#and it was the first proper fic that had 1k+ words that i actually finished. in w While

[astrxealis]

OH MY GOD i just saw that someone made their reblog of a fic of mine their pinned post. what an HONOUR

[deadhoneybee]

Scenes from a fic ill never write (im gonna chuck it at its own ones (1) and zeros (0) )

Its a college au, roughly 1k

———————————

It was almost half past twelve at night, remus was tucked into the couch with his computer in his lap and about four books laid out next to him. He’d been trying to finish this essay for three hours now and the words were starting to swim together.

He dropped his head in his hands and rubbed his face sighing out of frustration. He could finish it after class tomorrow. The door to the dorm creaked open and remus peeked through his fingers to see a very sloshed looking sirius.

“Welcome back then, i didnt think youd be here so soon” he closed his laptop and books, stacking them all on the coffee table.

“Yeah well” sirius just shrugged and pulled of his jacket, swaying as he tossed it on a kitchen chair to his right. Remus watched him carefully, a bit nervous he would topple over any minute. He thought about getting up to help but didnt move. Sirius was an adult, and he didnt need remus’ help, probably didnt even want it anyway.

Sirius just stood there by the door, staring straight at him. He could tell sirius was thinking hard about something and it made Remus squirm, he felt like he was in the hot seat and he wanted out.

“Remus, why dont you like me.”

What. That, was the last thing he expected to come out of sirius’ drunken mouth. What did he even say? He couldnt tell him the truth? That no he did like sirius, thought he was cool and talented and even a bit pretty because thats the whole problem, and up until ten seconds ago he was positive Sirius didnt like him. He still couldnt lie to him though..

Sirius stumbled into the living area and dropped into a bean bag on the floor. “Ya know.. cuz i like you. Alot. Think youre really cool even…” he stared at the ceiling tiles for a moment before dropping his gaze back to remus, who could hardly even form a proper sentence.

Oh. Oh no, Divert. Divert right now and digest it later, this is… too much theres no way sirius could actually enjoy his company. There just isnt.

“How pissed are you exactly?” He tried to sound as relaxed as possible but at that sirius scoffed, or maybe he hiccuped? Couldve been both.

“Not very, walked back all b’myself jus fine yeah?”this time it was remus that definitely scoffed.

“Youre joking, you walked back? Like this? Where was james?” Sirius shrugged his shoulders and looked like he was trying not to giggle “dunno. He was singing karaoke, at the bar? And then i was… not there.” Remus sighed and rubbed his face again. If sirius didnt request a new dorm mate in the morning then remus would be dead from the stress before first term was up.

“Yeah right well-“

“Remus whats your middle name?”

Remus pulled his hand down over his nose and mouth so he could look at sirius. His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back, he looked very concentrated and remus was just… very lost. “Im sorry what?”

“Youre middle” he stopped and hicuped again, tossing an arm over his eyes “name.. what is it?”

“Its john? Why?” There was not response for a second and he thought maybe sirius had fallen asleep until he loved his arm and opened an eye to look at him.

“Huh… so its just your first and last then?”

“Sirius, what on earth are you on about right now.” He groaned and sat closer to the edge of the couch, and sirius sat up, or well tried before giving up and sinking back into the bag with his both his eyes now trained on him.

“Your name obviously” he rolled his eyes like remus was the one making next to no sense. “Remus john lupin, means something like.. wolf john wolf right?” Very few people in his life had pieced that together, and he was not anticipating that this is where sirius was going.

“Um, yeah.. its a bit unfortunate really. My father is.. or um he was really obessed with wolves so.” He sighed and sagged back into the couch, cracking his knuckles in a nervous habit “I like it. Better then Sirius orion black anyway.” Remus didnt know what to say to that. He thought it was a rather nice name if he was honest, which he wouldnt be, not now at least.

“Can i call you wolfy?”

“Absolutely not. Never, would be preferred thanks.” Sirius scoffed and then laughed, something that sounded so light and care free and it made remus smile a bit. “Ill think of something else then, even though i was quite fond of that one.”

“You just thought of it, you cant be that fond of it already. Besides it was awful” sirius stuck his tongue out at him, smiling. “Yeah alright then, i will think of one though”

“As long as it doesnt have ‘wolf’ in it, i might be alright with that”

“Good.”

They sat for a moment like that, the occasional hiccup from sirius and tick of the old plastic clock on the wall. Its was just about one in the morning now and remus sighed. He looked over at sirius, now curled up on the bean bag. He seemed like he was about to fall asleep, his breathing soft and even and his hair haphazardly strewn about the back of the seat and his eyes.

“Hey sirius?” There was only a hum in response “dont you have an exam tomorrow at eight?” That got his attention, he opened his eyes and stretched out his legs

“Fuck. Yeah, and my professor is a right arse too.” He tried to push himself up a few times before throwing his head back and grumbling. “Mm, moonster, i dont think i can get up right now”

“That is not, dont call me that either.” He rolled his eyes and helped sirius to his feet, he was positive that hed said something in response but it was mumbled and incoherent. They walked back to their room, more remus walked and sirius stumbled. It was a wonder how he managed to make it all the way back like this, honestly.

He stopped at the edge of sirius’ bed and sat him down, neither of them said anything as he pulled himself up all the way and curled up ontop of the blankets with his back to remus’ side of the room. He just sighed and collapsed into his own bed, pulled his blanked up and over himself and stared at the ceiling.

He could hear sirius breathing slow and steady a few feet away, some shuffling, kicking, and then a thump on the floor. He turned his head and closed his eyes for a moment before he got back up and picked the duvet up off the floor. He draped it over sirius and just looked at him for a moment before whispering “i do like you, by the way..”

He walked into the kitchen and got a glass of water, dropped a few icecubes in it and walked back into their room placing it on sirius’ nightstand before dropping back into his own bed and rolling over to face the wall.

He thought he might have heard a small thank you before he fell asleep.

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

F*cking up the friendship

Word count: 3501

Genre: Angst and fluff

Pairing: Wanda x Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol (let me know if I need to add any)

Summary: You sometimes forget Nat and Wanda are dating each other but when they go off on a date you feel sad and add alcohol to the mix, unable to fully control your words around them when they come back.

A/n: I’ve been in a huge wandanat x reader mood recently so you’re probably going to get spammed with a lot of these. Originally this was supposed to be a 1k words get together fluff fic that was suggested to me but then I added angst and other stuff so I decided to make the fluffy get together fic separately. Anyways I hope you all enjoy this, I spent hours yesterday writing so I could finish it in one day. 

You sigh loudly as you flip through Netflix, finding nothing interesting to watch. Usually on a Friday night you would be doing something with Wanda and Nat but today they had told you they had a special date planned so you haven’t seen them at all. It was a completely horrible idea to fall in love with your two best friends who happened to be dating each other but your heart betrayed your brain and now you were stuck in this situation, finding it impossible to get over the two most amazing women you had ever met. Spending nearly all your time with them did not help and everyday you feel your heart break a little when they kiss each other in greeting but only give you a smile. You know you should be thankful for their friendship, and you are, but it also pains you to know that there can never be more. 

You imagine what it would be like to share kisses and wake up wrapped in their arms. One time when you had fallen asleep on the couch after staying up late watching movies with them Natasha had carried you to bed and tucked you in and Wanda had said goodnight with a kiss on your forehead. You never talked about that night because you had pretended to be asleep but you replay it over and over in your mine, wishing that it wasn’t a one time thing. They are so strong, so kind, so smart and just so amazing in every possible way. It’s fitting that they are together but it also sucks to have to watch the perfect people have a perfect relationship while you pine silently, always trying to be a supportive friend. 

You try to think positive thoughts but you can’t help but wonder what they could be doing now which ruins your mood. Nothing on Netflix looks good to watch by yourself with nobody to make fun of cringy rom-coms with or to hide your face in during horror movies. It’s almost scary how much time you’ve spent with them recently and how reliant you’ve come to be on it. Come to think of it you can’t remember the last time they went on a proper date and you start to wonder if by watching movies with them you were actually intruding upon their alone time. You hope they would have been honest and told you if you were but they have always been nothing but nice to you so it’s possible they just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. 

Giving up on watching altogether you throw the remote aside carelessly, wincing when it bounces off the couch and hits the floor with a bang, and stand up. Making your way out of the living room and over to the room where the mini bar is you push all the thoughts from your mind, focusing only on the fact that you really need a drink right now. You don’t bother to turn the lights on when you enter the room, heading straight for the bottles and pouring some whiskey into a glass, much more than a recommended size. 

Sitting down on the couch you take a gulp. It burns and tastes disgusting, you’ve never been one for drinking but tonight you enjoy the feeling, not drinking for pleasure but drinking to hopefully forget. It takes about an hour before your thoughts get all muddled and you feel more relaxed. You slowly start to close your eyes and drift off to sleep when you are woken suddenly by a thump and a stream of curse words. You startle and your hand jerks spilling the rest of your drink all over your lap. 

Natasha and Wanda are standing a few feet in front of you. Natasha is looking at you with an expression you can’t recognize in your inebriated state and Wanda is clutching her foot, looking darkly at the leg of the coffee table. 

“Shit.” You mumble loudly, both at spilling your drink and at seeing them while drunk. This wasn’t supposed to happen, they were supposed to still be gone and now you’ve just embarrassed yourself completely in front of them. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Natasha is at your side in an instant, cupping your face in her hands, “let’s get you cleaned up okay?”

Wanda is there a second later, hovering. “And then maybe you could tell us what’s wrong.”

“Nothhhing’s wrong.” You slur, standing up. “Goodnight.”

“No no no, you’re not going anywhere by yourself right now.” Natasha tells you firmly, grabbing your arm. You don’t protest, partly because you know they are both stubborn and will always win and partly because you secretly want to spend as much time with them as possible. 

“Listen to Nat,” Wanda advises, “can you walk?”

“I can walk.” You say, crossing your arms and trying to look serious

Natasha raises an eyebrow, doing a horrible job at stifling her laughter for a spy. “Show me then.”

You take a few steps forward, looking triumphantly at Natasha before you stumble, arms flailing out and grabbing Wanda to prevent yourself from falling. Wanda helps pull you back up straight and kisses you on the forehead.

“I think the correct answer to the question is no.” She tells you amused. “Let me help you.” 

She doesn’t wait for a response and hooks an arm underneath your shoulders to help support your weight. You lean into her and match her steps, frowning when Natasha hurries away in front instead of walking with you.

