing you had to go talk to her. You knew who each other were, an actress making her name in the world and a famous sports star who silently followed each other in their respective lines of work. One conversation and you knew there was something there, and so did she. You both knew it would be hard with your professions and the distance you would have at certain times, but you wanted to make it work, somehow keeping it from the public eye for two years before hard launching it on your anniversary and sending both sets of fans into a frenzy. 

“Ready for bed love?” Jen spoke softly into the dark living room, smoothing your hair softly. 

“Definitely.” You yawned and sat up, rubbing your tired eyes as Jen stood up and held a hand out for you. You smiled at the gesture and met your hand in hers, pulling yourself up and making your way to your bedroom together. You both had already showered when you got home earlier so all that was left to do was to brush your teeth together. 

Your night routine was almost the same every night, no matter what was going on in your separate lives, you always spent those last few minutes together before crawling into bed. So once you both finished in the bathroom, you hopped into bed on your chosen sides but made your way closer to the middle and each other, Jen opening her arms to you as you laid your head on her chest.

“Sorry I’ve been quiet, tired.” You mumbled into the darkness against Jen as she drew small circles against your back. 

“It’s okay, me too.” Jen looked down at you to meet your soft eyes. 

“I love you.” You smiled and snuggled into her chest once more, eyes drifting closed. 

“I love you too.” Jen placed a kiss against your head before closing her own eyes and drifting asleep. 

The topic of last night's conversation was mostly forgotten in the morning, or at least it wasn’t brought up again between you too. That didn’t mean it wasn’t brought up with different people. Jen arrived at training and as both Steph and Beth walked up to her, they could tell something was on her mind. 

“You alright there Jenny?” Steph bumped her shoulder as herself and Beth joined her sides. 

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” Jen nodded at them but went silent straight after. 

“You sure?” Beth dragged out her words and brought her face as she could to Jen’s, their height difference proving to be a little difficult.

“Yeah, just thinking.” Jen tried to brush them off again but these two were persistent and she knew she wasn’t going to get very far if she didn’t tell them. She stopped her walking and sighed before speaking. “Last night, Y/N brought up how it seems like everyone’s getting engaged at the moment, and I didn’t really say anything back. And then she seemed upset for the rest of the night, but she said she was just tired, which I know she has been, but I also think I might have upset her in some way.” She let out in almost one breath as Steph and Beth tried to process her words. 

“Well she’s not wrong, especially in the last few weeks.” Beth added with a shrug. 

“Do you think she’s ready?” Steph ignored Beth’s comment and looked at Jen.

“Well, I wasn’t sure before, but after last night I think she is.” Jen looked between the two of them. “Just the way she was talking about it and then when I didn’t really say anything…” She trailed off and looked down. 

“I think she’s ready.” Steph spoke with a smile. She had watched from the beginning of your relationship with Jen just how happy you were with one another, and how easy the relationship seemed even when spending time apart due to work. 

“Are you?” Beth asked sincerely, her and Steph awaiting Jen’s reply. Jen was silent for a few seconds, bringing her eyes back up to look at her best friends. 

“I bought the ring like 2 months ago.” She mumbled but they still heard it and instantly started beaming at the Scottish woman. 

“You sly little bastard.” Beth punched Jen’s arm softly as they began to walk again so that they wouldn’t be late for training. 

Throughout the whole day the three of them, mostly Steph and Beth, were coming up with ideas on how she should propose but Jen kept shooting them down. She wanted it to be private, special and a surprise, so anything that involved taking you out somewhere would instantly make you suspicious. 

While Jen had been conversing her thoughts and plans with her best friends at training, you were in your head all day thinking about last night. Which wasn’t really helping especially when you were trying to film press interviews all day and talk about your movie. 

You could have talked to your co-stars about it, after all they had become close friends while shooting and now being with each other everyday for promo, but the only person you really wanted to talk to was Jen; it was always Jen. 

Jen got home long before you, taking her time to deep clean the flat and cook dinner for you once again, knowing you would be exhausted from your long day of work. 

She didn’t hear you opening the door and making your way through the flat, she had been vacuuming with her headphones on and dancing around your bedroom. You stood in the doorway for a few minutes after spotting her, admiring her and waiting for her to see you. And when she did, boy did she get a fright. 

“Ah fuck!” Jen almost jumped out of her skin when she finally turned around and spotted you lurking in the doorway, using one hand to remove her headphones and the other to turn the vacuum off. “How long have you been standing there?” She dropped the vacuum and began to walk over to you. 

“A few minutes. I was admiring your hidden dance skills.” You smiled and stood up straighter, welcoming her into a hug like you do every day. “Hi.” You mumbled into her shoulder. 

“Hi love.” She pulled back and leaned in for a soft kiss. No matter how many times you kiss Jen, it feels like the very first time all over again, even after 4 years. “Busy day?” She asked as you parted, taking in your tired expression. 

“Busy day.” You nodded and smiled at her. “How was training?” You asked as you walked hand and hand to the kitchen. 

“Good, good to be back with the girls.” Jen smiled at you before letting go to retrieve dinner from the oven. You stood at the counter, simply watching her as she moved about wrapping up dinner. “Go put something on, I’ve got it.” Jen smiled and placed a kiss on your temple before ushering you to the lounge room.

“Okay bossy.” You laughed before making your way to the couch and switching the TV over to Netflix to finish the final episode of Bridgerton. You wait patiently for her on the couch, looking over your shoulder every few seconds to see if she is coming around the corner. 

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Jen is trying to hide her anxiety and nervousness as she plates up dinner and feels her pocket one more time. With two champagne glasses now full and a tray full of food she finally makes her way to you, letting out a final breath before entering the living room. 

“Dinner is served.” She places the tray down on the table and bows which makes you laugh. Your eyes fall on the glasses and you’re instantly confused. 

“What’s with the champagne? Decide the wine wasn’t good enough?” You joked and she let out a small laugh shaking her head. 

“Some nights are a little more special than the others.” She cryptically says and has you even more confused but you leave the comment alone and hit play on the remote. 

You eat dinner together while watching the episode, silently watching with a bit of commentary along the way before cuddling up after eating. The episode finishes and you can feel Jen’s heart beating particularly fast, her fingers are nervously playing with one another and she hasn’t spoken in a few minutes. You sit up silently and look at her, she doesn’t look at you. You’re about to fill the silence when she beats you to it. 

“You know how much I love you, right?.” Jen rushes out and leaves you slightly bewildered. 

“I know. I love you just as much.” You reply. “What’s wrong?” You bring your hand up to brush her hair back into her low bun. 

“I’m about to do something and I hope you don’t think it’s random and forced because it’s not and I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and I didn’t want to make a massive deal about it because it’s just you and me and that’s all that matters.” Jen speaks in one long breath and you need a second for your brain to catch up but before it can she’s pulling you up off the couch with her and standing in front of you. She holds your hands in hers and looks directly at you. 

“Wha-” Before you could even think about finishing your sentence, a giant gasp leaves your mouth at her next action. She drops down to one knee whilst still holding holding your hands, smiling up at you as tears well in your eyes. 

“My love, I could go on and on about how much I love you but you already know. There is no one else I would rather spend the rest of my life with, no matter where it shall take us. So,” She let go of your hands, you bringing them up to your face and hers reaching down into her pocket. She fishes the small, black box out, opening it to reveal a sparkling ring and looks back up at you. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you-” 

“YES!” You interrupt her before she gets to finish causing her to laugh and shake her head. 

You just stand there admiring her as she gets up and removes the ring from the box. She brings your shaking left hand from your face and slides the ring on. Your jaw drops at the ring before you jump into her arms, causing her to react quickly and grab hold of your legs. “I love you so much Jen.” You cry into her shoulder as she holds you before you lift your head up, meeting your eyes with hers before pulling in for a kiss. 

The rest of the night is spent in one another's arms just admiring each other and talking softly with each other about the rest of your lives while wrapped up in your sheets.

yourinstagram and jbeattie91

yourinstagram we joined the club 💍

liked by jbeattie91, stephcatley, bethmead_ and 834,032 others

stephcatley so happy for you! welcome to the club 😉

bethmead_ about time jen jen. congrats 🥰

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THE END!

[bumblebeedrizzzle]

You Can’t Fool Me

In which Iruma gets injured for the first time in the demon realm.

This fic contains ✨tickling✨ so if that might bother you, then I suggest you keep scrolling!

A/N: I’m really happy with how this turned out!! I wanted to write some good old angst/comfort. I also felt like challenging myself to write what would happen if Azz was angry/frustrated with Iruma. I feel like it's a side of him we haven’t seen yet. Also, Iruma is generally a cheerful guy, but I feel like the inside of his brain must be a mess sometimes. He had a really hard life and still probably struggles with believing he deserves love (show him otherwise, everyone!). I feel like he would be quite reluctant to ask for/accept help since he’s so used to taking care of himself.

Also, LOL. This started because I wanted to write a princess carry scene. It wasn’t even meant to have any tickling. Then it became this. I’m not upset at all, just amused.

CW: Some cursing

Well, shit. Now he’d really done it. Iruma looked down at his ankle, already beginning to swell slightly, and sighed. It’d been a minute since he’d felt so human here. He stopped to think for a moment; he knew enough about the demon realm by now to know that weakness wasn’t something to go flaunting around. But then, he was used to taking care of himself from his time back on earth. There was no need to bother anyone; getting home by himself would be no issue. That left what to do after... Should he ask Opera or his Grandpa for help once he got back? It was only a sprained ankle, so he didn’t want to overthink things. After all, how many injuries had he patched up over the years back in the human world? He took another deep breath as he realized there was no point in making a deal out of such a minor injury. First he’d get home, then find some wraps, and take care of it. He’d be careful on his way to and from school and this would be over within a few days. Problem solved. Thank devils Clara and Azz hadn’t been here to witness his blunder... He had a feeling they might have overreacted some. Feeling satisfied that he’d worked through everything, he picked himself back up and began hobbling home.

• • •

Everything was fine. Everything was just fine. All he had to do was focus on the next step. Then another. That’s all there was to it. Or at least, that’s what Iruma was telling himself so he didn’t lose the will to walk and just sit down. For the past few days, he’d tried icing it, elevating it, and wrapping it. The whole nine yards. It had helped a little, but devils did the thing hurt. It hurt so bad. It didn’t seem to get any better either, only worse. It looked more swollen than before and he couldn’t put most of his weight on it. But he was stubborn and a little scared. He’d gotten through worse and now wasn’t the time to fold. Not to mention that the idea of missing school and not seeing his friends sounded so much worse.

He was currently walking to his next class with Azz. His attention was torn between staying focused on their conservation and focusing on his footing. It was just his luck that a rock would appear the moment he took to look up at Azz’s face. Before he knew it, he had stumbled and found himself falling forward.

Damn, was I always this clumsy?

He braced himself for pain, hoping it wouldn’t make his injury worse than it already was. This is fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.

“Iruma-sama!”

He didn’t hit the ground. He blinked, trying to process what had happened. He felt Azz’s arm was wrapped protectively around him, steadying him.

“T-thanks Azz-kun! Whoops, haha, silly me. Have to watch where I step...”

“Iruma-sama, are you alright? Are you tired? I could carry some things for you?”

Iruma took one look at Asmodeus’ worried face and gulped. I don’t want to make anyone worry about me. It’s fine. I’m fine.

“Nothing to worry about! Especially thanks to your reflexes,” he added.

“You may be able to fool others, but you cannot fool me, Iruma-sama.” Azz said seriously. “What is going on?” He still hadn’t let go.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about Azz-kun! Come on, let’s get going to class”, he said with what he hoped was a convincing smile.

He gently shrugged out of the demon’s grasp and took a tentative step forward. Then another and another. Asmodeus followed after a moment. As Iruma gained confidence, he began to walk faster, determined to prove to Azz that he was fine. Unfortunately, pure determination was not going to heal his ankle that fast. Within a minute, he managed to tweak his sprained ankle again.

“Guh!” he said, crumpling to the ground.

Iruma closed his eyes. This was so embarrassing... He didn’t want to see Azz’s reaction. While deep down he knew it would be fine, he was still scared. What if Azz laughed at him? Or called him weak?? His heart twisted painfully at the idea. Plus he’d just told the demon he was fine. I am fine. I’m...fine. He repeated the mantra to himself, as if that would make it come true. Iruma was so caught up in his ruminations, that he didn’t hear Azz approach. He only noticed when he felt a soft hand above his ankle; the injured one. He frantically tried to pull away, but Azz’s grip was as firm as it was gentle. He heard an audible gasp, which he knew there could only be one cause for. Shit. Even though he had it bandaged, Azz would still be able to see that it was purple and definitely swollen. Iruma reluctantly looked up into Azz’s worried eyes and immediately felt so, so guilty.

