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zialltops · 5 months

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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

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You chance a glance over at the outlaw in the driver's seat while he scans his surroundings like he’s done this before, the rear view mirror and the road ahead never leaving his sight. “What if they catch up to us? I don’t want to get arrested, Joel!”

a/n: howdy folks! I’m pulling my head out of my ass and getting back into writing. These last few weeks have been leveling put for me and I’ve been feeling a lot better compared to how my life HAS been. These two were the perfect break even though this took my two whole months for only a few thousand words. I’ll be back sooner than last time with an update, but you’ll see me before then for another wip. Much love, hayhay 🤍

Chapter 8: What Was I Thinkin?

Three hours ago, if you asked Joel how the night would come to its end, he’d tell you he’d probably be in the cabin, laying in his cold bed, staring up at his ceiling fan, alone—with his right hand working his dick to the tune of the farmer’s daughter. In fact, three hours ago, he’d told Tommy something similar.

“Joel, man—I promise It looks fine.”

He adjusts the buttons on his shirt another time, stuck between leaving one undone and letting the opening linger down his chest. “Fine ain’t gonna cover it, Tom—ain’t no way in hell I’m walkin’ up to her lookin jus’ fine.” Tommy huffs from behind him and starts to go through the closet beside Joel while he stares at himself in the body length mirror behind the door.

“What about this one?” Tommy beams, He’s holding up a black shirt on a hanger, slight dust on the shoulders from it’s lack of use. He’s half surprised the moths haven’t gotten to it yet. Its buttons are made of iridescent pearls that snap in place, labyrinthian embroidery adorning the breast pockets. “Ain’t worn it since before the accident.” He lifts one of the sleeves in his hands, lingering on the fitted cuff.

His mind takes him back to half forgotten nights under neon lights, long neck bottles and ropers calluses on his rodeo-worn hands. To money wasted on buckle bunnies and broncs, to years taken off his life under the sharp hooves of a one ton animal—years he’ll never get back. Years he wishes he’d never taken for granted.

He was a more confident man then, not cocky—but proud of his abilities in the arena, proud enough to walk tall, speak surly. He was a master in his sport because he trained religiously, fully immersed in the idea that this was his only shot at making it. He still believes that, even now. He wishes you could have met him then, when he was that Joel—Rodeo buckles and spurs, cowboy hats and stadium lights. When he was a white straw hat and chaps, an unsullied grin with a thirst for adrenaline and belt buckles.

He holds the black cotton between his well worked fingers and longs to be that man again—if only for one night. Would you like him? A cowboy in his prime with worked muscles, before his beer belly and the softness in his chest really set in? “This one’s good,” he huffs, brushing the dust off the shoulders before unbuttoning it enough to remove it from the hanger. “Lemme help you.” His brother offers. Joel’s not naive, he knows the fear is visible atop the surface of his flushed skin, in the deepened frown lines and the shake in his hands.

Tommy is a lot of things, but once in a while he softens around his selfish edges and he bends a little, reaching out for the weeping limbs of his brother, struggling with all his might to keep himself standing up straight in the storm, a resilient and irrepressible figure to look up to. Tommy sees the way the longing shines through the perforations in his irises, the way his shoulders slump with oppressive burden—and he takes pity on the older man. “I’ll wash it real quick while you shower. It’ll be good as new, fresh outta the dryer by the time you're done.” He looks up at Joel, who’s still transfixed in the forgotten token of his former youth, of the man who he used to be. Items he’d left in storage down in Austin that Hank had so graciously shipped to Jackson.

He almost wishes he’d never gotten it all back, it was easier then—to hide from who he was when he wasn’t reminded of his past every single day, but once in a while—that reckless, spotlight chasing cowboy grasps for the surface. And tonight? Tonight is your birthday, the town dance, where you’re going to be, probably looking like something Joel doesn’t have a shot in hell with. It’s your damn birthday and he wants to ask you to dance but he’s not sure the fee quick dance lessons he got will suffice. What if he stumbles? Steps on your pretty little feet? Drops you?

“Joel—“ there's a snap in front of his face and he pulls himself out of the chaos inside of his mind. “Man, you are loosin’ it. I’ve never seen you this wound up over some girl—“ his eyes snap up to his brothers and he huffs lowly. “She ain’t just—some girl. She’s Hank and Lou’s daughter, people I think of as family. She’s smart and resourceful, sometimes a little reckless but she makes me feel like…like I’m alive for once.” Tommy sets the black shirt down and sit on the side of Joel's bed. Beside him, Joel's weight sinks onto the mattress. “M’gettin’ old, Tom. I don’t have a lot of good years left in me and I don’t know if I’ll ever have a opportunity like this again.”

Tommy takes a glance over at the distant look in his brothers eyes. “Opportunity?” Joel's eyes flick over and he sighs. He wishes Tommy had a little bit of what he had built inside of him, the innate goal of settling down, finding where he belongs and who he belongs with.

“At bein’ happy. Good memories for my restless nights.” If he fucked this up and missed his chance, he’s not sure he’ll have it in him again, if it will ever feel like this with anyone else. He thinks he’s done, thinks you’re it. He thinks he could give you forever if you’d let him.

“S’that why you’re so messed up in the head? What, do you think she’s going to shoot you down?” Tommy’s voice picks up in pitch, offense used like a weapon to get his point across and Joel appreciates the gusto. “Think I’m gonna go home alone tonight. Think it’s just gonna be me and the crickets and this damn hand again, dreamin’ bout how damn sweet she is.”

Tommy’s hand reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and he retrieves a silver flask, offering it to his older brother who takes it with unsure fingers. “Just be yourself, man. Walk up to her like you belong there. Just need a little bit of confidence, don’t let her think you’re second guessing yourself. I don’t know her like you do—but I know that girl is more than willing when it comes to you.”

Joel takes a long swig of rot-gut whiskey, lets is sink into his bones and find the will to drag himself into the shower and wash away the saw dust lingering on his skin from the floor of the dance hall, ease some of the soreness in his knees and back from learning how to dance.

When he’s finished, there's a clean shirt and a flask laying on his bed. Joel finishes off the whiskey before he fastens the first button.

Liquid courage is the only thing that gets him to town.

He’s everywhere—everywhere. His hands burn on your thigh, on your hip where they dig in just a little too roughly when he pins you to the wall beside the back door. The second it closed behind you, there was a desperation clinging to the early spring air, perforating the slight chill until it shimmied beneath it and took life in the form of heat dripping across your exposed flesh. It was sticky and hot, sucking you in like a vortex straight to the center of what your world revolved around—Joel Miller and his touch that feels like fire.

He tastes like alcohol and tooth paste and part of you wonders if that’s what's changed about him, why he was so willing to let go of his reservations in-front of half of the town. He’s been drinking, drowning his insecurities enough to throw himself at you bravely.

Will he still be this Joel when you open your eyes in the morning? Will he regret it?

His teeth dig into your bottom lip and your brain goes fuzzy, stars forming behind your closed eyes. Insecurities can wait until tomorrow, you decide. His hips press forward ever so slightly and the outline of his cock can’t go unnoticed, not with the way it makes the fabric of your panties drag against your clit tantalizingly. Behind your closed eyes, the stars morph into crackles of fireworks, filling your senses with bright pleasure and desperate desire to chase those lights into the night.

You hike your legs higher, trying to drag him into the delicious delirium with you. The movement pulls a guttural groan out of the broad cowboy. “Joel—Joel,” you need his hands to leave brands on your skin where they’ve touched you, setting fire to your soul. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” Is he crumbling like you, throwing himself into this very moment right here? Is he as desperate as you are? Does it feel like a travesty and a triumph? The yearning you’ve endured, for the victory of finally knowing what he feels like when he kisses the breath from your lungs.

It’s more than you know how to articulate—more devastating than you anticipated and yet—it’s still not enough. It won't be enough until his heart beats in time with your own and you feel him wrapped up in your body

His teeth dig into your jaw and your body reacts before you tell it to, searching for the release only he can bring you.

“Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

And suddenly, in the time it takes to flip on a light switch, he’s gluttonous, insatiable and voracious—a wild predator set loose just to turn on its careful handler. The only thing that comes to mind, in comparison, is a pack of wolves frenzied to sink their teeth into the supple flesh of their prey.

In your case—Joel is the starved pack—and you? You are but an unsuspecting doe, practically sacrificing yourself to his uncontrollable famine.

Those thick digits, adorned with callouses earned from laborious work, hastily push aside the fabric of your dress in search of your covered center. He feels so fucking good when those digits push their way past the hem of your panties and he gasps against the shell of your ear. Like it feels just as good to him, letting the pads of his index and middle finger tease the seam of your lips before slipping between and dragging those rough digits over your hardened clit. It’s all the built up want, longing, needing that makes him feel so other-worldly, you’ll never experience something like this, the rush of relief to finally be his.

His fingers dip lower, searching for the source of all this slick adorning his knuckles, when his thumb drags idly over your already sensitive clit. Its like an electric shock straight to your sternum, arching you forward in search of anchorage to this reality altering interaction. There's a hint of alcohol swimming behind your fluttering eyelids, but his shuddering groan is sickeningly sobering. You want to say something, tell him how good he makes you feel, but the words bubble up in your chest and hang in your throat in the form of a silent sob, your mouth hanging open and your toes curling against your shoes.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” Where the hell has this Joel been hiding? He’s never been so vulgar, so vocal and confident in himself. His fingers tease the soft ring at your opening, smearing slick around on his fingers when he leans against your front to press his face against your heaving chest and neck. His fingers plunge in—and your body jerks against his solid form. He lets you shudder and tighten up against him while his thumb moves steadily, never coming off the peak of your nerve—locked on it with such perfected percussion that there is no jerky catch, just steady—drowning pleasure. His rough pant of breath paints your shoulder in sticky warmth and your thighs tighten around him, begging to draw him into your desperation.

“She’s just cryin’ for me, ain’t she, Honey?” His drawl sounds like sweet tea on a hot summer afternoon, like your sight set on the Austin sunset from the seat of an old saddle, driving cattle through tall grass and endless horizons.

Being touched by Joel Miller feels like coming home.

He finds a steady pace, working his fingers in and out, each drag punctuated by the ridges of his knuckles and the rough pads of his finger tips. Just faintly, you can make out the wet sound your sex makes every time he fucks his fingers into you intentionally. Its instantaneous the way heat blooms in your pelvis, knotting up in your stomach until you’re so overwhelmed, you’re trembling in his grip. “She’s so fuckin’ greedy, pretty little cunt needs to be stuffed, don’t she? G’damn, you’re quiverin’—you gonna cum f’me already?” His words are like a dirty secret, never meant to be revealed—knowing exactly what kind of storm that truth would bring. Let the rain pour down, let the thunder crack and the gusts rip the apprehension from your bones—because Joel Miller wants you and you’ve been waiting for this moment for two years.

You’ve imagined this a million times, slipped your fingers between your legs to the mere idea of this revered and dignified southern gentleman—more once you’d put a face to the elusive cowboy. No matter how deeply you lost yourself to your imagination, none of it will ever amount to the way cold brick feels against your exposed back, the way denim jeans ruffs up the insides of your smooth thighs, the way a felt Stetson bumps against your temple when his fingers curl against a spot inside of you no man has ever found, dragging the air from your lungs, robbing your vocal cords of their melody. With your eyes rolled back and your desire strung tight, you manage to string together enough sound to produce words.

“Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum! Please!”

A third, assured finger slips in right beside the other two and slam forward, sending you spiraling down that one way path towards pure ecstasy. His fingers curl again and his thumb quickens, pushing you up and up until you’re sure you’re about to melt through his finger tips, a weeping puddle at his feet. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.”

His command is your saving grace, the final twist that undoes the well wound rope holding you together. A variation of his name rips from your throat and consumes the space around you, invoking a bright euphoria that shrouds every nerve ending you possess. He doesn’t even know what he’s just subjected your body to—a life altering experience that you will never be able to recreate with another person. “S…s’the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” is the only thing your mind conjures up once you’ve come down enough to speak. He’s still holding onto you, slowly slipping his fingers out and letting you down with a satisfied chuckle.

“Wunna taste you,”

How will you handle another assault from that honed attention? How will you ever unsee that unruly tousle of curls between your thighs?

He doesn’t give you long enough to form a protest before he’s rushing you through the parking lot, a determination in his step that you’ve never seen. He’s surpassed the point of antsy when he yanks open the passenger door and finds leverage on your hips to hoist you up, then toss you down on the torn upholstery. You should say something—tell him to slow down before you pass out from the burn of his hands—but fuck you don’t want him to stop, consciousness be damned.

Instead, you watch him set his cowboy hat on the dusty dashboard, the silver trim of the band shimmering with luster in the golden street lamps. He drinks your body in visibly, relishing in every curve and inhale of breath. When his vision finds yours, they are nearly black with desire—his pupils having consumed every inch of bourbony brown. When his big hands find your thighs again, the resistance bleeds away and gives way to insurmountable, greedy hunger.

“C’mere, girl.” The hands on your thighs dig into the flesh, leaving finger shaped dimples in your sensitive skin. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.” Jesus christ.

If your friends could see you now, they’d all laugh at how easy you are, but right now—it’s just you and your cowboy—you’ll never be anything but easy for him.

His hands move with fever, hastily pushing your dress up your hips. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” That same ferocious want consumes you, possessing your hands to work on their own accord, helping Joel shimmy your panties down your thighs and over your heels.

You have enough time to register the way he stuffs the black lace into the front pocket of his wranglers before that head of his is forcing its way under your dress. He spreads your legs easily, pushes and pulls with his hands until his mouth seals over your clit, drenching your nervous system in blinding heat.

He’s good, so good at this. His tongue slides through your dripping folds with a tedious, monotonous rhythm. He’s licking for a taste, for his own glutinous thirst based on the way he groans and sighs against the softness of your lips. His eyes flick up at the same time your body starts to quiver, trying to adjust to so much honed desire narrowed in on you. “J-Joel, please don’t st-top.” Your eyes start to leave his in favor of rolling back in your head when your chest arches out, searching for a breath of sobering air, for something to hold onto so you don’t crumble apart. “Feels so good—you feel so good.”

His mouth closes over you and he sucks, pulling your clit against the smoothness of his tongue as he flicks it over and over, soothing the sensitive bud, while actively robbing you of any coherent train of thought. The only sounds that leave your lungs are sharp gasps and whines, fueled by the low groaning sound he’s muffling between your thighs. He releases you and your body reels, drawing in breath after breath to catch up with your racing heart.

“Wunna split this little pussy open on me,”

Oh fuck, oh fuck fuck—fuck.

You have long enough to gaze down at him, watching as he slides the flat of his tongue through your lips, over the sensitive bud, before your head is dipping back again.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” you heave and he pulls away completely, shocking you into a mewling, whining mess. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body bares down on nothing, /wish he would just give it up already, unbuckle that belt, push down those wranglers and fuck you like you deserve. Joel grunts while he watches, letting it rumble through his whole body. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

His whole demeanor shifts, alternating from this brazen, confident cowboy to the man suddenly lost between your thighs, sucking and slurping, licking and moaning to himself. He’s gutless, starving and desperate, he whimpers when you squeeze your thighs and cry his name, holding on tight until the flash of blue and red and the sound of a loud voice rips him from his mission.

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

Joel rips himself away from your body before you even have a chance to cover yourself. “Fuck-fuck,” he looks around sharply, eying the lone officer in a tan blazer with flashing lights fastened to its hard top. The sheriff has a light in their hand, leaning over the side of the blazer. You manage to pull your dress down and scoot back, trying to hide yourself from the light shining on the two of you.

