#I MADE IT THROUGH A MONTH OF WRITING

[fedorah-the-explorah]

"It'd been a few months since I escaped from Vile Island--"

i hate you i hate you i hate you, you terrible show. get a comprehensible timeline, im begging you. im going to commit a felony

[penguinpartypalooza]

I'm taking my life back. You can't hurt me anymore.

[shalpilot]

a notepad that slowly got turned into a journal

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Petition for more dally and soda antics pls 😆

OFC! SO sorry it took so long for me to get to this but I love these boy 'n I am HAPPY to provide!! fic under the cut!!

also HUGE shoutout to my LOVELY mutal @thedeitywhoplayedwithbricks for not only being right 100% of the time but also giving me the inspo to be able to write this ILY😭

"Woah, Soda where the hell did you get these?" Soda leans forward on the couch, jarrin' Pony as he rests his head on Soda's knees. Dallas appears in the doorway, brandishin' a pair of cowboys so new they ain't even creased. Pony lets out a wordless whine 'n Soda pats him on the ribs, absently runnin' a hand through his hair as he sits back so Pony can readjust.

"Just bought 'em." Soda grins ear to ear. "I've been fixin' to get 'em for like three paychecks now. Sweet, yeah?" Dallas turns them over in his hand, lets out a low whistle of appreciation. He flips them so he can see the sole, runnin' a finger over the tread.

"Wait, Soda, we're the same size, huh?" Dallas grins, his silver tooth glowin' mischievously in the low living room light. Soda wags a finger at him in a way oddly reminiscent of Darry.

"Oh, nuh-uh. I worked my ass off you are not stealin' my boots, Dallas Winston." Dally drops them back at the door, puts his hand up in mock surrender.

"Woah, woah, woah. No need to get your panties in a twist. A man can't even admire a nice pair a shoes anymore." Dallas plops down on the couch, liftin' Pony's legs from where he's sprawled out 'n droppin' them into his lap.

"Not when that man is a hood like you." Pony tears his eyes away from the TV to smirk at Dallas who promptly pushes the kid off his lap so he falls straight onto the floor. Pony wails indignantly 'n Soda snorts.

"You kinda asked for that one, Pone." Pony's mouth drops open in betrayal 'n he clambers off the floor into Darry's armchair, scowlin' at Dallas 'n Soda in turn.

"Did not. Soda you should be on my side here, Dally uses your closet like a goddamn consignment shop!" Dallas beams a throw pillow at his head 'n Pony yelps 'n dives behind the arm.

"Wait a minute, Pony's got a point."

"Nuh-uh! I do not. I don't have shit of yours but I'll tell you right now those are my jeans." Dallas kicks Soda in the shin 'n Soda squeaks 'n slides further down the couch. He lifts a knee 'n studies them, frownin'. After a moment he pulls his nose down 'n sniffs, coughin' 'n makin' a face.

"I wondered why they smelled like menthols." He sticks out his tongue 'n kicks his feet onto Dally's lap. Dallas rolls his eyes but lets him, grabbin' him by the ankles 'n slidin' him down a little further.

"See, now who's the clothes stealer?" The front door swings open 'n Darry drops his tool belt onto the table, glancin' into the living room to see who was over.

"Hey, boys-" He stops, double takes. "Dallas, is that my shirt?"

...

Soda wakes up the next mornin' 'n Dallas has already managed to worm out of bed. He always was the early riser of the bunch but most days he couldn't pry Soda off of him so he'd just stay until Soda woke up.

He drops his feet to the floor with a yawn 'n listens for the sounds of his brother's in the kitchen. Pony's still snorin' softly in his bed on the opposite side of the room 'n Soda pulls the blanket up a little higher as he passes by.

The TVs on real quiet 'n Steve's layin' back on the couch, eyes mostly closed 'n hair floppin' into his eyes. Soda pauses beside him just long enough to see what's on 'n Steve absently puts a hand up 'n taps Soda in the chest without takin' his eyes off the screen. Neither of them were particularly mornin' people.

