#I finished my first multi-chapter fic! Thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to keep going. I couldn't have done it without you ❤

[adhdprincess]

Remember that crazy AU where Tess died? Fuckin brutal. Glad that didn't really happen.

Here's a multi-chapter fic where Tess lives, written in Ellie's snarky POV.

Summary: Ellie, Joel, and Tess learn to live on the road together without wringing each other's necks in the process. Ellie is feral, Joel is savage, and Tess is trying to get everyone to Wyoming in one piece.

Set during the 3-month timeskip before winter. There are wonderful character arcs and nice campfire scenes, but it gets dramatic as hell—buckle up.

20k words, 3 chapters. I worked on this for 3 months.

[thebigbiwolf]

Spittle - Part 1/2

Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.

Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.

This is what happens when you eat half the bar.

Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, succubus magic, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk), more tags will be added later.

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Dubcon (if you squint), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence

Read on AO3: Here

A/N: Remember the dead spider? I remember the dead spider. Anyways, the reception I've been getting on Starvin', Darlin' has me wanting to thank everyone with a one-shot. This got away from me so I went ahead and split it into two parts.

I've never written anything like this and it was significantly more difficult than a multi-chapter fic. I hope everything comes across the way its supposed to! And a huge thank you to my beta @imaginarydromedary for...you know... encouraging me to post this, despite everything.

From what you could tell, there wasn’t much to the apothecary. 

As you push open the dilapidated doors, your first thought is to search for supplies - anything that could help if things went south on your way to the goblin camp. 

Dried herbs hang from the rafters beneath a thin veil of cobwebs, filling your lungs with a pungent clash of scents. Empty bottles lined the shelves along the wall, caked in several months worth of dust. Large chunks of the building were missing where stone met splintered wood, some areas almost entirely overtaken by greenery.

You step over broken shards of pottery, scanning over the floor and countertops for something - anything that may be of use, but to your disappointment, it seems like the shop was entirely ransacked long before your arrival.

You sigh deeply, knowing you’ll likely never hear the end of this from your companions. It was your idea to search the village. You were the one who suggested taking out the goblin scouts, exerting everyones’ energy, and now you’re afraid you’ll have very little to show for it.

You catch a glint of gold, an object reflecting the sun's rays beneath a pile of rubble. You kneel down to brush away the surrounding debris, thankful for even the smallest promise of coin before your hands catch on… some sort of serrated edge?

You pull at it, and it easily comes loose. It's a thin, rectangular block, just barely larger than the length of your hand. You wipe away some of the dirt with your sleeve, revealing an intricately designed foil wrapping underneath.

As you speculate what this might be, you hear footsteps approaching from behind, light and familiar. You turn to face the elf with a smirk.

“You’re supposed to be the stealthy one.” You chide at him, playfully, “Or has my blood put a little skip in your step?”

Astarion scoffs. “I’ve been here the entire time, watching you fumble around in the dirt.” 

Crimson eyes study you, then the object you’re holding. He places his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side with a raised brow. “Is that what you’ve dragged us all the way here for?”

“First of all,” you waggle a finger at him, “You’re especially grumpy when you’re tired. I’ll have to make a note to prioritize your beauty rest. Second, I haven’t finished looking around, but check this out.”

You hand the bar to him as you stand. The cool skin of his fingers brush against your own, and you’re irritated with the way your heart skips at the brief contact. Why did the one man you found attractive in your camp have to be such a primadonna? And such a huge pain in the ass? 

Astarion’s eyes scan over the textured paper with suspicion, angling it towards the light to get a better look. The golden wrapping is stamped with an image of red lips On the back, letters twist and curve in a language you don't recognize, following a single circular pattern where they meet in the center. You’ve never seen anything like this, neither in your travels, nor within the city walls of Baldur’s Gate.

“Where did you find this?” 

You shrug, then point to the pile next to you. “It was buried right there.” 

He silently stares at the foil, mouth pursed, until your patience begins to wear thin.

“Well, can you read it or not?”

His nose scrunches. “Of course I can’t read it. It’s written in Infernal.”

That’s… odd. Why would an ordinary apothecary sell goods made by devils? Or, worse, for devils. Unless, of course, it was some sort of marketing trick, perhaps a play on the phrase ‘sinfully sweet’, or some other cringeworthy branding.

You take it back, turning it over in your hands before tearing at the corner of the wrapping. It's sectioned into dark, rich squares, and smells indisputably like chocolate.

“It looks like candy.”

“An excellent observation.” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, can we go? We’ve spent more than enough time here already.”

You roll your eyes and stuff it into your bag, setting off for camp, vampire in tow.

–

During dinner, you decide not to tell the others about what you found, knowing Astarion’s likely already forgotten the event. You set down your empty plate, thanking Gale for tonight’s meal. He smiles at you and bids you goodnight as you excuse yourself to your tent. 

You pick up your rucksack, thinking fondly of the dessert that awaits you inside. Having lived at the beck and call of your companions for weeks on end, you can’t help but smile at the idea of selfishly indulging in a small treat like this.

You tear open the rest of the wrapping and snap off one of the squares, immediately popping one into your mouth. It melts - buttery in texture, with a smokey, slightly bitter flavor. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten something so rich. Maybe weeks of the same rations have made you easier to impress, but this felt especially notable.

As you break off a second piece, a strange tingling sensation begins to spread across your lips - a pleasant buzzing that starts at your neck and spreads down through your chest. 

Strange, but not entirely unwelcome. You’ve heard of such inebriating chocolates, ones laced with alcohol or species of flowers that numb one’s senses for a short while. All harmless, of course, and you don’t have watch tonight. You may as well enjoy yourself. If worst comes to worst, Shadowheart is just outside with an assortment of spells and potions. Always better to ask for forgiveness.

It only takes you minutes to finish half the bar. You set the rest next to your bedroll for later and turn to blow out your candles, enjoying the lingering physical effects of the chocolate. Your skin feels flushed and delightfully warm as you settle down for the night.

When sleep finally takes you, it's dreamless, at first. Your consciousness sways, floating in an empty abyss, until colors begin to bleed onto the blank canvas of your mind.

A trickle of red morphs into the shape of familiar eyes, piercing you with their intensity..

Droplets of white spatter over a dark background, diffusing, blending into whisps. They curl and twist before settling into soft, coiffed fibers. 

Hair , you recognize immediately, his hair . His eyes.

Astarion. 

His image fully takes form, as if it had been waiting for you to make the connection before entirely revealing itself. 

He reaches out and seizes you, grabbing painfully at your hips as you crash into his body, hands exploring you - tight, possessive, squeezing at every inch of exposed skin before settling on the curve of your ass. He digs into your flesh with the blunt edge of his nails.

His lips press hot, wet kisses to your throat, mouthing just below the ear, before dragging his tongue along your nape and sucking, hard . You whine at the pressure, eliciting a grin from the elf, so characteristically pleased with the pathetic little noise he’s managed to pull from you.

“You thought sleeping would allow you to escape this - to escape me , unscathed?” He growls against your skin, his voice almost unrecognizable - as if it’s layered beneath a lighter, somehow more arrogant, feminine one.

“No, no, no. Wake up, darling. You’re in for a very long night.”

–

You startle awake, gasping - loud, labored breaths struggling to make use of the unbearably thin air. The edges of your tent bleed in and out of focus, spinning at a nauseating pace as you attempt to recollect yourself.

You wipe at the sweat collecting on your brow, the muscles of your arm heavy and aching, and find that your skin is absolutely drenched. 

Hot. Why is everything so hot? 

It's as if you're being cooked alive beneath your blankets, strangled beneath the furs. You throw them off; normally soft to the touch, the fibers now only worsen the prickling beneath your skin.

Could this be some sort of illness? A fever? 

No, this doesn’t make sense. Everything feels off. 

Fleeting thoughts of Astarion cross your mind - quick flashes of a sinful smile that was not his own.

It didn’t quite match the one you’d silently come to admire, and now that you think of it, the hunger in his gaze was much too intense for the reserved elf. 

His hands, his mouth, the way he touched you -

Your abdomen cramps, bringing your thoughts to a screeching halt.

A stabbing, visceral pain; a knife plunging into your organs. It overwhelms you, forces your body to curl into itself. You hold your pelvis, grunting, and grasp at your sheets. Tears sting the corner of your eyes.

This is - well, you have no idea what this is. 

You can’t think past the pounding in your head, the throbbing in your midsection. You're compulsively twisting, writhing, begging the gods for some sort of reprieve, but it's then when you make the most mortifying discovery of the night.

You’re soaked .

N ot just your smallclothes, which may have been understandable given your strange dreams, but through your damned pants. Not even the sheets were spared. 

“What  in the hells…?” 

You run your fingers over yourself, only intending to confirm the horrifying reality of your situation - that this is not, in fact, some sick, perverted nightmare, but the lightest touch sets off every nerve. 

You wail at the sensation: one massive wave of bliss giving way to several small jolts of pain. 

Pleasure to the point of agony.

The shock of the sudden orgasm courses from your sex through every limb, clenching and releasing pitiful, warm slick. It leaks freely out of you into your already thoroughly ruined underwear. 

Your heart pounds. You stay like that for what feels like a lifetime, toes curled, limbs twitching, waiting for your body to settle. 

After a minute or so, your breathing evens, and the thick haze surrounding your thoughts begins to lift just slightly, along with the suffocating heat. 

But something within you knows this isn’t the end - knows this isn’t enough . A desperation lurks beneath the surface that you can’t quite name. It screams at you. You need more.

‘Aw…’ A familiar, feminine voice prods at your mind. You quickly recognize her, the woman from your dreams who wore Astarion’s image.  

‘All alone, are we? Empty and needing to be filled? Doesn’t that hurt?’

It does. It aches unlike anything you’ve ever known. The lingering buzz of your orgasm just barely quells the worsening cramps, and they’re beginning to rear their ugly head again not minutes later.

You choke out a sob. “Wh- why are you doing this? What do you want?”

Sharp, wicked laughter fills your head, echoing off the walls of your skull. ‘I’m not doing anything, dear. Just enjoying the show.’ She hisses, ‘I told you, it’s going to be a very long night.’

You must be hallucinating. This fever - whatever this is, is simply cauterizing your senses, or possibly interacting with the tadpole? But the tadpole doesn’t speak, not like this. Never so clearly. Not with words.

Think, please. There has to be a reason this -

“Is everything alright?” Shadowheart raps on the canvas of your tent. “I heard a yelp. Are you hurt?”

Shit.

‘Ooh, this one might do!’  You feel an unwelcome… eagerness flood you.

No. No. Absolutely not.

You try not to panic. 

Under no circumstances should she or anyone else come in here.

The best strategy may be to ignore her - pretend you’re still sleeping. It seems like a good plan, but before you have a chance to follow through with it, another sharp contraction hits. This one is somehow even worse than the ones before. 

You pull your sheets up to your mouth to stifle your whine, but the half elf’s ears are sharper than most. “I’m coming in.”

She opens the flap to your tent and gasps when she sees you there - skin flushed pink, doubled over and covered in sweat. 

“Gods, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” Her hand reaches out towards you. 

Without thinking, you swat it away with your own. Your skin tingles at the contact, and the essence of a smile crosses over the threshold into your mind. The intruder giggles with satisfaction.

“Don’t,” you plead, “Don’t touch me.”

She scans over you, taking in your humiliating state. Her face twists with concern. “I need to know if you’re feverish. Please. You look awful.” 

‘Well, I think you look delectable.’

You groan.

At this point, you know it’s no use fighting this thing on your own. You go back and forth on whether you want to tell her the whole truth, about the voice in your head and its influence on your body, but the idea mortifies you into silence. 

Regardless, a cleric is likely your best chance of fixing this literal mess, so you nod, close your eyes, and brace yourself.

Shadowheart’s palm meets your forehead. It’s somehow worse than you anticipated. Even the simple, chaste touch sends you reeling, as if her soft hands are caressing your entire body. Flashes of heat wash over you, burning your skin, threatening to pull you back under another wave of ecstasy. 

It’s too much. You try your hardest to suppress a moan, but the muffled sound manages to escape from between your tightened lips, pitiful and broken.