“Iruma-sama, why didn’t you tell me??”

He was having trouble looking into those eyes.

“I-it's not that big of a deal... just a sprained ankle...”

“What do you mean, not a big deal?? A paper-cut is not a big deal, Iruma-sama. A stubbed toe is not a big deal. Hells, a scratch wouldn’t be that big of a deal. A sprained ankle is. a. big. deal. This is a big deal! Look at how swollen it is!! And purple! When did you even injure it? Has it gotten better at all?!” Asmodeus’ voice steadily raised in volume.

“Just a couple days ago... I’ve been elevating and icing it after school. I didn’t want to miss class.. I wanted to see everyone... I didn’t want to appear weak...” his voice got quieter and quieter.

“I see you have neglected to answer the more important question. Has. it. gotten. better. or. worse.”

Iruma was silent.

“For devil’s sake, you shouldn’t even be walking on this; it will take even longer to heal!! What in the hells has gotten into you?”

Iruma screwed his eyes shut and tried his best to curl up into a ball. Not only had he failed to keep his injury hidden, but now Asmodeus was angry with him. He couldn’t even remember the last time that had happened..

He heard a sigh and suddenly Asmodeus spoke,

“Look, I do not want to be angry at you. I am.. not angry. But, I am frustrated, and a little hurt. Iruma-sama, how would you feel if you were in my place?”

Iruma’s heart throbbed painfully.

“I would.. be worried about you, of course.”

“Then please, you have to take better care of yourself. Do not treat yourself any differently than you would if I or Valec got injured. And it would not kill you to let us help you either.”

“But I can take care of myself just fine, Azz-kun!” he pleaded. “Look, it’s wrapped and I’ve been trying my best. I’ve gotten through much worse!”

Azz’s eyes widened at this. The frustration seemed to melt out of him, replaced with intense concern.

“What do you mean...?”

Iruma looked away as he said,

“I’m not used to receiving help from anyone! I don’t want to be a burden!”

“But, your grandfather..? And Opera-san..? Are you saying they don’t....? That they wouldn’t help..?”

“N-no! Of course not!” Iruma hurriedly said. “I... haven’t always lived with them, though.”

Asmodeus waited to see if Iruma would elaborate, but after several moments in silence decided that today was not the day he would hear about it. He pulled Iruma into a hug, careful not to disturb the injured ankle.

“Fine. I will not pry further today. Just.. understand that we care about you. We are here to help you.” He murmured into Iruma’s hair.

Asmodeus noticed the way Iruma’s shoulders relaxed at this, and it made him feel a bit more like he’d gotten through to his friend.

“All right, we need to get you to the school nurse.”

The shoulder tension was back immediately.

“Are you sure...? I thought it would make me seem weak?”

“Hells no, there’s a difference between sustaining an injury and just being weak. I do not know how you could even question something so obviously wrong. You? Weak? With your rank? It is absolutely absurd to even consider it. Now, let’s get going.”

Asmodeus gathered their things. Iruma moved to try to stand.

“What in the hells do you think you are you doing?”

Iruma tried to recall if he had ever heard Azz curse this much before.

“Um, trying to stand up?”

“On that ankle? I should think not,” Asmodeus scoffed. He returned with their bags on his back. With a quick motion, he swept his arms underneath Iruma’s knees and around his shoulders.

“Wah!?” Iruma spluttered. “A-Azz-kun?? W-what are you doing??”

“What does it look like, Iruma-sama? I am carrying you to the nurse’s office of course.”

“I-I must be heavy though! A-and you have the bags too?”

Asmodeus’ eyes flashed dangerously.

“Are you trying to imply that I am too weak?”

“N-no that isn't what I meant! I just don’t want to trouble you!”

“Trouble me? Please.”

“But… Azz-kun…,” Iruma stammered.

“Would you please stop squirming and just let me take care of you?!” Asmodeus huffed.

The magic word did its thing. Iruma was still very much embarrassed, and still wanted to protest but well... Asmodeus had said please. He never could say no to that.

“I-I suppose..”

“A simple thank you would suffice at a time like this, Iruma-sama. It is my greatest honor to support you in any way I can. Never doubt that.”

Iruma turned a few shades darker red and mumbled “thank you..”, but found himself still quietly fidgeting. It didn’t compare to the actual fight he’d been putting up a minute ago, but it was clearly irking Asmodeus. After a few more steps the demon said,

“If you want to squirm so badly Iruma-sama, shall I give you a reason to?”

Iruma looked up at Asmodeus’ deceivingly bright smile and shivered. His whole face screamed,

Danger!! Do not engage!!

But before Iruma could say anything at all, Azz slipped his fingers into Iruma’s armpit and began lightly scribbling. Seeing how Azz was also carrying him, and had a pretty tight grip, Iruma was totally stuck.

“Wahaha! W-wahahait Ahahahazz-kun! P-please! Hehe!”

“You’re lucky that I need to get you to the nurse’s office, or I think I would tickle you silly so you would never consider doing this again. My goodness, what am I going to do with you, Iruma-sama?”

“Pffft! I-I’m ehehe!! I’m sohohorry! I won’t do it ahahagain, p-promise!!”

Asmodeus seemed to consider this for a moment, then flashed his fangs in another blinding smile.

“Actually, no. I have decided. I will tickle you silly after your ankle has properly healed. Please prepare yourself, Iruma-sama.”

Iruma gulped. He felt flustered and embarrassed, but also a little giddy at the thought.

“For now though, I’ll just distract you with tickles until we get to the nurse’s office. Maybe that’ll stop these ridiculous notions that you’re bothering me from coming out of your mouth.”

“Ahahahazz-kuhuhun! Nohohoho!”

“Oh, Iruma-sama. You got yourself into this mess, you will just have to take it. Tickle tickle, you’ve got nowhere to run.”

“Nahahaha! P-plehehease s-stohop!”

“The tickling or the teasing?” Asmodeus asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“B-bohohoth! Eep! Ihihit tihihickles soho bahahad!”

“Hmmm, no. That doesn’t sound like my problem. Maybe you should have thought about this before you kept your injury from me, tried to walk it off, and implied I was too weak to carry you and our bags”

“B-buhuhut! I-I cahahahan’t mohohohove! EEK! Wahaha, it tickles!! Ihihihit tihihihickles!!”

“Does it now? A fascinating revelation, Iruma-sama.”

Iruma’s laughter went silent for a moment. Azz continued,

“At this rate, you’ll be lucky if I don’t carry you around the rest of today. And the next few days. We shall see what the nurse says. And no matter what, you will be going home in your grandfather’s carriage today.”

Iruma laughed and giggled the whole way to the nurse’s office, all worries of being perceived as weak completely gone. He went home in the carriage, at Asmodeus’ suggestion, and apologized to his Grandfather and Opera-san for keeping the injury from them. He resolved to work on letting his friends and family help him in the future. It was easier said than done, but whenever his resolve wavered, Asmodeus was there to give him a gentle, giggly reminder.

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.1

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which you pack your bags for paris, still unsure of whether or not you’ll return to london for anything other than the rest of your belongings, and anakin is forced to reach out to liz after she crosses another line.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Guilt had followed Anakin all week.

He talked to you for a good hour over the phone on Wednesday, and not once did he mention the fact that Liz had kissed him. He knew the longer he kept it from you, the worse it’ll be for him, but he was terrified of your reaction. 

Anakin had been faithful for nearly five years straight, and the one time he’s away from you for more than a few days he lets another girl get close to him. Close enough for him to break that streak in a single night. 

He knew that as soon as he told you, it could very well be over, and he never wanted to lose you, let alone because of something so out of character for him. 

Still, it wasn’t fair for you to be kept out of the loop, and though he hated to do it, he’d rather tell you in person. He could only hope that you saw it from his perspective, and how hard he’s been trying to get rid of her. 

Anakin was sitting on the couch, the passing scenery doing wonders at keeping his mind busy. He wanted to call you, but you told him that you needed to sort some things out today, and he’d just have to wait until you were able to talk. 

He had headphones on with the track Vinny and Theo had recorded during all the time Anakin spent with Liz, and he felt like the worst excuse of a friend and band member ever. 

They were actually trying to get music out while he just went out and partied. But he wouldn’t be doing that anymore. 

If one good thing came out of that whole club situation and the wake up call, it was that Anakin was finally inspired to write. Theo had come up with the idea to create a slower song rather than the loud and intense songs they’ve been playing for the last year and a half. He was sure it was because the bass player was feeling down a lot lately and needed a way to vent, and Anakin and Vinny were more than willing to agree to it. 

He listened to the track on repeat as he thought about possible lyrics, and Anakin was happy that Vinny had decided to try his luck with a piano. He played it for about four years before he switched to drums, but he clearly still knew how to play the string instrument as it sounded amazing through his headphones. 

Before long, he had a whole page done and was starting his second when Vinny emerged from the back of the bus. His hair was a mess, signaling to Anakin that he had just woken up from a nap. 

Anakin could probably use a few more hours of sleep, too, but he knew it would never come. He’d just end up tossing and turning and wasting time, so he didn’t even bother. 

Vinny sat down next to him with a huff, taking the notebook out of Anakin’s hands as he did so. Anakin scoffed at him, taking off his headphones and setting them aside as he turned to face his friend. “Is this for a new song?” Vinny asked with a yawn as he read over the page.

“Yeah,” Anakin answered, grabbing his phone and sending you a quick text. 

Vinny set the notebook aside after reading it over. “Sounds good,” he mumbled. “Glad to see you got your inspiration back.”

“Yeah, but at what cost,” Anakin muttered.

“Anakin, Y/n will understand,” he tried to reassure him, but probably knew that it was pointless as Anakin would continue to feel like shit until he knew for sure that he wouldn’t lose you because of the mistake he made with Liz.

So when he didn’t respond, Vinny just shook his head and stood back up. He rummaged around in the mini fridge before grabbing two water bottles and heading back to Clara, leaving Anakin to finish up the song he had titled ‘Falling’.

-

“I feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time,” you confessed as you sat on the grass in the Quad. “I completely messed up that last assignment. I didn’t even try.” 

Evan gave you a pointed look as he sipped from the straw of his smoothie. “You’re not wasting everyone’s time, Y/n,” he stated, making you roll your eyes. “I’m serious. Kenneth would’ve sent you running on the first day if he thought you were wasting his time.”

You shrug and look at different flights on your phone. “Maybe, but I still accused him of favoring me when he was literally just trying to be nice,” 

“Y/n,” Evan called out to you, making you look up. “You’re a good writer. You’re one of the best in the class, don’t think that you’re not. One bad piece doesn’t make you a bad writer, you know that.”

You shrug again, sipping on your own smoothie. “Yeah, I guess,” 

Evan set down his drink and moved closer to you. “I mean it. You’re going places…if you decide to stay, that is. While it’ll certainly give me a better chance at getting published, it’ll still suck to lose you. But if you’re no longer happy here, then you deserve to do something that does make you happy.”

You give him a smile and lean over to hug him quickly. “Thanks, Ev,” 

He returned the hug before standing up. “Are you coming to class today?” 

You think about it for a few seconds then shake your head. “No, I have some thinking to do,”

He nods and gives you a reassuring smile. “Okay, I’ll just see you later then,”

You nod back and watch as he makes his way to the building the class is in before pulling out your phone. 

Ani: I hope you’re having a better day today, baby. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I love you. 

The text brings a smile to your lips as you stand up and throw away your garbage as you reply to him.

So far so good. I can’t wait to see you, too, Ani. I love YOU.

You head in the opposite direction of your class, planning on going back to your room and packing your bag for Paris. Maybe you’d even start packing up to go back home. While Evan’s attempts at reassuring you were nice, you still didn’t feel confident in yourself anymore. 

Anakin had even tried to reassure you, but he also said that you didn’t have to force yourself to stay if it wasn’t what you wanted anymore, and to have that support from him had your head feeling clearer than it had in weeks. 

If all else failed, you still always had him, and that was enough for you to know that you’d be okay. 

You pack the essentials and set your bag down next to your desk before sitting down on your bed. Grabbing your phone, you begin to look through more flight options. There was one for three in the afternoon, meaning you’d be able to be in Paris by five thirty at the latest. You’d have to swing by class tomorrow to talk to Kenneth, and to possibly say goodbye to him. 

You really weren’t sure if you were going to come back for anything other than the rest of your belongings once Anakin and the guys leave France and you’d have to say goodbye again. Maybe you could just pack the rest of your things and meet him at the next location. You wouldn’t mind sharing that small bunk with him for the next two months, and you knew he wouldn’t mind either. 