"G'mornin', Dar." He flops down at the table 'n Darry slides him a plate of eggs Soda immediately tucks into.

"Mornin' lil buddy." Darry pulls out the chair next to him, flippin' off the stove 'n pickin' up the newspaper. "You've got perfect timin', I was just about to drag you outta bed by your feet."

"It's a skill. Knowin' when the hell to get outta dodge that is." Soda quips around a mouthful of eggs 'n Darry snorts a laugh.

"If that were true, I wouldn't spend most of my afternoons chasin' your ass around." Soda scraps the last bite off the plate, he always inhales his food like it was runnin' away from him, 'n pushes himself up.

"Hey, be fair. You spend most of your afternoons chasin' Pony. Or Dallas." Soda ducks into the laundry room 'n shucks off his sleep shirt, replacin' it with a white tee 'n his DX button-up. "Speak of the devil, where is ol' Dally?" Most mornin's like clockwork Darry 'n Dallas were up at the ass crack of dawn just putsin' around the kitchen.

"He beat it out of here real early. I think Buck has him doin' prep for a race tonight." Soda pops back into the room, grabs a piece of toast off the counter 'n stuffs the whole thing in his mouth.

"Ready Stevie?" Soda sticks his head into the living room 'n Steve drags himself off the couch, reluctantly. "You drivin' Dar?" Darry leans forward over his paper, hurriedly tracin' an article at his fingertips before foldin' it 'n droppin' it on the table.

"Yeah, I'll give you boys a lift." Soda 'n Steve's beater was lovin'ly busted. Again.

"Alrighty." Steve pulls on a pair of sneakers that may have once been Darry's but had since passed through Two-Bit down to Steve. Soda lets him steady himself on his shoulder, reaches for his boots twice 'n misses them before he actually looks down.

They're not there. Soda blinks at the space he left them last night. Pokes back into the living room. Hell, he slides down the hall in his socks 'n checks his 'n Pony's room. "Soda, buddy, y'all are gonna be late."

"Do you know where my cowboys are, Dar?" Soda shouts, forgettin' Pony's still curled up asleep. He stirs 'n Soda cringes.

"You left 'em by the door, honey," Darry calls back. Soda sprints back down to the kitchen, slippin' a bit. The pile of shoes is notably missin' Soda's, still.

Oh. Wait a goddamn minute. "Dallas!"

...

"Hey Dar, what's for dinner I'm starvin'-" Before Dallas even makes it all the way into the house he's flat on his back. Soda streakin' from the living room to throw his entire weight on Dallas' chest. All the air leaves Dallas in a whoosh 'n he hits the kitchen tile hard. Soda pins him down with his knees pressin' into Dally's upturned palms.

"You asshole you took my goddamn boots!" Dallas grins up at him, brings a knee up 'n shoves into Soda's chest, easily pushin' him off. Soda scrambles for him again 'n Dallas grabs him by the shoulders, wrestlin' 'n rollin' around on the floor.

Soda manages to sit down hard on Dally's chest 'n start to wrestle his boots off Dallas' feet. Dally thrashes around 'n when Soda doesn't get up he grabs a handful of Soda's wild blonde hair 'n yanks just hard enough to pull him off balance. Soda yowls 'n apparently that was too much in poor form for Darry.

He sighs 'n lowers the simmer on the stove, reachin' over 'n easily pullin' the two apart, givin' them both a firm shake before droppin' 'em again.

Soda shoots him a glare 'n Dallas grins wide 'n snorts a laugh. Soda manages to hold onto his scowl for a moment more before he hoots a laugh 'n suddenly they're rollin' around again, laughin'.

"Take my goddamn shoes off you little thief!" Soda grabs Dallas by the ankle 'n pulls the boot off in one swift motion. Dallas doesn't fight him but he sure as hell doesn't help him.