The disembodied voice squeals with delight.

She quickly retracts her hand, clearing her throat. “Apologies. I can confirm your temperature is… elevated, but the rest…” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

You want to scream, cry - anything to release your frustration, but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to risk making any more unsavory noises.

“I believe I can give you some relief by treating the fever, but I’ll have to consult the others on the rest. This doesn’t look like any ordinary sickness.”

Consult the others? No. Gods, no. Nobody can know about this. Is she mad?

You intend to protest, beg her not to share this with anyone, tell her whatever death awaits you on the other side of this would be preferable, but she’s speaking an incantation before you have the chance.

A bright, green aura envelopes you, cooling your skin and ever so slightly easing the cramps. With the pain dulled, it's as though you can finally think again. 

You want to laugh. This situation is so utterly ridiculous that you’d find it hilarious, were it anyone else, but with the modicum of relief comes exhaustion - eyelids heavy, vision blurring with weariness.

“Get some rest. We’ll figure this out.” 

Her reassuring words are the last thing you hear before you’re overcome by darkness.

[trensu]

do you think you'll put "Stasis in darkness" on AO3 eventually?

see, when the idea first came to me, I hadn't really planned on doing anything with it because I wasn't sure if I could make it work. there's a level of gravitas in the relationship between a god and their devoted servant that I didn't think would translate well to steddie because, let's be real, those boys are goofy dorks. but the idea wouldn't leave me alone so I typed up the original post in an attempt to work it out of my system and move on.

(the post kind of blew up, which I was not expecting at all!! like, not even a little bit! i post all sorts of rough little ideas for my own amusement and I've been able to do that without drawing much attention until that point.)

Anyway, I wouldn't have done much with it but @acowardinmordor left some comments/tags/what have you that helped me nail down the setting in my head which really opened the door for me to explore how the story could progress. (apologies, strife, I'm not sure I ever properly thanked you for that burst of inspiration, so please accept this shoutout as an expression of gratitude). And the amazing @ent-is-indecisive allowed me to rant about it which really helped flesh out the story. Seriously, there are elements and lore coming up that would not have existed if it weren't for ent. (and thank you once again ent for the ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL fanart you made for the reveal scene, I'm still overcome with joy whenever I think about it!).

Once it got to that point, I knew I wanted it to be a self-contained story and I was afraid that if I did a multi-chapter fic I'd lose the thread and never make it to the ending I want the fic to have. (no, the end scene hasn't been written yet but I KNOW what it's going to be and I hope everyone will love it as much as i do). So I promised myself that I was not going to post it on ao3 until the whole thing was written out completely.

However, I occasionally need a confidence/motivation boost so I've been posting consecutive parts of the rough draft here. you have no idea how much the people who reblogged with tags or left comments have helped me fight off the discouragement my brain likes to bog me down with; off the top of my head, @godsweakestboy , @redfreckledwolf, @fuctacles , @spectrum-spectre , and @lawrencebshoggoth have given me lovely, enthusiastic words of encouragement. and they're only the ones I can think of at this moment. there's so many other people who've done this, so if you've ever left me nice tags or comments, please know that I've read every single one of them repeatedly whenever I need to get over a slump. I'm so grateful for all of you!

Anyway, all this is to say yes! It is going to be posted as a oneshot on ao3 once I've finished writing it. <3

[canonicallyobserving911]

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Exciting update: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!” - Currently 25 chapters completed: 973.1K Words; Rated: Mature

__________

Exciting Update: The number of chapters for this fic has been increased from 30 to 40!

Before I explain why I increased the number of chapters, I would like to say THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU 😊🤗😁💕 to everyone who has been reading my massive multi-chapter fanfic and I would also like to say WELCOME to anyone who would like to begin reading it. I really appreciate everyone's supportive and encouraging words and please know that I read every AO3 comment that's posted and I respond to all of them.

This fic is Buck's and Eddie's FANON EPIC LOVE STORY and IMO, it has taken them places the show refuses to go!

I've loved every minute I've spent writing it and I'm looking forward to writing even more of it. Currently it's at almost 1 million words but when I first started writing it last year, I had no idea I would be this far along with it because my initial plan was for the fic to only be 12 chapters. Then I changed the amount in AO3 to undecided (?) but after I posted chapter 9 or 10, I decided 30 chapters would be sufficient.

However, after I completed chapters 24 & 25, I took a week or so to review all the things I want to include in it going forward. Once I did, I had to be honest with myself regarding the 5 remaining chapters because I realized they won't be enough. Therefore, I outlined everything that's still to come and decided to increase the fic by 10 more chapters so the Diaz family's story along with Buck's, Eddie's and Chris' individual stories will get the attention I believe they deserve.

At the end of 2023, I posted on Tumblr and indicated my plan was to finish the entire fic before the start of season 7 but that's not going to happen. Also, for those who have been reading along, I want to assure you that just because the new season is set to begin in three days, that doesn't mean this fic is over. It's NOT FINISHED because there's so much more I have planned for the characters and I will continue writing it until I've posted all 40 chapters. If my timeline works the way I'm hoping, my new plan is to complete it during the hiatus after season 7 ends but before season 8 (if there is one) begins.

There's so much more to come for Buck, Eddie and Chris and a quick reminder, just because Buck and Eddie are married and Buck has adopted Chris, all three of their stories will continue.

Here are of the things that still need to be completed.

Eddie's still working towards obtaining two more paramedic certifications so he can become the Critical Care Paramedic of Los Angeles County.

Chris still has to complete the video game he's working on with his classmates.

Buck is still on medical leave and after they returned to L.A.; he told Eddie he didn't know if he wanted to go back to the 118. The question is will he or is he going to find new employment? 👀

Furthermore, Buck and Eddie put a bid in on a house while they were in Italy. Are they going to get it? 🙃

Chapter 25 ended with a massive cliffhanger and the person who sent Buck the package still has to be revealed. 🥹

Finally, their vow renewal ceremony is scheduled for May 2024 and they're going back to Italy for the entire month of June. Adriana's sons are going with them but Buck and Eddie still have to talk with Chris about the University of Florence's summer program when he returns home and they still have to talk to Adri and Tonio to see if Chris' cousins can go too.

So, please believe me when I say there's so much more in store for them and that's why I believe adding 10 additional chapters will allow me to continue to tell their story in a way that's not rushed and I won't have to include any time jumps to fit it all in.

Thank you again for reading, commenting in AO3 and for reblogging the posts about this fic. I really appreciate everyone's support and encouragement.

AND REMEMBER... THIS FANFIC WON'T BE FINISHED UNTIL THE LAST CHAPTER HAS BEEN POSTED!

__________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-25 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[the-eyes-of-andyserkis]

"Bringin' Home the Rain" Chapter 5 progress update + some WIPs, why not!

Klaue

"Bringin' Home the Rain" - Chapter 5 - Foundations

It's definitely still a ways off from being finished, but progress is being made! I'm happy to say that it's pretty much all on the page, so to speak, and is also already just over 6k as a rough draft with plenty of filling out to be done, so it will easily be the longest chapter. And it's pretty well, uhh, all smut. 🥴

At any rate, there's no set date for this yet but at least I can really get going with the "macro" edit!

"Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" - Part two of the BHTR series

We're definitely not done after chapter five! I realized pretty early on after starting to rework this that Klaue and Reader were going to keep at it (😉), but rather than add more chapters to what is now "part one", it felt like it made more sense to create a separate fic since there will likely be a small time jump, and it'll be spread over a longer period of time as they continue to get up to ��️shenanigans✨️.

"Find Me in the Air" - Part three of the BHTR series

I'm planning on this essentially being a sort of extended epilogue (and I do basically know how this will end). While it's still rough at this point, it will definitely be at least three parts/chapters, like a series of one shots over an even longer period of time before I wrap things up.

"Hiding From the Sun" - sub!Klaue one-shot

Self explanatory. 😉 *raises eyebrows aggressively* Also, shout out to The Next Big Franchise discord for, uh, awakening something in me/us. 😈

Alfred Pennyworth

As yet untitled Alfred x F Reader series

Set in "The Batman" universe

This one keeps changing it's damn shape on me, and the title continues to elude me, but I think I've settled on a sort of "established relationship" series. Maybe. 😂 Either way, I'm not going to settle on a specific number of chapters at this point, as I feel like this may be more open-ended. Listen, I have thots and they need to go somewhere, so I'll figure it out eventually!

"Lotus" - Yoga Instructor AU Alfred x F Reader one-shot

Inspired by the lovely @tarabyte3's AU PT!Kino idea! ❤️ Also by going to my first class in ages and after internally debating for about two seconds which Andy blorbo would make a good yoga instructor before immediately realizing that Alfred would be perfect.

Alfred started exploring yoga to help with his injury and enjoyed and appreciated it so much that he started teaching. You're taken aback by the handsome, and older, new instructor who's very much outside of the usual demographic, and when he starts offering private sessions you nervously sign up.

This will be either one or two parts, we'll see how it shakes out!

"Fealty" (working title) - Arthurian Legend inspired AU Alfred x F OC series

I just got inspiration for this one yesterday! Plot twist: Alfred is the Lord/King and OC is a Knight (so is Bruce, of course), and in this universe both women and men are Knights. I'm lightly planning for this to be three to five chapters at this point, but again this is very new and liable to change. Mutual pining, forbidden love, slow burn, all that good stuff.

I'm making a list of some books and movies for research, and if anyone has recommendations for some universe-building inspiration, I'm open to suggestions!

Damn, five months ago I had no idea I'd actually be almost finished my first fic in years (and first multi-chapter fic, period), let alone have a list of WIPs/ideas! Thank you to everyone who has commented and encouraged me thus far, it's means more than you know. 🥰

Header by me | Divider by @saradika.

[indelibleevidence]

Broken Wings, chapter 1 (Reller, M-rated)

Author's Note: Also on FanFiction.Net and AO3! Updating on Saturdays, because I made sure to actually finish the fic before I started posting it, to ensure I didn't consign it to WIP hell like my other WIPs. XD

Wow, this is going to be a lot of explaining, but here we go! First off, if you haven't read Strikethrough, Crossroads, and the Damaged Goods summaries for the rest of the fics that I haven't written in between Crossroads and this one, go do that first. There's also a one-shot called Stalling that's set a month or two before this fic, but it's not necessary reading to get what's going on here.

This fic contains suicidal ideation, suicidal distress, and a depiction of Remi at rock bottom. If you're in a bad place, it might be better if you don't read this right now. (And I hope you feel less terrible soon.)

Remi is a lot different from the Remi in Crossroads. She's got pretty much all of her memories from her Jane years back now, and is a little bit softer and less sweary, until she's provoked, and then she reverts to 'fuck you' mode. Much like Jane's 4x15/4x16 self in canon, she's overwhelmed by the weight of her past mistakes, as Remi and as Jane. She's definitely not on the 'yay, law enforcement' train, and is still mostly ACAB in nature, but she knows that at least Kurt and his team are well-intentioned, and their eyes are open to the corruption within the system (mainly because of the first set of tattoos). By this point in my timeline, she also has accepted the fact that she's in love with Kurt, but she'd die before she'd ever admit it to him.

Jane is referred to as a third person throughout this fic, because neither Remi nor Kurt are at the 'Jane and Remi are just two time periods sans memories for one person' stage of acceptance. Also because it's easier for me, as a writer, to differentiate between those different time periods and mindsets by just using the names she was going by at the time. I do think that in another year down the Damaged Goods timeline, both Remi and Kurt will stop referring to Jane as a separate entity, but Remi kind of needs it right now, and though Kurt is further down the line as seeing Jane as a part of Remi, he's still getting there too. So things might seem a little bit disassociative identity disordery, and I apologise to anyone who might stumble upon this who actually lives with DID and hates what I did with this. But Remi is compartmentalising a LOT, though interestingly enough, now she's seeing Jane as the better person, whereas before, she loathed Jane with the fire of a thousand suns. The difference a few memories can make...