“She’s just going ahead to grab something.” Wanda whispers, noticing your expression. You feel your entire body shiver from the sound of her whisper in your ear. Luckily she doesn’t mention it and just tightens her grip around you and continues until you’ve reached their shared room.

You stare at the door in confusion. “What are we doing here?”

“Did you really think we would leave you alone when you’re drunk and obviously upset about something?” She asks rhetorically. “We want to take care of you.”

You’re glad she’s holding you up otherwise you’re afraid you would have melted to the floor from her words alone. She pushes the door open and leads you inside. Natasha is waiting and hands you a pile of clothes. You recognize the bottoms as Wanda’s favourites and the top as Natasha’s shirt. 

“For me?” You ask, confused. She had handed them to you but maybe she actually wanted to give them to Wanda seeing as it’s their stuff.

“Yes for you silly,” she says smiling, “are you able to change by yourself in the bathroom?” You nod, feeling slightly more sober now.

“Okay just be careful and call if you need us.” Wanda tells you before stepping away from your side. You already miss her warmth but you pretend to be unaffected and head into the bathroom to change. 

It takes longer than usual, in part because you accidentally tried to put both legs in the same hole at first, but you managed to undress and put the pajamas on. They’re soft and smell like a mixture of them and you will deny it if asked but you hold the shirt up to your nose and breathe it in before realizing how weird that is. Walking back out of the room you shift nervously, unsure of what to do with both Natasha and Wanda staring at you intently.

“Come here sweetheart.” Natasha says and you immediately comply, heart pounding at the endearment, sitting down beside her on the bed in between her and Wanda. “Do you want to tell us why you got drunk now?” You shake your head furiously, only stopping when it starts to make you nauseous. 

“No, I don’t really-” You get cut off by your own yawn, suddenly very tired. 

Wanda giggles. “Let’s get you to bed now.”

You start to pout, upset that you have to leave and go back to your room but before you can move she uses her powers to gently float up the bed to the pillows, pulling you with her. Natasha joins you and cuddles you from behind so you’re pinned between them. Your eyes feel so tired but you try to fight sleep, wanting to stay in the moment forever. 

“Goodnight Y/n.” Natasha says and you stop resisting and start to relax. 

“Night Tasha I love you.” You tell her sleepily. “I love you too Wanda.”

“Sleep well Y/n.” Wanda replies, giving you a short kiss on the top of your forehead. You feel so warm and safe between them and it only takes another minute before you’re fast asleep.

---

You try to move but something strong and warm is holding you down. Your eyes fly open and the first thing you see is Wanda’s face, inches from your own. Natasha must be behind you because you can feel her wrapped around you and her small breaths blowing the back of your head. It’s nice but you can’t remember how you got here so you wrack your brains, ignoring your headache. You were sad so instead of watching a movie you started drinking, then they found you and then they took you back here and after that-SHIT. Shit shit shit shit shit you had told them you loved them. 

You aren’t naive enough to believe they think you meant it in a platonic way, you never tell your friends you love them and Natasha and Wanda are both really smart and can easily tell what you’re thinking. You just hope that they don’t tease you about it because you don’t think you could handle anything but being let down gently. 

“What are you thinking about?” Natasha asks from behind you. You hadn’t realized she was awake already but somehow she noticed you are, she’s scary with how much she knows sometimes. As much as you know this conversation will be awkward and painful you know there’s no point in delaying it and it’s best if you have control over it. 

“That I’m sorry.” You tell her. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She says gently, sitting up, understanding what you’re referencing. 

“No I do, I made things weird and I didn’t want to do that.” You say, hating yourself for the lump that forms in your throat. You start to untangle yourself from Wanda, trying hard not to wake her. This conversation is difficult enough with one person, if Wanda wakes up you’ll most definitely start to cry and the last thing you want is for them to feel bad or to pity you. 

“Y/n-” She starts but you interrupt her, not wanting to hear it. 

“I hope we can still be friends.” You say making your way to the door before pausing. “Please tell Wanda I’m sorry and that I need some time to myself for the day but after that I will pretend nothing happened.”

“Y/n, please-” 

This time you cut her off by closing the door. You run to your room. You don’t think she’ll try to follow and catch up with you but you don’t want to take any chances and you certainly don’t want the others to see where you’re coming from and your shame to get deeper. You are stupid, so stupid, you shouldn’t have gotten drunk and you should have kept your stupid mouth shut. Their friendship means everything to you and although Natasha didn’t seem like she would stop being friends with you over it things will definitely be awkward for a long time and you’ve seen friendships crumble because of it. 

Luckily you make it to your room without anybody noticing and you take a few breaths to calm yourself, closing your eyes. It helps for a second but when you open them again you’re looking straight into your mirror and you can see yourself wearing their clothes and immediately feel the tears start to come. You jump onto your bed and bury yourself fully under the covers, trying to stop crying because you don’t deserve to, it was your fault, and crying only makes everything worse, including your headache. 

---

Natasha shakes Wanda awake only to hear her groan and shift, attempting to fall back asleep. 

Rolling her eyes she tries again. “Wanda. Wanda. Wanda wake up.” Wanda moves slightly and lets out incoherent mumbles before waking up more and sitting straight up.

“Where’s Y/n?” She asks alarmed, remembering you were here when she fell asleep.

“That’s why I’m waking you up; she left.” Natasha tells her and Wanda frowns.

“Why?”

“Because we messed up and now she thinks we don’t love her.” Natasha explains. “She thinks that she ruined our friendship by telling us she loved us last night since we didn’t say it back and she left before I had time to correct her.”

“Oh crap.” Wanda says, thinking about how things seemed for you. From your point of view you had drunkenly confessed your feelings to people in a relationship before falling asleep with them not saying it back. 

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, “I know we weren’t planning on doing the thing until this evening but I think we should do it now, we can’t let her be upset for any longer.” 

“You’re better at talking so you should get her while I set it up.” Wanda says and Natasha nods in agreement.

“Be as quick as possible, we will hopefully be there in ten minutes.” Natasha tells her before giving her a quick peck. Wanda sighs dreamily, imagining what it’s going to be like when she is dating both you and Natasha (provided you say yes of course but Natasha is certain you will and she trusts Natasha). 

Leaving her room Natasha quickly makes her way to yours and knocks on the door. 

“Go away.” You say and she can’t stand how sad and self loathing you sound just from those two small words.

“No,” she replies, “I need to talk to you.”

“Please.” You beg, your voice cracking in desperation. You can’t see her right now, not like this. She doesn’t listen, hating to ignore you but knowing that if she talks to you she can hopefully make it all better.

“Oh Y/n.” She sighs upon opening the door and seeing your lump under the covers. “Sweetheart it’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not, I fucked up our friendship Nat!” You cry out, still refusing to show your face.

“No baby you didn’t.” She tells you, the endearment accidentally slipping off her tongue in her attempts to comfort you. “Please just give me a minute to explain some things.”

“Okay.” You sniffle, both confused and curious. You hate that you’re even a tiny bit hopeful at her words and you attempt to squash those thoughts down to spare as much of your heart that hasn’t already been hurt. 

“I would love to see your pretty face when I talk to you.” She prompts, gently lifting the edge of the covers. You slowly peek out of them like a turtle, well aware and slightly embarrassed of the fact that you look like you’ve been crying (which you have but it’s still embarrassing).

“There we go, that’s much better.” She tells you smiling. Even though you’re upset you can’t help but crack a wobbly smile back at her, her happiness really is infectious. She stares at your shirt as you pull more of yourself out from under the covers and you flush when you realize that you had never bothered to change and are still wearing her shirt. 

“It looks nice on you.” She says softly, reaching out to touch the hem before clearing her throat and switching into business mode. “I think you got the wrong impression.”

“I know I never should have-” You start to apologize, scared of her shift in mood. 

“That’s exactly what I mean.” She interrupts. “You seem to think that you’ve ruined our friendship by telling out how you feel but I can assure you that’s not the case at all and we are actually both extremely happy about your feelings.”

“Why isn’t Wanda here then.” You ask skeptically. 

“Because she’s in the living room where I’m supposed to bring you.” Natasha replies. “Will you come?”

“I don’t know,” you say nervously, “are you sure that…” you trail off, unsure of what else to say. 

“Y/n,” Natasha says and suddenly you’re all too aware of how close she is to you, “it will be good I promise.” 

As soon as she finishes speaking she leans in and her lips are on yours. It’s better than any of the times you’ve dreamed and it’s the perfect mix between hard and passionate but also soft and sweet.

“Wow.” You breathe when she pulls away after a few seconds, unable to think of anything else. 

She laughs. “Wanda’s going to be jealous that I got to do that before her and as much as I’d love to kiss you again we shouldn’t keep her waiting for too long.”

You nod silently and take Wanda’s hand when she offers it as she stands up and starts to walk out of the room.

“Wait,” you say just before you leave, “maybe I should change first.”

She looks over your (well technically their) clothes. “You are not changing, I like you wearing our stuff.”

You’re surprised to hear the slight possessive growl in her voice but it makes you incredibly happy. The start to this day had to be one of the worst in your life but it’s quickly becoming the best. Feeling as though you’re floating you allow her to pull you through the halls into one of the living rooms, the one you usually use for watching movies.

Wanda is sitting on the couch looking at the door when you come in but what catches your eye is the sheer amount of stuff around her. There are heaps of all your favourite candies and chips all around her and there’s a cute stuffed bear.

“Do you like it?” She asks and instead of answering you let go of Natasha’s hand and throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her waist tightly.

“I think that means yes.” Natasha says, laughing at your enthusiastic reaction.

“I love it,” you tell them, “I love-” You stop yourself before you tell them you love them again because even after all this you’re still not sure if that’s what they want to hear. 

“We love you too Y/n.” Wanda says and you sigh in both happiness and relief at her words. “Nat do you want to give her the thing now?”

You pull away from Wanda to look over at Natasha, curious as to what the thing is. Natasha picks up a small red jewelry box from the table that you hadn’t noticed earlier in your excitement and hands it to you. They both watch as you open it, suddenly nervous that you won’t like it.

You open it up to see a necklace with two charms on it and two charms that are identical lying beside it. Upon closer inspection you gasp, recognizing the the letter charms n and w as the same ones Natasha and Wanda wore on their necklaces, reminding them of each other. The charms lying beside it are the first letter of your name, presumably for them to add to their necklace. You feel yourself tear up at how sweet and thoughtful this gesture is. 