"Who're you callin' theif? If anythin' I'm a victim brutally attacked in my own home!" Dallas flops back on the tile 'n Soda hits him in the stomach with the heel of the boot.

"My house 'n my shoes, asshole." Soda snickers 'n clambers off the floor, offerin' Dallas a hand 'n haulin' him up.

"For now." Dallas wiggles his eyebrows 'n Soda knocks him in the side.

"Oh, you're on." Darry lets out an almighty sigh. Those three words never bode well for his sanity.

...

The cowboys have made the rounds about eight times back 'n forth when the hat gets involved. Dallas swears he got it by legal means 'n no one really believes him. 'N the problem really should have worked it out here, tradin' one for the other. But it's never that simple.

"Dally, lemme see your hat." It's one of those brown suedes with the fancy stitchin' around where the brim meets. One of those real expensive ones.

"You can see it just fine from there." Soda's been in possession of the boots for three days by means of sleepin' with 'em. Not on. Wrapped up in his arms like a goddamn baby. So it was safe to say any generosity has gone straight out of Dallas.

Two appears behind him, snatchin' it off his head 'n tossin' it across the room to Soda. Dallas socks him a good one in the ribs 'n dives across Pony to grab it back. Johnny's at Pony's feet 'n he flattens himself against Pony's calves 'n duckin' as Dallas climbs onto the sofa.

Soda holds it above his head, reachin' as far as he can. He's sittin' on his boots like he's takin' to doin' since Darry won't let them wear shoes in the house 'n Soda refuses to let them out of his line of sight for even a second. Dallas goes for the boots 'n Soda makes the snap decision to drop his arm to bat Dallas away. Dally grins smugly 'n takes the chance to snatch the hat back.

"Oh, no way. You're not sharin' 'n neither am I." He plunks the hat down again 'n wedges himself on the opposite side of Pony who was still whinin' at bein' climbed over.

"Glory, no brotherly love from that one." Soda howls 'n Dallas flips him off.

"You first." Soda sticks his tongue out 'n Dallas makes a face.

"Well, you gotta go to sleep sometime." Soda settles back down, slings around Pony. Just his eyes are visible above Pony's mop of hair, shinin' mischievously.

"I'd like to see you try."

...

Turns out a hat is significantly harder to sleep in. 'N far easier to steal.

...

Soda wakes up on a Saturday mornin' 'n immediately knows somethin' is wrong. He realizes three things at the same time. One, the boots he fell asleep with are no longer on his feet. Two, the hat he had pressed to his chest is likewise gone. Three, the screen door is bang-in' shut 'n Dallas' laugh is peelin' down the street.

"Asshole!" Soda doesn't bother to put on his shoes or nothin', just rips outside after Dallas. Dally's got one hand pressin' the hat down as he sprints 'n the other clutchin' at least two of Soda's shirts. One guess what the ass has got on his feet.

His blonde hair is blowin' away from his neck 'n he's howlin' laughter into the early mornin' chill.

Soda catches up with him easily, the boots slowin' him down. He throws himself onto Dallas, both of them rollin' into the grass head over heels.

"C'mere you bitch!" Soda wrestles him to the ground 'n Dallas grabs him by his shoulder, grins, 'n easily tosses him head-first over him so Soda lands on his back.

"Gotta be faster than that, huh man?" Dallas clambers to his feet, scramblin' around for the hat that fell off in the scuffle. Soda howls 'n sits up.

"Oh, I'll show you faster!" Soda kicks him in the back of the knee 'n Dallas goes down again. "Hood, stop takin' my shit!" Soda grabs Dally by the hair 'n pulls 'n Dallas wails, reels around, 'n kicks Soda in the front of the thigh.

"Who're you callin' hood you hog!" Soda yelps 'n dives on Dallas again.

"It's not hoggin' if I bought it!" Dallas slaps a zinger to Soda's bare upper arm 'n Soda yips 'n rubs at it like Dallas shot him. "Oh you asked for it now." He hollers a laugh 'n lunges for Dallas.