This fic is complete, so I'll post updates on Saturdays, I guess. This is my first time actually finishing a multi-chaptered fic before starting to post, but I really didn't want to start posting another WIP that was going to hang around in limbo (I'm sorry, Remember to Forgive and Taken for Granted fans! I will get there, I hope!).

Lastly, I really have to thank nachosandcheeze for her enthusiasm for this AU, and her encouragement for me to keep writing for it. She's not the only one who's been lovely about it (and thank you to everyone who cares about my weird little enemies to lovers universe where Jane never quite made it back to her brain - really, you guys are fantastic!), but she's been pretty consistently poking me with metaphorical sticks, and making Remi gifsets, and squeeing over Reller, etc. - to the point where I showed her the half-scene I had written from a fic several fics away from where I'd left off with Crossroads, just to get it out of my brain. And she loved it so much that I wrote a bit more, and a bit more, until over 16k later, I ended up with this. So thank you again, nachos. You're proof that nagging a fic author for more story does actually work, sometimes! :D

*

Absently tracing the carving on the stone with her finger, Remi glanced over to the small vial of clear liquid on her nightstand. It sat on top of a small, leatherbound booklet—El Libro de la Eternidad—which she’d smuggled out of Peru, along with the stone brick from Machu Picchu. Maybe she should feel guilty that she’d stolen a couple of pieces of Peruvian history from its citizens, even if one of them was a loose brick, but after all the things she’d done in her short fuck-up of a life, her conscience was way past that. And the brick contained a carved message for her: RB 4 RB, Roman Briggs for Remi Briggs, along with binary code that pointed to Roman’s data caches, and a message that had made tears sting her eyes.

Hey, sis.

I got you something. I never solved this one.

 I hope you can. I did my best.

May you outlive this… for both of us.

Your brother, always,

Roman

Even during his bitter feud with Jane—Remi still flinched to think of him ZIPped and claustrophobic in his FBI cell, even though she now remembered Jane’s reasons, and her anguish at her brother’s state—Roman had still been looking for a cure for her. He’d had his own, the one she’d stolen from Dr. Roga and used to cure herself—after all, Roman had died before he’d had the chance to benefit from it. But still, he’d hunted down more Stanton cells, which meant that now, Remi had a cure for ZIP poisoning all lined up.

She had everything she needed. If Roman’s cache intel was right, New York billionaire hypochondriac Ken Lee would trade El Libro de la Eternidad for the Stanton cells. Dr. Roga could synthesise a new cure, if Kurt approached her. And Remi would need that cure, because the ZIP on the nightstand would be going into her body, as soon as she laid the plan out for Kurt.

There was just one more thing left to do.

Setting aside Roman’s carving, she accessed the video recording setting on her phone, and held it up so that her face was visible. She’d made a video for her future self once before, to further Phase One of her grand plan by introducing Jane to Oscar, and verifying his trustworthiness.

And you know how that turned out, her internal critic whispered.

Swallowing hard, Remi made herself focus on the task at hand, ignoring the guilt gnawing on the synapses at the back of her mind. How was she going to start this thing? Saying hello seemed redundant.

“I know you’re suffering right now, and I’m sorry for that. You don’t remember your old life, and that’s intentional. Please, trust me when I say you shouldn’t go hunting for the finer details. I’m sparing you a lifetime of pain and futility by taking the ZIP, even though you might not be able to appreciate that.”

She sounded whiny as hell, but how else could she put it? She had to make future Jane understand that this was for the best.

“The only options, as I see them, are suicide or ZIP. I’ve got enough here that I should be able to wipe out any trace of my old memories. You might get a few flashes, but I hope you don’t. You don’t need to go through this again.”

If you weren’t such a coward, you’d just put a shotgun barrel in your mouth and pull the trigger. Maybe Jane would think she was cowardly. But she wasn’t afraid to die. She just didn’t want Kurt to have to suffer, knowing his wife was dead along with Remi.

“I’m doing this, instead of killing myself, because you have good people around you, people I’ve already hurt enough, and don’t want to hurt any more by making them lose you. You have loyal friends. A husband who loves you very much. Things will be hard for you at first, but you’ll build a life again, like you did before. And this time, you’ll know who did this to you, and why, and you won’t have me telling you to disregard your instincts and undermine the people you care about. I was misled, and betrayed, but I made bad choices, too. I was too stubborn to see it for so long, but the first time we were ZIPped, Jane found happiness, and a new purpose, and even though I still don’t think law enforcement is the shining star of morality… If you’re working with Kurt and his team, you’ll be working towards good things. Hold onto that.”

She took a breath, picking up the ancient Peruvian brick again.

“The one thing I want to tell you about is my—our—brother, Roman. Or Ian. That was his birth name, just like yours was Alice. Ian Kruger. Later, Roman Briggs. He wasn’t perfect, as I’m sure Kurt will tell you. But he was a follower his whole life, not a leader. He followed me, and our adopted mother, because he loved us, and didn’t want to be rejected. Jane hurt him too much, and he turned on her, and on Kurt, but deep down, he was a good man. He just wanted a loving family, to belong somewhere.”

She held the brick up in the camera’s sight. “I want you to keep this. Take care of it. This points to his last message from him to me, on his data caches. To Remi, I mean. Not the old version of Jane.” How did things get so confusing? “I have the actual message saved on my phone, so you should be able to see the message itself there. As for the brick, I took it from Peru, along with something to bargain with for a cure for your ZIP poisoning. Roman was looking for a cure for me, even while he knew I—the old Jane—was working to bring him down. He just wanted his sister back, I guess.”

If she kept this up for much longer, she was going to get too damn emotional, and there was no way she was willing to break down and cry on video. She had to cut this short. “Roman and I went through hell together, and that’s one of the things I don’t want you to remember anything about, so I won’t go into it. But we survived our childhood by relying on each other, and then our teenage years were the same, in a different way. We used to pass a South African rand coin our parents gave us back and forth, giving it to each other as a gift. It wasn’t worth much back then—and it’d buy even less now—but its symbolic value for us was priceless. For Roman, it was a comfort object. Jane buried him with it, so I don’t have it now, but I wanted you to know about it.”

She dug her fingernails into her palm, a technique she’d first used at the orphanage to keep outwardly calm, while a torrent of emotions churned within her. The pain centred her, making the grief easier to bear.

“Things went so wrong, but I never stopped loving Roman, even as Jane. And he never stopped loving me.”

She sighed, knowing she should say more, should give Jane more closure, but knowing she’d never be able to get through it on camera. Maybe she’d write Jane a letter, before Kurt ZIPped her.

“I hope you can build a life again, and find happiness. You sure as hell couldn’t do worse than I did. Please, look forward, not back. There’s nothing here but pain. Good luck.”

She threw down the phone and buried her face in her hands, breathing deeply, striving for the numbness that could get her through the final days of this life. Soon she’d fly to New York, and wipe the slate clean.

The end of my memories can’t come soon enough. I can’t do this anymore.

*

Three days later…

Kurt stared from the vial and hypodermic needle to his wife, a rapidly growing pit in his stomach. What…is happening here? What the hell, Remi?

“It’s okay,” she said, shrugging as though this was a foregone conclusion, a logical end to everything they’d battled through on their way to this moment. “I’ve made my peace with it. There’s nothing left here for me now. This is Jane’s world, and I don’t belong in it. At least…at least this way, you can get her back. Or as close to it as it’s possible to get.”

“It’s okay?” he finally managed to say, his throat choked with an intense mass of emotions that he couldn’t even begin to analyse right now. “Your identity is what makes you you, Remi. You’ve fought to defend it so damn hard, it nearly drove us apart for good. You’ve spent over a year getting so many of your memories back, and now you want a clean slate again? I know you remember how hard it was for you after Times Square, and after Cape Town.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, still not meeting his eyes. “The first time, you didn’t know who Jane was. Nobody knew. This time, everyone will. And she’ll have you, and your friends. It’s…easier that way. Even though I hated you when I found out what had happened to Sandstorm, at least I had…” She shook her head. “Anyway—Jane will adjust quickly. You can get the woman you married back, as she was.”

The words shook him, in so many different ways. He rubbed a hand over his face, floundering to make sense of everything.

To get his Jane back…it was everything he’d dreamed of for so long. During those ten months that Remi had gone off the radar, he’d been desperate to find a way to bring Jane back to the forefront of her mind. Aside from Bethany and work, it had been all he’d thought about, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a spark of hope for that outcome now.

But it was all wrong. It was a fairytale. Jane had been a product of the situation she’d been in, from the bag in Times Square to not knowing who she was, to thinking she was Taylor Shaw and then discovering she wasn’t, to being tortured by the CIA—and then discovering she used to be Remi Briggs, daughter of the leader of a terrorist organisation. She’d become who she was because of the way things had been back then, the way her new life had unfolded, and there was no way to know how much of that would be replicated in a newly ZIPped Remi.

Remi. God… I… He swallowed hard, something akin to grief seeping into his bones.

“What about you? This is like…like mental suicide for a huge part of you. You really want to kill yourself that badly? Why not shoot yourself in the head? Jump off a building? Overdose on pills?” His voice was harsher than he meant it to come out—demanding, angry.

Terrified. He was goddamn terrified.

Remi flinched at his tone, finally looking into his eyes. “Because you don’t want to live without her. And if I did one of those things, you’d have to face that she’d never come back.”

He rose from the couch abruptly, the twister of conflicted emotions within him too much to handle if he stayed still. Tears filled his eyes as he stalked over to the kitchen, and he rested his palms on the worktop, his back to Remi, as he tried to breathe.

“So you really want to die?” he managed to ask.

“There’s nothing left for me. My mother, my brother, my friends, my cause, my convictions… Everything is gone, Weller. There’s no point in trying to rebuild. I’ve spent the past year not knowing what to do with myself, fucking things up…”

He turned on her, snarling, “There’s nothing left for you? Then what the hell am I? Why do you keep coming back? After everything that’s happened, you don’t care enough to stick around?”

She got to her feet, crossed the room, her eyes sad. “The only thing I care about in this life is you, and I hurt you constantly, just by not being Jane. This way, it kills two birds with one stone. My empty life goes away, and you get Jane back. You get to be happy, and I get to…forget.”

A tear slid down his cheek, and he dashed it away impatiently. “Remi…”

She reached up to brush another tear from the corner of his eye, her fingers gentle. “I don’t want either of us to hurt anymore. We’ve suffered enough.”

Staring down at her, he finally put names to the emotions within him. Fear and pain had been easy to identify on their own, but they were joined by a surge of something else, so strong and fierce and breathtakingly real that he could hardly bear it.

Remi… Fuck, I can’t lose you. I need you.

I love you.

Despite everything she’d done to him, all the mental torment she’d put him through, the bitter arguments they’d had, the misunderstandings and deceit that had shredded their trust in each other…he’d fallen for the whole of her, just as hard as he had for the Jane part of her. Remi was Jane, intensified. She’d called herself damaged goods, and he couldn’t disagree, but so was he. Remi understood him in a way Jane never could have on her own.

And he was suddenly, powerfully certain that she loved him just as much.

Unable to control himself, he pulled her into his arms, giving her a crushing kiss that seemed to shock the breath from her, even as she returned it just as ardently. Part of him wanted to reject this whole conversation, carry her to bed, fuck her until they were both too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep in each other’s arms.

But this was too serious to hide from, even temporarily. He had to make his position clear.

Wrenching away from her, he stalked over to the table, picked up the small bottle of ZIP and brought it to the kitchen sink. Unscrewing the lid, he poured the contents down the drain, then dropped the bottle and turned to Remi, who was staring at him as though he’d gone mad.

“What the hell?” she demanded.

“Listen to me,” he told her, his eyes locked on hers. “I will never use that stuff on you. Ever. It doesn’t matter to me that there’s a cure for ZIP poisoning all lined up. There’s no going back for us. I can’t just inject you and turn you back into the Jane you used to be. It wouldn’t work like that.”

She sighed, looking down at the splashes of ZIP remaining in the sink. “Better the devil you know than the angel you don’t?”

He cupped her face in both hands, making sure she couldn’t look away from his face. “You’re my devil, and my angel, and everything in between. Remi, the thought of losing you scares the hell out of me. You’re my wife, and you may not be the way you were when we got married, but you’re still the woman I fell in love with, deep down.”