Wanda breaks the silence first. “This is what we were doing yesterday and it took all day because they were custom made so we wanted it done by the same person so it would look the same. We thought it would be nice for us to give you this when we officially asked you out so you don’t feel like an outsider or anything because we really like you and want things to go well.”

“What she’s trying to say is will you go out with us.” Natasha says, halting Wanda’s rambling. 

Wanda smiles sheepishly. “What she said.”

You slowly look up, careful not to let any tears fall and launch yourself into their arms, pulling whatever part of them you are holding towards you. 

“I think you already know the answer by now but I would love to.” You say, still trying to get as close to them as possible. They wrap their arms around you tightly and moving together they lift you a few steps to the couch and plop you down, sitting and cuddling on either side of you.

“Today’s movie day and we’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” Natasha promises and you hum happily in reply. You don’t care at all about what type of dates you go on or even if you go on them at all because you’re dating the two most amazing women in the world and that’s a high you’re going to be riding for a long time, possibly forever.

---

Taglist: @cherryblossomskye @aaron-despair @thewidowsghost @nyx-aira @stephanieromanoff @stop-drop-and-drumroll @peggycarter-steverogers @casperlikej @redswing​ @mxxnmocha​ @king-star​ 

[ghoste-catte]

I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

[buckyownsmylife]

Sentimental Education - Walter Marshall smut

The one where you’re having an affair with your professor but he wants so much more...

Warnings: implied age gap, professor/student relationship, reader is a grad student, so no underage business, breeding kink, smut

Word count: 1k>

A/N: this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Walter's P.O.V.

Was it wrong to want her so badly?

The question had taken over my mind ever since I first laid eyes on her, so proper, so beautiful, in the middle of the crowded room. And if only it was an ordinary room, but I couldn’t have that type of luck. It had to be a classroom, my classroom, and she had to be one of my students.

At least she was a grad student, there to assist me in the transition to become a professor, but I don’t think it eased my guilt at all. Seeing her there, biting the edge of her pen, her focus completely on me, I wanted to dedicate the same type of attention to her. I wanted to be able to stare at her for two hours without people judging it, pretending to know what was going through my head.

The closest I got to it were our weekly meetings to plan for the next class. Just me and her, and a tiny office that felt even smaller when her perfume filled it, overpowering me. I liked to see myself as somewhat of an authoritative man, at least in the sense that I didn’t easily get intimidated by anyone else, but my God did she make me want to get on my knees and just… worship her. Give her the treatment that she deserved.

I didn’t think she noticed it at first, too unaware of her own allure to see how my eyes always lingered on the little exposed skin her outfit allowed me to see, my body instinctively so desperate to be near hers that I always stood just a bit too close.

But then one day, everything changed. And I didn’t know what was the cause for it, couldn’t point out if anyone asked me. What led us to that day where the very nature of our relationship changed? I don’t think she knew it either. 

All we could say was that one Thursday met us with a particular vulnerability I wasn’t used to feeling, but seeing her crying awakened something inside of me - something possessive and protective and suddenly all I wanted was to make her feel okay again.

Was it wrong to want her so badly? I was mature enough to admit that no, to want someone so desperately meant nothing in the quiet of the night, when there’s a distance between our bodies and the one we want spread out under us. 

But I was also old enough to know that there was a lot wrong in the fact that the distance between us was nonexistent, and it had been this way for almost every night ever since that Thursday.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” I promised against her lips, and she didn’t even open her eyes to acknowledge my words, just whined against my mouth, body tightly pressed up against mine as I deposited kisses all over her skin. My voice was so raspy with desire that I could barely recognize it as my own, a testament to how much I still needed her despite how much I’d taken from her already.

My hands explored her body before my tongue followed it, always so fascinated by her curves and her warmth, the way she responded so well to me. Goosebumps and tiny little moans, the way her nipples puckered when I rubbed my nose over them, the way I always found her wet, so wet when I finally opened her legs.

There was nothing quite like being inside of her. I was addicted to it now, I couldn’t deny it - and when she tugged me by my hair to meet her lips as I penetrated her, there was no part of me that worried about my fate. I’d go to hell willingly.

I couldn’t regret what I needed. And I needed to feel her walls clenching around me, her lips abandoning mine because she couldn’t hold her breath anymore. The look on her face when she met her high was what got me through the time I couldn’t hold her, the moments I had to pretend I never learned how she tasted.

It was the unspoken promise I’d get to see it again someday.

“Good girl,” I groaned, quickening my thrusts as I changed the angle so I could hit her sweet spot, fascinated with the way she twisted and mewled from under me, eyes silently asking me to give her what she wanted. “Always such a good girl for me.”

This was how it started. The fantasies that quickly spiraled out of control - the fact that I couldn’t show my love and devotion, my need and desire. It started with a simple question: what could I do about the fact that I wouldn’t have her forever?

And the answer came in the form of the memories of what we had already shared, just a bit different. In my fantasies, I could have her completely raw, fill her with my seed until it was dripping out of her, staining the sheets underneath. Changing her from the inside, making her mine.

I imagined her begging me for it, desperate for my cum, pleading me for a kid. And then when she figured out she was actually pregnant, the nervousness with which she’d let me know, almost fearful of my reaction once it was a reality.

Of course, I’d do whatever it took to make her happy. Run away, quit my job, find a nice small house, raise a family together. I craved to watch her body change, her stomach and breasts get bigger, knowing it was because of me. All because of me.

I wanted to get her as dirty as me. And the fact that I had her right now, creaming around me, with no idea of what was going through my mind, only made me feel filthier, only added to my arousal.

At the end of the day, I didn’t care about the future, not even ours. Just as long as I could keep fucking her.

[prince-liest]

fic writer interview!

How many works do you have on AO3?

37, though another one is going up tomorrow because haunted AO3 hours started and I don't want to post it in the middle of the night on a Monday. Also like 4 or 5 more in reserve from zines/bangs. I'm kinda impressed with myself, but also, side-eyeing y'all with fic counts in the 100s. Phenomenal. Effervescent.

What's your total AO3 word count?

257,246

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

In chronological order of first fic on AO3: Percy Jackson, Soul Eater, Steven Universe, My Hero Academia, Dragalia Lost, Avater: the Last Airbender, the Witcher, and Genshin Impact! That's 7 fandoms and I'm not counting Homestuck (I only wrote OC stuff) or D&D (same thing).

I also have works from Axis Powers: Hetalia and Katekyo Hitman Reborn! on Fanfiction dot hell that none of you will ever see. I definitely posted and deleted a Twilight OC fic once.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Dish Duty | ATLA

The Sword of Damocles is Swinging | MHA

The Ancient Art of Jerkbending | ATLA

Dishabille | MHA

Summer Break | MHA

ATLA is a powerful fandom so I'm not surprised both my ATLA fics made top five. Dishabille's popularity continues to pleasantly surprise me. Damocles is only surprising because it isn't first. I am so proud of Summer Break and that entire Shinsou series, I'm glad it made top 5 and is gonna break 1k kudos soon. <3

(Now get Dog-Tired up there, I fucking love that story. q^q)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

To quote Mido: I do, but not consistently. Q^Q I read them all and I really want to reply to them all, but I very frequently simply to not have the energy. I have it posted on my AO3 profile, though, so hopefully it doesn't hurt anyone's feelings... I have recently been trying to at least answer all new incoming comments and not let the backlog increase! (That said, the backlog is over 100.)

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

I don't tend to do angsty endings (I am a hard lover of angst with a happy ending), but I've written some questionable and bittersweet ones. I think arguably the best contendor for angstiest ending is probably Kindred Spirit. I wrote it to low key revenge myself on @thegc4life for insisting that Shinsou gets a hug (he does! technically!) and it certainly ended ominously.

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

As much as I love "Edward Elric gets transported into X universe and proceeds to kick everyone's ass" crossovers, I don't relaly write any. I do enjoy full transplant AUs, though, and the one I recently posted on AO3 is an MHA-at-Hogwards AU called the Birds and the Mares that I wrote for the HP/BNHA Zine!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Deeeeepends on what you mean by 'hate.' :X has gotten two comments (one much politer than the other, haha) complaining about my use of the r-slur in Shinsou's internal narrative in one of the chapters, but one person backpedaled and said they understood the purpose of it while the other (more vehement) one never replied to my explanation. That's all, though!

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yeah. It's never going on my main AO3 (and the one time it did, I orphaned the fic). I have a side account I might post it on once I get over the fact that people who know me also know about the account. It's all 100% PWP of stuff I personally am into, and I have a very specific set of things I'm into, so... idk, feels a little personal! ^^"

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, but I've had people adopt general concepts I used (fabulous!) and steal my RP OCs back in ye olde fantroll days (not at all fabulous! incredibly hurtful, actually). I am vehemently opposed to plagiarism, even of concepts. It feels so gross.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone in the comments mentioned that they are translating Bloodied Hound into Russian and I am SO EXCITED. I desperately want to read it. Of all the languages, it happened to be the only other one I'm decently literate in! I also want to show my grandparents. I really hope the person follows through. <3

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've roleplayed a lot, but I can't see myself ever co-writing a fic. I'm not even sure how it works, to be honest!

What’s your all time favourite ship?

Urgh. Pass. I can't pick one. Perils of a multishipper.

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

I was going to proudly say "I never post things I don't plan on finishing!" but in reality that is a lie, because Falling Down A Rabbit Hole exists from back in 2015 and is in fact the reason I made that rule for myself. ^^" Honestly, what's there still holds up, but the reality is that I didn't actually come up with a plot, so there's nowhere for it to go.

What are your writing strengths?

Interesting/relatable/funny dialogue, and also writing feelings in a 'show, don't tell!' kind of way that leaves strong impressions with people!

What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting out long stories with good pacing! People thought Damocles had a plot, apparently? Joke's on you, it was a series of "I wanna see this happen" scenarios that I made Hawks suffer through and subsequently strung together like a haphazard multicolor plastic bead necklace that I told everyone was actually pearls.

That's why all my stories after Damocles are either short or split into a series. Shinsou's Bad Days is my attempt at proper pacing, hence it being so episodic.

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

I'll do it if I know the language well enough (so, Russian and ASL, I don't trust my casual Japanese), but I'm generally a stickler for making things come off naturally, so I otherwise will instead try to find the closest tonal equivalent in English (such as having Childe call Zhongli "professor" instead of "xiansheng"). Sometimes there just isn't one (like Kazuha calling Beidou 'big sis' but in a way that doesn't sound kiddish and overly casual for him), though, which sucks. :( Language is cool!