Niether of them are sure how long they're wrestlin' around in the dew before Darry shows, manhandlin' 'em apart, chests heavin', mouths bleedin', pantin' hard, 'n grinnin' around split lips. "Glory God almighty what the hell is wrong with you two?"

"Well?"

Dallas' got one boot on, Soda's shirt is half ripped off, both are covered in grass stains, hair mussed, the hat is somewhere lost in the high grass, the second boot with it, Soda's got a bite mark on his finger (but that was his fault for puttin' it over Dally's mouth) 'n Dallas is missin' a handful of hair. Both their ribs ache as much from laughter as from the ill placed punch.

Both Soda 'n Dallas point fingers at each other. "He started it!"

[insomnya777]

btw guys boat boys have got me in their clutches again so perhaps expect a new fic

[firesidefantasy]

an angel walks into a bar.

⤳ a wip intro.

genre | queer romance. status | first drafting complete !! vibes | italian countryside, penthouse, bondage bars, empty vodka bottles, drag queens, polyamory, your boyfriend's husband's really terrible band, learning to drive in a ferrari, jumping fences, a gasoline on a bonfire kind of love. in a fancy penthouse in bologna, sebastian silva hides away, jealous and scared of the world in equal measure. then his husband introduces him to a sweet, daring runaway, and the boy invites himself to roadtrip around europe with them for a month. a tender romance begins to blossom between them. sebastian is hesitant, but when his husband goes home, and the boy convinces him to travel a little longer, he is suddenly thrown head first into a love he can hardly keep up with. italy, to switzerland, to croatia, to greece: the boy has demons that haunt him no matter how far they run, and in the middle of the mediterranean with a long stretch of road and no distractions, sebastian realises that he does too. can they face their demons before the road runs out, or will their love crumble and leave them alone once again?

pinterest // spotify // wip page // character sheets

you can join the taglist by commenting/mssging <3

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 23: Hand Holding

“The more I held hands with Halara…the more tired I became…”

Prompt based on yet another fic of mine.

[szaryherbatnik]

Marius is so very character to me. I snort whenever he says these cliche heroic things. As my friend said- most of the things he said are very paladin core. And i havent seen enough of eom to be sure about this but i interpret these things as some sort of masking if i can call it that? Performing to cover up his past, repeating the same phrases hes heard from those he considers true heroes. Being a true knight only because his performance is so polished.

[fratboykate]

Papi, are you alive? Thunderbolts trailer leaked and we got Hailee back from the dead (and there's the movie with Andrew and Florence and its KYAU coded as fuck) Kate and Yelena content galor this week. PLEASE COME BACK. We've been deprived for a year. It's been jail for too long. Grace us with Kate x Yelena content again. Pretty please.

*taps mic* Is this thing on?

[freaky-flawless]

The Ghoulfriends books really are the epitome of "Freaky Flaws and All...Unless You're Ugly 🤗"

[lemonadeslice]

hello i may be coming to the end of my reserves of sibling horror movies that i can draw vague thematic through-lines through! i would love suggestions if anyone has more!

ideally they'd be stories where the focus is on the siblings' relationship as opposed to just having siblings in, but i've bent the hell out of that rule myself, so tbh i'll accept anything. basket case is on my list. this is a lawless place.

[setsailslash]

Timeline and links and more deets down below the cut!