She was frowning, shaking her head, and he rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as she drew in a shaky breath.

“I love you, just as much as I did when you were Jane. You didn’t make it easy to get to know you, but every time you let me in a little more, I fell for you even further. I need you to stay you.”

“What?” She breathed the word, and he opened his eyes to find her visibly trembling. Her expression was a study in contradictions. Fear. Hope. Anger. Longing.

Kurt smiled sadly. “It’s too late. I already know you love me, too.”

She tore herself out of his arms, stepped out of his reach. “Stop it. This has gone far enough, Weller.”

“No. It hasn’t gone anywhere near far enough. You’re so scared of making yourself vulnerable, of being hurt again, that you’re hurting yourself so that I’ll never have that power over you.” He took a step closer, and she backed into the living room immediately.

He’d once mentally compared her to a trapped animal, defensively clawing and snarling out of fear. He saw that same distress in her now, and ached to hold her, even though it would only make the situation worse.

“I thought we were over this,” she said, her voice brittle. “I’m not Jane.”

“No, you’re not Jane. You’re Remi. I see you, the whole of you. I know exactly who you are, and I love you.”

She eyed the apartment door, her fists bunched at her sides and her jaw set.

“Don’t run from this. Please.” He took another slow, careful step, and though she backed up again, her eyes were on him once more.

“You never took off your wedding ring, even when you were telling me you hated me. You’ve opened up to me more than once. You’ve trusted me to keep you safe, and you’ve forgiven me for mistakes I’ve made, and I’ve done the same for you.”

She pulled at the ring on her finger, trying to remove it. “You can believe what you want to believe, but it’s not true. It was just about sex and anger, and then we became friends with benefits. That’s it.”

He caught hold of her left hand and held it between his, before she could take off the wedding band. “You didn’t even want to admit you wanted me, back when we first realised we still needed each other. Even when you were halfway to coming. Is it gonna be the same now?”

She snorted, but didn’t try to yank her hand free from his. “What, you think you’re gonna fuck a confession of love out of me? It’s not the same thing, Weller.”

“Is that what it’s gonna take?” He couldn’t pretend he was surprised. They’d resolved so many of their other issues through arguing their way into sex. Why would this be any different?

Her jaw trembled before she firmed it, glaring at him. “No, because it won’t work. It’s not true.”

With anyone else, he’d take that as their final answer. A rejection that he’d have to accept and move on from. But with Remi, things had never been straightforward and simple.

She tested him at every turn, refusing to take anything he said at face value, and this thing with the ZIP was likely a part of it. He wanted to believe that was all it was—a manipulation, a shock tactic designed to scare him into laying all his cards on the table—but his gut told him otherwise.

She would never have risked him saying yes to her offer to ‘become Jane again’ if she hadn’t been prepared to accept the consequences. She was too proud to back down from something she’d said she’d do. And that meant that she really was at a desperate end point, unable to find a way to move forward from the ruins they’d left of her pre-ZIP life.

Kurt needed her to see that he could help her find the path, if she’d only trust herself to walk it. But first, she had to know he wasn’t going anywhere, that he wasn’t just settling for a doppelgänger until he decided to stop clinging to Jane’s memory.

And they both had to be clear where they stood with each other.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”

Remi stared at him, for a moment seeming completely taken aback. Then her protective bravado and anger kicked in. “You say ‘jump’, I say ‘how high’? No!”

Even as he understood her reasons for refusing—knew she was just trying to protect herself—her words still stung.

“I love you, Remi.” He shrugged, standing straighter as he laid out his challenge. “If you don’t feel the same way, I need to know. So come on—break my heart.”

God, this is going to hurt.

He believed that she loved him. But whether she’d ever admit it to herself, let alone to him, was another story entirely.

[reliablejoukido]

NaNo Project Update #5: Week 4/Finale

"Somewhere Only We Know" Chapters 11-16

Chapter 11/16: Hikari and Takeru, mostly Hikari POV - 100% COMPLETE!

Chapter 12/16: Daisuke and Ken, both POV - 100% COMPLETE!

Chapter 13/16: Miyako and Koushiro, mostly Miyako POV - 100% COMPLETE!

Chapter 14/16: Ensemble adv cast, mostly Taichi POV - 0%

Chapter 15/16: Sora and Joe, mostly Sora POV - 0%

Chapter 16/16: Ensemble 02 cast, Mimi & Joe - multiple POV - 0%

I set out at the beginning of NaNo to write only SOWK, hoping to finish the story. Obviously it didn't quite work out that way, but I'm happy with getting 3 out of 6 chapters accomplished. I will make a more comprehensive project update soon, but in essence, I'm taking a break from writing this story until the spring. I WILL be posting the 3 finished chapters much sooner though.

_____________

"The Universal Language of Friendship" Chapters 1-6

ON HOLD - about 35% done

Still on hold. Still not feeling it. But I do have plans to return. Thank you to everyone supporting me.

_____________

"(Don't) stop flirting" - Daiken oneshot (rated M)

100% COMPLETE!

I'm really proud of how this one turned out, even though it was relatively short.

_____________

"Bar-Crossed Lovers" - Daiyako multi-chaptered (rated M)

100% COMPLETE!

I got this one up past 11k, which helped my NaNo numbers a lot. I adore Daiyako/Daimiya and I want to explore this ship more in the future. At first, with this fic, I was worried everything was too way silly. But then I realized I didn't have to make it serious if I didn't feel like it. So this is the most unabashedly romcom-y story I think I've ever written. And I've written a lot of romcom.

_____________

"Backstreet's Back" (working title) - Daikenkeru oneshot (rated explicit)

????%

I've had bits and pieces of this Daikenkeru threesome fic written for a few years now. Most of my writing for it took place after I reached 50k, but I'm still counting this as a project I worked on during NaNo. The fic is chaotic and sexy and weird. And if you know the real reason why the working title is "Backstreet's Back", I love you.

I want to take my time during December on this one, since I'm technically supposed to be taking a writing break. I'm sure there are people out there interested in reading this type of fic, so I've been wanting to actually finish it for a long time.

_____________

I accomplished 50k and beyond! All in all, my first NaNo was pretty fun. Everyone in the Camp Digimonth server was wonderfully kind and supportive, as well as my followers and mutuals here on tumblr. I'm really glad I took a chance with NaNo. I have to admit that I did get stressed out a few times trying to stay ahead of the game with my wordcount, causing me to panic about how I wanted to move forward with the month. But talking it out with encouraging friends was a blessing.

Work projects, my cousin's wedding, the 02 film, a bad headcold, Jou Weekend, and Thanksgiving all threw hurdles at me, both good and stressful. But I prevailed and I'm proud of myself. I still can't believe I decided to work on 5 projects over NaNo instead of one, but I think in doing that, it helped keep the momentum going. Whenever I got stuck on something with SOWK, I was able to pick up a different project and work from there. And all of those separate projects were something exciting to work on.

Anyway, I hope everyone who participated in NaNo 2023 had a good one, no matter where you ended up progress-wise with your projects. And a BIG thank you to everyone who was supportive of the people doing NaNo this month!

[lesbianrobin]

hi!! jumping off from all the love for ur fics (SO DESERVED by the way u are such a good writer + always nail the characterisations so well <3), i was wondering if u had any writing advice? i'm trying to start writing my own fics after years of reading others + finding it hard to actually finish anything once i get started

thank you so much!! i'm not an expert by any means but i have been writing lil fics since i was a kid and i took one (1) creative writing class so hopefully i can help a little bit!! i'm just gonna give you some bullet point tips if that's okay.

you'll have an easier time finishing the things you start if you start with small ideas. if you know you're unlikely to finish a super-long multi-chapter fic, then start with something short!! choose an idea that you can realistically explore and find some conclusion to within a thousand or two thousand words. for example, one of my favorite things i've ever written is i want your midnights, which is straight up just steve and robin hanging out and counting down the minutes til midnight on new years eve! it's only 2,156 words and i'm pretty sure i wrote it in one sitting. not that you have to write something in one sitting ksndcdm that isn't what i'm saying but my Point is that most people (myself included) need to work up to writing longer fics. there's nothing wrong with just writing a single scene! my "dear steve" fic ab max writing her goodbye letters is only 625 words. another one of my favorite fics is just about steve and max having a conversation at billy's funeral. i think single-scene fics like these really let you practice your dialogue and characterization without having to worry about plot at the same time.

write towards something!! this could mean just having an ending in mind when you start, or it could mean literally writing your big scenes first even if they don't come first chronologically. when i wrote my steve time loop fic, i actually wrote his big conversation with nancy and jonathan before almost anything else. that scene is over 3000 words into the fic, but it's the thing that really inspired me, so i went ahead and wrote it, and then i liked it so much that i was motivated to write all the stuff beforehand and then motivated to finish the fic up. this isn't gonna work for everyone. i know some people (cough sarah @steveharrington cough) who just can't make themselves write things out of order. but even if you write everything in order, it can help to keep in mind whatever you want to happen in the future to motivate you and give you some idea of how to direct your writing.

don't stop reading!! all the time i see people make mistakes or use clunky verbiage in fic that makes it clear they just. don't really read books or short stories or anything. like this might make me sound mean kdsjncdkmn but sometimes it can be like. really obvious when All somebody reads is fanfiction. i think that reading varied things (books, fics, short stories, articles, poems, etc) can also help you develop your own style because you'll get greater exposure to different writing techniques and have the opportunity to figure out what you like and don't like!

if you're new to writing in general, i encourage you to try different things. try writing a scene in past tense, then try it in present tense, see which you like better, that sort of thing!

this one is easier said than done, but having a writing buddy can be really helpful!! this doesn't necessarily need to be somebody who also writes fic. i send my bestie sarah updates as i write, and part of my motivation to write comes from how fun it is to send her updates and get her reactions to everything!! writing can be a very solitary hobby if you want it to be, but it can also be social, and i personally find it way more rewarding when it's social.

btw if you're gonna be sharing your fics with friends i think the best place to write is in google docs. it's super easy to share with others and you can access your files on any device which i find convenient because i often end up writing on my phone in bed at night bc i had some idea i just couldn't let go.

ok this is getting way longer than i meant it to be snjcdkx so LAST TIP! i'm gonna caution against reading a Ton of fic while you're writing. i think if you read a lot of fic sometimes it can throw off your characterization. instead of actually getting inside the character's head, you default to parroting whatever fics you've read. i'm like a freak about characterization i'm very picky about it skdndkmc but people compliment me on my characterization a lot and i think that's because i make a conscious effort to keep my fics grounded in the characters' canon behavior and my Own understanding of them rather than the fanon understanding.

that's about it!! please ask if you have any more specific questions or if you're confused about anything i said here, i know i can get very ramble-y at times. thank you again and i hope you have fun writing!!

[andiinaraethtash]

1, 2, 9, 10, 20, 23, 31 aaaaand 40! <3

Okay, so I write on two different platforms: Zenwriter and Google docs. I do the first draft on Zenwriter, in comic sans, and then copy it to google docs, where I edit it. I don't care what font it's in there.

2) I could do it, my productivity would be way down, but I could do it. As it is, I do little outlines of future chapters in one of my many, many, many notebooks by hand.

9) I don't, actually. I joke about there being a ghost in my house occasionally, but I don't believe there actually is. It's just a funny way of explaining why the floor boards are creaking above us when no one's upstairs.

10) Hmm... I read. A lot. More than I write, honestly. So when I say that multiple works live rent-free in my head, I mean it. But really haunting me? No, not really. Of my own works, the one that haunts me the most is probably my really big Clone Wars/Rebels crossover, because I made mistakes, mistakes that I can't take back, especially because everyone I've talked to really enjoyed reading it, and I can't change what happened in it now. And that has, on occasion, kept me up at night.