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

T. Twilight. QUQ I wish that fic still existed, it was like a single chapter of two multicolored hair OCs befriending Alice Cullen and being cool. I deleted it but I SHOULDN'T HAVE. IT WAS HISTORY.

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

This totally changes with each new slew of fics I post. I think currently it is Dog-Tired because despite being unsatisfied with the title, I think the story itself turned out amazing. I also am extremely happy with the entire Shinsou's Bad Days series (including upcoming installments).

Tagged by: @touchmycoat (THANK U LOVE <3)

Tagging: anyone who's read this far, LOL. seriously, though, I have a lot of writer moots and I don't have the time to tag them all but PLEASE do this and tag me so I can read it if you are so inclined! <3

[hljournal]

Today’s author is suspendrs / @suspendrs​ ! Don’t forget to give the fics kudos and leave a comment! 

to the cloud and the cold (2k)

Or, Louis is a Summer Fairy, Harry is an Autumn Fairy, and the autumn equinox is the best day of the year.

fearless (97k)

“You’re my best friend, Louis,” Harry says, barely above a whisper. Even if he was yelling, Louis wouldn’t be able to believe his ears. “And I know it’s been a while, but you’re still the person I consider my best friend,” Harry says.

Louis blinks, and then blinks again. “I honestly cannot say the same, Harry,” he says.

Or, Harry left home without a word after high school, and a lot can change in ten years.

just a little dance (1k)

“Keep your head up, love,” he says, pulling away and grabbing Harry’s hands. “Dance with me.”

“I don’t want to dance,” Harry pouts, but he lets Louis pull him into the center of the dark kitchen, anyway.

“Just a little dance,” Louis says, tugging Harry’s hands until he’s flush against his front.

Or, a tiny drabble based on the cutest lyric from perfect now

ferricadooza! (65k)

Harry can’t even fathom the idea of surrendering; he’d fight ‘til he died, if he had to, anything to keep from surrendering.

Or, the year is 1963, homosexuality is illegal in the UK, Louis owns a gay bar, and Harry’s an underground boxing champion with an unfortunate enemy.

at last, at last (41k)

“Come with us,” Tommo says, stopping at the other end of the gymnasium, near the doors. “Don’t let them make you suffer any longer. Come with us, and be human.”

Before Harry has even finished thinking it through, he’s on his feet, gaining the attention of every single person in the gymnasium. What has he got to lose, anyway?

Or, Harry is born into a cult in a post-apocalyptic world, and Louis is the leader of the rebel group tasked with the mission of shutting them down. Together, they make a rather effective team.

the act of making noise (32k)

“Oh,” Harry frowns, waving him off. “No, I could never. I respect myself too much to sing for a living.”

It feels like a slap across the face, but Louis does his best not to stiffen, blinking once and then frowning. “What?”

“Those people are always so miserable, you know?” Harry says, hopping down off his stool and straightening his sweater. “There’s so much pressure on them, and they have to work so hard to keep up appearances, I can’t even imagine how difficult that is. I can’t even stand to listen to pop music today, let alone watch TV or read the magazines. It makes me so sad, thinking that those people, you know, the ones who actually went into it with heart, they only ever just wanted to make music and instead they got turned into things on leashes being paraded around to make money for other people,” he says. “Anyway, you can have the stool.”

Or, Louis's famous, Harry has no idea who he is, and they get snowed in together at a ski lodge in Vermont.

walls (20k)

The thing about having been on the move so much for the past five years is that now, once they’re finally able to sit down and rest for a bit, they don’t really know what to do with themselves. Louis loved the pace of the band, for all he and the others complained about it; he isn’t very fond of sitting still, and he absolutely loathes boredom, and there was very little space in their lives for either of those things while they were so busy putting out an album every year and touring more often than not. Being in the same room as Harry while neither of them are under the pressure of keeping up appearances feels like being in a room with a total stranger, and the amount of trouble they’re having trying to get to know each other again is really rather alarming.

Or, a love one whole decade in the making, inspired by Louis's debut album.

fine line (22k)

There’s still a lot of things they don’t talk about, a lot of things they don’t bring home with them at the end of the day, and a lot of things that don’t even need to be said. The world is the world and it sucks sometimes, but it’s far away when Harry’s at home and Louis’s here with him and none of it needs to matter when it could just as easily be ignored. Harry tries to open up sometimes, tries to bring Louis into his world, but Louis’s got a world of his own to tend to, and it feels like more often than not they are on two separate planets and the universe just keeps expanding.

Or, a love three more years in the making, inspired by Harry’s sophomore album.

out for a duck (2k)

“Well, once I got control of Clifford, I took him right back to the house and changed my clothes and gave him one hell of a dressing down, let me tell you,” he scoffs. “And then I felt so bad I went back out to see if the duck had gone back to her eggs, and that Clifford hadn’t damaged them or hurt the duck at all. She wasn’t there when I got back, and I sat there for hours waiting for her, but she never showed her face! She just up and abandoned her babies, just left them there cold and alone, all because a dog barked at her,” he sighs, shaking his head.

“Still not sure why the eggs are now in my kitchen,” Louis frowns.

“I couldn’t just leave them there!” Harry says. “It was my fault they were abandoned! Well, Clifford’s fault, but whatever. I couldn’t live with myself if I just left them there to die. So I came back to the house and got a bowl and some gloves and scooped them up so I could bring them home and keep them warm until they hatch.”

Or, Harry accidentally adopts two duck eggs.

what’s inside your imagination (is as real as anything else) (3k)

“Hey!” Niall shouts suddenly, scaring Harry nearly out of his hat. “We like your costume!”

The ghost turns to glance at Niall, producing a hand from under the sheet and giving him a thumbs up. Harry can’t help but laugh a little more, the casual gesture adding to the entire vibe of the sunglasses-wearing ghost.

The ghost looks at them for a moment longer before turning and disappearing into the crowd again, and Harry sighs. “I love Halloween,” he says thoughtfully.

Or, Harry's a witch who likes to pretend he's a human pretending he's a witch, and Louis's the human in a not-so-clever costume that keeps catching his eye.

satellite (100k)

“It’s been three years since I’ve had a proper hot meal,” Louis says finally. “I have no idea where my family is, or if any of them are even still alive. The only reason I’ve been able to keep myself alive for as long as I have is because I keep to myself, stay guarded, stay hidden. It’s the only way I know how to live,” he says.

Harry wants to cry, but he tries to put on a brave face when Louis finally meets his eyes. “You’re safe here. You don’t have to be so guarded around me,” Harry says quietly, earnestly.

“That’s very sweet of you,” Louis says, putting his fork down. “But yes I do. Especially around you.”

Or, Harry finds out that someone's been living in his house without him knowing, but instead of kicking him out, he falls in love with him.

sugar in a plum (4k)

“I’m your dad,” Harry says softly, extending his hand to Plum for her to have a sniff. Plum considers for a moment, looks up at Louis, and then bites Harry’s finger.

“Ow!” Harry shrieks, pulling his hand away quickly. He’s not bleeding, but Plum’s teeth are incredibly sharp, he feels like he’s been stabbed with ten tiny needles. “Jesus, Lou, I thought we were getting a cat, not a demon.”

Or, Harry's new kitten is out to ruin his life.

there are no atheists in foxholes (64k)

“Do you think we’ll ever see it again?” Harry asks after a minute. “London?”

Louis blinks, looking down. They very well could spend the rest of their lives on this island, and they’re both very aware of that. Everyone probably already thinks they’re dead, anyway. Their flats are going to be sold, and their families are going to have funerals, and life is going to go on without them. Even if they do get rescued, it’s already been days. The news of the shipwreck has definitely reached London by now. They don’t know if there’s been any effort to look for survivors, but they also don’t know how far away from the wreck they are, or how far people are going to go to look for them, or if anyone even knows that this island is here and, like, it’s very possible that they’ve already looked and stopped looking for survivors, and no one knows they’re out here-

“I don’t know,” Louis says, before he can start spiraling. “I hope so, but I don’t know.”

Or, the sea takes everything from Louis, but it gives him back more than he ever could’ve asked for.

it ain’t right, but isn’t it amazing (7k)

It’s all Niall’s fault, as most things are. Niall’s the one that made the bloody Tinder account in the first place, and the one that added every decent looking photo of Louis he could find on his phone, and the one that swiped right on the first fifteen guys that popped up. Yeah, Louis might have done the rest of the work that landed him here, in the men’s toilets of a Japanese restaurant in west London with vomit dripping down his chin and down the very, very attractive chest of the very, very attractive man in front of him, but Niall started it.

Or, Harry takes Louis for sushi on the first date. It doesn't go well.

keep this love in a photograph (48k)

“I could never forget a damn thing about you, Harry Styles, not even if I wanted to,” Louis says. His hair falls into his face when he glances over at Harry, the moonlight reflecting off of it and making it glow golden, like maybe Louis himself is the sun.

Harry thinks of how dark and cold his life got once Louis went away, how Harry got a taste of the sweetest sunshine imaginable and then was plunged into the longest winter of his life. He feels like he’s been buried under mounds of snow for months, years, and he’s finally made it to spring, finally getting another taste of how wonderful life can be.

Or, it’s 1919, and Harry’s been falling in love with his best friend for his entire life.

thrills don’t come for free (4k)

The night before comes back to him slowly, puking in the toilet at the club and then falling asleep in his car in the parking lot. He closes his eyes again for a moment until he realizes that the car is on and moving, and someone is driving it that isn’t him.

He picks his head up and peers between the seats, catching sight of a perfect stranger sitting behind the wheel, singing quietly and driving Louis’s car.

Or, Louis has a bit too much to drink and falls asleep in the backseat of Harry's car.

not even the gods above (25k)

The thing is, though, this isn’t good enough for Harry. Sure, he has the rest of his life to be a notable king, but he wants to be notable now. He wants to bring the two kingdoms together and he wants to do it early on, wants to be the one to facilitate the merge until it seems like the two kingdoms were one all along. He doesn’t want to wait, but everyone he’s turned to thinks waiting is the right choice, so he supposes he has to trust them.

That is, of course, until a declaration of war from the Kingdom of Tomlinson shows up at his palace.

somewhere far away from here (12k)

“Harry,” Louis says, squeezing his arm. “Do you know her?”