Joel's gaze falls away from the officer, parked behind the truck, blocking it in. Instead, he looks forward, into the clearing in front of the parking lot, half lit by the street lamp. His jaw clicks and he looks set on whatever is going through that big brain of his. “Put a seat belt on.”

What?

Joel grabs his hat and slides across the bench seat quickly, slamming the door behind him. He makes it across you and throws himself in front of the steering wheel, finding the ignition quickly to turn the keys in the shaft.

The chevy roars to life at the same time that he slams the gear shifter into drive and plows over the parking block. Before you have a chance to register what's happening, the blue pickup is sliding through mud and grass, leaving tire tracks in the field as he cuts through it towards the highway.

“Joel, what in the—fuck!“ you shout, reaching up for the oh-shit handle, while the other hand reaches for the solid form beside you, grasping him by the bicep as he snorts nervously. “Just—calm down for a second, we’ll lose ‘em.”

Your heart races and your nerves radiate through your entire body. You’re a good kid, you’ve never ran from the cops before, never been in trouble for crying out loud. You did your best in school, tried to make your parents proud despite your small side of rebellion. And yet, here you are—trying your best to hang on while he cuts corners and runs stop signs, old alleyways and back roads through the thickets. The truck roars past speed limit signs, loosing rodeo flyers pinned to telephone poles when he slams the gears—orange papers fluttering in the settling dust.

He snorts, taking another random left and speeding down the street. “Ain’t gonna get arrested, honey. Just trust me.”

Trust him? How could he even ask you that, like that wasn’t what this was all along. You trusted him like you trusted the sun to set and rise again, like you trusted the birds to sing and the rivers to run—you’d trusted Joel with your family’s dream and he never let you down.

Somewhere along the way, you lose the ability to fight off your grin, Joel manages to leave flashing red and blue in a cloud of dust. He cuts through a group of trees leading into a clearing and shuts off the lights. He drives by moonlight, effectively covering his tracks and making his way onto another road, leading up the mountain towards the ranch. He pulls off another dirt road that is cut out along the side of the hill, but he isn’t in as much of a hurry as he was before. He takes a last left, bringing the truck to the edge of the hillside that overlooks the entire town of jackson—from the dance hall—to the bar—to the red and blue set of lights on the south side of town, still looking for you and your cowboy.

The world grants you a few silent moments to catch your breath, before it completely robs you of tingling in your muscles, the conscious connection between the two of you. The reality of being truly alone with him is sobering, with nothing but the trees and the wildlife to offer a distraction.

Now that the air has cooled and your heart has finished pounding in your ears, you can make out the faint hum of the stereo, the FM dial lit up by the soft glow behind it. The station is still the same as it was when you were a girl, riding in your daddy’s pickup, playing old country music like it did in the days of your youth.

Now, it rings in your ears with the nerves seeping into your bones, settling into an uncomfortable dust. Right now, of all times? Anxiety has to claw up your chest and wrap around your throat while his saliva is still drying on the inside of your thighs?

Fuck, his beard is still glistening in the green-glow of the stereo.

“You’re starin’ at me.” He says almost quietly. You expected him to tease and flirt, maybe boast, but his voice waivers halfway through and you start to pick up on his slight nerve. Under all that charm and intensity is starting to give way to a much more vulnerable Joel—a man you know all too well.

“You’re just, uh—“ you swallow thickly and try to find the courage to meet his deep brown eyes. “Your beard is…wet.” When you do find his irises, his mouth picks up in a half smirk. If he’s as scared as you are right now, he’s doing a good job of hiding it. He’s giving it everything he’s got to hide it from you.

It’s been so long and you need this. Need to be touched, appreciated, worshipped.

The look in his eyes tells you that he’s eager to kneel.

“And who’s fault is that, hmm?” That sweet, sultry accent drags you in, sliding closer on the seat until you're nearly tucked into his side, leaned back against the seat while he looms over you. He’s still nervous, you can see it floating around in his dark eyes, but his jaw clicks like he’s trying to rein something in.

Silence falls upon you once more, but unbeknownst to the cicadas and the crickets, your dancing gazes say everything you need to hear. His eyes drop to your lips and yours to his. His tongue peaks out unconsciously, wetting his bottom lip ever so slightly—like he’s tasting you there.

His mouth clicks shut and it's then that you glance up. His eyes are back on yours, suddenly so much softer with a lulled arch to his eyebrows. In the depths of his eyes you find renewed hunger, fire burning in those pools of smooth chocolate. Your body relaxes, succumbs to the form of his plains of muscles adorning his body. When you tilt your head up to him in offering, you sink so deeply into those dark pools you can nearly taste the sweetness of him like velvety candy melting against your taste buds.

“Joel—“ you choke out, deciding then that if he waits a second longer you’ll suffocate.

There's things about this life that can never be stopped, inexorable phenomenons that are unavoidable. The seasons will always change. The storms will always come, lightning will always strike. The days will always end and the sun will rise again on the next.

And Joel Miller will always, always break when you say his name like that.

He falls into you with a sharp intake of breath, crashing his mouth against yours with surprising accuracy. It’s so easy to let him take over with the perfect combination of rush and savor he puts into the way he envelops you. His mouth is soft, but persistent, wrapping around your bottom lip when he sucks it between his teeth for a soft bite that makes you want to live in this moment forever.

You nearly do because you get absolutely lost in kissing him, you don’t protest when he leans you back on the bench seat, you don’t put up any sort of fight when he spreads your thighs with his wide hips. When his hands grip your knees, you know you’re completely done for.

He pulls away from your mouth and his eyes find yours in the low green glow and there, you find everything you’ve ever longed for.

“I…I think,” Joel shifts, looking down at his hands like he’s just woken up from sleep walking straight into your heart and soul. “I think I should get you home, s’gettin late.”

Late? Your poor muddled brain cannot keep up with how quickly he fades in and out of doing anything to have you, to be terrified to touch you. How quickly he slips into a starved desire to shaking in his boots.

Not for the first time, you wish you could reach right into his brain and pull out whatever it is that makes him think you don’t want those rough hands all over your bare body. He’s already had a taste of you, already kissed you—what more could be standing in his way?

“Home? Joel, we were just getting started—“ he clears his throat and sits up, trying to slide away from you but your heels dig into his tailbone and drag him back. “Started down a road we both know only leads to nothing but trouble and regret.”

What, the, fuck?

“I’m—you think this is a bad idea?”

The uncomfortable air settles back in between you and your legs around him loosen. “Think you're going to realize really quickly this ain’t what you want and this—I’ve got…too much on the line.”

He has too much on the line? What about the ranch? Your childhood home about to be lost to the bank? What about the dance hall where he’s built a new floor to make you smile? Does it all wash away with his assumed doom?

“What are you saying? This…this was a mistake? Joel I still have your fucking spit drying on my pussy and you—you regretted it already?” The realization feels like a dull blade straight to your gut, forcing it way in and twisting you from the inside out. It burns with shame and agony and you pull yourself out from under his sturdy build.

“I didn’t mean—I regret anything, fuck knows I don’t—“ no, no. You’ve given this man so much of yourself, committed so much to be thrown around and have your feelings stomped on.

“Then what the fuck does it mean, Joel! You—you made me cum while telling me you wanted to stuff my cunt but now you think this is…” you have a realization then, that maybe—just maybe, he does actually regret it. What does he think, you’d turn around and throw him out on his ass? If he truly thinks that low of you then maybe…

“This was a big fucking mistake.” You say coldly, making up your mind as you right your bunched up dress and adjust your fixed gaze on the passenger side window.

“Take me home.” It’s not a request.

It’s not an invitation, either, Joel understands as he watches you close the front door behind you later that night, settling his made up mind.

He presses his palm to his crotch twice and comes in his pants right there in the driveway, just like he knew he was going to.

And he feels like a fucking fool.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel tlou #archive of our own #cowboy!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut

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starsandstormyseas · 9 months

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20 Questions for Writers

i was tagged by @illegalcerebral thank you!

How many works do you have on AO3?

25 2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,761,631 3. What fandoms do you write for? Mainly marvel. I'm into different fandoms but because I only write one thing at a time its just Marvel lol. 4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Rebel Columbia (Marvel) Bitter Protocol (Marvel) You Promised (Big Hero 6) Die Another Day (Assassin's Creed) Liberty Horizon (Marvel)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Almost always yes, I like being able to respond to feedback, to explain a thought process or answer a question. I also like to thank them for leaving a comment. 6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Wolf Spider is the only one with a "downer" ending so probably that one. 7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably Rebel Columbia or Bitter Protocol. They both have positive endings so either one could apply. 8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Sometimes but nothing that ever felt significant. The one that was memorable to me was someone who judged the character by their own personal morality which was really weird. 9. Do you write smut? There's a little bit in Wolf Spider, but just smut itself no. 10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes, though it's kinda subtle and its neither plot relevant nor do I want it to distract from the story at large. (The world of Elementary exists in the Rebel Columbia series). 11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I've found. I hope not. 12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, Rebel Columbia has been translated into German on an obscure German fandom forum. 13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, years ago. It was kind of an experiment with someone I didn't actually mesh well with so it wasn't a great experience lol. 14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

Eh, I don't really enjoy fandom for the ships. I have a few with my own characters but they're all OCs. I guess BuckyNat? Miles and Gwen are cute too. Its easier to say which ships I DON'T like. 15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Supernatural one. I also have a Wild West AU I'd love to write but its just snippets and detached scenes right now. 16. What’s your writing strengths?

Lack of normalcy. I also feel like I handle critique well (I have to engage with it a lot in my actual work life so getting a random or even unwanted critique doesn't bother me lmfao) and if someone has an idea of what to change or edit in my fic I consider it seriously and more than once have edited and altered entire fics based on recommendations that I felt added to the story.

Also cliffhangers. 17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Brevity. I also have to resist undercutting heavy moments with unintentional humor, like the one chapter with a big reveal that was overshadowed by me using the word "yeet" in a later scene lol.

And cliffhangers too lol. 18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done it a little, and because I'm using google translate my only goal is that anyone else reading is also probably using google translate to read it, if they're not a native or fluent speaker, so I keep the dialogue basic and easy to translate. I've had multilingual commentors who give me advice on pronouns and grammar which is helpful because I just don't know sometimes lmao.

Other times when the use of language isn't as important as the dialogue/information itself, I just keep it in English and use italics to indicate the new language being used. 19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter and Star Wars. 20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Rebel Columbia. It's not the first one I finished but its still one I really like, which is most important lol.

#tagged #tag game #my writing

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darlingpoppet · 11 months

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[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

Tagged by @johaerys-writes (who is always welcome to tag me in stuff whenever they want because it makes my day every time <3)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 16 as of now. I have another fic I’m not yet allowed to publish outside of its anthology that I’d like to upload eventually, and I also have new WIP currently in the works, so the number is slowly growing!

2. What is your AO3 word count? 128,406… I’ve only been actively publishing on my AO3 account for about 2 years so I’d say it’s a pretty decent output!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Right now just two: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan (mostly Eruri), and Patrochilles (from The Iliad/Hades/TSOA/etc. because it’s better to say the ship itself is the fandom right? lol) Although Hades in itself can perhaps be considered a separate third category because that particular spin on Greek Mythology & its interpretation of Patrochilles has particularly captured my imagination, and because I’ve written for other ships in that universe like PZA and MZT

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? In descending order: Pressed Flowers, Strain, Upon A Lazy Bed, Once More, and Closest To My Heart (the latter two are currently tied for 4th but Closest might eke ahead once this is posted haha.) I actually really love how these are a pretty good representative sample of my works: Eruri, Patrochilles (TSOA-verse & Hades-verse), PZA; some smutty, some angsty & some sweet; their ratings are all that AO3 offers: 1 G, 1 T, 1 M, & 2 E. I’m a bit sad that as of this writing Where The Dead Forget has been knocked out of the top 5 but since it’s still an ongoing WIP that’s only like 25% done, assuming its readership grows, it’ll certainly claw its way back up through the rankings lol

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do my best to respond! I like to show my gratitude to anyone who kindly takes the time to share their thoughts, and also I love to be able to discuss the story & characters when I have the opportunity! I’ve done my best to be diligent about responding ever since I started posting Patrochilles fics but unfortunately I still have an accumulated backlog from the earlier days of posting… my inbox is sitting at an ignominious 28 “unreads” atm (although I promise I did read & savor each one! I’ll respond eventually, I promise!!)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Pressed Flowers and Upon A Lazy Bed both have pretty bittersweet endings. Closest To My Heart has a “happy” ending that in the context of the rest of the story is in fact rather bleak, and I’ve rightfully gotten a lot of feedback that people found it pretty unsettling, haha.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Nonbiri-ya, perhaps? Or perhaps it’s Sea Of Love, if you’re a Hadesgame enjoyer who’s also familiar with the Achilles myths and the prophecies about his life

8. Do you get hate on fics? I haven’t received any so far. If anyone dislikes what I’m cooking up they’re gratefully keeping it to themselves or at least where I can’t see it, haha.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes and this year especially I’ve been trying to get better at it! I’ve always personally enjoyed smut that’s used as a vehicle for character/relationship study, that combo of eroticism + emotion is soooo good. As for what kind it is… uhhhh I’m not sure since I’ve done everything from tender & romantic, “fade-to-black” scenes to dead dovey fetish fuel and everything in between, lol. I hope I write the kind of smut that’s hot I guess uwu

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Not really, unless you’d consider mixing & matching details of different Greek mythology retellings into a new story to be a crossover… but personally I don’t think it counts haha. Sea Of Love in some ways feels like a TSOA/Hades crossover but I think it’s more just the vibes since it was still my aim to depict Hadesgame versions of Patrochilles during their childhood

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of… hopefully not haha

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I’ve translated several of my own fics into Japanese for doujinshi publishing purposes: The Upper Hand, Stomach & Heart, Odd One Out, and one more that isn’t on AO3 yet called LoveSick Arrows. I also translated Upon A Lazy Bed into Japanese for fun over a year ago and I’ve been meaning to post it for ages but my partner who usually betas my translations still hasn’t looked it over haha. My fic Harmony was translated into Russian and Ukrainian as part of a fandom group project. Also, I once received a request from someone who wanted to translate The Upper Hand into Russian. Not sure if it ever happened… perhaps it’s out there somewhere on ficbook, though I’m not sure where! (If anyone knows I’d love to link back to it!)