20) Oh, I would chose the second one, hands down. I have so many ideas for fics and multiple WIPs, but the one I would probably pick is like, a seven part series with each part being multi chapter. It's the first Star Wars fanfic I ever started, but I never finished it, even though I know exactly how it'll end (Star Wars was my main fandom before I made the move to Empires, for those of you that don't know). But it had multiple characters that I fell in love with, a overarching theme that really resonated with me, and some serious twists and turns. I really want to release it someday, I'm just not sure I'll ever be happy with it because it's my baby and I want it to be perfect.

23) So! So. I still live with my parents, I'm about to be starting college in the fall. But that means I live in a relatively spacious suburban home. It has a game room upstairs that has become the unofficial homework/work/computer room. That's where I do the majority of my writing. I don't want to describe too much because at least one of my siblings has a blog on this hellsite and there's a chance they might see this and put the pieces together about who I am, but there's a couch in front of one window that has lots of natural light, where I usually sit and write. I also have a desk space, but I usually only use it if I'm gaming. But there's always activity in the room. The dogs are up here, my dad's up here, my siblings are studying... it's very comfortable and lived in, but clean and quiet... when the dogs aren't barking, at least.

31) Dear reader, We've come such a long way, haven't we. From the highest highs to the lowest lows, we've been through it all. Stars, the number of times one or both of us have almost quit hoping is insane, you know that? But we haven't. We've always pushed through. And I don't know how you do it. I honestly don't. You come in with such enthusiasm and--and love, and it just blows my mind.

You're incredible, you know that? The amount of joy you bring into my life with your upbeat attitudes, your encouragement, your endless support of what started out as a silly little way to pass the time... it has honestly, genuinely saved my life.

I don't know if you know this--and you might, I've been pretty open about it--but I got to a low point a couple years back. I got lonely. I got desperate. And I almost ended it all. But I didn't, and one thought from that time still echoes in my head. If I'm not around to tell this story, who will? Because someone out there will love this, does love this, and I can't let them down.

So in your own way, you've saved my life. I hope you understand how incredible that is--how incredible you are. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, and I love you. More than words. More than life. I love you.

--Andiine

40) I hope you understand I am no poet, but here goes:

small

unnoticeable

Just a speck in the plane of existence

but precious to someone, somewhere

Here, now

you're just a dewdrop

bending a leaf under your fragile weight

But oh, how I wish you knew how important you are

You nourish the ground

From which grow the flowers

that will one day decorate my grave.

Thank you so much for the ask, and sorry if this got long (or sappy. I am known to be sappy on occasion.) Hope you enjoyed this look into a writer's mind!

[roger-that-cap]

once upon a december

summary: you had no idea who you were, how you got to where you were, or even your real age. all you knew was that you needed to go to auren, and something there would help you find the family that you always secretly craved. little did you know, you’d find family far before you actually got to auren.

warnings: nothin’. maybe a little swearing possibly? memory loss (lol)

word count: 4.7k

so, not this being my first multi-chaptered fic up here… WOW. there’s absolutely no reason for me to put this out right now other than the fact that i wanted it to leave my drafts. ha!

part one!

You had known the cold your whole life.  When you woke up after god knows what happened, you were in the cold snow, face buried in it, clothes wet with it, and so that was what you knew. You laid in the snow for what seemed like forever, and you were lucky that a man was on his horse, selling trinkets that were said to belong to some lost princess of a far off land. The “Land of Always Summer”, everyone in the orphanage liked to call it. He carried you up onto his horse and dumped you right at the orphanage, and you weren’t even conscious enough to move your lips to thank him. But you would never forget his face and the way he tipped his hat, snow flurrying around before hopping up on his horse again and disappearing like he never existed in the first place. 

  The cold was the first thing you remembered, and the first part of the life that you now knew. Everything else was such a blur that you never even bothered to attempt at remembering what your life used to be, especially not when all of the other kids were around. 

  Growing up, they all thought you were weird. They had all been dropped off as young children, some even babies in the vicious winter storm. They knew that they couldn’t have done anything that made their parents want to chuck them, because they were too young to do so. But you? For you to have been thrown to the side at fifteen or sixteen years old, you must have been really weird. And to make it worse, you couldn’t even defend yourself. You knew nothing about yourself. Not even your name. But they had that covered for you.  

 At first, they called you Stacy. It was an old name, a name that was slowly on the rise again. It was easy to remember, and it wasn’t degrading, so you went with it at first. And then, one night, you woke up and shook your head, determined to name yourself, and not have others name you. You would give yourself at least that. Something would be yours, and if it wasn’t going to be memories, then it would be your name. You decided randomly on Y/N, and then that was what you were called from there. For years at the orphanage, that was who you were. 

  But you were done. It was the day. You had finally come of age, and it was time for you to leave, unless you wanted to be employed there. You surely did not. You were ready to get away from the people that ran the place, and the children that you grew up with and watched grow, except one. You were packing your bag, trying to keep the smile off of your face in order to not make any of the others feel bad. 

 “Today, isn’t it?” You jumped, even though the voice was one that you easily recognized. It was Lucas, the little boy who had practically become your shadow ever since he was brought to the doorstep as a baby. You were the oldest kid, you were a girl, and he had no mother. You were the one who was in charge of taking care of him because somehow, you knew how to take care of children. And you loved him, you loved him more than you had ever loved anything in your “new” life. He would be the hardest thing to leave, without question. 

  “Yes, honey.” You stopped packing your small bag so that you could walk up to him and crouch down to his height, his curly hair and sad brown eyes really plucking at your heartstrings. “I’m leaving now.” 

  “When will you be back?” He asked slowly, his eyes getting a little watery. But he had thick skin, skin so thick, skin that no child should have to wear. He wiped his eyes quickly. “Will you be back at all?” 

  “I will be, one day.” He was young, and you were hopeful, but you both knew that the chances of you coming back to the mild hell of the orphanage were slim to none. 

  “I want to leave, too.” He said, his voice tapering off into a whine at the end, his brows scrunching together. “I don’t like it here.” 

In every aspect, you thought about taking him with you. But you had nothing to support him with. You were sure that you were going to starve for a while even by yourself, and you couldn’t take the possibility of him being taken in by a good family who could provide for him away because you wanted to keep him close. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. But someone is going to see just how adorable you are and give you everything you want, alright?” 

 “A good mommy or daddy?” 

“Absolutely, my love.” You pulled him into a hug and closed your eyes, and you knew that it would probably be the last time that you were ever going to hug him. You squeezed him twice, drawing out a giggle from his little body. “Because you… what? Finish.” 

 “Because I deserve it.” 

You pulled away and smiled with pride. “That’s right. Because you deserve it.” You patted his head before turning to finish with your bag, and you hoped that you were fast enough so that he didn’t see your watering eyes. 

 It took him a few more minutes to say anything, but you knew that he was standing there and watching with his wide eyes, curiosity flaring up inside of him like always. “Don’t you have a coat?” He asked quietly. “It’s winter time.” 

“Sure, I have a coat,” you lied, your voice a calming hum in the otherwise quiet room.

 You didn’t have a coat anymore. You gave him your coat not even three weeks ago, when the heat of the fire wasn’t enough for him to stay warm in the dark of the night. You worked with dull scissors all night and a thick sewing needle that you borrowed without the warden knowing, and you got to work with the needle and made him a nice fur blanket. It was much nicer than any of the ones that any of you and the others had ever been given, and he was convinced that you hired a seamstress to make it for him. You took the compliment. 

  That was your clue, though. Your singular clue to who you were, and it wasn't even big. You remembered how to do nothing but walk, talk, write, and read in the beginning. You were about as smart as anyone else, and unlike them, you had no hobbies. Until you went to a village and saw a cheap little sewing kit, and it sparked something so faint in your mind that you knew that you would work extra chores just to be able to buy it. You knew it. 

 You were an absolute goddess with a needle and some fabric, as it turned out. Your hand never wavered, your aim was never off, and no stitch was ever too tight or too loose. Your first stitching was immaculate, and so were your second, and third, and so forth. It wasn’t until Sophia, a girl who had been with you since you had started, suggested that it was a clue to who you once were that you truly considered it to be. From then on, sewing was all you had. You hoped that it would be enough. 

  “Why don’t you get on to breakfast, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” You suggested, turning your head to give him a little smile of encouragement. He shrugged his shoulders and bounded away, leaving you with your own thoughts for a moment. 

You knew what you had to do. You had to go to the nearest town and get a job there, wherever you could knit something. You would get fast money there, hopefully, and maybe the money that you got would make you enough to buy a ticket, one to take you to the one place that stuck in your mind like it was pasted. Auren. 

Ever since you heard of the land where warmth surrounded you and the sun came down brightly on everything that breathed, you wanted to go. The cold was welcoming in a way, but the Kingdom of Auren was said to be the prettier one between it and Yuran. Yuran was cold and unforgiving, but beautiful if one allowed themselves an open mind. You didn’t want to have to think too much, not about something that should be so plain in front of you. But Auren was far, and it was expensive to get there. 

Chore money hardly got you that sewing kit, and it sure as hell wasn’t enough for a horse, or a train ticket. 

  By the time you got to the breakfast table with your bag around your shoulders, your plate was already made. Lucas was sitting next to it, where he always sat, and he grinned at you the second you walked into the room. The others were all demolishing their breakfast, because it was a good meal today. Bacon and eggs and even pancakes, which were a rarity. A big meal was made every time a person aged out or got adopted, and it was tradition. You almost teared up. It was your big meal, this time. 

You sat down in the chair and ruffled Lucas’s hair, putting the napkin on your lap and rearranging your spoon and fork. The sounds of cutlery against dishes was almost as loud as the others chewing, sloppily and without a care in the world as they stole glances at you, even the ones who didn’t particularly care for you. 

“Loosen up, would you?” A boy named Julius asked, like he did at every meal. “You always look so… so…” 

“You look fancy when you eat.” Sophia explained in a bored tone, nodding towards the way you held your fork and knife. “I don’t know why he feels the need to say it every single time we sit down together, but-”

“Because it’s true, Sophie,” he spat, and you sighed. You wouldn't miss the arguing, that was for sure. 

“So, where will you go?” Dalia, a brown skinned girl who had the cutest gap in her teeth and the brightest eyes in the orphanage asked. 

“I’m hoping to get a job as a seamstress in the village,” you said somewhat strongly, even though you were nervous. Actually, you were nearly bursting out of your own skin. What if they didn’t take you? 

“That will be a good job for you, you’re really good at it.” The entire facility could agree on that. Every time one of them ruined their pants or ripped a shirt so badly that the caretakers just told them to throw it away, they came to you. From the time that you came and up until the day you left, you had made entire wardrobes for them all. 

“I hope so, Dal.” You sighed out, giving a nice smile when you put a syrupy piece of pancake in your mouth, not talking until you swallowed again. “Are you guys going to be good?” 

“We’re always good, Y/N,” Lucas said with a small eye roll. “You don’t have to worry about us.” You wished that you didn’t. 

After everyone was finished eating, the door opened, and in walked the tall and broad shouldered woman who owned the orphanage. You saw all of the other kids sigh and look away, and you did the opposite. You were older, and this woman was mean, but she didn’t scare you. She was bitter, but that was all she was. “You’re leaving.” 

“In a few minutes,” you added, and then kept eye contact with her when you put a piece of bacon in your mouth, nearly collapsing at the taste. God, breakfast hadn’t been so good since Susanne left. You felt Lucas tug on your pant leg, his arm reaching under the table. 

“Good.” The woman said, and she gave you a once over. “I imagine that you’d want to work at the dress shop in the village, correct?” 

“That’s my goal.” 

“Hm.” She took a few steps closer. “I heard there’s an opening there, if you want it.” She looked towards the windows. “But you’ll have to make it quick. You’re not the only girl with quick fingers and a needle, you know.”

She wanted you out. You knew that. She never really liked you, and you never cared for her much, either. You came too late for her to get attached to, not even in that oddly placed way that she loved everyone else. “When do you suggest I take my leave?”

“Within the hour,” she answered immediately. “You don’t want to get lost in the dark, you know.” You frowned. It was eight in the morning, there was no way that the sun was going down any time soon. You knew that she just wanted you to leave, and so did everyone else at the table who was older than nine. 