“My sister,” Harry mutters, eyes glued to the screen.

“What’s she saying?” Louis asks, voice quiet. “What does she want?”

“Me,” Harry murmurs, hardly a breath. “She knows I’m here.”

Or, Harry's sister comes to Earth to bring him home, but Harry's got a few things keeping him here.

i’ll take your pain (2k)

It’s kind of romantic when Harry thinks about it, feeling all the pain of the person he’s supposed to love for the rest of his life. Sure, it’s rather inconvenient when he’s in class and his soulmate gets kicked in the balls, or when he’s sleeping and his soulmate knocks his head or his knee off something. It’d be nice if the function helped them to find each other, but Harry supposes he can live with knowing that they’re destined to run into each other someday.

Or, soulmates have the ability to feel each other's pain, and Harry finds his after getting his arse waxed. (Or, the soulmate au crack fic I can't believe I actually wrote.)

the pink album (31k)

They don’t really discuss how hard it is to be in this situation, or to be doing the things they have to do to continue being together. It’s just something they don’t talk about, and that’s alright. Or maybe it isn’t, but they’ll cross that bridge when they get to it.

Or, a love seven years in the making, inspired by Harry's debut album.

i’ll make this feel like home (41k)

It’s nerdy, much nerdier than anything Harry would have engaged in back home. Perrie and Ed are singing some song from West Side Story and Stan is just giggling along, and it’s almost weird how weird Harry doesn’t find it. Liam and Niall would be running as fast as they could from this interaction, but somehow, Harry finds himself giggling along as well.

Maybe it’s because no one in this group seems like they should belong in this group, but Harry feels like he fits right in. He feels more himself than he has in weeks when Louis plops down beside him for a couple moments and throws out another title to add to their movie marathon. Even though he can’t contribute to the conversation about musicals and he has no idea whether The King and I or Oklahoma is more important, he never feels like an outsider.

Or, Harry is new to Plymouth and has had a rough start, but Louis won't rest until he makes it start to feel like home.

dirty laudry looks good on you (19k)

“So um, Niall mentioned you haven’t lived here long. What brings you to London?”

“What is this, an interview?” Louis smirks, stealing Harry’s drink and taking a sip. “Wanted a change of scenery. Dunno.”

Harry hums and takes his drink back, narrowing his eyes playfully at Louis as he takes a long sip. “Can I buy you a drink, or would you rather keep sharing mine?”

“You most certainly can buy me a drink,” Louis grins, grabbing the bottle back out of Harry’s hand, “but I’m still going to be stealing yours.”

Or, Harry is jaded and sad and resigned to be forever alone, until Niall sets him up with a friend of his whose broken pieces may just fit pretty well with Harry's.

we’ve got to get away from here (23k)

“It is my understanding that you are the most comprehensive member of this agency in the field of extraterrestrial life, is that right?” the agent asks. He’s trying to sound calm, but Louis can tell he’s shaken as well.

“Um, I guess so,” Louis says, glancing over at the man in the blanket again.

Suddenly, Louis’s blood runs cold. There’s something off about the man, something in his gaze, something Louis can’t put his finger on. It’s terribly unsettling, but excitement bubbles in his gut.

Or, Louis is an FBI agent who likes to think himself a paranormal expert, and Harry is the alien that somehow ended up in his office.

in midnights, in cups of coffee (15k)

“Sorry about the sugar,” Louis says, backing toward his own flat. “Bundle up before you go out.”

Harry smiles so sweetly then that Louis can’t imagine he’ll even need the sugar, if the muffins aren’t sweet enough just because they were made by him. “Thanks,” he says, eyes lingering a little longer on Louis before he lets himself back into Gemma’s apartment, and then Louis is just standing in the hallway by himself.

Or, Louis is overworked and cold, Harry is stressed out, and they might be in love.

come away with me (80k)

Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter's life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.

in the night (19k)

Or, the self-indulgent reversed pov and slight continuation of come away with me.

my song has not been sung (2k)

Or, Harry is watching a protest from the sidelines until a boy with a rainbow flag and a pretty smile drags him right into the middle of it.

i’ll be home for christmas (12k)

Or, Louis and Harry can’t decide where to go on Christmas.

autumn leaves (27k)

Or, Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.

we’ve got unfinished business (7k)

Or, there’s a ghost in Harry and Louis’s apartment that seemingly just wants them to date.

falling in love with you again (4k)

Or, three times in which Louis fell in love with Harry all over again.

heading for a small disaster (20k)

Or, Harry drives an Uber and Louis’s life is falling apart.

don’t stop to worry (4k)

It was just supposed to be a trim today, to skim off the dead ends of his hair. He had no idea it’d end the way it did.

Or, Harry cuts his hair. It's kind of a big deal.

diamonds, they fade (1k)

The cold does nothing tonight but remind Louis of the boy he left inside, the boy that’s curled up under the blankets by himself right now, the boy that’s probably going to come looking for him soon when he wakes up and Louis isn’t there.

Or, Louis has insomnia.

maps can be poems when you’re on your own (19k)

Or, Harry falls in love with the guy his best friend is fooling around with.

we could be enough (4k)

Or, Harry runs an anonymous crush confession column in the school newspaper and Louis has quite the crush to write in about.

no place to call home (22k)

Or, Louis isn't Peter Pan and Harry isn't Wendy and Neverland is nothing like Harry thought it would be, but it's perfect anyway.

show a little mercy (3k)

Louis hates him so, so much. But then again, he’s never loved someone quite so fiercely.

Or, Louis and Harry try to break up. (Or, a drabble based on Love You Goodbye)

kiss me on the mouth and set me free (17k)

Or, Louis is a gamer and Harry is a beauty guru, and VidCon is a good place to fall in love.

sing me like a choir (17k)

Or, Harry is nervous to do actual makeup on his channel, until his boyfriend Louis helps him out.

please don’t bite (21k)

Or, Harry releases his own line of beauty products, and Louis feels abandoned when Harry’s newfound fame gets the best of him.

underneath the christmas tree (17k)

Louis sends Harry on a scavenger hunt on Christmas Eve.

to be loved and to be in love (50k)

Harry and Louis' first year as a couple, as captured by snippets of home movies.

hope your heart is strong enough (4k)

Prompt: Set in the US, Harry spends Thanksgiving with Louis' family, or vice versa. Chaos ensues.

to watch you fall (16k)

Or, Harry is lonely and Louis is engaged to be married.

give me your hand and i’ll hold it (18k)

Prompt: Harry (9) moves in next to Louis (11). They have little roofs under their bedroom windows and like to sit there and talk. Seven years later, Louis has to leave for college.

you make me strong (14k)

Louis comes home from war with a few more problems than he left with, but Harry can't find it in himself to let him go.

[ghostcat3000]

Fic Writer Interview

I was tagged by @irazor​ and I’m late on my reply. sorry. my apologies.

Name: ghostcat3000 here and Ghostcat on AO3

Fandoms: SKAM, Call Me By Your Name, The Defenders/Jessica Jones, Daredevil, Veronica Mars, Gilda, The Clouds of Sils Maria, You’re the Worst, The Zero Effect, New Girl, The Handmaid’s Tale

Where you post: AO3 (link above)

Most Popular One-shot: II. Andante, which, while technically part of a larger series, can stand-alone. For CMBYN, romantic dithering in late ‘80s NYC. 

Most Popular Multichap: Also, technically part of that same series, but III. Rondo: Allegretto Moderato. A first-person exercise in fevery Id. CMBYN and could be read as a stand-alone but works best when read after the story above.

Favorite story you’ve written so far: My favorites are almost always stories I am currently writing. In this case, it will be:

1. My SKAM Nordic noir AU Rest Easy which is my first time writing a proper, plotty genre story. I really love these versions of the characters and the whole vibe of the piece. A labor of love with ten readers and I know them all by their actual names. Everyone else will be like, que?

2. [spoiler redacted]* (*not the actual title) which I am currently co-writing with @irazor​ since--checks chat--October of last year. It was supposed to have been a porny one-shot but it has become a long, tonally complicated love story. It is so profoundly lovely in parts (Raz) and incredibly fucking goofy in others (me). We’ve written it with a lot of laughter and love so we hope our readers love it as much as we do.

3. For posted stories, I’m going to say Five Stages of Grief (The Never Mind The Albatross Remix). It’s a remix of an excellent story by igrockspock but it’s about something else entirely and it’s less than 1k words. It’s very simple but I think it packs a punch.

Fic you were nervous to post: Probably IV. Finale: Rubato e affettuoso, also from the CMBYN Piano Sonata in G Major, "Pense-bête" series. It’s so tricky, structurally, it has to mirror the final movement of a sonata, which are the previous chapters...and it’s smut-heavy, but like, feelings porn heavy on the characterization piece. I worked super, duper hard on it and kind of lost it a little. I really liked parts of it a lot but I had a feeling it wouldn’t be well-received. There’s still one chapter left and a part of me thinks that maybe an unfinished sonata is the way to go. I know how it ends, which is well, so I know I’ll finish it eventually. I have a few dedicated readers that I definitely think deserve a good landing on that one.

How do you choose your titles: Song lyrics usually. Or poetry. Something relating to the story itself.

Do you outline: In my head. 

Complete: I have four unfinished stories. This is why lately I have been trying to post only when a story is complete. So I can stop being that person.

In progress: See above. Plus bits and bobs of some very strange AU ideas, one of which will definitely be part of... 

Coming soon/not yet started: ...SKAM Big Bang 2021, which I am helping to moderate. The stories I am juggling have the TBD titles of: Slug Juice, Rødekornet, and Drinking the Kool-Aid. Plus a Killing Eve AU that would disappoint everyone.

Prompts?: I don’t do prompts because I will fuck up your prompt so hard that you’ll be left wondering what you did to deserve such horrors.

Upcoming work you’re most excited about: Good ole [spoiler redacted]* and Rest Easy, fo sho.

Tagging: no pressure of course @ferrame @blithers @angel-in-new-york-city @isaksbestpillow @etal-late @teejaysnow

[stvlti]

2020 Creator Wrap

I was tagged by @irolltwenties to do the 2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite Works tag! Thank you, lovely (*˘ ε ˘*)

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Before I begin, let me just tag some friends:

@reaperlight @3dnygma @drowthelynes @transdankovsky @fantomn @lawliyeeeet @dressed-to-keehl @setfa @0akdown @reidsnor @clubolive @mermaides

No pressure, but it would be fun if you guys share some of your works this year ( ˘︶˘ ) let’s see those fics and edits and artworks!! Get the clicks and views y’all deserve 💕 💕

And now, onwards to my 2020 Favorite Works List!