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? No, never! I’m not sure how a writing collaboration works exactly but it might be fun to try sometime!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Oh god… I mean I would have to say it’s eruri right? Just for the sheer amount of time & the degree I’ve gone hard for this ship… all the friendships I made and the person I’ve become literally would not have been possible without it. My comparatively recent foray into writing has come at a time when that passion is in a more dormant period though. And instead I’m having a lot of fun writing with Patrochilles which I can already tell will be another all-timer for me (two years ago me would probably be surprised to know that current me is taking Classical Greek lessons because the hyperfixations cannot be controlled, amirite?) I’ve enjoyed a lot of ships but I’ve had so few genuine OTPs my whole life because once I fall in love with a ship I fall HARD. Probably the only other one that has genuinely changed my life like Eruri and Patrochilles have is Wolfstar… that one definitely comes with a lot of bittersweetness but at least I can still say I have a lot good memories attached to it <3

15. What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? I wanna say “never say never” because every time I look through my WIPs and fic ideas I’m always like “oh this was so good! I should return to it!” I had always wanted to do my own “Erwin lives” fic but I’m not sure exactly if I have enough passion atm to bring something interesting or unique to that little sub-genre. Maybe someday, if I have a good enough idea. I’ve also for the longest time had a “what if Erwin joined the Military Police instead of the Survey Corps” story idea because back in the early days of the eruri fandom there were a lot of popular fanon & AUs where Erwin was an MP or ex-MP (probably popularized by Audacity?) That mini-genre pretty much died out once we learned his canon backstory but I still wanted to do one in conversation/playing with the canon, because I think that would be an interesting vehicle to explore his character motivations by considering an alternative & I think I could make a neat little political thriller out of it. Again, maybe someday. I think the only WIP I have actually talked about that’s well & truly “dead” is the Achilles POV fic I said I was writing in the notes for Upon A Lazy Bed. It was just too episodic and I could never really come up with a proper narrative through-line for it. On the bright side, much of what I had written for it and its overall thesis statement ended up getting repurposed for Where The Dead Forget, so at least it lives now as something else. There are still a couple orphan stand-alone episodes from it that I still quite like, so maybe I’ll publish them as a little TSOA-verse drabble collection or something someday.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I’m pretty good at creating a certain tone and atmosphere. I also think I’m getting good at making my prose flow in a rhythmically pleasing way. A friend once called my writing “lyrical” & I think it was one of the kindest compliments I’ve ever gotten ;o;

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I said this in an earlier ask meme but I don’t think I’m very good at action scenes, it’s hard for me to make a sequence of actions both interesting & make sense and I don’t really enjoy writing them haha. They’re harder than sex scenes too because at least in those you can weave in a lot more emotions among the “choreography”. Also: long-form serialized storytelling does not come naturally to me at all and I’m unsure if I do a good job with things like pacing or being able to clearly see both the forest & trees. Time will tell I guess lol. On that note, I’m also a pretty slow writer. I am Not that author who gives regular weekly/monthly updates haha.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Personally I don’t really encounter this often but when I do it’s usually demonstrating a language barrier between the characters, or something being purposely obfuscated from the reader, which I think is all fine & legit. I suppose you would see it more often between characters who are understood to not actually be speaking in the language of the fic, yeah? I was reading a novel recently that was injecting all sorts of words & phrases in the language of the setting and idk… I guess it added to the atmosphere but when I can’t understand what they’re saying even though it’s something the pov character is meant to understand then it starts to feel a bit alienating and I don’t like it, haha.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Gundam Wing, I think? LMFAO! I was 12 and I wrote some kind of AU where they all go to camp and I’m pretty sure it was pure tween cringe haha. The first fandom in which I posted more publicly was Harry Potter. The only one I really remember from back then was a James/Sirius fic I wrote when I was 16 that nowadays would be considered dd content… it’s probably lost to the sands of time but even now I still think the concept was solid uwu

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? The ones I’ve always felt pretty stoked on since posting them are Upon A Lazy Bed and Closest To My Heart… both of them because I enjoyed toying with the ideas behind them, and to me they successfully evoke the atmosphere and emotional responses I was going for. And if I can continue make my writing as pretty as I think UALB ended up being I’ll be very happy indeed! Also: I felt kind of iffy on LoveSick Arrows (the one not on AO3 yet) when I first submitted it but recently I reread it and I think it turned out way better than I gave it credit for… it might be my favorite eruri fic to date :)

Tagging @galpalpetraral @zorthania @lostcauses-noregrets @he1chouarts @goddamnchou @ladymacbethsspot & @elemmacil <3 Also belatedly tagging @sonderous-opia because I couldn’t remember what your tumblr account name was until now ;o;

#eruri #patrochilles #wolfstar #hades game #the iliad #the song of achilles #shingeki no kyojin #my fics

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likelightinglass · 2 years

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10 Lines Tagging Game

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway!

Thank you for the tag @givereadersahug ! My last 10 fics first lines game, starting with the oldest and going up to most recent. I cheated because it's really first paragraphs, not first lines. It's so funny to me how wildly different some of these are from each other in tone and rating and everything.

1. And What Do We Think We Might See? (G, 771, Snape & Sinistra, platonic)

It’s a little past three in the morning, and Severus hasn’t slept in weeks.

Not properly anyway, not this year. He might be Headmaster of this school but he’s never felt quite so out of control. He appears to run a tight ship, of course, keeping the students as safe as possible while somehow giving the impression that he revels in his colleagues’ and pupils' estimation of him, that he is a traitor, monster, murderer. Playing both sides and trying to stay afloat as he buys the boy who lived more time to run Dumbledore’s errands.

2. Snake as a Second Language (G, 4k, Snarry but Ron Centric)

Ron had a secret.

A deep, dark secret he knew never to share, not with his Gryffindor parents or Gryffindor siblings, not with his Gryffindor best friends, and certainly not with anyone at school, surrounded by all those slimy Slytherins.

And that was that Ronald Bilius Weasley loved snakes.

3. Once Upon a Time (G, 1k, Snarry)

Harry's gaze swept over the now neat and tidy kitchen, appraising its cleanliness. This room was his domain ever since he and Severus had moved in together, and despite his haphazard approach to most chores, tidying up after meals was ingrained in him since his childhood at the Dursleys.

But all traces of "breakfast for dinner" were gone, leftover biscuits were packed away for tomorrow and he was ready to go upstairs and check on the kids. Ron and Hermione were away for the weekend and Teddy was delighted that Rose was over for an extended sleepover.

4. In which Severus is stressed and needs Daddy to treat him like a dumb little cumdump. We're both gay and obsessed with tender, intimate kink; moved, we wrote this fanfic (E, 18k, Snarry)

Severus awoke that morning with a crick in his back, and a grouchy demeanour. It was Saturday, which meant all of the demands of a weekday, minus the promise of structure, of a clear end to the work to be done.

5. Best Friends (G, 686, Lily & Severus)

Severus had finally found a nice, quiet place to properly sulk. It shouldn't have been nearly this difficult, he thought with a scowl, particularly in a castle that was so enormous. He was always surrounded by people now: dormmates, students, teachers. Even ghosts!

6. Obedience Lessons (E, 7k, Snarry)

Severus shifted in his seat, sweat beading on his forehead as he took another deep breath, attempting to steady himself. He was uncomfortably warm all over, his clothes seemed stifling and itchy and it was all he could do not to rend his robes in two and fling them away from his overheated body.

7. Waiting Games (E, 2k, Snarry)

Harry stared into the refrigerator, mulling over whether a ham sandwich or leftover beef lo mein sounded better for lunch. Severus hated it when he let all the cold out while deciding on his options, but Severus was not here at the moment to express his displeasure at the bad habit, so Harry took as long as he wanted.

8. More Than Dark (E, 28k/WiP, Snarry)

Many years later, when the cold and dark and misery of Azkaban had been replaced with warmth and light and love, Severus Snape would think back on the coldest night in his first year in prison, and would decide that was when he'd first started to break.

9. An auror, a professor, and a potioneer walk into a bar. (M, 4k, Severus/Harry/Tonks

An auror, a professor, and a potioneer are celebrating at a pub.

There's a practiced ease to the way the three of them are sitting at their regular table shoved into the corner of the Three Broomsticks. The Auror is laughing at her own joke, body tilted towards the other two and head close as if sharing a secret. The Professor has one leg twisted around the Potioneer's underneath the table and the other propped up against the Auror's chair. The Potioneer is trying hard not to smile at them both and he's not succeeding.

10. This Mirrored Perspective (E, 7k, Severus/Harry/Tonks but technically Solo Severus lol)

He's had the fantasy for a long time, almost since he discovered wanking. Once he realized that rubbing his hard cock felt so good, since that first surprise of orgasm washed over him with a gasp, that dizzying rush of endorphins, it had been there, in the back of his mind.

That nagging sense that he didn't deserve it.

Tagging @bleedcolor @perverse-idyll @danpuff-ao3 @liladiurne @perfackles @ripeteeth @anti-bright-places @mia-ugly and anyone else who wants to do it!

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3pirouette · 9 months

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Its kinda sad about Steggy but we'll always be here for you!! Maybe What If can open up some ideas for you, if you're willing to have them.

Hello, dear Anon.

Now, never say never. That’s my motto. There’s still a good handful of WIPs I’ve never posted (and some I did, oops) that I want to eventually finish.

But this happens. At least to me, I don’t know about anyone else.

For me, ships and pairing are forever, but how I interact with them changes, and a lot of that has to do with what I get from writing. (Currently I’m working out a lot of trauma in that TLOU fic, it’s really off how things have come out I never expected, but that’s how it goes.)

But honestly, as the shows and movies and such resolve their canon, I either accept it and move on happy, or I accept it and move on sad.

For instance, milder and Scully. MSR. My TRUE first ship. My OTP forever and ever. But Chris Cater ABUSED them. Has season 11 helped a little with the trauma from seasons 8-10? Maybe. But to me, they’re happy and together forever. There’s only so many stories I can read and write about how perfect they are for one another.

GSR. Grissom and Sara from CSI. Canonically together. Happily ever after.

Belle and Rumple from Once. A fucking train wreck of writing, but still sort of together. Still a happy-ish ending.

Penny and Sheldon. Sigh. They were doomed from the start, but I don’t think I would have strayed SO far away from that fandom if the show hadn’t gone down hill fast. The show left such a bad taste in my mouth that I CAN’T revisit those characters.

Steve and Peggy. Perfectly together. In any time. Is there a world full of AUs I could explore? Absolutely. Do I need to? Meh. Not right now. The stories I want to tell with them are generally done.

I don’t know what the future EVER holds for me with fic. My brain is really fickle like that. But that’s also what I love about it. Fic is there for me when I need it, to read or to write. And I write for myself first, so yes, I do go back and read my own fic a lot.

And not that I don’t love my readers, because I ADORE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU. But I write for myself first. I’m too old, have too much to do in RL to stress over not finishing a fic or not releasing a chapter. Feedback is a gift BEYOND MEASURE, but the writing is the reward in itself.

So I’m not going, that’s the bottom line. I’ll always be a fan, I’ll always be around, but I make no promises about my writing, and I never have, because the inspiration is fickle, and it’s something I do to bring myself happiness, so I try to never stress over it.

Except for secret Santa’s. I stress over those. O_o

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lokilickedme · 2 years

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8/1

Okay, after a lot of thought I’ve decided I’m going to put Here And There up at AO3. It’s been published (Kindle and paperback) for a few years but has never done well (55 copies sold since August of 2017, yikes) and since this month marks its 5th birthday, I’ve decided to bring Baltho, Keene, and Holly into the fandom. This serves two purposes:

1) Several of my followers have told me since its release that they have no access to Amazon for various reasons (not available in their country, no credit card/bank account, shipping cost prohibitive to their location, etc) and they really wanted to read it, and

2) I have this wild idea that if I put it on AO3 I’ll be motivated to work on the sequel, which I’ve been promising since 2018. Meaning it’ll be on AO3 as well, and then be released to Kindle and paperback once it’s done.

A little background info on this series:

Technically it belongs in the Tom Hiddleston fandom. The faceclaim for Baltho is Tom, circa OLLA-era - but that’s about as far as it goes. Baltho (and Keene and everyone else in this) is an original character who just happens to have a familiar face...because you know how I feel about TH’s face :)

Holly was purposefully left un-described and un-faceclaimed. She’s whoever you want her to be, I never chose anyone to “be” her, though I think there might have been a passing reference to her hair color at some point from Keene’s POV. I also think in book 2 she might end up being described a little more in-depth.

Keene’s faceclaim is David Gandy. He was the first and only face I ever considered for this character and all these years later I can still only see him in the role.

A very old post with a very general moodboard is HERE.

Jason Momoa, Chris Hemsworth, Joe Mangianello, Andrew Hozier-Byrne, Can Yaman, and a few others are faceclaimed in books 1 and 2. I’ll be posting photo edits of the characters at a later date.

The official summary:

When a mysterious man calling himself Keene falls from a thirty story building onto the hood of her car, Holly Blake’s life promptly flips upside down. She’s in grief counseling to recover from the loss of her fiance, who, according to the mysterious stranger, was “one of us” - the Strada, a race of non-humans existing in a parallel dimension, separated from humans by just a few seconds of time and a barrier called the In Between.

Holly doesn’t believe any of it…which makes it that much easier for her to just give in and go with it when the ruggedly handsome stranger initiates an intimate connection with her. But when his best friend and worst enemy follows him across the barrier with the intention of causing trouble, Holly finds herself helping them solve the mystery of who and what exactly her fiance was…innocent victim, or cold blooded killer?

Book 2 (Now And Then) is about 1/4 written and I’m hoping having it run in a regular-updating fic format will help me finish it, since it’s been in my WIPs for so stupidly long.

Book 1 (Here And There) is complete and will post chapter by chapter on a weekly schedule.

There is a book 3 planned, but not promised.

For those who have already read Here And There: consider this a workup to the sequel you’ve been waiting for for the last four years :D I’ll probably also change some stuff or add things as I go because you know I can never leave anything alone.

Warnings: Well, I mean, there’s sex. The Strada are pan/omnisexual, they’ll hop on anything if it stands still long enough, plus there’s that whole recharge thing. Also multiples. And blisskas, which I won’t explain here but you who’ve read it already know what I’m talking about. There’s a fairly large emotional trauma in the protagonist’s past that is discussed at the beginning. Some violence. Okay, a fair amount of violence once Baltho comes on the scene. One particularly rotten bit of skullduggery - a character takes the form of another character to have sex with the female character, which is incredibly uncool but serves to let you know what kind of person/being we’re dealing with. And book 1 ends with a cliffhanger, which is why I’ve got to get book 2 written...some of you have been waiting a LONG damn time to find out what happened next lol (sorry). The plan is to have book 2 mostly finished and ready to start posting by the time book 1 is all up.

Language, sex, violence, supernatural stuff. You know the drill. A fair bit of light blasphemy from Baltho as well because he’s just like that.

Here And There is 35,450 words long, 23 chapters plus a very necessary glossary (you’ll understand why pretty quick).

Classified as erotic sci-fi fantasy according to its category designation at Amazon, so we’ll go with that.

The plan is to start posting it next weekend, so if you want to be added to the regular tag list now’s the time to let me know.

#Here And There #Hiddleston fic

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captain-ozone · 3 years

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Fic Writer Review

Thank you for the tag, @flutteringdreams-matw!! I loved reading your review, and I’m stoked to have the opportunity to fill this out myself, too!

1) How many works do you have on AO3? 46. And not all of them have been transferred over from FFN. There’s at least another dozen between multiple fandoms over there, lol.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 656,571. My word.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? When one of your fandoms is DC Comics...Does that count as one or several? LOL. xD

There’s been Merlin, Danny Phantom, Batman (Comics), Young Justice (cartoon), Teen Titans (cartoon), Titans (TV Show), Smallville (TV show), The Justice League (movie), The Flash (Arrowverse TV Show), Miraculous Ladybug, Harry Potter, Rise of the Guardians, How to Train Your Dragon, Sword Art Online (anime), Blue Exorcist (anime), The Bright Sessions (podcast). Might be missing some.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. Come Alive (Young Justice) 2. life, if well lived (Batman) 3. On Three (Miraculous Ladybug) 4. a million dreams (Batman) 5. Genesis (Danny Phantom)

@redriotted should be informed that my top two are fics she requested from me via prompts I’m sure neither of us expected I would ever fill. Love you, dear! I credit you for these fics!

5. Which of your fic do you want more attention for? Difficult question for me to answer. I’ve been gifted with lovely feedback on most of my work. I guess if I were to choose one it would be Locking Up the Sun (Batman)? It’s a Fantasy AU. A fantastic exercise in world-building. I had so much fun with it that I’ve been playing with the idea of spinning bits of it into an original work.