“Okay.” You said, not anywhere near to being in the mood to start an argument with her. That’s not how you wanted Lucas to remember you, at all. So, you kissed his forehead, waved goodbye to all of the other kids, and then got up from your chair. 

The worst part of leaving was finally approaching, close enough to raise its fist and knock on your door. You had seen it happen millions of times it seemed, and yet, you thought that you would be exempt from it. The children were always ushered back to their rooms once another left, and you were sure that it had everything to deal with not wanting them to see what freedom looked like. The warden didn’t want them to witness what it looked like when an orphan got their own wings.

“Wait!” Lucas shouted, and he nearly yanked your arm out of the socket before shoving a little, wooden toy soldier in your hand, the one that he always played with. 

Your heart was warm. It was so warm that you had a hard time forming your next words, your mind so full of adoration for this little boy who had been your living shadow, your source of happiness in a world that had given you none at all, nevermind on a silver platter. You took in a deep breath at seeing one out of two of his favorite toys, the one that he always made you take so that he could play with the other one. The one he was trying to give you had an idle gun with it, and the other had it cocked aimed. Lucas’s one won every time. 

You gave him a sad smile. “No, kiddo, you can keep it.” 

“I have another one.” He rushed out. “Please, take it. That way we can still play when we’re far away.” 

Oh. Oh. If you could have chosen to stay there with him until he grew too old to be there, you would have. You would have a million times over. You knew that he had even the old, bitter woman thinking twice about her decision to throw you out when she made a hmph noise and turned away, her long dress exiting last. 

“Alright. I’ll take it, Lucas.” You ruffled his hair again. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” 

“I’ll miss you, too.” He hugged you tightly, and then you were swarmed by all of the younger kids, who held you all together in the customary send off hug as tears came through your shut eyes. 

“I’m going to miss all of you, you know.” 

“I’ll miss you, too,” you heard back, coming from about twenty different voices that you recognized individually. 

“I’ll miss you. Even that posh accent and the way that you eat and sit,” Julius admitted, and you cracked a smile at him. 

“I don’t have an accent, but, thank you.” You said, and you reached over and flicked his forehead. “You guys are all amazing, and don’t you ever not think that for a second. You deserve the best, and one day, you’ll get that for yourselves.” 

You looked at all of their faces, and saw them watching you. Despite how much some of the older ones didn’t like you sometimes simply because you were older, they listened to you. “You are the best children anyone could ever ask for, and if people don’t see that, they’re dumb.” 

“We don’t need parents to feel validated,” Sophie nodded. 

“Precisely!” You said, and then you cleared your throat when you saw some of them look at you strangely. “Exactly. Now, you guys remember that, okay?” They nodded their heads, and you pulled your back tighter. “Alright. I’ll miss you.” 

You watched them be ushered into their rooms, watching the backs of their heads disappear, even hearing a few sniffles. You clenched your jaw and cleared your throat, shaking your head clear of any worries or trace of sadness, and then you walked up to the door. 

No one would accompany you out there. No one was going to be able to tell you which way to go, not metaphorically or even directions wise. There wasn’t going to be anyone like Sophia, who had clued you in on your past so kindly before. No one was going to be beside you, and you were going to miss it, no matter how nagging everyone was. 

  You took in a deep breath as you felt the chill of the door on your hand, and you wrapped yourself in the blanket that came from your bag. You only regretted for a split second that Lucas had your coat, but then you remembered that he needed it much more than you did. And so, he had it. You opened the door to light snowfall, and immediately once you stepped onto the cold ground, a snowflake fell onto your cheek. 

Slowly, you walked up to the rusted gates that were probably once a brilliant silver, and then you looked back at the rundown place before touching the gate, forgetting all about rust. You took in a second deep breath and closed your eyes, because you knew that once you stepped foot outside of the gates of the orphanage, there was no going back. 

You were an orphan no longer once you stepped away. You were an adult. You were the caretaker, not the one to be cared for. 

You nodded your head to yourself and pushed the door to the gates open, hearing the same sound that you had always heard after breakfast when someone left, but it was much louder up close. You almost jumped at how easy it was to get open, and then you slipped through, shutting it after yourself quickly. You huffed out a breath and saw it fog up in the air, and then you felt tears burn in your eyes. 

You were leaving behind the family that you barely even realized that you had. And you would likely never see them again. And this was all because you wanted to find the family that had tossed you aside like yesterday’s newspaper, like you were someone else’s problem. 

But it wasn’t really to meet them, you knew. It was so that you could see what you had or hadn’t been missing. 

Your feet were moving before you even knew that they were. You looked back and couldn’t even see the orphanage anymore, and you had a strong urge to run in again and say that you regretted leaving, but you couldn’t. So you kept walking. 

§§§

You didn’t have a watch, but you knew that it had been hours since you started walking away from the orphanage. Your hands were getting a tingly feeling in them, and your pants were wet with snow. They weren’t nearly enough for you to be protected, and you really regretted not saving up for some real pants instead of a new sewing kit. 

You hadn’t passed a single road sign during the entire walk. You expected to see something, maybe even a landmark that the bitter woman would talk about, something that would spark a memory even, but you got nothing. You had absolutely no idea where you were, and you were starting to get scared. 

You were definitely in the woods, that was for sure. You were in so deep that turning back was the less intelligent option. You hadn’t heard another voice in hours, or even the sound of horses and carriages. Nothing. Where the hell were you? 

 Your foot caught a tree root that was hidden by a somewhat thick layer of snow, and you went down hard. You grunted when you hit the ground, and you immediately reached out for the ankle that started throbbing. You hissed when you touched it and then threw your head back, nearly starting to cry from being scared out of your mind and frustrated at the same time. 

“Why didn’t they give me a map?” You asked aloud, slamming a hand on the ground before bracing yourself to stand on the very tree that had got the better of you.

You only got three steps before falling over again, the pain in your ankle far too strong for you to go much further. You bit down a cry as you tilted your head up towards the sky, which was getting darker by the minute. 

You were going to die out there. After your first night alone. You were about to die. 

“Um, miss?” You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of another voice, scrambling up even though you felt the pain in your ankle intensify. “You shouldn’t stand on that.” 

When you finally turned around, you were met with a man on a gray horse, who looked just as confused as you. Even from the distance you were at, you could tell that he was handsome. His blue eyes contrasted nicely with his dark hair that was cut short with just the slightest hint of waviness. He tilted his head sideways at you, like he was trying to see something, and then the weirdest of noises escaped his lips, a strangled gasp that startled you even more. “Ale- who are you?”

You turned your head behind you, thinking that his slightly horrified question couldn’t have been directed towards you. “Do you see something?” 

“Who are you?” He repeated, his voice slightly choked yet as sharp as a blade. His horse trotted closer without him even speaking a command. He stopped a few paces in front of you, and you looked up at him directly for the first time and nearly cried. He was huge. And he looked like he could crush you.

  “I- wait, who are you?” If there was one thing the orphanage taught you, it was to not talk to men you didn’t know. It was a way to get hurt or murdered. Everyone knew that. Not even men on horses who could pass for rich knights could be trusted. 

It took a few moments of mutual staring for him to even think about saying anything. “I’m James,” he answered cautiously, like you were the one to be wary of. “And you are?” 

You kept your grimace to yourself. You had two choices; to be friendly with this man and hope that he gave you a bit of shelter for the night without anything in return, or to be rude and possibly save your life, or ruin it all the same. You were leaning towards the first choice. 

It took you a moment to clear the cobwebs of thought from your mind and come up with an answer. When you did, it seemed like he was hanging on edge for your response, like it would make a few things in his life miraculously make sense. “I’m Y/N.” 

 He gave you a look. It was long, curious, and doubting. You thought for a second that he was surely seeing through you, seeing a version of you that you weren’t aware of. He breathed in through his nose, looking you up and down. “How old are you?”

You frowned at the question automatically. “You know, it’s not polite to ask a woman her age.” 

 You could have sworn that his lips tilted upwards before he schooled his features. “Are you camping?” 

“I-”  were you to tell him that you were utterly helpless? Was that the smartest thing to tell a man so big and obviously strong? You wouldn’t stand a chance if he decided to be your worst nightmare, not at all. But something in you knew that he wasn’t anything like that. Something knew. “I’m kind of lost.” 

“Where are you trying to go?”

“I’m trying to find the village, where there’s an opening for a seamstress.” 

  His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “You’re a seamstress?” 

“I’m trying to be.”

“Have you learned?” He asked, and you looked towards your freezing feet. 

 You should have expected that question. If not from a stranger in the woods, than from a possible employer. You sighed. “No, I never learned. No one taught me.” 

“Then how do you plan on becoming a seamstress?” 

You looked up at him for a second, trying to keep your teeth from chattering as you decided to shed your bag and put it on the ground, opening it up to reveal some shirts and pants that you had made on your own. “I made these myself.” He made a noise. 

 “I thought you said you never learned?” 

“I didn’t,” you said softly, the warmth of the clothes feeling good in your hand. “I never did learn, I just did it one day. And it’s been what I do ever since.” 

 He was still giving you that look, like he was expecting something more, or like you were some type of ghost or hallucination. The staring match took a while, and you were starting to feel the numbness of your ankle wear off. “My friend and I are in need of someone who’s good with a needle.” 

 That wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear, unless he and his friend owned a sewing shop. Judging by his appearance, it was unlikely that he did. “I should be finding town.” 

“The nearest town is about thirty leagues, and there are no openings for seamstresses—or  any job really—there.” He said. “I can take you to the nearest town, my pal is waiting there for me.” 

 You were thinking far too hard for such an easy question. Thirty leagues was too far for you to clear by yourself before nightfall, and if night fell on you, you were as good as dead. You tried to think about it, but you knew your answer. You were done if you didn’t get on that horse. “I… okay. I think I’ll have to take you up on that, James.” 

  “Do you need help getting on the horse?” He asked, and though you had never even been on a horse before, you shook your head. You weren’t going to let the man grab on your waist and hoist you up. You would fall ten times before that happened, because that was far more embarrassing. 

  “No, thanks.” You were scared. You had never seen a horse so close before, and they were much bigger than you expected. Horses were for the rich, and that was partly why you were riding with this man. If he was needing someone who could sew and had a horse, he would pay you well for something that you enjoyed. It seemed good, in theory. 

You took in a deep breath as you threw yourself up there, expecting fully to slip and land right on your butt, but you didn’t. And he didn’t help you, either. In a movement as fluid as water, you were on the horse, in the exact position that you were supposed to be in. You frowned at yourself, looking down at your legs in muted surprise. 

“I’m shocked you made it,” you heard him rumble, and you nodded. “Most people who ride for the first time can’t do that.” 

You added that to your memory bank, another clue to the screwed up mystery you were playing around with. You watched your sigh come out of your mouth, your breath coming out in smoke because of the cold. “Guess I’ve ridden before.”

*****

this isn’t what i usually write, but man, was this fun. i hope you guys liked this little part! come back if you want, and you’ll meet steve!! i hope you guys liked it, thank you so much for reading this far, y’all have my heart fr

[1dcraftawards]

November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic ! 

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things.  I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly,  I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

[southsidestory]

I generally try to stay out of discourse, but I have to chime in on this one.

@birkastan2018 is getting dragged for suggesting the most preposterous thing: that more readers should comment instead of being silent consumers. The fact that this is actually controversial is blowing my mind. 

I’ve been writing fic for many years, but only posting regularly since about 2014. I jumped into Naruto fandom just a few months before the manga ended with a (then) canon-compliant longfic. In Times of Peace got WAY more feedback than I ever expected it to, and I was absolutely thrilled.

Because you see, in 2011 I posted a SasuSaku drabble, my first ever fic posted to fanfiction.net! I was so excited to share it… and it got one review. ONE. Now, I realize a 600 word drabble isn’t exactly gonna attract a lot of traffic, and I knew that then too, but it was still horribly discouraging. I figured my writing style must not be a very good fit for the fandom, that no one wanted to read it. I gave up, and went back to working on original projects. I want to be clear, I didn’t stop writing because of my one-review story. I kept writing, both on fanfic and original work, but I stopped posting. 