I didn’t write nearly as much as some of you guys did. And though I did exceed my goal of putting out 1 fic per month, I don’t have 5 solid ones I’m proud of. So I’ll just list 4 fics here:

01 // Growing Pains

I’ve always been very nervous about reccing this one, because it broaches a topic that I don’t really have a right to claim? I’m not transgender myself, but I simply adore the trans Dick Grayson headcanon so much it singlehandedly brought me back to the DC fandom and restarted my fanfic-writing habit for 2020 😂😂 plus the writing quality isn’t half bad, and I still really like the idea/metaphor this little story started with and grew from. 

Fave moment (besides the obvious):

"Ka-Pow!!" The boy ventriloquised. Lego Robin sailed through the air in his fingers. One stubby, outstretched leg made contact with a Lego henchman, knocking all the surrounding baddies over like bowling pins. "Sorry Mr. Bad Guys, guess it's way past your bedtime too!"

"Good job, Robin." The boy lowered his prepubescent voice and tried to affect Batman's gravelly timbre as much as possible. In his other hand, he walked Lego Batman across the floor of the crime scene. "How about we round them up and leave it for the Commish? It's getting quite late."

"Oh oh! Can I have cookies on the ride back?"

The boy swivelled Lego Batman's grinning face around. "I don't see why not."

Another night out in Lego Gotham City, another day saved by the Dynamic Duo. This called for a celebration indeed. The boy set the pair of heroes down by the Lego Batmobile and reached over to his own plate of Alfred's after-school chocolate chip cookies. He took his sweet time with the last piece, savouring each bite, sighing at the way it melted on his tongue.

02 // Transference 

This is my best-performing fic in terms of the kudos to hits ratio, so I feel validated in being proud of this one :’) It’s a pretty good marker of the distances I’ve covered since getting serious about reading the comic source material end of 2019, as you can see from the much broader and varied cast of characters I focused on for this story. It also definitely cemented - to me, at least - the fact that I can write action scenes. When I went into “Second Chances” (a fem Jay fic) earlier this year, I was so nervous about writing the action sequence there, because I’ve never written a serious action scene up until that point! To me, this fic definitely showcases the growth I’ve experienced as a writer this year ^_^

Fave moment: (CONTAINS SPOILERS, PLEASE READ THE FIC FIRST IF YOU HAVEN’T!)

When the trio return, Ivy takes her place at the meeting table with a severe expression on her face. She chooses her words carefully, when she speaks. "The odds aren't pretty. We just accepted 100 refugees over the weekend, and the Green is still repairing itself after last week's attack."

Rose exchanges a glance with Jason. He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, though he's not looking any better than she feels.

"But, each and everyone of us stayed behind to defend the Garden, because we all believed in giving a sanctuary for the civilian survivors out there.

"So bring them here. I'll take them in."

No sooner has Ivy finished the sentence, than Zatanna and Constantine have fired up their teleportation portal, and Harley's cheerful "Good luck!" is lost to the mad dash off to the rescue mission. The rest of the Shadowpact scramble after Rose as she launches herself through the portal—

—and slams into Arsenal, pushing him out of the way seconds before a meteoric explosion of green fire incinerates the very spot he'd been standing in.

03 // Paying It Forward

This one is important to me if only for the reason that it’s the first time I’ve written character dialogues that flowed. And I didn’t even need to plan them out meticulously beforehand! Do you know how rare that is for me as an ESL writer? Dialogues have been the bane of my existence since I started writing as a wee teen. Luckily, the Titans TV show has some solid character dynamics for me to fall back on. And from there I started reading NTT era Dick & Donna, and I just fell in love with their friendship. And now, I can turn to this fic as proof I still got it whenever I doubt my abilities as a writer c:

Fave moment:

Dick glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "She ran out on you?"

"No, no, we never really... I don't think it counts as running away if it never led to anything more."

"But you wanted it to be more." Dick paused, taking in Donna's silence, which would've fooled anyone else but him. "You still want it."

"I-- yeah." Donna sighed and held her hands up as if to say you caught me. "I'm... Sorry? For stealing your girl?"

Dick laughed, bemused. "She was never mine. She knew what she wanted, what she needed - and I wasn't in the right place to give her that."

"And you? You think I'm what she needs?"

"Better you than me. You're Donna Troy. Older, smarter, prettier..."

Donna gave him a deadpan stare.

"... And you know who you want to be. She likes that in a partner. I'm still figuring that one out for myself." Dick stretched his arms up and then leaned back into his seat, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stared up into the ceiling.

04 // When I'm down on my knees, you're how I pray

I’m including this one just to showcase I got the range, babey. And honestly, the fact that I was able to write this fic and actually receive positive reviews for it was a surprise to me too!! This was the first time I ever attempted to write a real darkfic with dead dove subject matters, and I managed to nail the emotional manipulation, somehow ;__; It was a real learning experience too, learnt so much about Catholicism just to write about Dick’s guilt issues in an AU setting nobody asked for 🤡

Fave moment: (dead dove warnings apply)

"Not at all, Richard," Roman said. The boy would come to him, eventually. "Now, it's getting late. If that's all, I'll have Jason fetch your room keys. Seven Hail Mary's before bed, and think about everything we've just discussed. Tomorrow we'll do a proper debriefing."

"I... Okay." For a moment, Dick sounded like he had more to say. Instead, Roman heard a muffled sniffle, one that Dick likely tried to disguise with a hand over his mouth. Silly boy.

"Thank you again, Father," Dick said, after a beat.

"All in a day's work, my child." Roman unlatched the door and stepped out of the booth. He nodded at Dick as the younger man ambled out of the booth after him. "Goodnight now, Richard."

As he set off for the living quarters, Dick called out. "Wait!"

Roman turned around, inclining his head.

"Will you stay?" The candlelight chased shadows away from Dick's face, and for one glorious moment, Roman could see the depth of the desperation shining in Dick's blue eyes.

"Guide me through my prayers. Please."

Roman smiled.

-

Oh did you think I was done? 😂 It did say Favourite Works and not just Favourite Fics, so I gotta include this one on the list too:

05 // 2020 Jason Todd Birthday edit

I said Robin Jason deserves better and I meant it! 👏👏 This edit took me 12 hours and 67 layers ‘cause I made a mistake on like my 8th hour into the editing process o__o but it ended up being my most popular serious graphic edit, so it was worth it. I guess! 

I mean the likes to reblog ratio is still fucked but hey, I broke 1k, which is more than I can say for any of my other edits

[atruththatyoudeny]

Monthly Reads | July 2019

Happy 28th! Sending out all my love to the authors and artists in this fandom! ♥ Here are all the fics I read and loved this month:

The sanctity of patience | scrunchyharry | historical - arranged marriage - royalty - 22k When young Lord Harry was chosen by King Louis of Bavaria to become his husband and prince consort, Harry thought all of his dreams had come through. His illusions came crashing down when he understood it meant living in isolation in the alpine castle of Neuschwanstein with a husband who turned out to be far from what he had hoped for. His illusions vanished, Harry will have learn to appreciate what has and even, perhaps, fall in love with his imperfect husband and his castle.

The Charles Compass Trilogy | SadaVeniren | fluff - humour - 8k Louis Tomlinson is a successful writer who rents a beach house on the Cape to try and finish the final book in his successful Charles Compass trilogy.

Stealing Flowers | lululawrence | mutual pining - humour - fluff - 4k The one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.

If You Wanna Try Me On | zimriya | The Devil Wears Prada AU - boss/employee relationship - 18k To be fair, Harry’d been half asleep when Niall convinced him to put in his CV in the first place. Like, Harry wants to be a proper serious journalist--he’s not about to give up that dream in favour of becoming a personal assistant at a fashion magazine, or...whatever. Harry’s not actually all that sure what Tomlinson Styles even is, beyond his ticket to fame or any of the other things Niall’d spouted off at him, but when he shows up for the interview and is unceremoniously shoved into an office with the Tomlinson part of that equation, all Harry can really think about is that he would like to be a Tomlinson-Styles. ...or the Devil Wears Prada AU that no one wanted. Sort of.

Play Me A Memory | jacaranda_bloom | strangers to lovers - kid fic - emotional hurt/comfort - fluff - 27k Louis lives with his nine-year-old son Jake in a peaceful beachside community on the east coast of Australia, working as an entertainment coordinator at the local five-star resort. Harry is a recluse who lives on millionaires row and writes musical scores for blockbuster movies. When the roots of a wayward willow tree create havoc at his home, Harry is forced to stay at the resort while repairs are carried out. Cue matchmaking storms, muffin preferences, laughter, love, and a whole lotta music.

No Love Like Your Love | Rearviewdreamer | a/b/o - enemies to friends - exes to lovers - soulmates - soulbonding - 43k When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved.

Not (heart) Broken | glitteredcurls | soulmates - superpowers - mild hurt/comfort - 14k Every person is born with a unique, personal Ability and a soulmate. Abilities are developed from birth and treasured as parts of each person’s personality, while a soulmate is somewhat of an intimidating prospect; the minute two soulmates are in contact with each other, their powers are voided, only to be reinstated when they regain their distance. How is Harry, a young healer, supposed to feel about the possibility of losing his helpful healing Ability with one look of his unknown soulmate? He figures it can’t be too inconvenient. Until Harry meets them and, well, it kind of is...

Fall in love with the moon (and everything beautiful) | louistomlinsons | fluff - light angst - anxiety - friends to lovers - 10k Louis and harry work in a bookstore together and harry tells dumb jokes and they fall in love

There You Are | lovelarry10 | stripper/exotic dancer - mutual pining - angst - divorce - cheating - emotional hurt/ comfort - 82k Harry’s entire life has fallen apart - in one night, his carefully planned future is suddenly uncertain. Then he meets Louis.

Tiptoe Through Our Shiny City | graceling_in_a_suit | inspired by Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist - miscommunication - mistaken identity - strangers to lovers - famous/non famous - 8k Where’s Fluffy Announces Secret London Show TONIGHT!' Harry stopped breathing. “Pinch me, Niall,” he mumbled. The story of how Harry sees his favourite band live for the first time, and maybe falls in love along the way. AU Loosely inspired by Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. Loosely.