6. Do you respond to comments, why or why not? YES. I try to respond to every review and comment I receive. I understand it takes a lot of time and energy for some people, but from the moment I posted my first Merlin fic in 2011, I needed to respond, even if with nothing more than a little thank you. And I’m not about to stop the habit. I met some of my dearest friends responding to reviews. I still meet wonderful people doing so. :) 7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? Uhhhh, I’m not sure? I guess it depends on perspective. Most of my fics end happily, or rather, I am quite heavy-handed on the comfort part of the Hurt/Comfort trope. I do bittersweet more often than I do angst. I wrote a Merlin AU inspired by The Picture of Dorian Gray about Uther Pendragon that was pretty angsty? Grief was another one, also in the Merlin fandom. I’m sure there were some in my FFN Merlin oneshot collection Rabbits and Bathroom Breaks that apply, but lord knows I hardly remember half of what I’ve posted in that monster.

8. Do you write crossovers? Once. I wrote a Rise of the Guardians/Frozen crossover with an Elsa/Jack Frost pairing as a gift for a friend. 9. Have you ever received hate on a fic? Oh, of course. Who hasn’t? I’ve been cursed out more than once, too. It always stings, but it’s a matter of stepping back and asking myself: is this constructive? will this make me a better writer? Once you frame the comment/review that way, it’s a bit easier to see that it’s unproductive to linger on it for long. It’s someone’s personal preferences and/or beliefs not aligning with your own. Or someone who can’t quite distance themselves from fiction enough to realize you are not always what you write, nor are you a reflection of the characters/plot you’re writing about.

10. Do you write smut? if so what kind? Rarely, and only as crack or as a joke. Nothing I would ever share in public. RIP Uther Pendragon/Troll fic of circa 2013-2014. I do so wish I’d saved you somewhere safe. 11. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, but I have no idea where they are posted or in what language. Most of the requests came over FFN, so I’m sure they’re available somewhere. In some capacity.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not quite. My friend and I wrote every other line of the aforementioned Uther/Troll fic in a chatroom, if that counts. 13. What’s your all time favorite ship? I’m far more interested in platonic/family relationships in pretty much every fandom I’m in. If I were to choose one? Adam Hayes/Caleb Michaels from The Bright Sessions. Or Barry Allen/Iris West in The Flash.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? *eyes Shift warily*

I KID. I made a promise over half a decade ago, and I intend on keeping it. In all seriousness: A Merlin time-travel fic I started ages upon ages ago. I hardly remember what the point of it was. There is a fun scene I’ve considered posting as a oneshot more than once over the years, though, just because it makes me laugh.

15. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue, I think? I love it.

16. What are your writing weaknesses? Imagery/action. Give me a single scene focused on a conversation between two hopeless individuals that need some TLC and let me forget about where they are sitting or if they are sitting at all or if there are things that need describing around them, please and thank you. 17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I’ve done it, in some capacity. I used my knowledge of Latin grammar from old high school classes to try to write spells for Merlin fics. I probably butchered quite a few, lol. I think it’s important to use language as accurately as possible, though, if it were to be used at all. Most of the time I take the lazy man’s route and use dialogue tags and italics, just so I can avoid making ignorant mistakes. As a reader, as long as I have translations in front of me, I’m golden. 18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? Merlin. I owe that fandom everything. 19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? Come Alive. I don’t know that I have ever had so much fun writing anything in my life. a million dreams (my Flying Grayson time travel tear-jerker) and Not a Bit (my MLB Brothers AU, inspired by the original PV) come in close second. I dig my family feels, obviously. 20. What fic are you most proud of? Shift, my Danny Phantom AU, if only because it’s been seven years since I posted its first chapter. Writing it has felt like pulling teeth at certain points, but it has been with me for a long, long time. Rereading it is like looking at a time lapse of how I’ve developed as a writer, lol. Heart of Gold (Merlin) is another. Before Shift, it was the longest fic I’d ever written, one, and it was my first time really developing an OC/attempting a redemption arc as well. It was far from a perfect fic, but boy did I feel like a queen when I finished it. I’m sure you might’ve done something like this at some point, @cdelphiki, but here you go! @breynekai-tfc, too! And anyone else who sees and wants to share, please do so!

#captainozone #ask game #my writing #fanfic #fic

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cheesybadgers · 3 years

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Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 4)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 6,730

Summary: Set loosely during La Gran Metira and La Catedral (season 1, eps 8 and 9), a series of catastrophic events have devastating consequences for Horacio and Javier.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Canon-typical violence and the discussions thereof, lots and lots of angst (sorry, it had to be done!), swearing, smoking, some alcohol abuse, a handful of vague suggestive sexual references but no smut.

Notes: Well this turned out to be bigger than any of the previous chapters (oops), so it took me longer than anticipated. I considered splitting it in two, but think it flows better as one. I feel a bit bad for the sheer amount of angst going on here, but I promise it will get better for them both...eventually 😉 Thanks again to anyone who has stuck with this so far, either on AO3 or Tumblr ❤️ I aim to get on with chapter 5 a bit quicker now some of my other WIPs are done and dusted!

Whilst obviously I do not own Narcos or its characters, please do not copy, re-post, or plagiarize this fic in any capacity on this or other platforms. If you wish to create any fan works inspired by it, please provide a credit or send me a message if in doubt.

Chapter 4: Consequences

Horacio’s adrenaline surged as the doors to the derelict building that they had traced the hostages to smashed open, gunfire echoing off the walls and ringing in his ears. Yet Javier’s parting words over his radio – “Keep safe” – resounded louder than any amount of ammunition ever could.

Several of his men moved ahead of him, as they stalked the narrow corridors in unison; every footstep amplified and matching the rhythm of Horacio’s pounding heart. His eyes were laser-focused, his finger hovering on the trigger, more than ready to release when required.

Shots rang out from around the corner, bringing down the men in front of Horacio and leaving him as the first line of defence. He instinctively flattened himself against the wall and not a moment too soon, as more bullets skimmed passed him.

He continued forward once the onslaught ceased, his gun leading the way like a sixth sense. A bullet ricocheted off the open doorway centimetres from his head. In retaliation, his quick reflexes aimed his weapon in the direction of the source of the shot and his finger pulled the trigger.

Horacio heard the familiar heavy thud of a body hitting the floor as he moved further into the room, but before he could celebrate a job well done, he noticed the wardrobe in the corner.

The dark stained wood had noticeable bullet holes in it and the door stood slightly ajar. He gulped as he pulled it open, his worst fears confirmed in an instant. Diana Turbay had been concealed in the wardrobe and was now dead.

“Guys, we have a problem,” he confessed over his radio, whilst numbly staring down at the ground.

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One stray bullet was all it took to inadvertently give Escobar everything he wanted, setting in motion an unstoppable chain of spiralling events. President Gaviria had no choice but to give into his demands by granting him permission to incarcerate himself and his men in their own ‘jail’, along with there being a Congress vote on abolishing extradition that was virtually certain to pass. Horacio also received a cease-and-desist order advising him that no further ops were to be allowed on Escobar and Search Bloc were to be disbanded after he officially surrendered.

Javier hadn’t heard anything from Horacio in the aftermath. His calls went unanswered and he’d even stopped by the Carlos Holguín School, but found his office empty. He tracked down Trujillo, who informed him that no one had seen Horacio since the raid. The official line was he was sick, but both Trujillo and Javier suspected otherwise.

As a last resort, Javier drove to Horacio’s apartment. If he wasn’t here, he had no idea what the hell to do.

He knocked several times, but there was no response. “Horacio? Are you in there? Please, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

He had just turned on his heel to leave after his last-ditch attempt when he heard the locking mechanisms shifting on the other side of the door.

Javier spun round to be met with a very dishevelled Colonel. The dark circles under his eyes and red rims around his pupils gave away the sleep deprivation and overreliance on alcohol, not to mention how out of place the several days’ old scruff looked on a man who was usually very meticulous about keeping a tidy appearance. The sight made Javier’s chest ache.

“Can I come in?”

Horacio remained silent for a moment, before simply nodding and opening the door wider to allow Javier to follow him inside. The blinds were drawn and no lights were on, leaving them stood in a murky gloom that mirrored Horacio’s mood perfectly.

Javier took one look at the almost-empty whiskey bottle and overflowing ashtray on the coffee table with a knowing recognition and understanding. “When did you last eat? And I mean a proper meal.” He figured he’d deal with the easier, practical questions before attempting to address anything else.

Horacio was barely able to meet Javier’s eye as he leaned on the arm of the couch. “I dunno, a couple of days ago maybe.”

“Why don’t I fix us something whilst you have a shower?”

“Javier, I’m not a child. And I don’t deserve your sympathy either.”

“Who said anything about sympathy? It’s just some food and a shower.” Javier raised his hands in a truce as he spoke, although Horacio didn’t look convinced.

Despite his misgivings, Horacio did feel disgusting wallowing around in the same set of clothes and the arrival of Javier into his apartment had made him even more self-conscious about it, so he took his advice and made his way to the bathroom.

He wasn’t sure how long he plunged his head underneath the faucet, letting the heat of the water and the rising steam temporarily wipe his mind of all thought, as he braced his arms against the cool tiles. It would have been too easy to stay under it indefinitely, but the temperature was gradually turning lukewarm and the smell of cooking was beginning to stir pangs of hunger in him that he hadn’t felt for days.

After shaving and putting on fresh, clean clothes, he joined Javier in the kitchen; at least he looked more presentable now, even if his heart still felt like a lead weight. They silently ate the thrown together meal Javier had conjured up using whatever edible items he could find in the fridge. Nothing remotely fancy, but the gesture wasn’t lost on Horacio, even though he was the last person in the world who deserved to have dinner made for him by his…whatever Javier was to him by this point, he still couldn’t say. They’d never had a proper conversation about it; they’d somehow just fallen into a routine with each other whenever they got the opportunity, but they never really talked about it and Horacio knew better than to ask.

But now, he didn’t know where they stood for entirely different reasons. The raid had consequences for the DEA as well as the people of Colombia and even though it wasn’t his way, he knew how much Javier had been in favour of extradition. For the Americans to have that option taken away from them, he hadn’t been sure Javier would even want to see him again.

Once they’d eaten and tidied up somewhat, they wound up on the couch, mouths exploring and bodies entwined, yet neither eager to take it further. Javier eventually sat up to light a cigarette, expecting Horacio to follow suit, but Horacio only shifted his head up enough for it to rest in Javier’s lap, surprising them both in equal measures.

Javier hesitated, unsure what he was supposed to do, or rather what Horacio wanted him to do. He’d never seen him like this before and was much more accustomed to their roles being reversed. He inhaled on his cigarette with one hand, whilst slowly allowing his other to make contact with Horacio’s hair.

The hitch in Horacio’s breath at the sudden touch was audible, but he relaxed as Javier stroked his fingers lightly through his thick, dark locks. Javier felt the weight of Horacio melt into his thighs the more he worked across his head, allowing his fingertips to gently massage his scalp, as Horacio’s breathing gradually deepened. Javier continued until he was sure Horacio had drifted off to sleep; relieved that he had finally managed to get some rest.

Horacio awoke an hour or so later to find Javier dozing above him, his arm resting at Horacio’s hip. He sat up slowly, the movement displacing Javier and jolting him awake.

“Sorry,” Horacio muttered groggily. “Think we might be more comfortable in bed though.”

A drowsy, crooked smile crossed Javier’s lips, as his arm came up to cradle his neck, moving it from side to side in an attempt to shake out the achiness that had set in from slouching at an awkward angle. “I think you might be right.”

They moved to Horacio’s bedroom, undressing whilst still bleary-eyed before climbing under the sheets. Without exchanging a word, Javier lay behind Horacio, his arms sliding around his waist and pulling him flush against his own body; their forms moulding together with such ease and familiarity despite this being new territory for them.

“I’m sorry,” Horacio whispered into the darkness.

Javier rested against Horacio’s shoulder, placing delicate kisses across bare skin. “For what?”

“You know what. For all of this. For everything. I know it affects you and your work as well.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Horacio.”

“Oh yeah? Try telling that to Diana Turbay’s family.”

“It was a tragic accident. You weren’t to know, and it could have happened to anyone. This is on Escobar, okay? All of it. Not you or your men. Don’t ever forget that.”

Horacio didn’t respond but nuzzled his head back against Javier in acknowledgement, no further words necessary.

Despite the gnawing guilt he currently carried, it was out of the question that Horacio could ever forget to blame that piece of shit. He couldn’t be allowed to keep getting away with it. How many more lives would be destroyed because of him, especially now Search Bloc were no more? Something had to be done, and many of his men were of the same opinion. Many who had experienced the effects of Escobar’s brutality first-hand. They had to strike him in a way he’d never see coming, and Horacio had just the Achilles heel in mind.

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The next day, Horacio returned to work having successfully maintained his cover story, apart from amongst those that knew him best, of course.

Steve joined Javier in Medellín to meet with Horacio and Javier had to apply his best poker face whilst Horacio informed them about the disbanding of Search Bloc. Guilt rose up in Javier’s chest as Steve reacted to the news; whilst Javier could do nothing but lean against a filing cabinet, arms folded and eyes cast down to the floor, unable to raise them to meet Steve’s for the vast majority of the conversation and only speaking up to assure Horacio that they would continue to pass on any intel reports they received.

“Javi, you gotta cool it with that shit. They know we’ve been helpin’. One more and we’re out,” Steve warned.

Steve may have had a point, but there was no way Javier wasn’t going to help. There was no way he could sit back and do nothing given everything Horacio had sacrificed, given the state he’d been in last night. Not that Steve could ever know about any of that, obviously. Javier was also aware how fruitless it was to attempt to talk Horacio out of plans like this. He couldn’t deny he was worried about what the potential consequences from his next move could be, but as usual Javier was compelled to follow, justifying it to himself that doing so was an act of rebellion rather than one of service.

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In an ironic twist of fate aided by the Cali cartel and the Ochoas, Escobar’s Achilles heel fell right into Horacio’s lap. It was a long shot to expect Gustavo Gaviria to give up his cousin, even under duress and beaten black and blue. Realistically, Horacio knew that he never would and, in some ways, he didn’t care. It was a minor inconvenience, in the grand scheme of things. Regardless, it was a major blow to Escobar, on a personal and a business level. Whilst he would have preferred Gustavo to lead them straight to Pablo and make all of their lives easier, the alternative worked just fine for him too.

“Colonel, they’re gonna make us pay for this,” Trujillo cautioned as they stood over Gustavo’s bloodied body.

Trujillo was right; they probably would one day, but the adrenaline coursing through Horacio’s veins combined with his steadfast tunnel vision numbed him to the potential repercussions. Much like when they had been on the tail of Gacha, failure wasn’t an option. He was running out of time and opportunities with Escobar’s imminent incarceration and he had no idea what the future held for him, either.

It had crossed his mind multiple times that he could be disciplined, transferred or demoted, but he’d had to do something. He was more than used to putting his own needs on the backburner; he just hoped Javier would understand if there was severe blowback one day. He was tired of being put in impossible situations, but it was his duty to seek vengeance for the likes of Trujillo and Lastia, along with countless others who had suffered at the hands of the cartel and he couldn’t walk away now they had come this far.

His bed felt cold and empty that night as he restlessly tossed and turned, a cautionary reminder of what his life had been like for as long as he could remember before Javier. The only comfort was the pillow next to him that still had traces of Javier embedded in it. He shamelessly buried his nose into the soft material, the grounding scent quietening his racing mind and eventually nudging him towards sleep.

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Almost a fortnight passed before they were reunited, when Horacio was needed back in Bogotá for a string of meetings at the Embassy. The trip brought about mixed emotions; on one hand, he was desperate to see Javier again, but on the other, he was due to meet with his superiors – presumably to discuss recent events – and he had a bad feeling he was about to be on the receiving end of some less than complimentary feedback.