Eventually I came back, obviously, and the success of ITOP bolstered my confidence. Not everyone was leaving me novel-length, glowing reviews. Many were very short, just a simple “thanks!” or “this was good” and let me tell you, that was so, so much better than nothing. Some were also negative or even cruel, which sucked, but the good comments made up for those. If the first few chapters of ITOP hadn’t gotten at least some response, I might not have finished the story. And if I hadn’t finished ITOP, I probably wouldn’t have continued writing Naruto fic. Well, I would have written it, because when I have a story to tell there’s no stopping me, but I wouldn’t have shared it. (The number of WIPs sitting on my Google Drive gathering dust, unposted, even today, is ridiculous.)

Now, on to the point.

I used to think that asking for feedback made me look desperate. That wanting it made me weak. Because there’s this narrative surrounding writing that says, “You should write for yourself. Writing for others is disingenuous, and it means you’re not dedicated to your craft for the sake of your craft, which is the only reason you should write.” I used to believe that, and to some degree there’s value in that sentiment. If you write purely for feedback, then you might stop when you don’t get it, and that’s horrible, because anyone who wants to write should write.

But mostly, that narrative is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. Writing and reading don’t exist in separate spheres. They’re part of a conversation, and when no one gives you feedback, it’s like the author is talking to a wall. Storytelling by its very nature is a communal activity. My strong, sincere belief in this is also why I’m a huge proponent of Death of the Author. What I think my story means isn’t any more important than what my readers think it means. Neither is the One True Meaning. Because stories are multi-faceted, and part of what gives them value is the conversations we have around them.

This is something I especially love about fanfiction. Transformative works build on one another, and fanfic writers learn together, write together, give each other prompts, beta for each other, comment on each other’s work, etc. There are so many stories I never would have told without engaging in fandom, especially with other writers. And isn’t that the whole point of fanfiction? To take a known story and create something new, to jump into the middle of a fictional conversation and say what comes next?

Stories are communicative. We share them, and we talk about them, and the things writers hear from our readers help shape the stories we tell next.

Something a lot of writers feel but don’t often talk about is how lonely a process this is. Yes, I love writing for its own sake. Putting together words and taking them apart, losing myself in my stories. It’s fun, it’s difficult, it’s challenging, it’s thrilling. But it’s also very, very isolating when you have no one to share your stories with. Or worse, you share them only to be met with silence.

I don’t expect all readers to comment on every single fic they click on. I read a lot of fanfic, and I certainly don’t do that. But when something truly moves me, I tell the writer why. When something is just a lot of fun and it brightened my day, I usually tell the writer that too. Some days I don’t have the energy for it, but I try. And let me tell you, the hits to comments ratio on my fics paints a very obvious picture: the vast majority of people are not trying. Hell, even the hits to kudos ratio on Ao3 shows that, and kudos take one second and zero effort to leave.

Fanfiction writers aren’t getting paid for this. We put our blood, sweat, tears, and time into writing for a mostly silent audience. Those of you who do speak up matter more than I can possibly express.

The main reason I’ve returned to writing The Valley of the End after such a long hiatus, apart from just wanting to finish it, is because of the outflow of support it has received over the years. Even without new chapters being posted, people kept leaving me encouraging reviews. It made me feel like TVOTE was a story worth telling, worth hanging onto. When I finally felt the urge to dive back into Naruto fandom, that fic was the first thing I revisited, in part because I knew it was the one people were waiting for.

And you know whose kind, thoughtful feedback on my Naruto fics made me really miss writing SasuSaku? You guessed it: birkastan2018. I likely wouldn’t be back if not for her.

So if you read a fic, and you enjoyed it, and you have thirty seconds to type “Thanks for sharing this story, I really liked it!” please do so. It means more to most writers than we can say. And who knows, your little comment might be the thing that makes a difference in an author leaving and staying in a fandom.

[dreadnought-dear-captain]

Update and a few asks

Hi everyone!

I’ve FINALLY posted an annotated bibliography for Baghdad Waltz. Thanks to those of you who requested and encouraged me to do it. It’s not entirely comprehensive, but I tried to pick the works that were most influential and probably the most helpful for everyone. 

I’m still very steadily cranking away on my newest fic How You Leave, and it’s completely strange to be writing ahead of my posting schedule (though I suppose that’s what happens when you don’t write 32k word chapters). This fic is HARD. But I’m very glad I’m writing it, and I’m so happy to have a small but mighty cohort of readers who are trusting me to take them on this journey. 

So, because How You Leave has been so difficult, I decided to accept an April Fool’s Day challenge from @licketysplittt​, who sent me the picture below and dared me to write a Stucky story based on it:

Needless to say, writing a “fun” one-shot is something of a foreign concept to me, but challenge accepted! The Premise: Yuppie liberal Steve Rogers moves to Daytona Beach, FL from NYC and decides to buy a gun from die-hard libertarian Army vet Bucky Barnes. Shenanigans ensue. Stay tuned!

Now some asks:

Thank you so much for the very kind words. I’ve been flat out horrible about working through BW comments, though I’m trying to get to a few every week (mostly because I’m blessed with so may long, beautiful comments that I want to answer thoughtfully, which does take time). I miss BW Bucky and Steve very much, and I’m so glad when people feel similarly attached to them. I’m also happy that it was a powerful emotional experience for you. I’m still not sure if I’ve fully recovered, lol [sob] 

It’s funny you say this, because one of the reasons I’ve had such a hard time coming back to the annotated bibliography is that there’s a visceral *UGH* I feel whenever I see anything about BW. I think diving into a new story so fast was my way of avoiding some of the emotional processing I needed to do (fortunately, there’s plenty of space there for me to feel sads). Because yes, BW is sad. But I’m happy that the story and the ending felt realistic to you. I also like the idea that they do the work they need to do to heal, not only from their trauma/grief but also from the damage this relationship has caused them. I think of it as a reset button, a process that could allow them to come back together in another way at another time and be really damn good with each other, whatever form their relationship takes. I’m just such a fundamental optimist that I can’t really see it cynically. I don’t even know how these people would not be in each other’s lives, somehow. Some way. Thank you so much for the kind words!

Thanks for asking these!

You mean a straight-up happy ending, like ride off into the uncomplicated sunset happy? I’ll never say never, but probably not. Those aren’t the stories I like to read, and they’re not the ones I want to tell. I just can’t do it, because I can’t buy into it. I appreciate an ending that has happy elements and some undertones of loss or uncertainty, which is so much more consistent with real life. I think this is based on the fact that I come to fandom not for escapism but for raw and honest storytelling. This means that I’m more often than not barking up the wrong tree, because so many people come to fandom because life is a little too raw and honest and they want a place with the endings people don’t get often in the real world. I totally respect that and think fandom is a great place for this. But to illustrate this difference, one of my most aversive fic experiences would be to read something that’s high angst, high stakes, high emotion and then... they get married and live happily ever after. I know a lot of people are the exact opposite! But fortunately, there is literally something for everyone in a fandom as vast as Stucky.

As for publishing BW, yeah, after I finish How You Leave, I’m going to start pivoting seriously to original work in traditional publishing. So I’m not sure how much more time I’ll have to devote to fandom writing after that, though I imagine I may push out one-shots or brief multi-part fics if there’s something I’m just dying to do. The problem is that, in order to publish something like BW, I need higher word count than any agent or publisher would give to a first time writer. So I need to try to get something shorter published so that I can establish a track record of marketability, which may increase my chances of publishing BW in a form I’d be pleased with. These are all wildly improbable things, so I’m pushing forward with few expectations that’ll I succeed in getting anything published. At least I like my day job lol! But I did say I was an optimist, so I’m going to give it my best shot. 

For those of you following How You Leave, I’ll have another chapter out today or tomorrow. I hope you’re all doing well!

[pulledpurplecurtains]

all the odd ones for the fic questions pls and thank you pepster

all the odd ones, meaning 1, 3 etc right? oh BOY are we gonna be here for a while (and i love it 🥰)

it’s morning right now so let’s see how long throughout the day this is gonna take me sdfghjk let’s do it!!

1) what was the first fandom you got involved in?

hmmmm. i wanna say harry potter, more than a decade ago? specifically dramione and scorose

3) what is the best fandom you’ve been involved in?

for all that it has given me i have to say bechloe

5) which fandoms have you written fanfiction for?

so far just for bechloe

7) list your NoTPs from each fandom you’ve been in

i’m only gonna list pairs i have strong feelings against and from only the fandoms i’ve been most involved in

harry potter: snape and hermione

frozen: elsa and hans (no but for real. why)

pitch perfect: beca and jessie, chloe and chicago

marvel: hm hm surprisingly nothing comes to mind

the haunting of bly manor: same as for marvel

9) what are the best things about your current fandom?

having a space where i can fully be myself, expressing myself freely through my writing, meeting so many wonderful people, having a previously unexplored side of myself revealed to me, finding and delving into characters that make me feel less alone, and so much more. it’s been a real blessing, having this fandom in my life

11) who is your current OTP?

bechloe

(this was the point where tumblr lost me ALL MY ANSWERS FROM QUESTIONS 13 TO 33 so let’s do this again SHALL WE??? i’ll be saving each answer as we go dear god)

13) any NoTPs?

already answered!

15) is there an obscure ship which you love?

hmm i don’t think so? none that comes to mind at least

17) who was your first OTP and are they still your favorite?

my first OTP, before i even knew what an OTP was, was scorpius and rose from harry potter. it’s not still on top of my OTP list, but always has a special place in my heart

19) is there a ship which you wished you could get behind, but you just don’t feel them?

not really? i mean, there are popular ships that i don’t support, like hermione with bellatrix or natasha with wanda for example. i can see their appeal and i get why people like them. they’re just not for me and i’m okay with that

21) what was the first fanfic you ever wrote?

ah my accidental multi chap baby sdfghjkdfg

All is Fair in Love and War was posted as an one shot, and that was all it was supposed to be. it was my first finished written piece. and then a couple of people in the comments were really nice abt sharing thoughts of where the story could go next and what they’d like to see happen, and they were very enthusiastic abt wanting to see more of that story. so the second chapter was born

sooo one thing led to the other and before i knew it that fic had become an 8 chapter, over 60k words story sdfghjkdf i’m amused and grateful to this day

23) name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of and explain why you like it

how can you ask a mother to pick her favorite of her kids HUH

no but for real, i love all of my stories equally. i’m a perfectionist, so nothing gets posted before it’s perfect in my eyes. plus, all my stories are my babies. each has its flaws and imperfections, each in their own ways. but they’re all beautiful and meaningful to me

what i will say is, i have a particular soft spot for (wondering if you knew) i was enchanted to meet you. i truly think my writing peaked in that story, in all the parallels and tiny but very important things that are in there

25) what’s your most popular fanfic?

based on views and kudos, it’s All is fair in Love and War

ofc that’s a multi chap, so maybe the numbers aren’t exactly equivalent to popularity

my most popular one shot, by a very large margin at that, is (i’ll let you in) and baby, that’s when

27) what do you hate more: coming up with titles or writing summaries?

i honestly love coming up with titles

writing summaries, on the other hand, is the bane of my existence

29) do you have a beta reader? why/why not?

i don’t, and it’s bc i’m literally incapable of taking any kind of critique over anything unfinished. once it’s posted and out in the world it’s fair game; but until then? that’s a big no for me

31) what’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about your writing?

i honestly can’t answer this question bc every comment is so so special and important to me. i often go back and read them all. even right now while writing this there are so many different comments swirling around in my head. i appreciate and am grateful for all the kind words always 💜

33) do you write one shots, multi chapters, or huge epics?

sdfghjkk definitely not huge epics

i’ve written both of the other two. in the beginning i preferred and wanted to write multi chapters. however nowadays and for the past year or so, i lean more heavily towards one shots

35) do you write drabbles? if so, what do you normally write them about?

i am physically and mentally incapable of writing short things sdfghjkd so no, i don’t write drabbles

37) first person or third person? what do you write in and why?

always third person. idk the idea of first person narration always seemed weird to me. plus, i see my stories as me retelling the events the characters have confided in me. so third person makes sense and it’s also why i use past tense in my stories

39) what is your greatest strength as a writer?

describing and narrating emotions and using metaphors

41) list and link to five fanfics you’re currently reading

my reader’s block has been going strong, so i’m not reading anything currently unfortunately

43) is there anyone in your fandom who really inspires you?

my squirrels 💜

45) what is your all time favorite fanfic?

i have to say Experimentation i just have to

i also love Perdition, what an incredible piece of writing

47) ao3, ff.net or tumblr - where do you prefer to post and why?

definitely ao3, i just love its interface i guess?