Without another thought, you buy the ticket and set your phone down, pulling out your laptop and continuing to write the rough draft of your short story, despite your plans potentially dropping the class.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, and before you knew it, it was the next morning and you were packing last minute things and making sure you had your ticket ready. You set everything on your bed, excitement pulsing through you at the fact that you’d be seeing Anakin in less than nine hours.

His text had you feeling the happiest you’ve been all week, and you had shamelessly read it more than once. 

Ani: I can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve missed you so much, princess.

He was the sweetest, and you were shaking with nerves at the thought of feeling his arms around you again after four weeks of zero physical contact.

You leave your dorm and make your way to class, well aware that it had ended at nine and it was now nearing ten. With a quick inhale, you enter the classroom and meet Kenneth’s eyes from across the room. He was sitting at his desk, his brow furrowed as he looked back down at the papers he was reading. “Miss Y/l/n,” he greeted in a monotone voice. “Glad to see you could make it to class today, though you are an hour late and the class is already over.”

Giving him a forced and embarrassed smile, you step into the room. “Yeah,” you trail off, playing with your fingers as you stand by the door. “I’m sorry I missed the last two classes, it’s just….I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”

Kenneth didn’t look up from the papers as he said, “Well, you’ve certainly done a great job at trying to prove that,” 

Your face heats up and you look at the floor. “Yeah…I’m really sorry, Kenneth,” you murmur, glancing down at the A on your wrist. You feel the smallest bit of comfort from just looking at it, and you lift your head with a newfound confidence. “I didn’t mean to waste your time. That was the last thing I wanted to do.” 

That had your instructor looking up at you. He studied your face for a few seconds before sitting up in his chair. “You didn’t waste my time, Miss Y/l/n,” he stated. “In fact, I quite enjoyed reading your previous pieces, so I don’t know why you think you wasted anyone’s time.”

You shrug at him and avoid eye contact. You just needed to get through this, then you could go to the airport and be with Anakin again after a month of not seeing him. 

“I assume you came here to tell me that you’re dropping out?” Kenneth asks and you look over at him.

“Do you think I should?” You ask.

“That’s not up to me,” he says. “It’s your choice.”

You huff, “Do you think I’m…..good enough?”

Kenneth raises his brows. “Do I think you’re good enough?” He repeated your question and leaned back. “I think you’re a great writer, Miss Y/l/n, and it would be  unfortunate to lose you before I got to really see what you can do. But, it’s your decision, and I can’t make it for you.”

You give him a small smile and nod. “Right. I guess that’s a good answer,” 

He returns the smile before asking, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m….my boyfriend is performing at a few venues in Paris, so I’m going to meet him there,” you tell him. “I’m sorry, but I’ll be missing a few classes next week.”

Kenneth nods. “It might be best for you to take some time to figure out what you want to do,” he says. “If you decide to stay, there’s always a spot for you in my class, but if you want to go then I can’t stop you. But just know that one bad piece doesn’t make you a bad writer, and you shouldn’t let it have that much control over you.”

Your smile fades a bit at how similar his and Evan’s words are. Maybe they were right. “I’m trying,”

He shrugged, “That’s all you can do,” 

A few seconds pass before you nod. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to be rushing to the airport,” 

“Before you go,” he called out to you just as you began to turn around. “I want you to know that, whatever you decide to do, I support you.”

That had a genuine smile forming on your lips. “Thank you, Kenneth, and I’m sorry for…everything,”

Then you were off. You headed back to your room to grab your bag, finding Evan leaning against the wall next to your door. Your look of surprise had him raising his brows, “What, you thought I was gonna let you leave without saying goodbye to me first? Especially since I might never see you again after this?”

You laugh and walk into his open arms. “I haven’t decided if I’m dropping the class or not, Ev,” you say and rest your head against his chest. “And I’d say goodbye to you before I left, anyway.” 

“How generous,” he teased and pulled away. His eyes flickered all over your face before he met your gaze. “Have fun, okay? Go spend time with your famous boyfriend, and don’t worry about anything else, alright? You deserve it.”

You smile and nod, “Okay,” you agree. “I’ll see you next week, Evan. Promise.”

He squinted his eyes at you. “You better,” he said back, giving you another smile before leaving. You grab your bag and look around your room one last time before setting down the note you had written to Bailey. She was still at her parents house since there was some family emergency, and you didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to her. 

You leave it on her bed before locking the door and ordering a ride to the airport, the stress of everything finally beginning to lift once you’re seated on the plane. 

-

Anakin could not stop pacing the length of the small hallway on the bus. 

He was shaking, he was so excited to see you. 

He couldn’t think about much else other than your sweet scent, your kind smile, your achingly pretty face, and the way your body fit perfectly against his own. He was craving your touch and the sound of your voice. He couldn’t believe he had gone a month without you.

Vinny was watching him with a tired expression, his arm draped over Clara’s shoulders as she slept next to him on the couch. “Dude,” he grunted after watching him pace a few more times. “What are you doing? Why are you pacing?”

Anakin flexed his fingers as he shrugged, passing by the brunet once again. “I can’t help it,” he answered. “I have to leave in less than half an hour to pick her up and bring her back here. Half an hour, Vin, then she’s here.”

Vinny let out a laugh of disbelief, glancing down at his sleeping girlfriend. “I hope she’s this excited to see me at some point in the future,” he muttered to himself as Anakin tried to calm himself down. 

“I missed her so much, Vin,”

“I know,”

“I can’t wait to see her,”

“I know, Anakin,”

“Please tell me that you and Clara are doing something tonight,” Anakin was powerless to stop the desperation from coming through in his voice.

Vinny smirked up at him, “Is that your way of asking if the bus will be empty tonight?”

“I need to be alone with her,” Anakin groaned. “I need it to be just the two of us, so we can talk. I need to clear a few things up with her.”

Vinny laughed. “I understand, man,” he said. “I’ll take Clara out for dinner or something and we’ll tour the Paris nightlife.”

Anakin gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” then he checked his phone and nearly dropped it when he saw Liz’s newest Instagram post. “Fuck.”

It was a close up picture of Anakin on stage a couple nights ago, his hair damp and his skin sweaty as he finished the last song of the set. He remembered feeling the high of that night, and he would’ve been happy to see that Liz had captured a photo of it, but right now all he felt was rage as he read the caption. 

elizaphotography: Thought you’d all enjoy a hot, up close and personal shot of the sexy lead singer of Screaming Whispers ;) 

She added a bunch of stupid hashtags and even tagged him, and Anakin wanted to throw his phone at the nearest wall. Vinny must’ve sensed the sudden change as he sat up a bit and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“She- I can’t fucking believe her,”

Vinny reached forward and grabbed his phone, his gaze hardening once he saw the post. “Wow, this bitch won’t quit,” he muttered, reading the caption over and over again. “She must think she’s invincible or some shit, because- what are you doing?”

Anakin had swiped his phone out of Vinny’s hand and clicked on Liz’s contact as he left the bus, hoping that the air would cool him off at least a little. It rang for a few seconds before the call connected, “Ah, I knew that would get your attention,”

“Back off, Liz,” Anakin rasped, leaning against the side of the bus as he felt his heartbeat quicken. “I mean it.”

“You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, Anakin,” she stated. “You’re acting like a prick. I thought we were friends.”

“You thought wrong,” he said and tried to take back control of his breathing. “Change that caption, or better yet, delete the entire fucking post.”

Liz hummed, “Thought I was allowed to post you? In fact, it’s on the contract that I get your image out there for the world to see,” she laughed. “Well, it says something like that, anyway.”

“I’m not joking, Liz,” he muttered under his breath, and her annoying voice had his body heating up in rage.

“I’m not joking either, Anakin,” she said back. “You led me on. I can claim that. Don’t piss me off, Anakin, or I’ll tell Y/n myself that you cheated on her.”

“I didn’t-”

“But you did,” she cut him off. “I’m living proof.”

“What do you want, Liz? Huh?” Anakin asked in frustration as he tugged on his hair. “Why do you insist on being such a-”

“A what, Anakin? What?” She pressed. “Call me anything other than my name, and I’ll message her right now.”

Anakin bit his tongue, holding back on calling her every bad name he could think of, because it really wouldn’t help much at all. “Keep her out of this,” he said as calmly as he could. He didn’t like her holding you over him like this when she had no fucking clue about anything involving yours and his relationship. She was just the fucking tour photographer, why did she think she had such an important role in his life? 

“Yeah,” she hummed. “Maybe I’ll do that.” 

Then she hung up and Anakin cursed under his breath as he opened the Instagram app. He deleted all the photos she took of him from his account, wanting nothing to do with her at all anymore. Sure, the photos were great and he actually liked them quite a lot, but he refused to be associated with her in any way. 

Before he got off the app, he clicked on Liz’s account and saw that she did actually change the caption, but it still didn’t settle the anger brewing within him. Without a second thought, he blocked her and pocketed his phone after calling a ride that would take him to the airport and to you.

-

They reunite soon :') (but is that a good thing?)

[thegildedbee]

Sherlock Fic Recs: Christmas Edition {2023}

❄️ Gather ~ ☃️ ☃️ ☃️ ~ 'round and 🎉 make 🎷merry🍹, all ye fic-loving fandom elves -- 'tis the season to shine a spotlight🕯️on Sherlockian Christmas fics!!! Here are some of my favorites -- I tried to pick ones that I haven't seen mentioned in recent lists that have been in my tumblr stream. Whether they're new to you, or just a reminder to re-visit faves, enjoy!!! ❄️ [In order of the year they were published.] ........................................................... 1. I'm Not His Date [2014] by objetpetita [ 17,029 words / T ] :: It all starts in a Boston coffee shop, where English professor Sherlock Holmes upends a visiting John Watson in a clever and fun "meet cute" (or "meet irritating-pompous-insufferable") in a whirlwind of Sherlockian proportions, and we're off to the races. There is a snowfight on the Common, Death Driving Miss Daisy: Lacan and Popular Culture, a Harry & Clara Christmas Eve wedding, witches, and a very boozy department party. It's as adorable as my favorite Christmas rom-com film, The Holiday. And it starts off with a corker of a first sentence: "It was morning, it was zero bloody degrees, everything around him was unfamiliar and American and cold, and John Watson was right on that inhuman precipice between still drunk and terribly hung over."

2. 5,687 (Approximately) [2015] by prettysailorsoldier [ 6,771 words / T ] :: Just a few years post-uni, Sherlock is enduring the agonies of a long-distance relationship with his boyfriend, who is on deployment in Afghanistan. During those times when John's on leave, the last people Sherlock wants to see are the idiots at the Met, so they've never caught sight of John and think he is a figment of Sherlock's imagination -- especially since he can't get home that Christmas. The set-up is sketched out with delightful fic flair, and the ending is not only sweet, but satisfyingly punitive [ c/o a very bamf John ]. The text messaging is some of my favorite writing in the Sherlock fandom -- their relationship in all of its multi-dimensionality comes through beautifully.

3. The 12 Truths of Christmas [2016] by @breath4soul [ 3,321 words / T ] :: This is a fic that has at its core the surfacing of unspoken emotional attraction betweenJohn and Sherlock via a very fun concept: “In place of some appalling or imbecilic gift inflicted upon me in the name of tradition on Christmas day, I propose that you provide me with one previously unknown fact about you for each day leading up to Christmas. 12 in total, John.” #9 has all the feels, and is a tour de force -- every time I re-read it it makes me break out in a smile, even though I know what's coming. Sherlock breaks out somewhat more: "Sherlock feels a flood of heat in several places at once. He stands up quickly and walks to his violin. He plays wild, erratic snaps of quick-paced music." The author has a whimsical and entirely understandable note to add: "You may fall in love with John reading this - I did." 4. The Romance Was There [2017] by @apliddell [ 4,011 words / G ] :: The author deserves an award for this being one of the best uses of Harry Watson in a fic, and of HW by Sherlock in a fic :-) 221B has never been cozier, Sherlock has never been more winsome, and John is a species type model of John in all of his clueless Johnness. The narrative dances along and sparkles and shines as seduction evolves, and Sherlock's rogueish charm is on full display. There's a poignant and endearing confessional letter, plus there's a Sherlock/Jeremy Brett reference that is absolute perfection in serving its role in helping the narrative quickstep the night away. 5. The Man in Aisle Ten [2020] by @blogstandbygo [ 1395 words / G ] :: Sherlock has several mysteries to unravel in the midst of Harrod's on Christmas Eve: what is the perfect gift for John? why is he having so much trouble identifying the perfect gift for John? and, incidentally, along the way to solving those, a local one. Luckily, Sherlock has Moira, master department store sleuth, to lead him to the solution. This fic is a small, perfect gift -- rather like the story's denouement --and is as witty as all of SBG's fics are. This is a veritable Peppermint Schnapps Hot Chocolate of a fic, warm, rich, sweet, delicious, tingly, and you'll find you reach the last bit much too fast, immediately requiring a refill. [ And there's a splendid podfic by @podfixx ! ]

..........................