Trujillo had done as Horacio asked in covering up Gustavo’s demise and had filed the report to say he died in a shoot-out with the police, but he wasn’t convinced the higher-ups bought it. Combined with the Diana Turbay incident, Horacio knew he was on thin ice and wasn’t looking forward to having to explain himself to superiors who spent their lives safely hiding behind polished desks and paperwork.

The meeting turned out to be every bit as excruciating and infuriating as Horacio predicted it would be. He really didn’t care for justifying himself to bureaucrats who had no idea what it was like being in the thick of it day in, day out, especially with the limited budget and dated weapons they had to work with, never mind the rife corruption amongst his peers. They would never understand. He had to bite his tongue when he was issued with a written warning, although he later scrunched up the letter in disgust, swearing under his breath as he stormed off.

A combination of frustration from Horacio’s bad day and the fact he and Javier had been apart for a while led to an explosion of tension at Javier’s apartment that evening and it was exactly what was needed. They lay breathless underneath Javier’s sheets in the aftermath; sweaty, satisfied and relieved to be together.

“Think I’ve worked up an appetite after that,” Javier panted, now wishing he’d grabbed more than a liquid breakfast and a snack for lunch.

“Let’s go out, then.”

“What, you mean, like…on a date?”

Horacio couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the sudden alarm on Javier’s face. “Javier, we’ve been fucking for months and no one suspects a thing. I think it’ll be okay if we share a meal together.”

“Fair point,” Javier conceded with a shrug of his shoulders.

Once they’d both showered – a distracting activity in itself when they were sharing – and dressed, they headed out to a bistro not far from Javier’s apartment. Javier noticed a nervous flutter gripping his stomach as they sat down at a dimly lit table on the quieter side of the room. Not that there was anything particularly conspicuous about two work colleagues grabbing a bite to eat, but that didn’t stop him briefly scanning the room just to double check that no one was watching. Of course, the other diners were far too engrossed in their own parties and meals to pay the slightest bit of attention to them and he willed himself to relax as the waitress brought menus over and took their order.

It wasn’t just being in public like this that made Javier nervous, though. Whilst Horacio’s suggestion had partly been a practical one, seen as they were both here and in need of food, it had the potential to signify a great deal more. A fact both men were keenly aware of, even if they hadn’t had the courage to broach the subject. The precise nature of their relationship was starting to become the elephant in the room that they apparently would rather deal with tonight by knocking back whiskey harder than was strictly necessary.

“You seemed tense when you showed up at mine earlier, did everything go okay this afternoon?” Javier enquired once they had finished their food.

“Not really. They congratulated me on my recent successes by issuing me with a written warning.” Horacio scoffed, unable to hide the bitterness from his voice.

“Shit. Is that as bad as it sounds?”

“Well, it’s not good, let’s put it that way.”

“You need to tread carefully then.”

Horacio took another long, calculated sip of his drink. “I know.”

“I’m serious, Horacio. Please be careful.” Javier pinned Horacio with a heavy look, not needing to say anything further for Horacio to understand the full weight behind one simple sentence. Please don’t get fired. Please don’t get hurt. Please don’t leave me here to deal with all of this without you.

Their eyes stayed connected, only broken by the sound of Horacio’s phone ringing.

Javier couldn’t tell who it was from the limited words he overheard, but he picked up something about La Dispensaria before Horacio hung up.

“Guess who that was?” Horacio asked, as Javier looked at him expectantly, waiting for more details whilst he tapped the ashes from his cigarette into the tray between them. “Your partner. He just gave me a great gift. Poison.”

“Well shit. How did that come about?”

“One of the CIA’s fly-overs by the sounds of it.”

“Do you need me to do anything?”

“That depends on Murphy. Think he can handle it?”

“Yeah, I do. Just give him a chance, okay?”

“If you say so,” Horacio replied sceptically, but going along with it anyway for Javier’s sake. “I better be going. Sorry.” A sheepish look crept into Horacio’s features, feeling somewhat guilty considering it was his suggestion to come here in the first place and now he was leaving Javier to pick up the bill.

“It’s fine, although you’re paying next time.”

“So, there’s gonna be a next time?”

“Maybe,” Javier answered coyly, although his face rapidly fell into a more serious expression as Horacio stood up to leave. “Listen, just remember what I said.”

“I know. See you later.”

Javier couldn’t help but watch him walk away, unconvinced his words had made the desired impact, before signalling to the bartender for another drink. He figured it was going to be a long night. ------------------------------------------------------

Javier wasn’t sure what time he got back to his apartment, nor how many drink refills he’d had at the bistro before calling it a night. He collapsed on the sofa, closing his eyes in an attempt to ease the dizziness. The unshakeable fear that something had gone wrong suspended him somewhere between sleep and wake as he lay in a drunken stupor. They’d talked often of sailing close to the wind, but he really did worry Horacio was this time. The situation with Gustavo in particular was bound to catch up with him one day. Escobar was very much an eye-for-an-eye sort of a man and Javier couldn’t imagine him letting Horacio get away with assisting in the murder of his cousin. It was personal between them now and it made Javier’s blood run cold to think just how dangerous and out of control things could get.

No matter how much Javier understood why Horacio operated the way he did, he knew how it worked here. If there was any hint of bad PR, or if the right people deemed a shake-up to be politically convenient, Horacio would be gone. Same went for him and Steve. They were all just cogs in the machine, but Horacio was a man on a mission. He didn’t give a fuck about the conventions of bureaucracy when it was him and his men going toe-to-toe with the scumbags who had killed dozens of their families, friends and colleagues. He burned too fiercely and brightly to be tamed and anyone who tried to get in his way would be scorched and you couldn’t say they weren’t warned. He included himself in that.

He had half-hoped Horacio would stop by his apartment again, but accepted that was increasingly unlikely as the early signs of dawn began to emerge; the streetlights below the window extinguishing themselves and the subtle sound of birdsong indicating the gradual transition from night to day.

He wouldn’t have even noticed he’d dropped off if it wasn’t for being startled awake by the phone ringing. It was Steve, who had just arrived on the scene at La Dispensaria. Poison, Lizard and Big Badmouth were all dead. Javier breathed a deep sigh of relief at the news, although got the distinct impression Steve was withholding something from him, but decided he’d have to deal with that later. For now, he was content with the knowledge they’d made significant progress and tried hard to push aside the nagging sense of dread for the time being.

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It was late morning by the time Javier emerged from his apartment and not before downing painkillers and a large mug of coffee. There was no sign of Horacio at the Embassy when he arrived and Javier wasn’t even sure if he was still in Bogotá, or if he had already flown back to Medellín. He thought it strange he’d not been in touch at all though and alarm bells were starting to ring in his head.

Javier’s concerns were only validated further when he caught up with Steve. “So, I hear congratulations are in order,” he offered as he approached Steve’s desk, although it quickly became apparent he was in no mood to celebrate.

“Oh yeah, Javi, I’m such a fuckin’ hero,” Steve scoffed as he threw what appeared to be a handful of freshly developed photos across his desk towards Javier.

Javier scooped the photos up and leafed through them. They were images from the crime scene at La Dispensaria; three of them were of the dead sicarios, along with a fourth shot of a young woman Javier didn’t recognise. More collateral damage, he assumed. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Javier stared down at the photo for several seconds. “You need to shred these,” he instructed as he slid them back across the desk, before making to leave. He paused on the threshold of the doorway and turned to face Steve. “Do you know if Carrillo is still around?” He tried to ask as nonchalantly as he could manage in the circumstances, again relying on Steve being too distracted to question his sudden interest in the Colonel’s whereabouts.

“Yeah, he should be about somewhere. Try his office.” Steve pointed in the general direction of Horacio’s office, but still stared blankly at the photos in front of him.

“Right, thanks,” Javier replied vaguely, before leaving Steve to brood in peace.

He had stopped by Horacio’s office earlier, but the door was locked and the lights were off. He tried again and found the same, but given what he now knew, he gently knocked as well this time.

“Hey, are you in there? It’s me,” he all but whispered, not wanting to attract attention if he really was in hiding.

Much like the day he’d visited Horacio’s apartment, he heard the click of the lock on the other side of the door and let himself in, swiftly shutting it behind him and re-locking it.

He turned around to be met with the alarming sight of Horacio sitting back down at his desk with an open bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass in the other.

“What the fuck is going on?” Javier was unable to disguise the wobble in his voice as the looming sense of dread he’d tried to keep at bay was in danger of consuming him.

“They’re sending me to Spain. My superiors say I play too rough,” Horacio explained, not beating around the bush and confirming Javier’s worst fears. “It’s okay, you can say I told you so.” He let out a hollow laugh as he drained the amber liquid from his glass, before immediately refilling it.

Javier stood frozen in silence like a statue as Horacio’s words sunk in. Despite how much he’d worried about this very scenario happening, he couldn’t believe it was real; preferring to imagine he was still passed out on his couch and this was all a terrible nightmare.

“When?”

“Tomorrow is my last night in Medellín.”

“Right…well I guess that’s that then,” Javier replied dumbly following a prolonged silence, his brain shutting down as though it had been deprived of oxygen; the walls closing in on him, compressing and crushing his chest and his stupid fucking heart. He had to get out, to get away. He couldn’t look at Horacio, couldn’t talk or think, so he did the only thing he’d ever really known when it came to this area of his life. He bolted out of the door as fast as he could, leaving Horacio to drown his sorrows alone.

Horacio stood up with a sigh to re-lock the door, before sitting back down at his desk; head in his hands as he ran his fingers despairingly through his hair and pulled harshly at the strands in frustration. Everything hurt, despite the numerous measures of alcohol he’d thrown back in a bid to numb the pain. It was an all-consuming physical and mental torment, one that he’d administered to others plenty of times in order to get them to talk and one he couldn’t help but think he’d somehow ended up inflicting on himself. He would have said or done anything to be free of it if he could, but his fate was sealed now and it was too late. The damage was done and it appeared to have cost him everything.

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The next 24 hours passed in a daze; the pain now replaced with a hollow numbness that had spread throughout Javier’s body and weighed him down to the point of inertia. In a further cruel twist, he and Steve had been scheduled to fly to Medellín regardless of recent developments and seen as Horacio’s news wasn’t yet common knowledge, Javier realised they would still have to make the trip anyway.

He was silent for most of the flight, feigning sleep when Steve attempted to make conversation. It was bad enough he had to keep all of this from his partner, but he couldn’t deal with casual chat on top of all of the lies. He was trying to hold it together, but Steve wasn’t stupid and Javier figured sooner or later he’d be throwing awkward questions his way if he didn’t get a grip of himself.

Once they’d landed, they made their way to the Carlos Holguín School to find Horacio packing his belongings up in boxes and avoiding Javier’s gaze. It was the only way Horacio could deal with this without making things awkward and potentially obvious to Murphy. He’d gotten damn good at compartmentalising his life over the years, so why change a habit of a lifetime now?

Javier’s stomach violently lurched as he fought down the urge to retch and he had no idea how he was going to get through the next few minutes. He couldn’t look directly at Horacio for too long, but a quick glance confirmed how worse for wear he was. Dark circles and puffy eyes with an uneven smattering of stubble. If Javier didn’t know any better, he could have sworn the reflection from the brash artificial lights gave away the tell-tale glassy sheen on his pupils. He had to look away at this point, fixating instead on his right hand, which had been twitching in his lap since he’d sat down in front of Horacio’s desk. Not that it really was his desk anymore.

Javier sat wordlessly as Horacio filled Steve in, thankful for the conversation moving on to Escobar. Horacio passed around aerial shots from the Colombian military, showing Escobar had built himself a soccer field at his so-called ‘jail’. A bitter laugh escaped Javier’s throat, the only kind he could imagine himself capable of from now on. Despite everything they had been through and all the sicarios they had taken down, Escobar had still managed to pull off something of a victory and one of the people he feared the most was conveniently being sent away.

“Let’s face it, he won,” Horacio concluded with a resigned sigh and it was hard for Javier or Steve to disagree.

They eventually left Horacio to finish his packing in order to follow up on several leads on the aerial photos. They needed to find more proof that Escobar was violating the terms of his surrender and they had to find something fast for everyone’s sake.

Javier yet again found himself lying to Steve to cover his tracks, telling him he was having a goodbye drink with Horacio before meeting up with a ‘friend’. To Steve, that meant only one thing and he’d just laughed and rolled his eyes, not needing to know any more details as he’d heard more than enough stories to last him a lifetime about Javier’s fondness for brothels.

As Javier pulled up at the airport to drop Steve off for his flight back to Bogotá, Steve paused as he was getting out of the car, stooping down and leaning his head towards Javier.

“Listen Javi, is everythin’ alright? You’ve been moodier than usual lately even by your standards,” Steve asked, studying Javier’s face for any hints, but he drew a blank.

“Steve, I’m fine. Honestly. Just wiped out and fucked off with all this jail bullshit.” Deflection towards safer territory was all Javier had up his sleeve at this point, and even that was an effort when all he wanted was to be left alone.

“Tell me about it. It’s a fuckin’ sham. I’m sorry about Carrillo too. I know we haven’t, er, always seen eye-to-eye, but I know you guys are close.”

Javier froze, his stomach flip-flopping as he waited to see where this was going.

“Raise a glass to him from me. See you tomorrow and oh, have fun with your friend.” Steve winked before shutting the car door and allowing Javier to breathe a sigh of relief that his secret was still safe.

It was tempting to drive straight back to help Horacio clear out his things, but Javier wasn’t ready to face him yet. Instead, he drove to a secluded spot a short way out of town that he came to sometimes to clear his mind. He parked up and lit a cigarette, leaning back against the head rest as he exhaled and scrunching his eyes tightly shut in a bid to halt the hot prickling sensation in its tracks, but it was no use. It was all too much and he was too exhausted and broken to fight it any longer. He opened his eyes and finally let the tears fall.

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Horacio spent the rest of the afternoon clearing his office and saying goodbye to his men, before driving back to his apartment to start packing; although, he had surprisingly few possessions given how long he’d lived here. He’d never liked the fuss of nick-nacks about the place and most of his wardrobe consisted of neatly pressed uniforms, khakis and polo shirts, which didn’t take long to put in a suitcase. He supposed that was what coming from a long line of police officers instilled in a person and his father had certainly been a stickler for a regimented lifestyle.

As his thoughts drifted to his father, he instinctively reached under the collar of his shirt and clasped his fingers around the silver chain that rested there, before rolling his thumb over the crucifix pendant that hung from it. He held the cool metal in his hand for several moments, realising it was one of a few items of sentimental value he had left these days, along with some old family photo albums.

He noted with a painful twinge that he didn’t have any recent pictures of his family; largely due to the fact his mother had moved to the south to be nearer to his sister and her family, although he was eternally grateful they were far away from all of this. He didn’t have the heart to fill them in on what had been going on lately, preferring them to maintain the image they had of him as some sort of local hero, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.

He was pulled back to the present by a knock at the door, his heart leaping to his throat knowing full well who it would be.

“Hey,” Javier weakly offered as he stood looking hangdog in the doorway.

“Hey,” Horacio echoed back, the resignation heavy in his tone as he ushered Javier into his apartment.

They stood in the hallway in an awkward silence for several moments, before Javier stepped forwards, hooking his hands around Horacio’s waist and enveloping him in a tight embrace against his chest. Horacio’s arms instantly wrapped around Javier’s back as he buried his face into his shoulder and sighed wistfully.

They clung together for a long while, before moving to the bedroom, where they spent the majority of the time they had left wrapped in each other; every sensation, sound, taste and touch tainted with a bittersweet ache that was impossible to ignore.