49) do you care if people comment on/ reblog your writing? why/why not?

okay so here’s the deal. ofc i care. every artist who shares their work, every creator, cares; at least to a degree. it’s why we share. we want people to see and love and appreciate our work, we want it recognised and celebrated even. we want people to engage with it, show it to their friends, talk abt it, have thoughts abt it. it’s only natural and ofc i’m absolutely no exception

with that said. i’ve always tried to remind myself that kudos/likes are also engagement. that even just reading is engagement. that everyone’s limit or ability for engagement isn’t the same, and that ultimately it’s their choice how or if they’ll engage with my writing. i try to, and i do, value everyone who even just reads my stories. i share something with the world for free and it’s my choice to do and continue to do so. what happens after that isn’t up to me

so yes i do care a lot abt reblogs and comments. they make me very happy, they validate and encourage me. but people have no obligation, in my eyes at least, to engage with my works a specific way. just like i have no specific obligation to provide a certain type of content on set periods of time or with a set limit of words or to continue to provide stories; or literally any other obligation. no one can police my actions and choices up until i’ve posted a story and i can’t police anyone’s actions or choices after i’ve posted it. and that’s the beauty of fandom for me - we’re all here bc we want to and bc it makes us happy, with no expectations or obligations

ending this with an essay seems only suitable sdfghjkd thank you my egg for giving me the opportunity to talk abt myself in such length 😌💜

[kneesntoess]

AO3 Year in Review 

This year, despite being awful in so many ways, has been the first time I’ve been able to write and enjoy writing in half a decade. I can’t thank TMA in general and the Writer’s Discord specifically enough for the inspiration and the cheerleads and the help. 

Format taken from @athina-blaine

Top Fandom: The Magnus Archives (5 fics)

First Fic Posted: January 24th, loves sweet sounds (570 words)

Top Multi-Chapter Fic: None, technically, although I wrote the majority of RQBB intending for there to be chapters, but in the end it didn’t work out. 

Top One-Shot: the sea and it’s waters, every unwanted daughter, (4764 words)  little fic means the world to me, and I’m so glad that other people felt it resounded with them, especially when it’s main character and POV is an original character 

Fic You’re Most Proud Of: weave the dull world around us, (25,122 words). Written for this years RQBB, and my first ever large scale fandom event. I almost but the sea and it’s waters here again, and I think it’s my most technically accomplished and polished work, but I am most proud of RQBB because there were several times I thought I would never finish it and it is, officially, the longest thing I have ever written. And I think I pulled off a lot of the intended elements really well. 

Fic You Wish Got More Attention: I honestly don’t know! Everything I wrote this year got far more attention than I would have ever imagined. I will say that posting as part of an event as big as RQBB was a little disheartening at first, since there was just so much content for people to get through. But since then weave the dull world around us has become, like, my third most popular fic of all time and I can’t really complain about that 

Fic That Challenged You The Most: I’m beginning to sense a theme here... every sea and weave the dull world were equally challenging in different ways. every sea was my first real exercise in trying to maintain a consistent themeing and visual language, in making Sarah believable and likeable, and in translating TMA into an outsider POV. While also working with some heavy and deeply personal experiences. I ended up with a dozen revisions of every part and at least three complete structural rewrites, and the only reason I didn’t do more was the imminent premier of S5. weave the dull world, on the other hand, was a challenge of scale, motivation and deadlines. As well as working out the best way to incorporate all the research I had done. And then keeping it all (mostly) secret until reveals

Favourite Quote/Passage: from every sea and its waters, every unwanted daughter 

(cw for brief mentions of murder, violence against women, the witch trials, hanging, child loss, blood and injury) 

If sufficiently bribed with attention and top-shelf alcohol, Bry would tell stories about howling on the wind on full moons; blood spots in the fields and drag marks on the path, mutilated lambs. Her peers told stories about tormented screaming, dark shapes silhouetted against the curtains, and that Billy Young had dared to touch the door on Halloween night and been brutally murdered for the trouble, that the pretty climbing roses grew so red from between his ribs.

But there were older stories, too, older than red roses and police sirens and school yard dares. Lonely lost women in white, searching always for something precious they had lost. Crooked old hags, cursed into hideousness and banished, condemned to eat frogs and lizards and children’s hearts. A neat line of six souls, bags over their heads, swinging. Buried where they fell, discarded on unconsecrated ground, to salt the soil with blood and venom and rot, until all who lived in the house built there turned black and putrid, too. It was not the blood of boys that fed the red, red roses and turned their thorns so sharp.  

It was always women, in the older tales. Lost women, lonely women, strange women. Who spoke too much or not enough, who could do things other people couldn’t, who did things other people couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t.  Who dared to love something beyond the confines of the village, beyond the limits of their own hearts

It’s not scary, the cottage. It’s sad .

Total Word Count: 32,762

I can’t believe I wrote that much. I had to check the math a couple of times to be sure, but I did that! I couldn’t have done it without a boatload of support from everyone at the Writer’s Discord and for some really lovely friends who’ve listened to me wail about it all. A special thank you has to go to @evanescentjasmine for their help, encouragement and company. 

Happy 2021, y’all! 

[callioope]

Author Interview

tagged by @theputterer -- thank you :) 

Name: Liz

Fandoms: In terms of posted fics, mainly Rogue One and Star Wars (OT). I have at least one fic posted in A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones, Community, and Howl’s Moving Castle (book). But I also like The Clone Wars and Rebels. I’ve been reading mainly ATLA fic for the past couple weeks. 

Where you post: AO3 and sometimes here on tumblr. There are a few drabbles I’ve posted on tumblr that I really ought to crosspost on AO3 for posterity. 

Most popular one-shot: “In Which Sophie is Late, and Howl Noses Around in Her Business” (Howl’s Moving Castle) With 698 kudos. Uh. Wow. I was not expecting that! It’s literally my only HMC fic (although I do technically have other unfinished drafts) and it’s not even a year old, and surpassed my second most popular one-shot which was posted in 2015. Pregnancy trope is popular I guess. It is amusing to me that my most popular one-shot is not in my favorite OTP fandom (rebelcaptain). Howl’s Moving Castle ended up having a wider audience than I anticipated. 

Also as a disclaimer, but popularity is weird to gauge because do you go by hits or kudos or comments? I went with kudos because hits could count people who clicked on my story and then didn’t like it. But it’s hard because hits also include re-reads, so, idk. 

Most popular multi-chapter fic: “The Last Stark” (A Song of Ice and Fire) 815 kudos. This was finished in 2013 so it’s had plenty of time to accumulate the kudos. It’s a Gendrya Anastasia AU (“Aryastasia” was my working title for this one lol). So again, popular trope, in a popular fandom, in a popular ship. This fic is so old when I reread it, I usually find myself wanting to edit it, especially the ending. I was so ready to be done writing this that I think I rushed the ending. Oh well, writing plots is really difficult!

Fic you were nervous to post: Every fic? lol. I’m never not nervous to post a fic. But I’m definitely more nervous posting in a fandom for the first time. So posting “Whatever I Do (I Do It To Protect You)” (Rogue One, rebelcaptain) was pretty nervewracking, especially since it’d been awhile since I posted anything. [OOOH, fun fact, but WID celebrated it’s 4 year anniversary yesterday! Ha, that’s funny.] I was working on this fic for weeks before I posted it. 

I was also super nervous to post my Jeff/Annie Community soulmate AU, “Intro to Neurochemical Compatibility” because (a) first time posting in that fandom, (b) I decided to use script format which I know is not everyone’s jam, and (c) the premise is just so ridiculous! But I had fun with it. 

Also gift exchanges are always nerve-wracking because I worry the giftee won’t like it. My giftee never responded to my 2020 rebelcaptain secret santa fic so I’m actually constantly worrying that they didn’t like it and feeling bad that I failed them. :/ 

How you choose your titles: with so much agonizing. gosh it’s so hard and honestly i have so many titles that i hate. I’ve got a couple song lyric titles. a couple quotes. a couple “how to...” apparently that was a whole phase I went through. Either the titles come to me immediately, or I put off choosing a title until the absolutely moment I need to post it, and then spend hours agonizing over a quote/song lyric/phrase that fits and probably begging others for help.

Do you outline: YES. Possibly overly so. I’ve ran into issues in the past, when I was much younger, where I didn’t resolve problems proposed early in the story. So I need to know where the story is going in order to lay the proper groundwork. Also, if I do not write things down I forget them five minutes later. I also think outlining is a useful trick to jumpstart writing, so if the muse just isn’t present, I’ll try to lure her out by outlining. 

Complete: 19 fics. 

In progress: Oh boy this is so hard to count. As far as what’s posted? Technically only one: “How to Lose a Spy in 10 Days” (Rogue One, rebelcaptain). Despite the fact that I think the deadline was extended multiple time, I procrastinated and ended up rushing chapter one to meet the rebelcaptain rom-com challenge deadline. Didn’t really have a proper outline for this one, even though I knew vaguely what I wanted it to be about. I wrote chapter two but I hated what I wrote so I ... I kinda abandoned it. I mean technically, I never consider a work abandoned, I always intend to get back to it. Some day when I have the inspiration I will. But this idea ended up being a challenge I didn’t feel ready for at the time, and then my interest moved on to other ideas.

I also had a longer story planned for “you must become an island (the horizon is all we have)” but only posted one part of it to finish it on time. Ideally this fic would be part of a series, but again, motivation is needed so we’ll see

Technically I have 22 rebelcaptain ideas alone (including some listed in this post) at various states of completed, plus a handful of Community and HMC ideas. Of the ones I’m most interested in, there’s probably about 14 that I really hope to finish and post some day. 

ETA: omg i totally forgot that i was idly considering trying to finish my rebelcaptain soulmate AU in time for Valentine’s Day, but at this point I haven’t had any motivation to write so I don’t think that’s gonna happen. that fic has been sitting in my drafts since 2018 and in my drafts it will continue to sit.

Coming soon: “soon” is relative but these are currently the ones I’ve focused the most on recently:

Fencing AU (rebelcaptain)

You’ve Got Mail AU (rebelcaptain)

Post-War Fic with @allatariel (rebelcaptain, plus a LOT of other ships, includes Rebels characters, OT characters, and... maybe some others :) )

Palm Springs/time loop AU (Jeff/Annie)

Do you accept prompts: Wellllll here’s the thing. When I’ve asked for prompts, I haven’t been the best at fulfilling them in a timely manner. For that reason, I don’t encourage prompts but I’m not opposed to them. (I suppose technically exchange fics are prompts, and I wrote a bunch of fics in 2017 for rebelcaptainprompts, but I’m not gonna count those because I don’t think that’s what the question here is really going for)

“The Climb (A Lie, A Hero)” (Rogue One, rebelcaptain) was actually a prompt. 

I solicited prompts for my birthday in 2019, which I didn’t end up fulfilling until exactly one year later. 

Technically the You’ve Got Mail AU is a prompt, someone prompted me to write a fic for my favorite go-to comfort movie.

And, uh, the certain someone who tagged me for this meme prompted me in a comment back in October 2017 to do a Luke and Leia swap where Leia grows up on Tatooine, so that is sitting in my WIP list. 

Yeah, this is why I don’t solicit or encourage prompts. The return rate is just not fair for the prompter. 

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: this fluctuates on any given day. the fencing AU is so close to being done (well the first draft anyways) so i really really want to just finish it! But yeah it’d be anything on the coming soon list above.

tagging: @allatariel, @cats-and-metersticks, @lothcatlovesysalamiri, @veritascara, @brynnmclean and anyone who sees this and wants to do it! also ofc per usual no pressure if u don’t want to.