*fic repost recruits, perhaps??? ❤️ @totallysilvergirl, @7-percent, @discordantwords, @helloliriels, @elwinglyre, @mydogwatson

[astriiformes]

hello!! this is kit. happy birthday!!! you don't have to answer all of these but

🎞️if you could change one scene from any of the movies, which one would you change and how?

⏲️what time period would you want marty to travel to and what would you want him to do? for fun or for something serious?

💫if you have any bttf related wips, here's the oppurtunity to ramble about them! (<-PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLSEPLSPEL)

Thank you!!

🎞️ - If you could change one scene from any of the movies, which one would you change and how?

Oof, just one scene is difficult, because the thing I'd like to change most would be how Jennifer's plot was handled in the second movie, and that requires a bit more overhauling. I think you could still make it better with a little tweaking though -- maybe she doesn't get knocked out and is simply told to stay watch the DeLorean, which still ends up being a problem when she tries to lure someone away from it, or something like that.

I guess that still modifies more like two scenes, but you get the idea! Anything to make her feel like she's got a little more agency. Because I like her a lot and it bothers me that the BttF movies aren't even that terrible at writing women (Lorraine and Clara are both really interesting characters!), but sidelined her anyways.

⏲️- What time period would you want Marty to travel to and what would you want him to do? For fun or for something serious?

Already answered this one but since there are plenty of time periods to choose from I will simply pick another. As someone who studies the history of science, I think that Doc and Marty could get up to some peak shenanigans in Enlightenment-era America (thinking late 18th and early 19th century here) when everyone was obsessed with the phenomena of electricity. I want to unleash Doc Brown on the people that thought lightning rods defied the will of God.

💫- If you have any BttF related WIPs, here's the opportunity to ramble about them!

OH BOY DO I

So, four years ago I started a diptych of stories I am yet to finish but that are some of the fics nearest and dearest to my heart, surrounding the idea of Marty being transgender. (I once called them my love-letter to transmasculinity, which is a little dramatic, but genuinely a bit how I feel about them)

The first is from Doc's perspective, and deals with the fact that, when Marty was first born, the version of him who'd been visited by 17 year-old Marty back in 1955 must've had an absolute heart attack at first. It features a very confused Doc and (eventually) a younger Marty figuring some important things out about himself, and is probably about half-written at uh. Almost 9k words.

The second, companion piece is from Marty's perspective, and set post-trilogy, dealing with him navigating questions of identity as someone who is trans and who now grew up in a different timeline. It follows his relationships with the important people in his life, his dueling existential crises, and the isolating feeling that maybe there's no one who understands you in the entire world -- and the relief that comes from learning that you're wrong.

I've done a truly monster amount of research for these fics--including having a librarian friend help me track down digitized historical documents during lockdown back in 2020--and am contemplating diving into the historical queer archive where I currently work for a second round, though we'll see what I can find. Regardless, I really want to finally finish these stories now that I've circled back around to having a lot of Back to the Future feelings again.

(Also to show the BttF fandom that I'm a much better writer when I'm not churning out only-mildly-edited 1-2k fics every day for a writing challenge, rip, although I'm honored people have been enjoying those ones, too! Just, you know. I can do better.)

[graciegoeskrazy]

so if Matty’s daughter is Matilda…

what about George’s stepdaughter and Ross’s daughter!!!👀👀👀👀👀

also would u be open to writing them at once? im just wondering no pressure obvs.

Ohhhhh I’ve had this answered for like a year lemme cook. I always use these names while writing and rereading tbh. I’ve just always had these in my head but I assumed everyone would hate that they have names???? Which I totally understand btw! Matilda has been the only names character so far but that was only been for like 2 fics. Anywhoooo. One person asked for this so this is my excuse to finally post it. This has Mattys daughter, mattys stepdaughter, George’s stepdaughter, and Ross’s daughter.

I’ve only written once very briefly for mattys daughter with Charlis daughter but I don’t think I would do one with alllllll of them. I don’t think my brain can take that responsibility.

Okay so here u go.

Matilda George Moss-Healy

Okay so as seen in "she's begging you to stay stay" Matilda's mother, Florence, named her after her father. Her intention was to have her nickname be "Matty" as a way of secretly being close to the father she never knew (until now) but everyone, including Florence herself, just ended up calling her "Tilly." "George" is obviously from George who was Florence's childhood best friend. When Matty gained legal custody of Matilda she gained his last name so it was "Moss-Healy" Matty offered to change it back to just "Moss" but she liked the way she had his name while still having a piece of her mother. In public or on Instagram though...she proudly puts her name down as "Matilda Healy."

Clara Leigh Bechtel-Healy

Clara is a name Gabby always had in mind for her children for when she got older. But when she got pregnant unexpectedly, it was the first name to come to mind. Leigh comes from Gabby's middle name, and they both took up the "Healy" name when Matty and her mom get married.

Emma May Aitchison-Daniel

“Emma May” was a combo Charli had loved since the beginning of her pregnancy. Even before she found out she was having a girl. She would call her by both names all the time. Even when she wasn’t in trouble which is what most parents tended to reserve the middle name for. Charli took “Daniel” as her last name when she got married and Emma did the same when George adopted her 2 months later. Emma and Clara have never taken their biological fathers last names.

Maise Eloise Macdonald

Ross was going back and forth on a couple of first name options but once he laid his eyes on her he decided “Maise” was the winner. It was just a name he liked but “Eloise” was actually suggested by Adam. They were all sat in the hospital taking turns holding and saying hi to little maise for the first time and they were also trying to help Ross come up with a middle name. Adam said “Eloise” out on nowhere and the room went silent. Ross knew it was the one.

[scover-va]

I need to know more about Michael's mom... Is she a cool mom?

SHE IS A VERY COOL MOM janet afton you will always be famous. to me

Im taking this as a chance to finally ramble abt her anyways so Janet's core inspo when designing her was to avoid 2 key things. Don't make her like Immortal & Th Restless's Clara (due to clara representing michael, not mrs afton, so i wanted to avoid that), and don't base her too heavily off of Ballora. I still have ties to Ballora's character (a music-based theme, blue-centric colour palette, im sure there were more basic ideas but everything else is more hc than themes to keep up) due to my hc thingy of each Funtime having ties to William's wife + kids, but yknow.

But yeah. Funky lady who played bass guitar + did backup vocals in a band during her high school and college years. Literally her and William dating can be summed up by "Seriously, what do you see in that guy?!" "He makes me laugh." bc she was and is WAY out of his goddamn league. Not just bc of the whole serial killer thing he was just an even bigger loser in college. Normal people dont develop a crush on a woman after she nearly breaks your nose and makes you bleed, William /j

But yeah uhh. I also dont like the idea of her being absent or neglectful purely because I got way too attached to her (i was originally gonna do that just to make things easy for myself but. Pretty lady,,, I am a very simple lesbian what can i say) so like. She obviously wasnt the greatest, most fantastic mom to ever exist given she was kinda maybe sorta well aware William was making some weird fucking clowns, but like. Hey. She tried. Also side note my reasoning for her being absent during the whole. Yknow. '83 event (and just evan's bday in general) is bc Evan + Elizabeth are twins and Elizabeth demanded a girls-only trip for her bday, and Janet promised Evan she'd do something just as special for him when she got back. That never happened bc he died lmao loser /j

But yeah uhh. Shes got a lot of regrets. Wishes she coulda done a lot of things better. Kinda dies with those regrets. Ive seen people say that one of fnaf's charms is that no character is 100% good and i LOVE that, and wanted to keep it up with Janet. Good mom and overall a good person, however made some bad decisions along the way and whatnot.

Im still working out specifics (ive been slowly working on a lil private fic abt her and william meeting + their early relationship) but uhhh. Minor notes that dont get their own paragraphs is that William sampled her voice for Ballora so yay easy voice claim, she had an on and off relationship with her band's lead singer (her name's Bev), her birth name is actually Janice Schmidt but if you call her Janice she'll knock at least 2 of ur teeth out, she's a runaway teen and got adopted by this older couple bc her home life kinda sucked (idk specifics yet), and also girlie has an extensive criminal record of minor angsty teen type charges. Also teen Mike dying his hair and then 2020's Michael's hairstyle are both kinda references to Janet's hair because he wnated to look less like his father. Thats all ty. No read more bc you WILL look at my mrs afton post, boy /j

Actually no theres more that im remembering as i write the tags and edit a few details. Back to her and William because god im insane about them. So for starters it. Well i was gonna say Janet was def the first to flirt but i think William definitely developed a crush first and they only kept talking bc of said crush so its kinda up for debate. Anyways yeah at first it was a HUGE sorta like "Well he's funny especially when I fluster him so this can be just a fun lil thing" but because they chatted more they def kinda like. Clicked more. William was a huge fan of listening to her music (from. a distance. he looked kinda like a creep but at least janet only misinterpreted it once) but like *specifically* janet he didnt give a fucking shit abt the rest of the band. Uhh. They had their first run-in and janet kinda. Well. Punched him in the nose before he cleared up that he is NOT a pervert or anything weird like that (bc a guy that looks older than he is staring from a distance when there is a clear crowd he could join kinda gave janet the Wrong idea), then they later bumped into each other in the hall and chatted for a bit, then they kinda just kept "accidentally" running into one another. Uhhh. Some cigaerette-themed flirting and a house party later, yay dating :] can you tell where the current cut-off of the fic is /j Also idk how to put this down properly but they are both runaways and can kinda. Get that vibe from one another. Literally Michael is like some fucked up abomination of the both of them between the troubled past + weird situationship thing + runaway stuff + a lot of minor details that arent important rn. I just. Yeah Janet means the world to me go thru her tag on my blog for some art. Not all of my janet art is posted but the non-posted stuff is all concept work/doodles or just. Shit im too embarrassed to post lmao. Anyways NOW im done ty for reading

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

(from my main but this is variousqueerthings): am really enjoying reading your analyses of amy -- I definitely felt more resonance with her on this last Big watch I did, when I could disconnect the way she would at times be underserved by the writing, from what was actually going on in her story, and it's fun going from there to reading deeper analysis that picks on those threads even further

I don't know if this refers to only my straight analyses I've posted on this blog, the rambling rants I've done in the tags of other people's posts, or my fics (someone once called a fic of mine an "eloquent rant" and sometimes I feel like that's a great way to describe the more "character-study"-esque of my fics), but either way thanks! I actually had my own reevaluation of Amy Pond as a character when I got back into Doctor Who this year thanks to various other blogs/others analyses (shout out to @saint-eleventh, @thefiresofpompeii, @spoofymcgee, @ameliapondmd, and plenty of others, including you, @variousqueerthings, with your rewatch series). The first time around, when I watching Doctor Who as a freshman in high school, I couldn't pick apart the Moffatisms from the foundation of a very compelling character full of fascinating contradictions and unabiding faith and a desperate loneliness that connects so well with Eleven's. (I also, full admission, hadn't gotten the shift between how companions were written in Davies' era v. Moffat's, with the companion's arc being as integral to the story during 9 and 10 v. during 11's- though I am also now realizing the mistakes that Davies made, especially with his handling of Martha and other black characters.) Now, though, I can ride with the fairytale vibes of Season Five, which has steadily risen through my season rankings, and can also appreciate the push-and-pull of Amy Pond.

I hate love triangles but looking at Rory and the Doctor now as embodying the themes of domesticity/growing up/stagnation v. travelling/danger/curiosity and the way that the narrative constantly tries to shove Amy into the former (literally making her a wife, a womb, a mother, a vessel, stripping away her agency at every turn) makes it all the clearer how Amy, whenever given the chance, turns to the TARDIS. She doesn't want Rory to die in Amy's Choice but chooses him by choosing the TARDIS and life with the Doctor. Her biggest act of agency in the show is demanding the Doctor show up at her wedding, literally yanking him into existence and demanding that he prove to the world that her faith in him was never mad, was always the most sane thing in the world. Even at the end of the God Complex, when she should hate him more than anything, she still believes in him (and frankly, he believes in her. Eleven and Amy are each other's gods as much as they are each other's best friends).