Javier lay tucked into Horacio’s side once they were spent, his arm strewn over his bare chest as his fingers traced his skin, memorising as much as he could before moving up to fondle the chain that had remained around Horacio’s neck all evening.

“My father gave that to me when I first joined the police,” Horacio offered unprompted. “He was a cop too. He passed away not long after, but he was so proud when I got accepted. Always wanted me to follow in his footsteps. I haven’t worked a day without wearing it.” He paused again to take a deep breath. “I’d like you to have it.”

Javier sat up suddenly, shock and confusion etched deeply into his face. “What? Horacio, no, I can’t. I couldn’t – I mean – it wouldn’t be right.”

“Of course you can. I think you’re gonna need it more than me.” Horacio’s features softened further, revealing a fraction of a smile and warm eyes in an attempt to rid Javier of the fear from his own.

“Horacio, I can’t. You really think your father would want it round the neck of a gringo like me? I don’t fucking deserve it.” Javier let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head in bewilderment as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and reached for the safety net of his lighter and cigarettes.

“What if it was more of a loan then? You can give it back to me when this is all over.”

On the surface, it seemed like a practical solution to a minor problem, but Javier didn’t miss the deeper implications of the proposal.

So, Horacio only saw this as a temporary separation? He presumably envisaged some sort of future scenario where they would see each other again; a possibility that completely threw Javier. He had tried not to question what had been going on these last few months, but rather take it for what it realistically and most likely was. A part of him had assumed it was more of a coping mechanism for the two of them given the extreme circumstances they were living under. He’d pushed down any feelings that contradicted that theory, telling himself not to be so fucking stupid and that surely Horacio of all people knew what he was like when it came to relationships. He’d made no secret of what he did to Lorraine all those years ago, so he couldn’t fathom why anyone who was in possession of all the facts would still want to be with him.

“Horacio…” was all Javier could manage in response as his finger hesitated over his lighter, still rendered speechless by the magnitude of what Horacio was offering.

Before Javier could argue back further, Horacio reached to unfasten his necklace. He moved behind Javier and gently hung the chain around the front of his chest; his breath catching in his throat as he secured the clasp. A simple act in isolation, but loaded with so much more beneath the surface. Horacio couldn’t help but think back to their disagreement in Cartagena and more specifically the words he’d regretted the most. He hoped this helped to make up for it, to make Javier see that he did have family in Colombia after all.

“It suits you,” Horacio whispered against Javier’s ear as he pressed light kisses across the back of his neck.

Javier clutched at the cold metal that was now set against his hot skin, before turning his head to capture Horacio’s lips in a searing kiss and pushing him back down on the bed.

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Javier fell asleep in Horacio’s arms, but woke with a start in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark outside, apart from the orange-yellow glow of the streetlights casting shadows around the bedroom. He untangled himself from Horacio as discreetly as possible, so as not to wake him and lit up as he stood by the window. The streets below were quiet, only the odd car rumbling passed sporadically, but his thoughts were loud and intrusive.

He was still mulling over Horacio’s words and the necklace, or more what the gesture symbolised; or at least what he thought it might symbolise. His mind drifted back to Tolú and Cartagena and the drastic actions he’d taken to protect Horacio. He recalled the aftermath of the botched raid; how he’d cooked for him and cared for him when he was at his most vulnerable. Then there were all the times he’d passed on intel he wasn’t authorised to share and followed his lead despite knowing it could get him fired at the drop of a hat.

That was when it hit him square in the chest like a stray bolt of lightning out of the blue. His own actions symbolised the very same thing as the necklace. Something that he simultaneously wanted to run towards and away from and it had been that way his entire life. It had always felt safer for everyone involved to keep moving, even if it meant he ended up alone.

But regardless of how conflicted Javier was about his own feelings and no matter how much he regretted not doing more to stop it coming to this, the painful, unjust reality was Horacio was leaving in a few hours and he had no idea when or if he was going to see him again.

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

By the time Horacio awoke, sunlight was beginning to stream through the windows; a stark contrast to the darkness of his mood as the events of the last few days came flooding back to him.

He rolled over wondering if Javier was still asleep, but found his side of the bed cold and empty and the apartment silent. That was when he noticed it out of the corner of his eye; the light bouncing off a metallic object on the nightstand.

Horacio’s heart shattered before he’d even leaned across to confirm his suspicions. The necklace lay abandoned, with a scrawled note next to it that simply read “I’m sorry.”

He stared down at the note before balling it up tightly in his fist, his vision already blurring and his chest stuttering as everything hit him all at once. Not only had he lost his job and home and any chance of catching Escobar, he had seemingly also lost the man he loved.

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fan fic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fiction #My Fan Fic #My Narcos fic

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jacaranda-bloom · 3 years

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FIC WRITER QUESTIONS

Thank you to the lovely @allwaswell16 @runaway-train-works @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed @uhoh-but-yeah-alright and @evilovesyou for tagging me to answer some questions about my writing.

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

901,445 (Hoping to hit the Magic Million by the end of the year!)

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

1 (One Direction)

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

When Tomorrow Comes 1155

The Baby Whisperer 950

Love, Ever After 898

Harry Poppins 856

Play Me A Memory 760

More under the cut…

5) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oh gosh. Uhm. I don’t really write angsty endings? All my fics have Happy Endings and most have epilogues to round them out and tie them up in a bow. Perhaps I’d say If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) purely because (spoiler ahead) the epilogue is written 100 years into the future so they’ve both passed.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Interestingly, I would actually say the answer is the same as above, If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow). The epilogue is so uplifting and I cry happy tears every time I re-read it. It’s written from the POV of their granddaughter and you get to see the world they had a hand in changing for the better through her eyes, so you get a sense of how impactful their lives were on the rest of society. Oof, tearing up right now just thinking about it.

7) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Yeah, I have actually. I really enjoy doing new takes on an existing universes, although they aren’t always the easiest thing to pull off tbh. I’m not sure which I would say is the craziest, but the hardest to write was definitely The Peter Pan/Hook AU.

Harry Poppins - Loosely based on the book/movie Mary Poppins, but without any magical aspects.

Playing To Win - Set in the Big Brother house.

The Pirate and The Piper - A Peter Pan/Hook AU which I took a lot of liberties with.

In The Still Of The Night - My Dirty Dancing AU.

A Hungry Heart - This is a Great British Bake Off AU that is due out in September for the Cliche Fic Fest!

8) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Whoa Nelly. Yeah, I do. All the time. Every fic actually. There’s only one, Exposed, the only fic I’ve published that’s not rated Explicit and doesn’t have smut. But, to be fair, the challenge was to write exactly 666 words and I still managed to get the implication in there. Plus, Louis was naked and Harry was applying body paint for the majority of the story, so like, I think I can get a free pass on that one - I tried!

In terms of what type of smut, I guess it varies depending on the story. I tend not to push the boat out too far, but I do dabble in BDSM in quite a few of my fics. A recurring theme in the comments I receive is that my smut scenes are well constructed and detailed, without being too tedious or drawn out, which is lovely feedback to get because they can be challenging to write.

9) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Absolutely. Every single one.

10) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not often, people are usually so kind, but there have been a couple.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of!

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, quite a lot, particularly on Wattpad, all with my full consent. That said, I’m thinking of stopping this because it’s getting a bit out of hand and I’ve been feeling uncomfortable about it recently for various reasons that I won’t bore you with here.

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

Nope! I don’t think it’s really my thing tbh. I get very in my head about writing and struggle even to brainstorm or share too much until I’m well into a story.

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

Of the 47 fics I’ve written, there are 45 Larry, 1 Narry, and 1 Louis/Dermot O’Leary (I think mine is still the only fic with this ship hahahaa), so that’s probably a good indication of my fave writing ship.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have one lonely WIP sitting on AO3 from 2018. I keep promising myself I’ll finish it and it’s on my schedule every year, then I get distracted by other fics/fests and it gets pushed back. Plus, it needs a complete rewrite because my style has developed so much since I started it, so it’ll be a big job. Based on that, I think that the fic, in its current form, won’t ever be finished as the rewrite will completely wipe out what it was, although the underlying plot will still be there.

16) What are your writing strengths?

World building (or so I’m often told). I write very visually and people often say they can imagine the scene exactly, or that it’s like a movie, or that they think it’s actually a real place I’m describing, when most of the time it absolutely isn’t, it’s just something I’ve created in my weird brain.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue (although my lovely beta disagrees) and telling rather than showing. They’re both things I’m actively working on.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’ve never really considered it. It’s not something I’d shy away from necessarily, but it’s just never come up.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

One Direction. First and only.

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Wow. This is really tough because it changes over time. I find that once I’ve finished a fic I don’t want to revisit it for a few months because I’m kind of over it. But I find comfort in them after a while, like I get to go back to that happy place and immerse myself in that world and the characters again, similar to catching up with an old friend. It’s familiar. I think I also like different stories for different reasons and I’m drawn to various ones depending on my mood. My top 3 (although, ask me next week and the list will probably be completely different!) would probably be:

1. If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow). Written for the hybrid fic fest (a fest I created just for this fic lol). It’s not everyone’s cup of tea due to the hybrid aspect, but it’s one of the stories I feel is the most rounded from a character development perspective and the world building was pretty epic, if I can be so bold as to throw that out there myself!

2. No Going Back. One of my Big Bangs from 2020. I adore the way their relationship develops in this fic and the setting (as remote lighthouse keepers) was such a lot of fun to write. Plus I got to collaborate with an amazing artist who created an entire website as an accompanying travel blog which was truly wonderful.

3. From The Heart. This is a series I wrote for wordplay back in 2019. I had no idea that what I was doing was so unusual and so meta by having Louis essentially write for the equivalent of wordplay in the fic. It was such an fun way to share my writing process and challenges I encounter (exactly how many synonyms tabs do I have open at any one time?!) and I thoroughly enjoyed the outcome (although getting there was definitely a struggle).

This was really fun and thanks to anyone who made it this far! Writing brings me so much joy and is a wonderful outlet for all the imaginings in my head, so I appreciate everyone who supports me and joins me on that journey.

I’m pretty late with this and I’m not sure who has already done it but I’ll tag @fallinglikethis @homosociallyyours @lululawrence @reminiscingintherain and @beau-soleil-louis if they’d like to do this and haven’t already.

#August 13 2021 #fic writer questions #tag games #this was really fun!

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zeppelin-and-unicorns · 4 years

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Fanfic recommendations part two: Stories that take place during season 8 (canon divergence)

This is a smaller category than the previous one, but I promise that those stories are amazing. I’ve read and reread every single one of them, and I love them all with all of my heart. I hope this post is useful to you. Lots of love ❤️

(And yes, they are in alphabetical order. I wish I’ve done that with the post season 8 post too, but it’s up for a while now and it would be just too much work to edit the whole thing)

All These Things That I’ve Done by c00kiefic

Story based on the sexual tension between Jackie and Hyde during season 8.

This story is complete.

26k words, 9 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Don’t Stand so Close to Me by c00kiefic

A story when Eric came back way earlier than he planned to because his friends were being dumbasses and needed some direction. Gotta love Eric Forman.

This story is complete and it’s a super fun read, 10/10.

95k words, 24 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna, Kelso/Brooke, background Red/Kitty

Fear and Loathing in Wisconsin by elphabacan

What if Jackie had decided enough was enough after the slumberparty with Donna and Sam and recruited Brooke to go to Vegas? And what if turnabout is fairplay when they run afoul a charming lounge singer named Jude?

Lots and lots of love for this story. It’s amazing and it’s complete.

42k words, 15 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Brooke/Kelso

Get Away From The Edge by BlueZeppelin

Jackie has been down for a while and it leads her to the Water Tower, alone and depressed. She wants to jump but will Hyde let her?

This story is kind of sad, but it’s still good. I just wish it gave us more details. Don’t read it if you’re triggered by depressive thoughts. It’s complete.

5k words, 3 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

I Think it’s a Real Waste by Jaded

In which Fez and Donna are decent friends to Jackie, and Hyde knows he fucked up. There’s a lot of J/H, but the story also focuses on all the gang. This is a really good story, please read this.

This story is complete.

120k words, 13 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna, Brooke/Kelso, Fez/OC

Into the Woods by c00kiefic

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess with long raven hair and enchanting eyes, whose only desire was to be loved by the handsome, yet distant prince…

I absolutely adore this story, I really, really do. It reminds me of fairytales and it makes me want to cry at the same time. Also, both Hyde and Donna get an not so pleasant “wake up call”, that they rightfully deserved btw.

This story is complete.

41k words, 10 chapters.

Rated T

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde mainly, some background Eric/Donna angst

Pain Without Love by YouLivexYouDie

This story made me cry so hard. It has a happy ending though, so it was worth it.

Jackie Burkhart is about to experience something life changing. She will never be the same afterwards, nor will the people who love her.

This story is complete.

12k words, 3 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Confession by heavinly-vixen

After the torture Hyde had been inflicting upon Jackie since the arrival of his 'wife', Jackie just needs to talk to someone who's on her side.

This story is complete and it has a sequel! It’s called Reconciliation and it’s also complete.

12k words, 9 chapters.

Rated T. The sequel is rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Made Bare by MistyMountainHop

A heartbroken Hyde considers his relationship with Jackie kaput. Too bad Jackie sees it differently. She intends to get a proper resolution with him, but breaking through his hostility — and getting past his wife — may well prove impossible.

This story is complete.

50k words, 8 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Eric/Donna

Also available on AO3

Someone To Love by Bunny1

Hyde comes back from his 3 month bender to the unexpected.

This story is complete.

6k words, 7 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

The Birds and The Bees by c00kiefic

Jackie’s pregnant and the father of her child is married to someone else. Amazing story, what I love the most about it is Jackie and Donna’s friendship.

This story is basically complete, the only thing missing is the epilogue.

22k words, 6 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna

The Right Road Lost by zpplnchick

After a car accident, Hyde wakes up to a twisted version of reality he comes to find is actual hell and with no memory of how he got there, a hell that Jackie's been living in for the past few months. Set during Season 8, shortly after "Sweet Lady".

This story is complete.

43k words, 20 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

The Road to Redemption by Hyde’s Bride

Jackie leaves the group because of Hyde and Donna's behavior. Eric comes back early to find how things have changed. When he forms a new bond with Jackie, will it force Hyde and Donna to fight for them? Or will they lose their loves forever?

This story is complete.

33k words, 12 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Jackie/Eric, Eric/Donna

When The Leeve Breaks by zeppelinandunicorns

What would've happened if Jackie and Donna left Point Place when Eric moved to Africa and Hyde married a stripper?

Donna and Jackie moved to Chicago once they realized that they've sacrificed themselves enough for the sake of their relationships with Eric and Hyde. Will it be too late to fix things once the boys realize what they're missing?

This story is a WIP.

So far, 125k words, 23 chapters. This story will be 54 chapters long so... yeah.

Trigger warning: Depression, past eating disorders, child abuse

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna

Zen Vision by Ultrawoman

A series of one-shots turning each and every episode of the horrendous Season 8 into a happy Jackie and Hyde love affair!

This story is complete.

37k words, 22 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

One-shots during season 8:

Being Here by UnfitWriter

Set in season 8, after Sam's departure. Jackie and Hyde can't stand each other, but when something horrible happens to Hyde, Jackie will try to console him in only way she knows how.

5k words.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Here Comes Goodbye by nannygirl

Sometimes you just have to say goodbye. Or not.

5k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Red/Kitty

Reconnecting by SerenitySparrow

During the party at WB's house in season 8. Jackie and Hyde hook up in a coat closet during the party.

3k words.

Rated M. Very M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Tipping Point by janus_74 (tanner)

How a different Perfect Man list could change the end of Season 8.