January

Hiraeth | Romanjay, Past BruJay | 1.7k | Explicit | no capes AU

February

thrill of the hunt (i packed you a lunch) | for whaleofatime | JayBru | 1.3k | Teen | animal transformation fic where Bruce and Jason are both wolves as inspired by Titans: Beast World Tour

Root of All Evil | BruJay | 3.2k | Explicit | Jason with a plantussy, inspired by this fanart

March

-

April

Deathbringers’ Guide to Retirement | collab with Salmonellagogo | BruJay | 9.0k | Explicit | assassins AU, written for the brujay server event +1 (900) BRUJAY

Final Resting Place | BruJay | 4.3k | Explicit | necrophilia kink exploration wip that has plagued me since 2023

May

The Loving Touch | BruTaliaJay | 8.2k | Explicit | cyborg!Jason AU, outtake written for my fic The Human Touch from 2020

June

BYOB | BruJay/Bruce&Jason | 0.5k | Teen | inspired by this post

July

One Degree of Separation | BruDamiJay | 4.4k | Explicit | written for DC Make It Poly Week and part 34!! of the jason todd rare pair challenge

this man of mine may kill me | BruJay, Mentioned TaliaJay and BruTim | 5.0k | Mature | gone girl AU

August

The Art of Gift-Giving (an apology in three parts) | for BenBamboozled | BruJay| 2.4k | Explicit | omega verse featuring sub alpha!Bruce and dom omega!Jason, inspired by the peeps of the brujay server

the sunkissed interlude | BruJay | 4.8k | Teen | suburbia AU, continuation of it matters not in my height of the august heat series

September

-

October

-

November

All Yours, On All Fours | BruJay, Past Selina/Bruce | 2.3k | Explicit | no-capes AU featuring stepson!Jason and stepdad!Bruce

An Irrevocable Fact | for BillyThePidgeon | DickJay | 1.0k | Explicit | inspired by this fanart

A Guy Like You Should Wear A Warning | collab with forestgreen, kieran_granola, meaninglessblah, scandalsavage | BruJay | 3.3k | Explicit | written with the peeps of the brujay server for brujay winning the DC Toxicity Tournament on tumblr

December

eat around the bone | for whaleofatime | JayBru | 5.9k | Explicit | omega verse featuring alpha!Jason and beta!Bruce

Criticality; Implicity | for meaninglessblah | BruJay | 1.4k | Explicit | pacific rim AU, written as a treat for Batfam Kinkmas Exchange 2024

[jekacatrina]

So, someone commented in one of my fics asking if they could do an audio version for YT and monetize it and it made me so fucking mad i couldn’t focus the rest of the day at work

[unityrain24]

ok so one thing i'd like to see in a fic (and plan on putting in mine) is like...

so you know how tom hiddleston has played loki for like a decade. obviously he has aged, he's gotten some wrinkles, hairline receded just a little bit, etc etc, which isn't a bad thing, aging is normal. Especially in that span of time.

But loki himself is a being that would live thousands of years. Even though he does age, the amount of physical aging that tom hiddleston underwent in like a decade would probably happen over the course of several centuries for loki. But even so, you see loki age physically throughout the films, because tom does (and obviously editing tom and chris to look the same age over that many years would probably be offensive and also be a lot of extra work)

So one thing i'd love to see in a fic is like... recognizing that loki is physically aging way faster than he should. Is it all the stress he's been under from thor's coronation + torture + being on the run from thanos? Is it the effects of malnutrition? Did Thanos/The Black Order take advantage of how time is funky in space, and so even though Loki was missing for only a year, perhaps he was tortured/kept aboard The Sanctuary for several years?

And what would Loki think of this? For the context of my fic, Loki basically got resurrected a bit after Infinity War, so he would really be around to see how much his physical appearance has aged. And loki is obviously someone who cares about how he looks, i imagine he would be very self-conscious (maybe even like paranoid) of how he now looks and be sort of desperate to 'fix' it. And it would really add to the whole multi-faceted crisis he's going through.

anyways. yeah.

[raineandsky]

hey y'all! so if you've been reading the tags on my posts you know i've been writing a novel - and it's done (again)!! hurray!!! which means i'm now on the lookout for beta readers :D (again)

(if you've seen me make this post before, no you haven't)

A Dance With Death is a 83k word portal fantasy about demons, the afterlife, and what it means to be a victim of fate.

A blurb and a quick summary of what i'm hoping for is under the read more for anyone interested:

"Demons are generally expected to go undiscovered in the living world.