I think that Eleven and Amy are made for each other in the same way that Nine/Rose, Ten/Martha, and Twelve/Clara are made for each other, to believe in each other, to change each other, to make each other's stories full. I love Donna&Ten, Clara&Eleven, and Bill&Twelve as much as anyone else does (I seriously adore all of these dynamics), but you can't tell the Doctors' stories and arcs without the first set of pairings I mentioned. And realizing that about Amy and Eleven and the effect they had on each other (the fact that after eight hundred years without her, she is still the last face he sees before he regenerates, the fact that she can literally remember him from nonexistence) really made me realize the potential and impact of her run as a companion/their dynamic this go 'round. I think that's the great thing about a show that runs for this long and with so many doctor&companion pairings- you are constantly going to bump up against these relationships that transcend friendship and romance and go into world-shattering, character-arc-altering, often-verging-on-codependent dynamics that impact both sides for the rest of their lives.

[bubblywhores]

Honkai star rail fic! Clara and Svarogs father daughter relationship and how they first met! :D

be nice i kinda didn’t know what to write towards the end but i still really tried pls enjoy

The air in the Belobog’s underworld had always kept the same smell; musk and sweat, miners often jabbed that the smell had altered over time into their blood and tears as well. This particular night in Belobog’s underworld the smell had worsened between the cold damp air and the musk. It felt like it was consuming everyone, the cold sweat rushing down their foreheads, the little warmth, nothing could be felt as overworked vagrants and miners sat. no one fought, no one argued, just sat and for the most part they had sat in silence trying not to let the cold consume them. Some people blamed these conditions on Svarog and as

Wildfire had been attempting to make negotiations for months trying to make Svarog listen and reason with them but nothing was working. it seemed as if everyone was at their breaking points.

With all of that being said, all that could be heard from a distance was sniffling. That wasn’t unusual. Kids always cried from various things such as getting hurt or just simply missing a parent. Svarog calculated all problems and tried to find the most logical solution. That is what he always did. in this case it would’ve been to find who was making that noise.

Svarog’s metal clanked as he walked people who once held conversations quickly quieted down only watching as he walked. Some people rushed away as subtlety as possible but Svarog knew.

Taking his last few steps before reaching the girl she looked up he figured she would’ve ran away but she smiled.

Svarog didn’t calculate that.

The young girl's white hair laid atop her head messily and her eyes shined brightly.

“i’m clara!” she declared excitedly. Svarog knelt on one knee. “Where are your parents Clara?” he asked. The girl for just a moment frowned while she looked for the words Svarog understood everything. “It is okay.” he spoke his voice sounded softer? At least to Clara maybe to the others he still sounded terrifying.

Svarog watched Clara the young girl, already in his head he found out who her parents were and how they were MIA he looked into her further at this point in time and she would be about 8 years old. The girls sniffles brought him back to the matter at hand. “You are sick. your temperature has reached 101 degrees with no medical attention your condition will worsen.”

Clara looked down as he spoke like a child would look down as their parents ‘scolded’ them. “i’m sorry,” she muttered. Another thing that wasn’t in Svarog's calculations. “Why are you apologizing? there is no need.” Clara looked up at him with teary eyes. Svarog wasn’t having this. He lifted Clara up walking somewhere, to someone. “I am Svarog.” was all he had said. Clara’s mood changed significantly and she seemed more at ease as Svarog carried her away.

Reaching Boulder town everyone seemed to have tensed and whispers started floating around.

“What is he doing here…”

“Who is that girl?”

“…what is he gonna do?”

“ Will he listen to wildfire now??”

Clara looked at Svarog. he was a robot so he didn’t care for other’s opinions but Clara couldn’t help but feel bad.

“It's okay Mr. Svarog,” she leaned in to whisper. The young girl’s temperature rose again but by then he had gotten where he needed to be. Outside of the clinic waited Natasha and Oleg. the two commanding officers for wildfire aka the people who wanted to return to the overworld.

“This is Clara, she seeks medical attention and she needs treatment.”

Natasha stood maybe in disbelief that Svarog brought young Clara to them.

Natasha was a good doctor Svarog trusted her to take care of Clara but…

“you will still be here when i am

all better right mr svarog?”

Svarog thought for a moment before answering, this girl Svarog wanted to protect her from the harsh realities. looking down he finally answered.

“i will be here when you are all better now

let the doctor help you clara.” the young girl smiled, taking Natasha's hand.

as they walked into her office he heard them speaking.

“Hello clara i am natasha”

“Hello miss Natasha,” the girl said. Her voice sounded very calm.

Some days Svarog would replay that memory in his head. The day he met what humans would call a child. his child. Clara was like his daughter. He taught her how to live and how to do tasks. He saw her joy for robots and how she always wanted to help everyone.

his treasured gift.

“replay memory 2235678.” Svarog spoke as Clara slept in the next room over. a father’s love for his daughter ! robot or not.

i kinda got lazy at the end but still please enjoy!!

[kaidynsarell]

Chapter 7- Of Sepia and Crumpled Parchment

🖤🦉🖤🦉🖤🦉🖤🦉🖤🦉🖤🦉🖤🦉🖤

Pairings-Sebastian Sallow x Female OC

Rating-This story is rated overall 🔞(Ch 7 is SFW)

Tags-Grief and Angst.

The full chapter can be found below the cut (3k words)

Ongoing Fic

Chapters 1-10 can be found on WP and AO3

Monday, 12 September, 1892

Morning came with an abruptness that ricocheted against her bones and left her aching and delirious with sleep or, rather, the lack thereof.  Clara drug herself, unceremoniously, from under the nest of blankets she'd all but lived in since Saturday and tried with what experience told her would be little success to restrain the mess of long white blonde waves that insisted on an air of unruliness on a good day and otherwise left her with a snarled, untamable mess.

Today was not one of the good days.

With her brusque departure from the Sallow home two days prior, Clara had stalked down to the dungeons and, exhausted, had flung her body into the sea of green blankets.  She'd buried herself so deep she was swallowed in darkness and lost to the unfathomable depths-drowned in that tenuous space between sleep and waking where thoughts melt with dreams and become indistinguishable.

She'd stayed like that, curled below her bedding and only woken fully to the quick patter of Grace's annoyingly perky footsteps and the tap of porcelain on wood before the footsteps retreated, and  Clara was once again left alone.

She had known what she would find when she pulled back the curtains, and still, she ground her teeth at the sight of that damned delicate tea cup with its soft pink flowers.  Peonies, like the ones she had shared with her grandmother,  though these were a machine-printed stencil, not intricately hand-painted as Beatrice's had been.  The severe lack of brushstrokes and the monotonously uniformed edges offered enough evidence.  Too sharp and repetitive to be natural.  A mockery.  And anger had taken the cup and hurled it against the stone wall, the tea spilling in an arc of sepia to soak into the collection of emerald patterned rugs that tried, and frequently failed to protect their feet from the chilling cold of the dungeon stone floors.

The teacup hadn't shattered on impact.  Clara should have expected the unbreakable charm.  Instead, it merely clattered against the stone and fell with a dull thump to the rug below, which had only angered her further.  The satisfaction of seeing it shattered, ripped away.  But anger was bitter and resentful, and it wove up through her chest and coiled around the fingers clenched white against her pillow.  The same one that had heard her screams since the end of Fifth year, and she'd pressed it over her face and slumped back to the mattress with a furious groan.

She'd not heard another word from Sebastian or Anne all weekend, and Ominis she'd only glimpsed in passing before she'd scurried back up to her dorm, resigned to becoming a hermit who snapped at passers-by from behind her bedhangings.

Even as she'd sanctioned herself away, she'd kept the proteon charmed parchment with her, her fingers too often brushing along the rough edges or tapping across the surface.

But the parchment never rippled under her fingers. No new messy scrawl. No new flecks of onyx freckled over the beige with the furious intensity at which Sebastian wrote.

She cursed the part of herself that had expected him to write.

And she cursed the part of herself that had wanted him to more.

><><><><><

Clara did not climb her way to the Great Hall and Breakfast for the first time since the start of term because she was almost certain Sebastian would be there.  Nor did she look for him among the bustling throng of students-not that he was difficult to spot with the small crowd gathered around the far end of the Slytherin table.

The twin's unexpected return had not gone unnoticed.

She'd been close with most of the group at one point, but she'd not spoken to any of them in several months.  Not even to Natsai or Poppy, whose shared adventures in Fifth year had brought her closer to them than most.  But what she had once thought of as unshakable friendship had slowly faded to that of acquaintance and then only ever to concerned glances across classrooms and smiles that lingered between worry and cautious optimism as they passed each other in the halls.  The same smiles that waited for her acceptance and those she could still only half-heartedly return.

The distance wasn't their fault.  Clara knew they'd reached out-both of them, even Natty, who had dutifully ignored her mother's strict instructions to limit her interactions with Clara after the incident with Harlow.

She still had the unanswered letters saved-the ones she had read and cherished and simultaneously been unable to summon the energy to write back.

The longer time went on; the more guilt had dug its sharp corners under the flimsy attempts she'd made at her own forgiveness.  Ripped it open and clawed at the sweet sincerity of the pages.  Now, she kept the letters tucked away, unable to look at them or their senders without the weight of it pressing between every breath.

But there they stood within the group of students crowded around the twins. 

The twins.

How strange it was to think it.

Stranger still to see them seated together.

It hadn't been so long ago that Anne had questioned if she would ever want to see her brother again. And not for the first time in the days since dissapperating away from the Sallow home, Clara wondered exactly how softened Anne had actually become to her brother's crimes.

Seeing them now, seated side by side, one could almost think they'd never fallen apart.   That the string that had bound their souls from birth had never unraveled.  Never frayed so far as to see Sebastian begging her to let him in and  Anne refusing to say his name. 

So mirrored were their mannerisms and their laughter so synchronous.  Even their smiles quirked up on different sides as though pieces of a whole.  Only the subtle pauses in Sebastian's exuberant charisma and the careful way he still watched his sister as though if his gaze didn't hold her delicately enough, she might vanish before his eyes offered any hint of the year they'd spent distanced from each other.  

Clara shifted her boots against the worn flagstone, determined to find a seat at the opposite end of the table.  As if on cue, Sebastian looked up and over the crowd.  It was almost criminal how quickly he spotted her from across the Great Hall.   Before she could fully shuffle away and pretend she'd not noticed him, Anne, too, had seen her and began waving her over, and Clara couldn't bring herself to deny the other woman.

She pushed herself through the small crowd and sat across from Ominis.

It was the furthest seat from Sebastian, and Clara could still see the little disruption at the corner of his mouth where he'd pulled his bottom lip in and worried it between his teeth.  He was still looking at her-his eyes just as dark and unyielding as they had been days prior as he regarded her from three seats down.  Too long, and she became acutely aware of how disheveled he must think she was.  The quick glance she'd thrown to the bathroom mirror that morning had seen her undereyes still bruised and bagged with stress and her perpetually messy hair only partially tied in a loose knot at the back of her skull,  the hairs that had refused to be restrained falling in haphazard curls around her face. 

He opened his mouth as though to say something.  The unspoken tipped to the edge of his lips and lingered at the precipice between thought and speech.  

Clara looked away before the words could come to fruition and decided the rough swirls of woodgrain on the surface of the table were particularly interesting.

She didn't want to talk to him.

Only the peripheral glimpse of a black and crimson blur barreling into Sebastian spared her need to continue blatantly avoiding the interaction.  At the same time, the muttered " Ooof, Hi!"  from the end of the table snapped her attention unwittingly back to him.

A small boy with a mess of dark curls had launched himself at the older Slytherin.  His arms wound so tightly around his neck that Sebastian almost appeared in danger of death by constriction before the small Gryffindor pulled back and beamed up at him.

" You're really back!  I thought they were all trying to trick me, but it's really you.  Can I tell everyone you'll be back at Crossed Wands?  The next match is in just a few days.  Everyone'll be thrilled!"

Lucan bounced so eagerly on the balls of his feet Clara wondered briefly if muggle photographs of him would appear only as muted blur of vertical lines.

Sebastian's attempt at a smile fell flat.  Small.  Apologetic.  More a poorly altered grimace than anything else. " Ah... look, I'm really sorry, but I can't do it this year.....  You know, N.E.W.T's and all."

" What? " The younger boy's face fell.  All bouncing halted.  The balloon in his chest deflated, and the entirety of his small, thirteen-year-old body sagged.  "But-but you weren't here last year, and everyone was so excited when they saw you'd come back.  It hasn't been the same."

" I wish I could, Lucan.  I really do... but I can't..... I've already missed a whole year, and there's-"

Sebastian's stumbled rush of words died midsentence.  Faltered off the edge of his tongue and fell uselessly to the flagstones below as the Gryffindor's face twisted.  Still too innocent or, perhaps, brave enough not to have learned how to hide the hurt that contorted his features.