4k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

So far, this is all.

I’ll repeat this at the end of every single post: speaking as someone who writes, it would be really cool if you guys decide to leave a review (or a comment, if the story is on AO3) in the stories you read, especially the unfinished ones. It really motivates the authors, and receiving a compliment is always a mood lifter. I’ve seen some authors updating stories after years because of nice reviews, so… yeah, this is just an idea.

If you think I left out a good story, feel free to reply to this post!

Next category: Season 7 fix-its.

#jackie x hyde #jackie and hyde #fanfic rec #zenmasters #that 70s show #that '70s show #fanfic recommendations

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whirlybirdwhat · 3 years

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Heyo~ I just wanted to say that your fanfics have inspired me to write my owns, they're so good!!

But my writing isn't nearly as good, do you have any advices for this starting writer? <3

oh my gosh anon !!!!!! im ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ !! im so glad they inspire you, and I wish you all the best on your writing!!! you got this, and please link them if/when you post!!!! 👀👀👀

as for advice - i got a few things!

first off, your writing is yours, and - especially in fic - there isn't necessarily a type of 'good' writing, just different skill sets! for instance, i find that my weak point is dialogue, while im great at worldbuilding + emotions. another writer might be the opposite, but it doesn't mean my writing is 'bad' and theirs is 'good' or the reverse, simply that we have different strengths! as you grow as a writer, you will find your strengths and learn to grow them, and your weak points! there is truly no standard, so don't put yourself down!!

moving on to more advice however - (EDIT: theres a tldr at the bottom because sorry, i rambled a bit!!)

1. write. it doesn't matter where, it doesn't matter when, it doesn't matter how! I have written fics on sticky notes in the middle of class (whiskey peak chapter of esom) on discord in the span of a few hours (make a choice (turncoat hero)) and in my notes apps (the ace/yamato fic i posted)!! if you learn to write anywhere you please, this will keep ideas from leaving your mind, and allow you to get into the zone that there doesn't have to be a set time to write!

2. length never matters for a fic. If 100 words is all it takes to write what you want to write, then 100 words is all it takes! don't let the general adoration for long fics to scare you off from writing, and write what you're comfortable with. I know writers who only write chapter fics, and writers who will only write one shots (then there's me, who tries to do both at once lol.)

3. when i am lost with the plot of a fic, the first thing i do is draft an outline of what i want to happen next. this is just a simple bullet point outline, in the general fashion of, say

- luffy gets a different hat post pirate king

- monkey steals hat

- luffy calls for zoro

- zoro sleeping?? sanji kicks him then fight

- the monkey is revealed as the red haired pirates monkey

- shanks shows up "miss me anchor?" party time

brief, follows a simple set of actions, perhaps one or two lines that i thought of while writing, and gives me a skeleton to follow so that when i lose myself in a fic i know where i can go next. Some people find it useful to do this at the beginning with a super detailed plot, and others never write a outline at all! it depends again on how you grow as a writer, so don't be afraid to try different things out when you approach a fic

4. stuck on a part? writer block? can't focus? get up drink a glass of water, and get back to writing! i find this helps me get refocused on writing when i am stuck, a little body 'wake up' as you will.

5. never EVER delete a scene from a fic. never. NEVER. move that scene to another doc, put it in a 'scrapped writing' folder, idc, but never delete it entirely. it helps you grow as a writer, and you can always put the scene back/reword it, etc. i cannot count on my hands how many times i have reworked a previously scrapped portion of a fic and came out the better for it!

6. having multiple wips is okay!! celebrate it even!! i always have at least five docs for five separate fics up on my computer at all times so i can shuffle between them when writing and write what im inspire for in that moment. its okay if you never make headway on one of them, as long as the ideas keep flowing

7. want to get something out quick? word wars are your friend - set a timer for 15 minutes, and write as many words as you can. this is especially fun if you have someone doing it with you, so you can compare counts at the end and share your story!!

8. writing, like all art, takes time. and, generally, there is a chance you will write faster when you first set out to write then you will later, because later, you will be more conscious of your word choices and be more deliberate and careful in your plot, rather than just churning out works. It's okay if you don't churn out 5k a day - writing is not an obligation!

9. have. fun. im serious! write what you want to write, even if it seems no one will love it or like it or want to read it - write what brings you joy, what makes you smile, even if it's something that's been done a thousand times before!! this is what fic is, for your own personal enjoyment. Additionally, do not be discouraged if there's a low amount of reviews for something you put your heart and soul. it sucks ass, yes, (i have a couple fics i love which have only gotten like, a quarter of attention of some of my other fics) but ultimately, the idea you wrote down is one you want to see in the world!! it doesn't quite matter what anyone else likes.

10. grammarly, word counter, word, etc - anything with a spellcheck is your best friend, and will generally catch things you miss if you cant find someone to proofread for you. additionally, if you want to be more critical of your fic, look for friends tto give constructive critcism, but know that you absolutely do not have to accept it from any stranger online unless you asked specifically for it.

11. fanon is fanon and popular headcanons are popular headcanons and both are absolutely not canon. you do NOT have to follow it if you do not want to.

12. read!!! i read a lot of fic, a lot of published books, and each has something i really enjoy and apply to my own fics.

13. to reiterate again just... write. write and write and write. i have over 300k posted to ao3 rn, and more in my docs. you will not improve your writing to any standard that you set for yourself unless you write!! always practice!! learn from your mistakes!! grow!!! you will improve with time, i promise, just go out and write what makes you happy anon!!

tl;dr have fun, write a lot wherever and whenever, and write for yourself before anyone else. you will improve with time as a writer the more you practice, and it doesn't ever matter how long your work is.

if you want more specific advice on formatting fic/general rules/ your first time posting, feel free to send another ask!! but for now, i wish you the best of luck anon and a very 👀👀👀👀 at your future fics!!!

#that was #so much rambling i am sorry but i do hope its helpful!!#whirlywhat #whirlyanswers #advice #writing #fic writing advice #fic advice

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little-smartass · 3 years

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20 Questions: Writer’s Edition

tagged by the wonderful @dotsayers

answers under the cut!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

29 if you combine both pseuds

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

oh god you are asking me to do maths at this time of the morning??? the total comes to 280,707 (holy shit)

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

I have written for the untamed, vampire chronicles, les mis, star trek, discworld and xmen on ao3, and on The Site Which Must Not Be Named I posted fic for the edge chronicles, harry potter, and teen titans. I also posted edge chronicles and teen titans and beyblade fics on dA and various forums back in the day.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All In at 1636 kudos

Into The Open Air at 335 kudos

Where There's A Will, There's A Road at 249 kudos

The Slow Path at 207 kudos

Of the Gold-Clad Behinds of Patricians at 177

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't really do angsty endings, because I'm baby, but the les trekkables fic you have and always will be ends with R dying (though as it's a star trek crossover you know Enjolras will figure out how to bring him back), and Soulmate Words and Solemn Promises is pretty sad but I'd say more bittersweet than angsty?

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

oh boy, I'm gonna have to say All In - I am honestly very proud of the epilogue, sometimes I reread it when I want to be emotionally devastated in a good way l m a o

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I do! difficult to say the craziest, as I feel like that's a matter of opinion, but I've written the aforementioned les trekkables with @dotsayers, as well as our dearly beloved but never published wondrous les hogwables (les mis/harry potter). @xaviersass and I workshopped about a million crossover AUs, including but not limited to xmen/grease, xmen/mr&mrs smith, xmen/suits, xmen/austen, xmen/potc, xmen/frozen, xmen/titanic, xmen/love punch, xmen/RED, xmen/aristocats, xmen/friends, and last but certainly not least, xmen/scooby doo :)

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

uhhh no. I would maybe be open to writing it, but not on my own askjdldsjkg it is too easy to make me cringe I would simply wimp out.

9. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I only respond to comments if the commenter asks a specific question I feel needs answering. why? I guess because I don't really expect authors to respond to me when I leave comments, I see it as more like the tag system on tumblr - a sort of passive feedback-like interaction?

10. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

yes, but only from that one asshole troll who was surfing the vc side of ao3 for a while

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

uhhh not that I know of?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

mmm not that I can think of

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

yep! I've co-written with @dotsayers on several les mis pieces, both published and not, as well as co-written with @xaviersass on some unpublished xmen stuff, and @spicyshimmy-blog on All In. I am currently co-writing with @ellethinthewoods on our MONSTER of an untamed AU. I really really enjoy co-writing!!!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship to write for?

oh man, uh... that's a tough one. I don't feel like I can really give a definitive answer, as whichever ship is my current obsession will always feel like my favourite haha! though kirk/spock was definitely good fun, and I really enjoyed writing nieyao in Where There's A Will, There's A Road

15. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

hmmm. there will always be a place in my heart for les hogwables ngl, as well as the fireman azazel AU, but I am legit gutted I never finished the human!loustat fic... maybe one day, when that hyperfixation inevitably rears its head again ;_;

16. What are your writing strengths?

I find dialogue very easy to churn out, and I have been told that I have a very cinematic style of describing scenes, but I think my biggest strength is my STUBBORNNESS when I decide I am going to finish a fic, and I am good at sticking to writing deadlines

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

oh boy, I would say action sequences, and also REMEMBERING TO DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER'S SURROUNDINGS. I tend to intensely focus on the characters and their interactions and that can often really bog the plot down... if there even is a plot...

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I've thrown in bits and pieces of french in VC fics, but I'm not really confident in any other languages to do full dialogue without a native speaker advising me

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

ahhhh BEYBLADE my beloved

20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

oh hmmm, tough one. All In is definitely up there, as is The Slow Path, but honestly I will go back and reread One Week, Things That You Can't Say Tomorrow Day, and Balance all the time if I want cheering up. the as yet unnamed absolute sprawling behemoth of an untamed AU is absolutely gonna be my fave once it's done tho.

tagging @guqin-and-flute, @adorablecrab, @justkeeptrekkin, and @vraik + @goth-mabel, if they fancy doing this!

#irl #THANKS FOR THE TAG ROSIE <3 #this was fun #about me

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writingquestionsanswered · 4 years

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Hey, this question might be a bit unusual and I already appreciate all the help. I don't seem to be able to actually write my story (stupid mechanical writers block), but I do like to still do things related to my story. I have done moodboards and casting and a few other things. But I want to do more things, but I don't know what. Any tips on book-related things I can do while trying to overcome writers-block (besides moodboard and playlists)? Sorry if this is a bit confusing :)

Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists

1) Draw a Map or Make a Layout - try making a map of wherever your story takes place, whether that’s a town, kingdom, or a whole country or world. You can even draw layouts of things like high schools, houses, or other buildings in your story. Not only are they fun to do, but it can be a helpful tool for visualizing your setting, and sometimes it can lead to ideas about scenes or plot points.

2) Do a Character Interview - imagine that you’ve pulled your character out of a story into the room and now have the opportunity to interview them. What questions would you ask them? What do you want to know about them that you don’t already know? What do you think the reader would want to know? What might be pertinent to the story that you haven’t thought about yet?

3) Do a TV Crew Follow Around - no matter when or where your story takes place, imagine that you’ve dropped an invisible TV crew into your story’s world to follow your character around through an average day. Follow them from the moment they wake up until the moment they go to bed that night. What are they like when they wake up? What is their morning routine? What do they eat for breakfast? How do they get ready? What do they do throughout the day? Who do they interact with? What else do they eat and drink? What do they do for fun or relaxation? How to they make money or meet their basic needs? What is their bedtime routine like?

4) POV Character Switch - take a scene in your story and try writing it from the perspective of a different character in the scene. If you do it with a scene you’ve already written, it can help you understand your characters and their relationship better, and might even give you things you can use in other scenes. If you do it with a scene you haven’t written yet, it can help you understand the scene better, make you excited to write it from the planned POV, and can even potentially help you get unstuck.

5) Story POV/Tense Switch - try rewriting a scene or chapter using a different POV (try first-person or third-person limited if your story is in third-person omniscient.) Or, try switching the tense. If you’re writing your story in past tense, try writing a scene or chapter in present tense. This is really just a fun exercise, but sometimes you may find that a different tense or POV actually works better, and that can sometimes be the thing that gets you unstuck.

6) Letter from One Character to Another - choose a moment or event in your story that you haven’t written about yet, but which you have pretty well planned out. Now, imagine that one character in the scene writes a letter to another character in the scene, but it’s a letter they never plan to send. What would they say to that character about whatever happened that they wish they could tell them but can’t?

7) Try a Writing Tool - there are all kinds of interesting writing tools out there, both online and things, apps, and physical things. Story Cubes, plot generators, plot twist generators, the Storymatic, StoryForge, Story Dice, tarot cards, the Writer’s Toolbox… just to name a few!

8) Do a Writing Prompt with Your Characters or Setting - look for some good writing prompts, then try doing one but use your character/s, setting, or both. You may have to augment the prompt a little. The point of this is just to open your mind to things you might not think about in the realm your story currently occupies.

9) Do a Favorite Character/Story Swap - Try swapping one of your characters into a scene in a favorite story, or try swapping a favorite character into a scene in your story. Once again, this kind of exercise can get you to thinking about things that wouldn’t occur to you that might actually benefit your story in the long run.

10) Figure out what’s making you feel stuck - Loss of motivation is pretty common when writing, but it can be caused a lot of different things. If you can figure out what’s holding you back, fixing it can get you back on track again.

Story needs more planning - some stories require more planning than others, and some writers just aren’t good “pantsers” and always need to plan. If you’ve lost motivation in your story, it could be because you’re feeling lost, not really knowing what should happen next. In that case, it can be a good idea to take a step back and do a little planning. Have a look at different story structures and story planning methods (like Save the Cat! and The Snowflake Method) to see if they can help you plan things out a little better. Just remember, you never have to stick to a template or method exactly. Use them as a guideline but make them work for you.

Something isn’t working - sometimes we lose motivation with writing a story because something about it isn’t working, and we may be well aware of that fact or it may be something we’re only aware of subconsciously. Either way, it can help to go back through what you’ve written so far and see if there’s something that’s just not pulling its weight. It could be an unnecessary character dragging the story down, a subplot that is cluttering up the story or drawing attention away from the main plot, or it could even be a scene (or multiple scenes) that don’t add to the story. It could even be a combination of these things, so if you can figure out what it is and fix it, that can often rekindle your motivation.

“Life stuff” is interfering - one of the biggest motivation zappers writers have to deal with is general life stuff. If you have a lot going on at the moment, such as a hectic time at work or school, are in the middle of a big project, you or a loved one are sick, or you’re dealing with anxiety and/or depression, you may simply not be in the mood to work on your story. Writers love to pump ourselves and each other up by saying things like “are you writing” or “get your butt in the chair” and talking about how we need to write every day, but the truth of the matter is there’s no shame in not writing if you have other things going on. Just promise yourself you’ll recommit to your WIP as soon as things calm down.

You’re distracted - if there are other things competing for your attention, like that series you’ve been binge-watching, that new book you bought, or that other story idea you came up with, it could be zapping your motivation. In this case, you just have to figure out how to plan your time so that you can indulge in the thing drawing your attention away while still having time to write. If it’s another story idea, you may not want to start on another project while in the middle of your WIP, in which case you should just take a little while to write down everything you’ve already got in mind, then set it aside someplace safe so you can come back to it later. Quite often that’s enough to get it of your mind.

You’re just bored with your story - if you’ve been working on a story for a long time, it’s pretty understandable that you might feel a little bored with it. In this case, keep trying the exercises I listed above.