You Have to Retreat to Advance | 2tiedships2 | a/b/o - fake/pretend relationship - strangers to lovers - 18k The one where Harry is expected to bring his longterm omega to the company's mountain retreat. Since he hadn't told anyone that they'd broken up months ago, he now has to find someone willing to play the part.

Shine On (You Crazy Diamond) | larrymaybe22 | 1970's - glam rock - famous/not famous - strangers to lovers - hurt/comfort - angst - substance abuse - alcohol abuse - internalized homophobia - homophobic language - slow burn - 58k The year is 1974 and Britain’s glam rock scene is in full swing. Enter Louis, a broke and dejected student who finds himself on a tour bus of all places, working as a roadie for the enigmatic “womanizer” Harry Styles. Along the way, Louis discovers the cruelty of fame and that maybe there is more than meets the eye beyond the curls, cocaine, and crazy suits.

Could you love me anyway | SadaVeniren | canon compliant - post-The X Factor era - bdsm - bad bdsm etiquette - dom/sub - under-negotiated kink - subdrop - kink negotiation - mildly dubious consent - 13k Harry and Louis begin playing ping pong during the X-Factor Tour. It quickly gets out of hand.

Easier | allwaswell16 | a/b/o - soulmates - soul bond - exes to lovers - getting back together - angst - fate - destiny - 6k The last person Louis wants to see is his ex-boyfriend who also happens to be his soulmate.

Hot Buns | Snowy38 | TV show - hate to love - angst - drama - emotional hurt/comfort - 51k “You can call me Harry if you like.” “Is that your name?” Louis checked. Harry smirked. “Actually, it’s Harold but I hate it. I hate everything about my life but what do you care?” Louis licked his lips and caught his knees up under his arms. “I care enough to get you out of the gutter, mate,” he accused softly.

I'm Tripping Over Your Every Single Move | lookingfortherainbow | meet-cute - first dates - pining - fluff - 6k Harry is the local swimming star athlete and Louis is the lifeguard that turns Harry into a fish out of water.

The Aurora Zone | Anonymous | blind date - enemies to lovers - 19k The one where Harry is busy crossing off his bucket list while Louis is busy falling for the guy he's supposed to hate.

I've spent a lifetime running (and I always get away) | Anonymous | first meetings - fluff - 5k The eruption of an Icelandic volcano (the name of which Louis decidedly cannot pronounce) really shouldn't be the catalyst for a relationship with a boy he's only just met. Or // the one where Louis and Harry share the back of a car, a cramped bed on a dingy, highly unsafe boat, and their adoration for art (and perhaps each other).

Haunting Beauty | 4ureyesonly28 | 1980's - ghosts - fluff - 6k It’s 1988. Harry has just finished his first year of teaching English and looks forward to a relaxed break. Louis is a poltergeist and has different plans for Harry’s summer.

Meet Me in Montauk | make_this_feel_like_home | Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Fusion - amnesia - strangers to lovers - lost love - angst - 84k The one where Harry has amnesia, Louis can't handle the pain and Lacuna Inc provides a unique service: the ability to erase a person from your memories.

Two to Tango (series) | rainbowslovehl (Larrymateforlife) ➊  Put Your Best Foot Forward - fluff - meet-cute - ballroom dancing - 6k Louis loses a bet and has to go learn waltz. Harry is the guy who won’t stop stepping on his foot. ➋  Af-fur-mative - fluff - 1k Harry is anxious about the first meeting between his moody cat and Louis.

Uni AU (series) | lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) ➊  This Might Tickle - Larry - fluff - 4k Louis' been admiring Harry from afar until they become study partners for their first year anatomy class. ➋  When You Smile - Ziam - fluff - 2k Liam’s never seen Zayn smile during classes, but a trip to the zoo for their studies helps him see a lot more. ➌  The Doppler Effect - Larry - Halloween - fluff - 2k There's only one person who figures out Harry's Halloween costume ➍  A Work of Art - Ziam - smut - 4k Zayn meets Liam before he realises he’s the life model for his extra credit class. ➎  My Favourite Word - Larry - fluff - fake/pretend relationship - 3k Louis’ ex boyfriend won’t leave him alone, so Harry steps in.

With Words Unspoken | Anonymous | 1960's - 1970's - strangers to lovers - Louis is 49 - Harry is 47 - mentions of past divorce - fluff - fate - sexual awakening k The one where Louis is lost, Harry is an excellent tour guide, and age is no barrier to finding the love of your life.

Whipped Cream | writingstylinson | hearing impaired - pining - 24kk Harry isn't focused on anything except growing his online photography business and keeping his service dog at his side. It's important since he's always being undermined due to his deafness. The last thing Harry needs are his client's brother trying to convince him to go out on a date with him.

[nekojitachan]

Falling

This is one of my owed fics from the aftgremix ‘guess which fic is mine’ challenge - @filteredred asked for a story based on the prompt by  @veronicabuncherites 10.  you’ve been breaking into my car to sleep at night and I’ve let it slide because it’s been cold out but I have a date and I need you to find somewhere else (fine, go in my house/garage, I don’t care, you’re not messing this date up for me)   (found here), for andreil.

I hope I did it justice, of course the mind went in one direction and blew the 1k minimum out of the water. *sighs*

Ah... guess ‘T’ rating - lots of references to Andrew’s childhood in the foster system (nothing graphic, just the whole ‘NOT GOOD’ thing), and dating references. Also, mention of a character being homophobic. This is an AU PSU fic, too.

*******

Andrew internally sighed when he got out to his car and realized that Josten had crashed in it yet again. Normally he tried to overlook it (even though it was his car) because it was cold out, Josten was a fellow former foster kid and the idiot would just sleep outside on a bench or something rather than put up with his asshole roommate – it had absolutely nothing to do with big blue eyes and dark auburn curls which fell into them when not pulled back by atrociously orange bandanas and an impossibly perfect ass.

Absolutely nothing.

Josten was mouthy, temperamental rookie who enjoyed Exy way too much and had been damaged by the same fucked-up system which had spit out Andrew, to the point that Foxes’ favorite bet on the kid (other than him starting fights) was if he was gay or straight. It was almost through the end of the fall semester and Josten showed no sign of helping his teammates settle the bet anytime soon, as he ignored anyone not on the team and even then his relationship with the rest of the Foxes could only be considered ‘platonic’ at best.

Such as him sleeping in someone’s car to avoid dealing with his homophobic, envious, asshole roommate.

Andrew banged on the roof of the GS a couple of times to wake the idiot and avoid a repeat of Neil pulling a knife on him upon being woken up without warning; he’d much rather save the ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ for his date later that night.

As expected, there was the sound of muted cursing when Neil jolted awake, followed by movement as Neil scrambled to grab his meager things (and brandish the ever-present weapon) until he realized it was Andrew standing outside. Then he gave Andrew a tentative wave before he put away the knife and opened the nearest back door. “Hi.”

Andrew gave him a cool look until the freshman exited his car. “Again?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Josten dumped his ratty backpack on the ground and huddled inside his overlarge second-hand coat, the hood of the sweatshirt worn beneath it pulled over his head; he looked ridiculously young at the moment, looked ridiculously attractive with those blue eyes and sharp cheekbones and full bottom lip, which made something inside of Andrew clench hard when he thought about the kid in the foster system. “It was Seth and Allison last night, seems they’re back on this week.”

Huh, usually Renee gave Andrew some sort of warning when her bitch roommate hung out with the loser so he was prepared to find Josten camping out in the GS. “Well, if they’re back at it tonight, find somewhere else.” At Josten’s curious look, Andrew motioned to his car. “I’ve a date.”

“Oh.” Josten hunched his shoulders at the news then gave a lopsided smile. “That’s fine, it’s not supposed to rain or anything so I’ll be fine.”

The idiot was going to camp outside, Andrew thought as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The temps were barely above freezing as an unexpected cold front covered the South, and Josten just shrugged at the thought of ‘roughing it’, even if he was supposed to be from Maryland or some other Northern state.

Josten didn’t say much about himself, other than his parents were dead and he’d ended up in the foster system afterwards at a young age, and Wymack was unusually tight-lipped about the kid, too. All the man had told the team was that Josten was damn good at Exy and had ‘anger and trust issues’, and so was a prime candidate for the Foxes. He’d been Wymack’s and Kevin’s first pick for the team, and those ‘issues’ had basically ensured that not many other teams had wanted him.

Andrew found it suspicious that there’d been precious little in the kid’s file when he’d broken into Wymack’s office to check him out.

Upon meeting him, Andrew had taken in the attitude, the spewed insults, the almost desperate ‘don’t fuck with me’ air and the hidden knives, and gone off to his session with Bee to inform her with some satisfaction that she’d definitely be earning her pathetic paycheck that year.

After she met the idiot, she remarked about how nice it was, for the Foxes to have a new player so devoted to the sport – and an attractive player at that, and when Andrew gave her a blank look in return, produced the low hum she always did when she knew she’d scored a point.

So by all rights, Andrew should just walk away… but for some stupid reason he thought about Nicky taking in him and Aaron, about Wymack offering his brother a scholarship as well as him, about Renee and her knives and offer to teach him how to fight with them.

About a stubborn, mouthy redhead sleeping out in the cold.

“Look, Aaron’s going to be off with his girlfriend,” Andrew managed to get the words out without clenching his jaw too much, “and Kevin’s spending the weekend at Coach’s shitty place, so the room will be empty tonight. You can crash in Kevin’s bed, I’m sure he won’t mind.” The Exy addict would probably be pleased that his mini-me was getting a proper night’s sleep for once.

Josten gave him a wary look as he picked up his backpack. “What about you?”

“Hot date, remember? I shouldn’t be back tonight.” If all went well, at least; Andrew and Roland had been circling around each other for a while, and finally were to go out after Roland’s shift at Eden’s ended that night.

Josten gazed at him for a couple of seconds as if debating what to do or if it was a trap of sorts, but for the most part, the two of them got along – Andrew did let the kid crash in his car, after all, and Josten treated him with respect (or what Josten considered ‘respect’ – a bare minimum of antagonism and insults). “Okay, thanks.” He shivered a little as he shoved his bare hands into the pockets of his thrift-store coat. “I mean, it wouldn’t have been too bad, sleeping on the roof….”

“Come to my dorm room at seven-thirty,” Andrew said, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

“Okay,” Josten repeated before flashing him a wide grin and taking off, in the direction of the stadium, of all places. Andrew figured he was headed there to bother Wymack and get some practice in (and avoid his roommate as much as possible); he pushed all thoughts of the rookie striker out of his head (or tried to) as he got into his car and headed out for coffee and donuts.