Anne swiveled her head to the side and shot an incredulous look at her brother, who seemed barely to notice, his attention still focused on the younger boy.

Anne wasn't the only one, and for several long seconds, the steady hum and murmur of the small crowd gathered around the twins fell eerily quiet.  Contented murmurs melted to furtive whispers until the flurry of screeches and the flap of wings overhead announced the arrival of the morning post, and the steady cacophony of noise saw the little crowd disbanded.

Lucan shuffled away without a backward glance.  Sebastian didn't look over at her again.  Just down at his half-eaten oatmeal, he pushed it around with his spoon, and her stubborn ignored the little sinking feeling in her stomach.

Clara didn't wait for an owl to land in front of her.  The morning post had long since become primarily uneventful for her.  Once upon a time, she might have received small packages of homemade pastries tied with thrifted ribbons from her grandmother or the occasional box of peppermint toads from Professor Fig, who'd been the one to introduce her to the candies and knew her affinity for them.  But she'd failed to save either of them in the end, and anyone else who might have written to her had given up when she'd failed to return their last several letters.

Instead, she added a generous helping of sliced strawberries to her bowl of oatmeal in an attempt to make the bland beige mush edible.  It proved futile.   Maybe she would just pick the strawberries out and nibble those instead. She was never particularly hungry in the mornings anyway.

Two seats down, another student had spread open a copy of the Daily Prophet deposited by a flustered-looking tawny owl.  She could just make out a few glimpses of a small article tucked at the corner of the page closest to her.

Unidentified sources claim a recent attack near Mauranweem to be the work of the Dark wizards formerly associated ...

.....  Authorities have declined to comment further on the matter and...

Following the mysterious death of their confirmed leader, Victor Rookwood...

Clara forced herself to look away.  Back at the pattern of woodgrain, the hardened knot at the center, the swirled contrast of dark and light.  Fingernails dug crescents to scarlet against her palms.  She couldn't think about that right now.

She didn't need to look up to feel  Sebastian watching her again, and for once, she found herself grateful for the alarming screech of the overly large and equally stuffy black eagle owl that had settled in front of Ominis.  With all its distinguished haughtiness, the bird may as well have announced itself as royalty.  Clara could've sworn the pompous thing puffed out its chest as it extended a single leg and dropped a crisp envelope into the blond's lap.

Beneath the bright morning sunlight of the enchanted ceiling, the embossed Gaunt crest was impossible to miss.

The letter was opened, and the thin, slanted writing was converted to braille with a practiced flick of his wand before Clara could try to make out a single sentence from across the table.  Ominis's fingers hadn't even made it past the third line of raised dots when he crumpled the parchment into an uncharacteristically messy ball.  It was stuffed into his satchel so quickly that Clara almost missed the near-white-knuckled grip he'd held over the document.

Anne tipped her head to him and muttered something.  What?  Clara couldn't distinguish between the quietude of her voice and the discordant clamor of conversation that ricocheted between the stone walls.  An ever-present testament to the incredible acoustics of the space.  Had she been a director of music, she might have been thrilled, but as it was thwarting her attempts at eavesdropping,  she only found it irksome.

If Ominis had anything more to say, he didn't voice it.   Just tipped his nose toward Anne and shook his head.  The movement was almost minuscule.  Just the slightest twitch of his head, and Clara wasn't certain which of their mouths had pressed into a thinner line.

          ><><><><><

Clara was still picking the strawberries out of the lump of beige mush in her bowl when Professor Sharp approached them from the staff table.

With his shoulder-length black hair, lined face, and perpetual scowl, he held the air of a man who'd seen far too much at too young an age.  Even the severity of his limp and rumors of how he'd received it only served to add to the gruff persona of the battered war hero.  Aside from his lectures, Clara had never known him to be a man of many words, and he handed each of the twins a square of parchment with little more than a nod before turning away.

Class schedules, given the way Anne glanced over it and slid it into her bag. 

But where Anne had already tucked her schedule away, Sebastian was staring so intently at the document clenched in his fingers Clara wouldn't have been surprised if it burst into flames.  Brows crushed together, and his eyes darted in a harried pattern from top to bottom.  Lingering and scrunching at the same spot each time as though struggling to grasp the meaning of a word, and if he were only to read the entire document enough times he might glean some further understanding.  The pattern repeated with an almost frenzied fervor until his gaze finally snapped up to the already retreating limp of the older man.

" Professor, there's been a mistake with my schedule."

The man only turned halfway, more a glance over his shoulder.  " I assure you, there's been no mistake."

" I don't...I can't-" Sebastian didn't resist when Anne tugged the list from his fingers and flattened it over the table to read.  "- I've not completed  an O. W. L. Surely that means-"

"An exception has been made in this case."

"But-"

"There will be no changes made to that schedule-"  The potions master turned fully.   "- and I expect an Outstanding on that particular N.E.W.T.  You and I both know you can achieve that. "

"But, Sir!  I-"

"The decision is final, Mr. Sallow."

Sebastian held the man's gaze.  His stubborn defiance etched through the fare of his nostrils and the subtle clench of his jaw.  Clara watched the exchange.  A series of micro-expressions she had no hope of fully comprehending.  The twitch of the professor's mouth, the slight furrow of his brow, the infinitesimal tilt of Sebastian's head.    Finally, Professor Sharp raised his eyebrows, and whatever silent argument had passed between them, it seemed Sebastian had lost because his shoulders slumped, and he turned his head back to the table to glare at the offending document, still flattened over the worn wood.

She couldn't see the parchment properly with the way his arms were positioned, and curiosity begged the question.  Coiled it to the tip of her tongue and pressed its feet to the starting blocks until the stubborn that had made its home in avoiding Sebastian latched firm hands around curiosity's eager form, and the question crumpled against her teeth.

The hand he drug down his face pulled at his features.  " I don't believe this....I'm not going.   I don't care-"

Anne's fingers settled against his forearm. " It's in a different classroom now, Sebbie.  You won't have to go in there."

"I know that."  The words were flattened and strained.  So quiet  Clara barely heard him above the din of chatter surrounding them.

Anne didn't say anything else, just squeezed his arm and leaned back against Ominis. 

Clara didn't immediately look away when he glanced at her again. The enchanted sunlight had ignited threads of auburn in his curls and the flickers of honeyed gold across his eyes.

For a second, it seemed he might say something to her.  Part of her almost hoped he would. 

And just for a moment, she could almost imagine him as that same freckled boy she'd known before.  The one who had captured petals between his fingers and pressed their pigment to her soul.  The boy who had wished on fallen eyelashes and shooting stars.

The shift was subtle.  Just a tilt of his head and the flickers of gold vanished as quickly as they'd come. 

Or maybe they'd never been there.  Just a reflection of the candlelight.

Only an imitation of what she'd once known. 

A mockery. 

And anger's hot coils ignited around the place she kept her stubborn and pulled her gaze back to the pattern of the wood grain.

There was only a sharp exhale and the unmistakable sound of crumpling parchment before a half-muttered "I'll see you in Charms."

Clara looked up only in time to watch Sebastian's retreating form as he strode from the great hall without a backward glance.

[doctorbrown]

Stuff to add to my huge WIP list ーI would love to write a short fic about the missing chunk of time between pts 1 & 2, namely Doc's week or so in the future with Einie.

But also, I think it's there in the future sitting at the rejuvenation clinic that Doc really has a good long, hard think about his present and subsequently improved health. Like Doc took good enough care of himself up to 1985 to still be so active and energetic and full of life and vigour, but there were a number of things he learned about himself post-procedure that give him cause to reevaluate.

First, the fact that he's now gotten 1/2 to 2/3 of the years he's already lived given back to him. Doc is sixty-five at the beginning of pt.1 (assuming you take 1920 s his birth year). People in the future have access to much more sophisticated medical procedures, but it was hearing thirty to forty years that really boggled his mind. The people at the clinic, of course, explain that this procedure doesn't suddenly give you the ability to do things you couldn't do before and even though the recovery time is extremely quick compared to any kind of procedure of his era, it isn't magic and he still needs to put in the effort to keep himself healthy. It's not a cure-all. It has reversed some of the damage to his system caused by time and in some ways neglect, but if he doesn't maintain his own body, then the whole thing was practically a waste of time, cutting its efficacy considerably.

At the beginning of the film when the plan was still twenty-five years into the future, it's alluded to that Doc probably doesn't expect to live to the turn of the millennium, let alone all the way to 2010/2015. Looking beyond my years, after all. Even before Marty's accidental trip back in time, Doc wouldn't have wanted to run the risk of encountering himself in the future during his maiden voyage all the same way he doesn't want to know a single thing about how his future is going to unfold. He doesn't want to know when he dies, how, nothing. It's dangerous knowledge. (And by the end of the film, come LP timeline, he knows this well, having to power through thirty long, torturous, occasionally panic filled years wondering if he had done something to screw up the timeline and then would miss his deadline of 26 October, 1985 and screw up his chances at a friendship that would change the course of their lives.) If he does have any previous insight into how long he might live, it's certainly something he will keep relatively close to his chest.

I rambled, sorry, getting back on trackー

Anyway, secondly (maybe idk probably not) is the fact that Doc just gets a whole laundry list of 'fixes' from the doctors at the clinic in exacting detail; he isn't the type to shy away from the grim reality of things no matter how unpleasant. So it really puts some things into perspective for him, how poorly he has looked after himself in his dogged pursuit of his dream. He gets to keep inventing, he gets more years with his best friendー This is wonderful.

THEN, the end of pt2 happens and Doc is thrown one hundred years into the past. Given that the Old West had been a boyhood fascination for him and something that he ways loved and to a certain extent romanticised (though was still keenly aware of the grim nature of it all beneath that) now he gets to see it. To live there! To experience it! Granted, not in the ways he had hoped, but once he makes his peace with the situation at hand and does all he can in the moment to ensure Marty's safety, he can really start to build a life for himself, something that his improved condition will only help with.

Now, enter Clara, and then Jules and Verne. The biggest motivators for Doc making sure he takes much better care of himself (though some habits are too deeply ingrained and refuse to be broken). Doc finally has the thing he's wanted deep down for the longest time: a family, one that shares in his passions and his dreams and above all, accept him as he is. Doc wants, more than anything, as much time with his boys and Clara as he can get. He wants to see them grow up, as all parents do, and is constantly reminded of his age against the other parents when they return to '85, against Clara, against all his peers. The rejuvenation may have taken a few years off his face, making him look in his late forties at best at a glance, but he is still sixty-five at the start of three. Sixty-six if you consider the eight months spent there setting everything up. His chronological age puts him at seventy-five upon his return at the end, because a couple hours for Marty was about ten years for him, while his official age records him still at sixty-five.

Because of them, Doc does endeavour and sometimes get forced to take more frequent trips to the doctor, to watch his health, to make sure he gets as much out of the single life that he deeply enjoys living as he can. Yes, sometimes this does mean breaking his rules and utilising future medicine for more serious situations, but in the end, surely that one thing can be justified, right?

[bg-sparrow]

35 Questions for Fanfiction Writers! ✨

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!) Three and a half? Four on a good day. I've come a long way in 18 years, and I am always looking for ways to improve my craft. Seeing how much I've learned in that time, I can only imagine how much more there is left to learn.

2. Why do you write fanfiction? I love being able to share stories with others who are already invested in the people, places, and stories of canon. I get to feel like I have a say. I like that my audience already knows so much without me having to world-build, too. It's a great community.

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works? I'm a lot older than your average fanfic author these days, so I just have more experience in general on how to tell a story and what elements work well in certain places. I also research the crap out of everything I do because I don't like to spread misinformation, even in fanfic.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you? @knickynoo, @writingwife-83, @alydiarackham, @florencia7 @perrydowning - to you all, while you don't know me, I adore your works, and they inspire me to provide a worthwhile experience with a quality story. Thank you for sharing all of your amazing works with your fandoms and helping me become a better writer for it.

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of? I'm big proud of Where You Are (Time Circuits Series #2). That story took forever to sort out the logistics, but it so paid off. It's my favorite big story in the series. Also really proud of Principles of Compromise because I came back after eight years and finished it!

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily? Dialogue. I love writing dialogue. It's what keeps people engaged and the story moving. People don't skip the dialogue!

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most? Starting. Once I start, the words will just keep coming; I know that. But I get stuck on starting so much.

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write? I find my OC from the Time Circuits Series, Emma Brown, easy to write because I've literally been writing her for seventeen years. Marty and Doc also get a mention because they're with her in all the stories. I'm also super good at Tony Stark, I'm told. And Cutler Beckett and Buford Tannen, my bad boys. ❤️

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write? Recently, Clara Clayton, but only because I had little experience in writing her before Part 3. I'm comfortable enough with my take on her, but I always hoped others might tell me it was enough.