————————————————————————————————-

Have a question? My inbox is always open, but make sure to check my FAQ and post master lists first to see if I’ve already answered a similar question. :)

#writing #writing tips #writeblr #writing advice #wqaadvice

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goldrushzukka · 4 years

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1, 2, 7, 8, 9. (Sorry, i know that's like...all of them)

1. what themes would you like to write about that you feel don’t get explored very often?

i love writing coming out storylines. it’s not really that they’re uncommon, i just find a lot of catharsis in them.

2. what are some common elements of stories you are tired of seeing? what would you avoid writing about?

i tend to avoid writing sibling dynamics bc i’m an only child and therefore not really. qualified. i love reading it though!!

7. favourite description in your WIP?

it was really hard to pick one so i have a few answers for this bc i love to talk about myself so. (under the cut bc JESUS this got long but spoilers for and i’ll do anything you say (read it here!) ahead!!!)

- from chapter 2:

Sokka looks at him, a fantasy come to life, and takes off his stupid sweatpants.

He throws them at Zuko’s head, and earns himself a short burst of that real laugh, shocked and unguarded.

“You asshole,” Zuko says. He sits up and grabs Sokka’s hand, pulling him down on top of him. Something comes alive under Sokka’s skin where Zuko’s fingers graze his wrist. He calls it lust and ignores the fact that it feels nothing like it.

Zuko kisses him, his mouth still in the shape of laughter, and the alive thing screams for his attention. Sokka buries it and hopes it won’t deafen him before they’re done.

im very fond of this whole chapter (i think it’s probably my favourite? it was definitely the easiest to write) but i really love looking back on this part particularly now that we’re in the angsty part of the story bc this is where it all started. yes technically it started in chapter 1 but this is when sokka starts to fall for zuko. this is the beginning of all those pesky non-casual feelings that he’s going to pretend don’t exist until someone else calls him out on them.

- also from chapter 2:

He’s forty-five minutes late already, and when he knocks, a woman made of pursed lips and sharp angles answers the door. She looks elegant and expensive the same way a skyscraper does. Or a cache of medieval weaponry.

“Oh,” Sokka says, digging into his pocket to find the map on his phone. “I must have the wrong place, sorry -”

She looks him up and down, her eyes narrowed in a way that feels violent and practiced, and her smirk turns distasteful. Sokka risks a glance down at himself, at his torn up jeans - not distressed, just torn - and the Madonna t-shirt he’s pretty sure actually belongs to Katara, and thinks she might have a point. The bag in his hand feels heavier when her eyes land on it.

“Zuzu,” the woman calls into the apartment, “your dinner’s here.”

“I didn’t order -” Zuko appears in the doorway, bitter frustration in his expression as he looks at the woman.

His eyes fall on Sokka, though, and his face clears into a light-pollution smile.

this is technically two so i will start with: i love azula. i haven’t found any room to bring her back yet but believe me i am LOOKING. she’s hot and mean and gay and i LOVE HER. oh also insider scoop but suki’s date from earlier in this chapter.......WAS azula. they probably won’t see each other again because once azula met sokka and connected his face to the Best Friends Forever picture frame on suki’s desk she stopped answering the phone.

pt 2: i’ve had a couple of comments mention the “light-pollution smile” line specifically and i am always so happy to read them bc yeah. YEAH. i’ll admit it. that line HITS.

- from chapter 4:

He sets his phone down - only, he doesn’t. He misses the table by a mile, and in his scramble to catch his phone before it breaks on the hardwood floor and wakes Momo on the cushion beside him, his hand finds the lip of his cereal bowl, and then that’s falling, too. He manages to catch the phone, but something in his head gets lost in translation on its way down his arms, and he ends up with a boxers-only lap full of soggy Cheerios.

Momo gets a splash of milk on his back and hisses at Zuko for his crimes, and somehow that’s the worst part of it.

haley @fruitysokka said that this passage reads like an action movie and i think about it all the time. (thank u haley i love u)

- lastly this extended metaphor from chapter 6:

The soup is good, once the heat of it clears him up enough to taste it. It’s thick and warm and there’s enough pepper that Sokka gets a kick from it even in his condition. He feels it all the way down his throat and into his stomach, where it mixes with the prickly nervousness he’s feeling from Zuko’s attention.

He sets the bowl down on the table and asks, eyes stuck on his hands in Momo’s fur where he’s climbed into his lap, “How was the date?”

“It was good, actually,” Zuko says. “Jet seems like a nice guy. He’s very - uh - passionate, I guess you could call it? He’s a climate and human rights activist.”

The spines of Sokka’s nervousness turn to daggers.

...

“I said yes. We’re getting lunch on Sunday.”

The daggers are swords now, and Sokka’s heart sinks down, down, down, right to the hilt.

...

“I’ll text you when I’m home,” Zuko promises, and Sokka’s heart skewers itself on a second sword.

Zuko’s smile when Sokka says, “Thank you for the soup,” is a third.

The door closing behind him is a fourth.

The silence as Sokka shuffles back to bed is every single one that remains.

something something canon swordsmen something pride comes before the fall something chivalry fell on his sword from eden by hozier. you guys get it i dont have to explain myself

8. favourite dialogue in your WIP?

ok so i cant share my actual favourite dialogue bc it's a spoiler for chapter 8 and i technically haven't written it yet (it's in my brain just.....plaguing me) but it's GOOD i SWEAR so. once again i have more than one answer bc actually? i love this fic and im proud of it. deal with it.

- from chapter 1:

“Hey, stranger,” Sokka says, still watching him in the mirror. The corner of Zuko’s mouth ticks up.

“You’re not following me, are you?” Zuko’s tone is seductive, endlessly so, and Sokka wonders while he dries his hands if he has to put it on or if he just sounds like that.

“You give a guy one compliment and he thinks you’re stalking him,” Sokka mutters, and Zuko laughs, low and enticing. Not the genuine, endearing laugh of this morning, but one with an agenda.

Well. Sokka always likes a plan.

“Are you following me? ” Sokka asks. He spies a miraculous dry patch on the sink bank and tries to be casual about the way he hops up to sit on it.

“I might be,” Zuko says, and at Sokka’s raised eyebrow, he continues, “I saw you at the bar and I wanted to talk to you. Sue me.”

“You wanted to talk.”

“Amongst other things.”

as a chronically awkward person i am INSANELY proud of the flirting in this fic. no idea if it would work in a real life situation. excited to never find out bc im not about to use lines from my fanfiction on real women.

- from chapter 2

“You must be Suki,” Zuko says. He meets her gaze, and his fingers go still under Momo’s chin.

“And you’re Zuko,” Suki replies, her smile all different shades of intimidating. “I’d shake your hand, but I know where it’s just been.”

i wrote this entire scene just so i could have suki say this. im not even joking. suki is my favourite part of this entire fic and its not even ABOUT her.

- from chapter 3:

When Sokka crosses the room and slips under the covers beside him, Zuko says, “I can leave, if you want. I can go home.”

...

He asks, still barely hovering over Zuko, “What if I don’t want that?”

Zuko swallows. “I can stay.”

“So stay,” Sokka says, and lays his head down on Zuko’s chest.

i just think it’s sweet. i like it a lot. makes my heart hurt a little when i think about it.

- from chapter 4:

[Suki // 15:13] there is a LOT of chmpagrjn

[Suki // 15:13] cahpmhagne

[Suki // 15:13] chsanpghn

[Suki // 15:14] alcohol :)

once again: suki is the best part of this whole fic. i love her so much. she is the reason the word bestie exists. im really proud of the texting in this fic bc it’s my first time actually including it in fic and it’s turned out really well!!

- ok last one bc i just realised this is turning into a novel. from chapter 4:

“How’s my baby?”

Zuko glances down at Momo, batting at the untied laces of his shoes with one determined paw. “He’s doing just fine.”

“And how’s Momo?”

“He’s - what?”

are there better written, more narratively important and emotive lines in this fic? yes. is this the best part of the entire thing? also yes. i invented the jin/yue wedding because i needed a reason for zuko to have a key in what became chapter 6, but sometimes i think the entire fic exists just for this exchange. best dialogue i have ever written.

9. what scene was the hardest for you to write and why?

the start of chapter 6 of aidays was difficult. i kept wanting to skip ahead to the meaty parts - i.e, zuko and his soup - but i didn’t want to do sokka a disservice like that. it was also really hard to maintain the balance of accurately describing the delirium of illness while still being coherent for the reader? so that took me a couple of days to get right.

#dreamrena #ask game #this got AWAY from me #anyway.#theres.....that #asks #mine #and ill do anything you say #might as well go in the tag since its all i talk about in this #uhhh. enjoy?#i have more thoughts on literally all of aidays so. at the risk of sounding even more in love w myself than i do in this already.#if theres anything else anyone would like to know more about (excluding spoilers obv) i am MORE than happy to talk about it #sam winchester voice The Lore

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satoruvt · 3 years

Text

fanfic writer tag game <3

helloooo <3 thank u for tagging me @hannie-dul-set this is so cute lol

ummmm! i think i will tag. @leejuyeeon and @seokmingiggles !! and as always anyone else who wants to <33

peum ~

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

omg lets see if i can do this in order. i think the first fandom i ever wrote fanfic for was creepypasta LMAOO and then... fairy tail? then 5 seconds of summer, then maybe it 2017?? voltron legendary defender, detroit become human, monster prom and mystic messenger kind of overlapped, the arcana !!! then my hero academia, haikyuu, a Little bit of demon slayer... i think thats it lol

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

seventeen is all for rn, but i’m thinking of also writing for mha again and adding jjk!!

3. how long have you been writing?

oh wow for like... probably around 6 years? maybe 6 and a half

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

rn just tumblr, i used to post more actively on ao3 but i havent since i started writing for kpop

5. what is your favourite genre to write?

ahhh like !!! comfort fics!!! i think theres something really sweet in those unspoken feelings during moments you think you’ll never forget... the idea of being with someone and you’re just so sure they’re your favorite person, and then warmth that comes with that realization... wahh

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

oh it depends i think. for longer fics i like to plan them out, but i really wing it with like timestamps or shorter ones

7. one shot or multi-chapter?

ONE SHOTS. my god i fucking suck at multi-chapter shit LMAOO ive only done 1 series like that and it was so rough for me lol

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

hm how do i explain this... anything that makes sense? however long it takes for it to feel like the chapter/fic is summed up or completed. i used to worry about word counts a lot but now i rarely pay attention to them, both in reading and writing

9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?

if we’re talking about multi-chaptered, then the color of you wins at 17k !! in terms of one shots, it’s for now; forever at 9k!

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

oh boy. i think... anything from the last like. 8 months? my svt stuff for sure!! i went a while without writing in between like january-late november 2020, and i was worried that my writing would suffer a lot... it took a sec for me to get back into the groove of things but i’m feeling happier than ever with the stuff i write now. i feel like ive matured about the way i approach my own writing and ideas, and how i do everything, and my fics make me really proud. ive started writing within different aus that i hadnt touched before, or talking about different feelings or ideas, etc... i really feel like ive grown with this most recent burst lol, and i love working on them! i get so hyped up when im in the middle of writing or even planning, im just so excited to share all of it hehe

11. favorite request you've have written and why (if any?)

ah its been so long since ive worked with requests that i cant remember anything LOL

12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

yes. it is comfort and content. it is the feeling of love. it is holding hands on a walk in the middle of spring and smelling flowers. it is the sound of leaves when a gust of wind blows past. it is looking into ur lovers eyes and feeling nothing but pure fondness

13. current number of wips?

fuck like somewhere around 20 probably

14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?

i really like repetition (specifically in sentences if that makes sense??), LOTS of unspoken things (even if i picture a fic with an established relationship, i dont say it within the fic; and especially concerning romantic feelings, i love when things go unsaid and are FELT full force), i think a lot of detailed rambling... i really like to try and describe emotions and stuff in the most abstract and obscure ways lol i feel like it makes things a little more palpable and honest

15. a quote you like from a published story

im gonna do a few. Lol. firstly this long one from pretend people can unlearn:

“Are you…” Jeonghan starts, and when you look at him, his eyes are still on the city in front of you. “Are you ever afraid that we’ll fall out of love?”

It never occurred to you that this was love. It’s not like the love you’ve experienced in the past, not even close. But maybe… maybe that’s why you never leave, why you hold yourself back from certain arguments like it might fix everything. Maybe love is the reason why Jeonghan still seems to believe in you. Why he promises he’ll be the best thing for you despite always breaking that promise.

(Is it love, a voice in your head questions, or is it longing?)

It takes you a while to respond. “I don’t know,” you end up saying, because you really don’t. Jeonghan turns his head and looks at you, and you half expect him to start an argument in the middle of night, out on the street like this. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Would that… be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Jeonghan answers, just like you. His voice is soft. You want to reach for his hand just to hold it. “You’re still…”

He pauses, like he’s trying to find the right word. You let him take his time, for once, instead of accusing him of the worst. “I’m still?”

“Everything,” he tells you. He looks so sad and you reach out for him because it’s the only thing you can offer. You think the worst thing about your relationship with Jeonghan is that you will always believe him when he gets like this, just like you’ll believe him when he takes it back in the heat of a fight.

next is from like there isn’t something missing <3

But you’re crying into his chest because it’s not you, and it’s not him. Seungcheol wonders if it was always meant to be like this, if the two of you were always meant to part or if something… if something just went wrong, somewhere. A bump that did a bit more damage than either of you thought.

He tries not to think about it now. Tears fill his own eyes as he presses a kiss to your hair because he loved you. He truly did.

“I was so lucky to love you,” he murmurs, voice a cracked whisper. “I’m so happy I got the chance.”

When Seungcheol wakes up the next morning in an empty bed, he’s not surprised. But the Post-It note that’s dressed in your handwriting…

Well. It’s over.

and this last one from only for you, i will dance !!

“This will always be our own time,” he says. “We’ll meet here.”

You know. He says it every time. It never fails to make your heart soar.

“Our thirteenth month,” you say, just like every time. Chan smiles.

He kisses you so strong you feel yourself falling.

16. a quote from an unpublished story

ahh ok ill do a few here too!!! one is something ive begun writing, the other is one that i’ve just been working on planning out <3

Smoke blows past somebody else’s lips and partially obstructs Wonwoo’s view of you.

He hasn’t been to a party like this in a long time. It’s elegant, more of a gala than anything. He can’t remember who threw it or for what reason. It doesn’t really matter, he supposes, watching you make conversation with the partygoers. They all have old money to throw around, the symbolism stitched into their suit jackets and red-rimmed heels; remnants of it left on tables and in the contents of expensive cigars.

You play them like you are one of them, tell them the right things with a silver tongue. Wonwoo always watches, plays the part of an observer. It’s impressive, the way you float around the room like it’s nothing.

Wonwoo observes; Wonwoo knows things.

and the second one...

"you don't know me," you respond. your voice carries no bite, just a fact, and joshua knows this

"i want to," he says after a second. "if you'll let me."

and he's asking permission to be your friend, to be close to you, something so tender and strangely polite

it makes you feel almost sad

"don't expect too much," you say, a little teasing. joshua only smiles

17. space for you to say something to your readers

wahhh thank you all so much!!! when i first got into writing for kpop it was a lot different mostly because i think... i was writing stuff for different anime before, and i had built up a big following because of that and my works always did like, really exceptional in terms of notes and feedback and such, and getting into kpop... has been rough on that end 💀 but i appreciate your support thus far, even if it’s small... i’m still working towards a standard that i have for myself!!! so please be patient with me, thank you for the support !!

also please find it in yourself to leave lil comments or any sort of feedback... please..... PLEASE... any creator ever understands this struggle please always try to do this!!! for me and for any other creator you follow and enjoy content from <333

#wah these things r so fun. cries #tag games #adi speaks

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