Azazel is not one to hit general expectations.

Mia, though, a weathered pizzeria worker and now accidental-demon-finder, has seen worse. A mutual agreement flourishes from her discovery – Mia doesn’t see Hell, and Azazel stays in the living world in return. It seems simple enough at first, but the tiny kitchens of the pizzeria prove an unfortunately intimate place if you don’t want to make friends with your demonic coworkers.

Then Mia introduces her boyfriend, Jake, and suddenly their blooming friendship feels a lot more dangerous. He’s six feet of jealousy and rage, and he doesn’t like how close Azazel’s secret has made them. They’re not sure how far he’s willing to go to keep them away from her.

After all, the Harbinger of Death is only willing to wait so long."

Since this is my second round of betas, this is more focused on the parts i've changed. general story flow is my main concern, as well as thoughts on the ending. i'm not too worried about a deadline on this since i'll be busy myself, but around a month or so would be nice if possible.

If you've read this far - thank you! If this is something that takes your interest, please leave a comment on this post or drop me a message and we can talk about it in a little more detail :)

[inkovert]

Snippet

"You know," Spencer started, "I think it's safe to say that I've never been as confused by another human being as I am about you." 

I blinked. Cocked my head in his general direction. Furrowed my brows. Surely, I had misheard. 

"Thank you for reminding me why I rarely come and talk to you. It's because of helpful comments like that." With a shake of my head, I prepared to rise. 

"That wasn't meant as an insult." He sat with one leg outstretched, an arm balanced on a bent knee, his gaze trained on nothing in particular. "I just don't understand how someone can do everything in their power to make everyone around them happy, even at their own expense, and still blame themselves for not doing enough." 

Eyes widening, I focused them back on him. 

"You stand up for yourself, then panic for saying too much. You stay silent, then berate yourself for not speaking up. With odds like that, how could you ever be satisfied? Maybe that's the point. It's like...you're hell bent on making yourself miserable."

"I—" I cut myself off, cursing. I couldn't fight back against anything he said. It was the brutal truth. 

"And for what? 'Cause you think you deserve it? 'Cause if you can just do everything right, tie up every single loose end, it will make up for that one thing you did wrong." I stiffened. "The one thing you can't go back and make right."

"Stop!" I lunged across the small space between us, reaching for him to shut him up. But I smacked into his knee instead. Chest bruised in more ways than one, I pulled back and knelt before him, my face buried in my gloved hands, my braids falling like curtains around me. "Just...stop." 

The wind whistled in my ears, rustling leaves in the distance. 

"It wasn't your fault." My skin prickled, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him yet. "We're the kids. They're the parents. They're the ones who are supposed to know better. She should've never put you in that position. By doing that, she took something from you that you'll never be able to get back." I bit my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. I refused to cry. But his voice was so close, and it was so soft, softer than I'd ever heard it. And it almost sounded like being forgiven. 

"I won't pretend to know what your dad was like. But from the way you talk about him, I can't imagine he would want you carrying around guilt that isn't yours for the rest of your life. Nor would he want to see you take it out on yourself." 

My breath caught. Wide-eyed, I looked up at him in disbelief. Then, I broke. Tears streaming down my face, sobbing into the sleeve of my coat. 

I sniffled, struggling to regain control of myself. "God, can you just go back to being an asshole? It made me cry a lot less." 

Spencer chuckled. 

I furiously wiped away any remaining tears, the rough fabric of my gloves stinging my face. "I just don't want to end up like her, you know?"

"You won't."

"I'm not so sure about that. I'm basically following her blueprint. Lying, keeping secrets —"

"You won't," he said again, firm but gentle. "You care way too much for something like that to happen."

Skin erupting in goosebumps at the compliment, I stared at him. His gaze was fixed elsewhere for a moment, until he finally glanced over to meet mine. My breath hitched, a weird feeling settling into my stomach.