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for? I like drama and comedies. Angst can get fun, too!

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most? These crazy people whose lives revolve a time-travelling DeLorean.

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about. I am very excited about the Secret Santa I'm working on right now, and I'm planning notes on a sequel to Once Upon a Time in the West! It will likely be titled "Once Upon a Time in the East" and follow Marty and Buford toward the East Coast in pursuit of a mutual enemy.

13. First fandom you ever wrote for? I guess Harry Potter? First one published was Pirates of the Caribbean.

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for? Right now, Back to the Future. I've known these movies for 33 years, and I feel confident enough to write about them.

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for? Bewitched (2005), Stranger Than Fiction, Copying Beethoven, and Die Hard.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)? Arranged marriage, time travel, unplanned pregnancy, silly miscommunication/ misinterpretation

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for. Soulmate, A/B/O, coffee shop

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written? FFHQ for sure: Nina Cue is the newest secretarial substitute at FFHQ, a fan fiction production company. Being a “sub” is quite a unique experience — floating from fandom to fandom each day to fill in for the characters’ secretaries. The charming, insufferable James Norrington sets the tone for her foreseeable work life. With fellow subs Reese and Josh to share in her wins and woes, Nina just might survive the parties, paperwork, flirts, rivals, and drama.

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between? I'm all for any, depending on the mood. I wrote an OC x canon with the utmost respect for canon in mind, so I guess in between?

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff? I do tend to get shippy, but I'm just a romantic and I can't help it. Not like a romance novel-level romantic, but a small-things-are-big-gestures romantic.

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!) I have spent ten years writing Marty McFly and my OC, Emma Brown, and I must say, they go well together! I actually also really enjoyed writing for Elizabeth Swann and James Norrington even though they weren't the ship in the story! People were rooting for them and they knew it wasn't the endgame lol. I also wrote a lot of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts (Pepperony)! Apparently I've just got a knack for these two!

22. Do you listen to anything while you write? I do have playlists cultivated to go with each specific story I'm working on (mostly film/ TV/ video game scores), but when music isn't helping, I'll listen to rain or thunderstorms!

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas? I think a lot of original ideas can come from prompts and challenges! I'm about to start a sequel on a little side story I wrote for Cowboyvember, and I'm taking it so seriously! But the ideas within the story are fairly original.

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works? Usually one-shots because TIME. But if the work count isn't crazy, I'll do multichapter.

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them! I do! For Time Circuits Series, I think about Marty and Emma having those four daughters Marty joked about. I think about going back to write the 1985A version of their counterparts' stories. Maybe an origin story for Doc and Emma's mother. For "Once Upon a time in the West", I'm about to work on the sequel, "Once Upon a Time in the East".

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try? Yes, and I'm actually starting to try it for the first time in my "Once Upon a Time in the West Stories" — sexuality. I've written pretty vanilla stuff my whole life, but I want to give this stuff a shot because I know how to be respectful and tread lightly (but appreciate being told otherwise if that's not the case as I'm not experienced).

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received? This one has stuck with me since it was posted to Where You're Going (Time Circuits #1) on FFN in 2015, and it's the one that inspired me to maintain these expectations as I continued the trilogy: "I am completely head over heels for your story! Emma is a wonderful character and I think she has a good amount of Doc in her, which I've seen other variations of his daughter lack. Also I love how you've incorporated her into the story so smoothly, giving her a sub-plot that intertwines so well with the movie but doesn't feel forced at all. While reading I actually found myself forgetting that she wasn't actually IN the movie. Your writing style is wonderfully lively and I can't wait to read more!"

28. How well do you handle criticism regarding your writing? So, I was writing an excellent piece for a creative writing assignment in college. The next day, the professor hands out copies to the entire class, and they DESTROY it. And I was hurt and embarrassed at the time (yay, RSD), but it was THE BEST THING that EVER happened to me as a writer. I use the one class period EVERY SINGLE TIME I WRITE as a lesson, motivation, and key to putting my best out there. Thank you, Dr. Craig. After that, I can happily handle whatever criticism people want to throw at me.

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out? I did that with "Once Upon a Time in the West". I made Marty bisexual, though he's kind of in denial about it and still leans more toward women. I've never touched anything like that before. And I wrote about depression a lot in the story. Also new-ish territory now that I'm writing with experience.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst? Both.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them! I never shut up about Emma Brown, the teenage daughter I gave Doc Brown in my rewrite of the Back to the Future film trilogy. She's a little brainy like her dad but not quite there yet, heavily sarcastic to the point it's a shield/ coping mechanism, loves peanut butter and old sitcoms, outgoing, outspoken, has terrible handwriting, and an unspoken romantic. Her mother died in childbirth on Aug 9, 1968. You can find out more about her — and see her — here!

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less. "Marty and Buford begrudgingly respect each other sort of"

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process? I do it all between working motherhood. I write on my work computer, my phone, my couch, my bed, my desk, my dining room table. I have full-blown conversations with myself in my notebooks as a kind of Roundtable of Ericas discussion for figuring out big plot points and they never disappoint!

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of. This excerpt is from Where You're Going (Time Circuits #1), Chapter 14: Of the Essence, in which Emma has been tasked with writing the letter to warn her father about the Libyans and turns to Marty for help. That letter always has to come from Marty for me, and this was how I made that work (and snuck in some romance):

"I can't do it."

Marty looked up from the television as Emma fell into the couch next to him, defeated.

"Can't do what?"

"I can't write the letter!" she half-whispered in frustration. She grabbed the throw pillow at the far end of the couch and pushed it into her uneasy stomach as she tucked her feet up under herself. "I don't know what to say! What do I say? Should I tell him everything or be as vague as possible? Do I tell him who I am? Is that even relevant to the whole thing? I don't know if it should be short or long or scolding or sorry or just…euragh!"

Her overwhelmed nerves sent her forehead between his shoulder and the couch with a helpless, muffled grunt of resignation. Marty's eyebrows raised at her outburst.

"I need your help," she practically whimpered.

Marty sighed, calmly looking over at her crinkled mass of loose waves spilling over his shoulder. The television's light gave her rounded back and calves sharp contrast, but the firelight touched her wild tresses with all of the soft warmth of an oil painting.

He swallowed.

…What the hell, McFly?

Suddenly, her breath found that exposed part of skin where his shirt had ridden up against the cushions, and he blinked at the sensation, rolling his neck slowly to ward off the goose bumps travelling up his spine.

Now was not the time to be dwelling on such things - such things as Emma recently being able to desensitize him as easily as throwing a switch, for example. And when exactly had "recently" started?

He should not have even entertained acknowledging this stuff right now. Whatever "this stuff" was. Not when she was on the verge of legitimately wigging out. You'd think the girl had misplaced her organic nomenclature notes to the point of searching the freezer again.

The situation at hand, however, was way more serious. Doc didn't get shot by terrorists because Emma couldn't find Chemistry notes. And regardless of what involuntary thoughts, feelings, and reactions he had "recently" been having towards the girl stuffed into his shoulder blade, she was a friend that needed him above all else right now.

Carefully, Marty shifted his right side into the arm of the chair.

"Em."

Already emotionally numbed from her escapades at the writing desk, Emma hadn't the mind to do anything but bat her eyelashes as Marty laid back into the corner of the sofa, took the throw pillow from her, and dropped it to his lap. Emma hazily stared at Marty's arm outstretched beside her. He nodded to himself, the fingers of his left hand extending a quick, fluttering invitation to come closer. Her eyes met his in a wordless exchange, and he simply reached for her.

Before Emma could let herself overthink more things than she was already overthinking, she boredly told herself to shut up, stretched out on her right side, and let her head settle into the pillow. The curve of her neck relaxed as black and white flickers from the television danced along it. In some other state of mind, she would be incredibly proud of herself for not flinching as Marty's arm draped over her, fingertips barely touching the pleated waist of her silken nightdress.

Right now, his contact seemed a necessity, not a desire. She needed somebody, something to reassure her that all three of them were going to come out on the other end of this thing okay. It seemed to be all catching up to her after being bombarded with the questions posed while writing the letter to her father; one wrong move was all it took. Emma putting one word out of place, Marty pushing his father out from in front of a car, Doc miscalculating by a single decimal place – everything hung in the balance of the simplest things that shouldn't require any thought or no-never-mind.

Instead, she folded her knees up over her churning stomach. She sighed again as Marty's thumb grazed a small spot on her arm. Rin Tin Tin came back from commercial break.

"What do we do?" Emma asked at length.

Marty looked down at her, lowering his fist from the side of his face. Her rosy nightgown and Doc's oversized robe cascaded over her and off the couch, much as her hair had sprawled into his lap. He couldn't count how many times they'd hung out on the couch at the end of a long study session or because they simply didn't want to do anything for the rest of the day. And, yes, they'd sat shoulder-to-shoulder occasionally and dozed off that way, but having her laying at his side with his arm around her like this?

Friendly casualness, comforting, what have you; everything aside, this was a first.

And it felt like they'd done it a hundred times.

Wow.

Swallowing, Marty gently clutched the excess of robe at her waist. "We'll write it together tomorrow."

"Do you think we're going to be okay?"

Marty's heart sank. Emma, who had been barreling headlong through this week so very brave-faced, was finally beginning to show the hope wilting within her. He sat back into the couch. Of all the difficult questions she had ever asked him, this was one of the hardest.

"Of course we are," he whispered, trying to convince himself as much as her. He curled his hand over hers. "We're going home tomorrow night, Em. Where your dad is alive and waiting for us."

Emma's throat thickened. Her lips shook.

"I miss him, Marty."

He squeezed her hand and didn't let go.

"So do I."

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want! When I got back into writing last year, I planned to wrap up the fics I'd left unfinished and be at peace with fan fic, maybe be more of a reader than writer after that. Now, I'm putting out more than I ever have, thanks to finding the BttF community on Tumblr; they just want me to keep writing my crazy adventures and I want to share them! So maybe I'm not done writing just yet. :)

[ssparksflyy]

Hiii! Would it be ok if I requested some Jason Grace x reader hcs? Maybe like Jason was having a terrible day (like to the point of tears) and reader comforting him? Thank you in advance if you decide to write this!

(Ps: I love how you write Jason sm agejzejetjfj)

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

i'll catch you, i'll catch you‧₊˚✩彡

pairing: jason grace x gn!reader warning(s): sad jason :( word count: 1.2k a/n: hi! tysm for requesting <33 sorry it took me a minute to get this out, whenever i had motivation to write, i couldnt, but then when i could, i didnt have motivation?? idk. also ik u said hcs but i wanted to turn this into a regular fic so i hope u dont mind, enjoy!

if there was one thing jason had perfected over the years, it was hiding his emotions.

from a young age, jason was shoved into a role of leadership. he knew that if he wanted to be trusted and taken seriously as a leader, he couldn't show any sign of vulnerability.

he knew that he gave others hope, that they looked up to him. in times of despair, he was their saving grace. jason was always the shoulder somebody could cry on if they needed to.

so it happened naturally. he was always too busy to care for his feelings. and it wasn't like anybody truly cared or noticed if his smile wasn't as bright anyway.

while out and about with others, jason was always happiest guy you'd ever meet. while alone, he was a wreck. he could only push down his emotions so far for so long.

often times jason was haunted by grief. haunted by those he couldn't save in battle. people always thought they never got to him, but really, they ate him alive. he always asked himself what he did to deserve to live while others didn't.

other times he was just so tired. some days were better than others, but those days that didn't go as planned left jason feeling exhausted.

today was one of those days. everything about today just wasn't going to well for jason, and now, in the dead of night, he was able to go back and replay his day.

as jason lay sprawled out on his bed, he felt tears brimming in his eyes. he took his glasses off and placed them on his bedside table. he just wanted to curl up into a little ball and disappear.

once the tears started, they didn't want to stop. his tears fell like the raindrops racing down his window. lightning struck as a sob escaped his lips.

jason lay in a fetal position, facing his wall. he felt his eyes begin to droop, tired from a long day and crying, but quickly sprang open when he heard quick knocks on his window.

he quickly snapped up to check who it was, jumping out of his bed. he quickly sniffled and wiped his face as he walked over to the other side of his cabin, over to the window.

you stood outside his window with an umbrella, a smile on your face.

jason returned a smile before opening his window. he hadn't expected to see you tonight, but he was glad you were here.

you quickly climbed in through the window and landed with a small thump. you quickly closed your umbrella and leaned it against the wall.

"hey" you said, breathlessly. that window had no right to be so hard to climb through.

"hey, didn't think you'd be stopping by tonight" jason replied, with a small smile.

"i know, i wasn't gonna, sorry. but i couldn't sleep and i just got an update on the whole clara situation," you said quickly, as your smile disappeared and was replaced with a confused look on your face, "are you ok? your eyes and nose are looking a little red."

you stepped a little closer to jason and cupped his cheek with your hand. he was unable to meet your eyes as he slowly placed his hands on your hips.

"yea, no im fine!" jason said, an obviously fake laugh escaping his lips, "i was, um.. doing weed."

"seriosly? 'doing weed?'" jason thought to himself.

you cringed at his response. "jason.. hun, you don't 'do weed', you smoke it. and it leaves a smell. the cabin smells normal. seriously, what going on? you know you can tell me anything."

jason let out a small sigh and continued to look down, refusing to meet your eyes. he wanted to tell you how he was feeling, he knew he could trust you. he loved you and you had always been there for him during difficult times, so why was it so hard for him to talk to you about his feelings?

he felt a sob building in his throat. he bit his lower lip in attempt to keep it in, but couldn't help it. when the sob escaped from his lips, so did the tears from his eyes. his grip tightened on your waist as he pulled you in closer.

you stood there, stunned for a second, but quickly recuperated. you hugged jason back tightly. he placed his head in the crook of your neck, and every time he let a sob out, your heart began to ache even more. you had no idea he felt anything like this. to you, jason was always shining like a diamond. you should've known diamonds were made from pressure.

you stood there holding jason until his sobs stopped. he took a step back as he lifted his head up from your neck and sniffled as he said, "im sorry-"

you stopped him with a shake of your head, "no, there's nothing for you to be sorry about, im sorry i didn't know how you were feeling."

tears were still streaming down his face, and his eyes were red and puffy. you took his hand and led him over to his bed. you sat down crisscrossed on his bed, and he sat across from you, your knees touching each other.

you held his hand up to your lips and placed a small kiss on his knuckles. jason remained silent, allowing you to lead his every move.

"do you want to talk about it?" you asked softly.

jason nodded his head slowly and let out a shaky breath before saying, "i guess, i-" he paused for a second before continuing, "i just get kind of tired of being the person everyone looks up to. and i know, that may sound bad, but sometimes i just want a break, you know? and i feel like i can't get that because everybody is looking up to me."

you nodded your head, showing him you were listening.

"overtime it just builds up, i guess. most times im fine, but i dont know, sometimes, like now, it just hits me. straight punch to the face." he said, making his spare hand into a fist and making a small and soft punch motion, "a-and i just get so overwhelmed."

a few more tears slipped from his eyes as he squeezed your hand. his eyes unable to meet yours once again.

you squeezed his hand back and raised your spare hand to his face to cup it. you leaned forward and kissed away the tears that fell from his eyes. soon, they stopped falling.

you sat back down. "thank you for telling me, lightning." you whispered, "im sorry you have to go through that, i wish i had known. next time you feel overwhelmed, you know you can tell me."

you found your other hand softly playing with his hair. you knew it calmed him down, based on the way his shoulders relaxed and he leaned into your touch, you knew it was working.

"let me know anytime you want to talk about something, okay? i love you, jason" you said, softly.

jason leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your lips, "thank you, (y/n), i love you too" he whispered.

a/n pt2: hello again! tysm for reading, i hope u enjoyed !! just wanted to say that requests are closed rn but will be open again once i catch up! have a good day / night ! go watch the shrek musical rn

peace from manhattan

percy jackson

[professorsaber]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

No one tagged me for this, but I saw it posted by @walker-lister and wanted to jump on board.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

20

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

94,345

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Doctor Who (so far only the Twelfth Doctor [but caveat under question 14]) and Back to the Future.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Portraits of a Romance (Doctor Who)

Loose Ends and Loose Memories (Back to the Future)

The Post-Game Wrap Up (Back to the Future)

r/ThePinheads: Guys, Marty McFLy really *is* a time traveller!!! (Back to the Future)

Their Song Is Almost Over (Doctor Who)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try! I love getting them, so it seems polite if nothing else. But on occasion I don’t have the time and then the notification gets buried in other emails and I forget to.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

“Their Song Is Almost Over” ends with both Clara and the Doctor dying after 20,000+ years together, which is probably the closest I’ve come. I suffer from major depression and so nothing I write has a negative/angsty ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Honestly I feel like I could say “Their Song Is Almost Over”! Clara and the Doctor have 20,000+ years together and an afterlife together, to boot. In the same continuity is also “That She May Find Her True Love First,” in which Clara reunites with the (original, non-canon, female) Fifteenth Doctor a few centuries after breaking up with her predecessor.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Once, on a fic I posted on FF.net and not AO3, someone just wrote “FAIL.”

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I’ve only written smut once—"I Need You, Now More Than Ever". To quote the summary, “Escaping a planet after a ‘date’ where everything went horribly wrong, the Doctor and Clara find comfort in each other.” So hurt/comfort with sex. There was a four-year gap between me writing it and posting it.

I might do something smutty for Marty/Jennifer one day, but I wouldn’t bet on it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not anymore. The stuff I did as a kid was sorta a massive crossover between just about everything I was interested in, but I wrote little that could be called “fics.” Most of it was me and my friends doing what you call LARPing when you’re an adult. The universes involved a shitton of original characters on top of at least Pokemon, Sonic the Hedgehog, Star Trek, Animorphs, Men in Black, and Honey I Shrunk the Kids: The Series (when I could sneak it in).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really, though I’ve taken part in a Discord server game that involves writing a fic one line at a time. (Results here.)

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

The only ship I’ve ever actively shipped shipped is Whouffaldi, AKA Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswald. All my DW fics involve them, though bits involve either Thirteen with Clara or later, original Doctors with Clara.

I have a soft spot for Marty/Jennifer in BTTF as well. That’s mainly the reason I’ve never been able to get through the “Marty gets permanently stranded in time” fics out there.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh dear god. First, none of them are posted—I strongly believe in posting only finished works. But in all probability I’d say I’m never gonna finish the Mire AU, a Whouffaldi AU that I wrote about 22,500 words for. It was supposed to be a preemptive fix-it for “Face the Raven,” but I later decided that I wanted my Whouffaldi fics to have Clara become a Time Lady instead of using the Mire kit.

Two BTTF ones—Meet the Family and Psychology 135—have been on the drafting board about ten years but are much, much more likely to be finished.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Shit, this is hard! I’ve been told though that I’m good at characterization, and also that I weave in just enough background detail to make it all seem real. So I’m going with that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I spend far too much time on pointless background detail that I can’t fit into the story, I have difficulty finishing anything (especially of great length), and I think my descriptions can be too bland.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

In one of my BTTF fics just a few days ago, I decided that something Doc said was actually from his German grandfather, so I went to our Discord server and asked two German users for a translation. If there weren’t German speakers on our server, I might have used Google Translate and then double-checked with Wiktionary, but in all probability I’d have not done it at all.

BTW, it’s “Ein gesundes Maß an Neugierde ist immer etwas Gutes.”

19. First fandom you wrote for?

This is a complicated question, as you could say I wrote “fanfics” before I was aware of fanfiction or fandom as concepts (see question 10). In high school, c. 2005, I finished a Transformers: Beast Wars fic but never posted it, but I still think that’s the first.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I might also have to say “Their Song Is Almost Over”! To quote another one of these asks I did, “ wrote it in a single sitting, it’s epic in scope, [and] it gives a ship that got an at-best bittersweet ending in canon a gloriously happy ending.”

For BTTF, I’m not sure really. Perhaps “Moving Day”? Because I accomplished so much in such a brief space (compared to my previous BTTF fics), and I loved focusing on Jennifer.

Tagging @bg-sparrow, @daryfromthefuture, @synthsays, @mythical-bookworm, and anyone else who wants to do it!

[astriiformes]

[Tag Game] Writing Patterns

I was tagged by @marypsue! Thank you, friend.

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern.

Here are mine!

1 - "It was a fateful flash of gold that drew Caspar’s eye to the altar of the church, unmistakably bright even among the sacramental trappings that surrounded it." (Epiphany, Pentiment)

2 - “'Woah, be careful, Magdalene,' said Caspar, watching the toddler nearly trip as she trundled her way over to him." (Bei Wind und Wetter, Pentiment) (This is technically not the first line of the fic, but the actual first line is just a bit of dialogue from the game, so I went with one I actually wrote)

3 - "The second-story bedroom in the Maler home had once housed all three of the family’s sons, from the time Andreas could first walk up the stairs to join his brothers to the day Gabriel had departed for his Wanderjahre, the first to leave home for good." (The Other Side of a Story, Pentiment)

4 - “'Magdalene! How pleasant to see you. Do you suppose that metals have spirits?'” (De Proprietatibus Plumbi, or On the Properties of Lead, Pentiment)

5 - "The little room that read 207 – Herzl Breslaur Jewish Historical Collection on the door was tucked away in a quiet corner of the much larger and ever-so-slightly less quiet Edith & Walter Benson Special Collections Library, which was not to say it was forgotten about, only that it tended to receive visitors with a very specific purpose." (Zichronam Livracha, When the Angels Left the Old Country)

6 - “'Where are they? Honestly if Clara doesn’t come, when she knows perfectly well why I wanted to get everyone together today….'” (February, 1518, Pentiment)

7 - "Shivering as a gust of wind blew snowflakes into her face, Clara clutched the tureen she was carrying closer to her chest." (Beharren ist eine Kunst, Pentiment)

8 - “'Honestly, Andreas the balcony, again? We have a door, you know!'” (On the Revolutions of the Celestial Spheres, Pentiment)

9 - Heart thudding in his chest, Caspar stumbled slightly as his foot hit a rocky patch on the road leading back into town. (Stemma Codicum, Pentiment)

10 - “'How long do you think they’ll be gone?'” (Long Upon the Land, Pentiment)

Honestly this is an entertaining look at how much Pentiment fic I wrote in the last year and a half or so more than anything else, haha. Though at least there's a fun spread of different characters represented (It looks like Caspar shows up the most, which tracks)

I'm a little surprised there aren't more in-media-res dialogue openings; I feel like I used to lean more heavily on those, and in years since have diversified a bit, which is interesting to see.

I'll go ahead and tag @shadowen @animatedamerican @eighthdoctor @philcoulsonismyhero and anyone else who wants to participate, though this is of course optional!

[27-royal-teas]

it mightve been to long but TRICK OR TREAT! >:3

hello!!!!! sorry for the late response!!! not a fic but here’s an excerpt from my national novel writing month (nanowrimo) assignment that I’m doing for creative writing class!!!

***

Heaving a sigh, he gets up. The floor, wooden and worn, is cool and rough under his bare feet. His new bedroom is carpeted, he remembers that from the open house. It’ll feel weird, and he thinks maybe he could get used to it. But he doesn’t really want to. 

But before he leaves-- he can’t make himself put his foot out the door just yet, because that would mean that this is ending -- there’s the window. He has to look out the window once more before he leaves. Before his eyes, the New York City skyline stretches, long and lazy like a cat, as far as his eyes can see. He can see the familiar sights-- the bodega on the corner, where Ada worked; the record store, the restaurants, the cars. The places where he and Clara had gone on dates before everything had blown up in their faces-- everything here is brushed with memory and music and it’s kind of fucking overwhelming. 

Okay, maybe Karter does want to leave. 

***

I’m not too great at writing consistently, and for nanowrimo we have to write like, 50k in the span of one month, so I figured I’d base mine off something I really do like writing a lot— fanfiction. specifically, fanfic about boys in bands. and so I’m heavily basing this off of the plot of my favorite fic in the world, erode, but I’ve changed a lot other than the bones of the story, where jack moves to baltimore for his mom’s job. here, karter is paralleling jack in erode: he’s moving from new york to baltimore. it’s his senior year of high school, so he’s not planning on making friends. previously he hadn’t wanted to leave, but after a recent falling out with his only friends and bandmates, he’s eager to go. in baltimore he can get away from his old situation and there he meets Alex, who I’ve kept the name of from erode, because I like that name, although I’m thinking about changing it so it’s not as similar. alex wants to be a music psychologist and knows way too much (this definitely isn’t a way for me to infodump, noooo, what do you mean). he’s also trans but that’s not even the first thing about him. alex also runs a popular podcast where he talks about music psychology. eventually they’re going to end up together, but in a kind of weird way— I’m not gonna spoil the whole thing, but I’m honestly really excited and I hope I can keep the inspiration up for the rest of the month.

thank you so much for the ask!!!!! <33