Aaron was up when he returned to the dorm, eyes bleary and hair still flattened from bed. “Coffee?” he grunted out as soon as he saw Andrew; he’d spent the entire ride back from their game at Madison studying for an exam on Monday, and would head over to the cheerleader’s to resume in a little bit.

“With extra shots of espresso,” Andrew said as he set the drink carrier on the counter, along with the box of donuts. “And the cherry jelly donuts you like.”

His brother made a pleased noise as he shuffled forward to grab at the large cup of coffee. Andrew waited until he had several sips and a donut before he spoke again. “Josten’s going to crash here tonight.”

“Eh? Neil?” Aaron frowned as if trying to make sense out of the words and grabbed another donut. “What, he fighting with the asshole again?”

When wasn’t Josten fighting with Gordon? The upperclassman was an asshole to everyone, and Josten being a better striker than him meant that he was constantly goading the temperamental rookie on, much to most of the Foxes’ annoyance. “Seems that the asshole got back together with Reynolds.”

“Ah. Well, fine with me, I’ll be at Katelyn’s because of the Physio exam.” Aaron gazed at Andrew as if daring him to object.

“And I’ll be staying with Roland after going to Eden’s,” he shot back; they stared at each other before Aaron looked away first so he could have some more coffee.

It wasn’t perfect, their ‘acceptance’ of each other’s ‘dating’ preferences, but Nicky had forced the two of them to sit down and hash out their differences before he’d returned to Germany. Andrew didn’t step in with Aaron’s girlfriends unless there was proof they were using his brother for something (which unfortunately wasn’t the case with Katelyn – at least yet), and Aaron kept his shitty, homophobic comments to himself. To be fair, Aaron did seem to be working on getting better in not being such a bastard in that regard after finding out that Andrew was gay.

“Whose bed is he using?” Aaron asked once he finished another donut.

“Kevin’s.”

Aaron gave him an odd look like that before sipping his coffee, which made Andrew narrow his eyes. “What?”

“Just… the guy’s not bad looking, considering how half the Vixens flirt with him all the time, and you actually let him live after breaking into your car. Would have thought you might have wanted the excuse to get him into your bed.”

Andrew had the last bite of his cream-filled donut then brushed the powdered sugar from his hands as he gave his brother a cold look. “I didn’t kill him because it would have gotten blood all over the car.”

“A car which you still let him sleep in,” Aaron argued. “All the time.”

“Because he doesn’t fuck with it, he just sleeps there.” Why did he have to defend himself like this?

“You don’t let anyone drive that thing, and you nearly took off Kevin’s arm when you thought he scratched it the one time.”

Andrew gave him a look which clearly asked ‘your point’?

“And don’t think that I haven’t noticed the way you stare at his ass during practice,” Aaron added with evident relish. “You like him. You let him sleep in your car without stabbing him and now you’re letting him crash in our room because you like him, the walking disaster he is.” Aaron wrinkled his nose as if mildly disgusted. “So why are you going out with Roland, who’ll sleep with anyone, instead of Neil?”

“Because Roland will sleep with anyone,” Andrew quipped, just to annoy his brother. “And I don’t like Josten.”

“Ew, didn’t need to know that.” Aaron rubbed at his eyes as if trying to erase some awful image from his head. “And I think you’re just too afraid of being turned down. Don’t know why, you’re the only one he doesn’t give shit to all the time.” He seemed to think of something. “You and Renee.”

Yeah, because Josten knew that Renee wasn’t the goody two-shoes she appeared to be, had somehow caught a glimpse of ‘Natalie’ carefully hidden beneath the cross necklace and friendly smiles. Oh, Andrew was so curious about the rookie’s past, about what really had happened to his parents, about the old, faded scars on that runner’s body he thought about much too much….

“Your brains are scrambled from too much caffeine, it’s not looking good for your grades,” Andrew taunted as he grabbed another donut, which earned him a rude gesture from his ‘beloved’ twin. At least Aaron dropped the topic after that, in favor of brewing a pot of coffee then getting ready so he could leave for Katelyn’s.

Kevin finally stumbled out of bed an hour or so later, and perked up when Andrew told him he had to change the sheets of his bed since Josten would be using it later that night. “He’s sleeping here? Good.” He scowled at the coffee pot as if offended that it was only half-full then grabbed it to pour himself a cup. “Dad tried to give him and Seth some time to work things out, but he’s about to give him a key to the stadium so he can crash there rather than keep sleeping in your car or somewhere worse, especially with winter approaching.”

There was that damn clenching feeling inside of Andrew at the thought of not going out to his car on the weekends or even before practice during the week on rare occasions to find Josten asleep in the back, curled up in a small ball with his ridiculous hair a mess and pale blue eyes hooded with sleep, a sheepish smile on his face at being caught out there again.

Dammit, Andrew needed his date with Roland.

Kevin checked his phone while drinking his coffee, and must have gotten a text from Wymack about helping out with a certain Exy-addicted rookie hanging out at court because he cursed beneath his breath and whipped up one of his disgusting smoothies which he gulped down before he jumped in the shower, then asked Andrew for a ride to the stadium. For a moment, Andrew almost said ‘no’, but he figured he could always pick up a few things while out.

“After you change your sheets.”

“Right.” Kevin nearly tripped over his own feet as he ran back to the shared bedroom.

And there he was, the ‘great’ Kevin Day, Exy’s best collegiate striker (well, unless you were a Ravens’ fan), a complete airhead off the court (and outside of a history class).

Andrew couldn’t wait until he got to Eden’s.

He dropped off his roommate and ran a few errands, went back to Fox Tower to take a nap then went up to the roof to have a smoke. While he was there, Renee stopped by to chat.

“Gordon and Reynolds,” Andrew started as she handed him a mug of hot chocolate.

“Yes.” She frowned a little as if thinking of what to say, bundled in an old coat and a long, orange knitted scarf with matching mittens on her hands. “I was tired from the game and went straight to bed last night, and didn’t realize that Allison left at some point to go to Seth’s room – I thought she just got up for an icepack because of her elbow.” She appeared chagrined about that, since Renee usually paid better attention to things, but it had been an exhausting game and she’d taken a rough hit herself from an asshole backliner who’d crossed the goal line which had allowed Kevin to score a penalty point. “I guess it was so bad that Matt and Kelly heard them in the next room, so it’s no wonder that Neil went out to your car. Dan’s not happy with her.”

Andrew scoffed to show what he thought about that, and the effect it would have on either Reynolds or Gordon.

“Yes, I know,” Renee sighed before she had some hot chocolate. “At the least, Neil should have a reprieve in another couple of weeks when the two start fighting again.”

Ah, someone was showing her claws, how rare. “Or Gordon’s grades finally slip enough to get him kicked off the team.” Andrew pulled on a mock innocent expression when Renee gave him a hurt look. “What? One can dream, can’t they?” At the least, he only had to deal with the homophobic loser for another semester.

“I won’t even bother,” Renee said as she shook her head. “Matt feels really bad for Neil, he’s debating offering to switch rooms with him even though Wymack had wanted to give the two a chance to ‘bond’ as strikers.” A sad smile curled her lips when Andrew scoffed again. “It’s a shame that Neil’s too wary to make any friends, even though most of the team is trying with him, and some people in his classes from what I hear.” For some reason she gazed at him with an inscrutable expression while she spoke.

There were two main types of foster kids, in Andrew’s experience – the ones who tried so hard to be liked, who were friendly and outgoing and did their best to please, to make friends wherever they ended up, to fit in, to not be picked on (to be hurt and torn apart and outcast). Sometimes it worked out for them, and sometimes… sometimes it eventually became too much, the system (the abuse). Then there were the ones like Andrew, the ones who kept a low profile, who didn’t try because what good did it ever do them? All it ever did was make them stand out, make them more of a target, made unwanted eyes and unwanted attention (unwanted hands and unwanted touches) be drawn their way, made things worse.

Neil Josten? The boy with the striking (ha) pale blue eyes and tousled dark red hair just begging to be touched (to be grabbed) and too-pretty face? He clearly had learned that it was best to not be friendly, to keep everyone at arm’s length with a sharp tongue at the very least, and sharper objects if possible.

No, Neil Josten didn’t do ‘friends’. Yet he still seemed to trust Andrew enough to sleep in his car, and accept his offer of a safe place to spend the night.

Andrew found himself leaning forward to let the rush of fear as he gazed at the ground four stories below overwhelm that damn clenching sensation in his chest.

Renee remained a little longer while they finished the hot chocolate then left with the empty mugs, and Andrew went back down after another cigarette. He read some before he gave in to the urge to clean, which he put down to the fact that neither Kevin nor Aaron were around to bitch about him throwing out things or moving around their stuff.

It wasn’t that he wanted the place to look good for Josten, not at all.

Once that was done, he got ready for the night, taking the time to shave and style his hair. It wasn’t often he went out on ‘dates’, all things considered. He didn’t often find guys who weren’t interested in anything more than getting off who could follow his rules, who stopped when he said ‘no’ and didn’t cross clearly defined boundaries. Since Geoff had moved to Atlanta, Andrew needed a new fuckbuddy, and Roland appeared more than eager to be it.

It was a couple minutes before seven-thirty when there was a knock on the door, but Andrew didn’t mind since he was bored and had nothing to do. He opened it to find Josten on the other side, a wary expression on his face (one of his defaults, that or the sharp grin he wore when about to verbally tear into someone or step out on a court, or an otherwise blank expression) as he clutched the strap of his orange and white backpack in his hands, dressed in the usual worn jeans and oversized, light grey cotton hooded t-shirt. “Uhm, are you still sure….”

Andrew motioned him inside as he stepped away from the door. “You’re sleeping in Kevin’s bed and there’s a towel for you in the bathroom. Don’t touch anything else.” He thought about that for a moment. “You can have Kevin’s energy bars and drinks.”

“It’s fine, I brought stuff.” Josten tugged on the strap of the backpack. “A couple of Seth’s friends came over, they’re planning on hanging out all night so… thanks.” He gazed at Andrew, seemed to take in his appearance then glanced away quickly.

Andrew told himself that he was imagining the slight flush to those sharp cheekbones.

He left after making sure that Josten knew which bed was Kevin’s (as if the PSU bedspread wasn’t a giveaway) and swore to not leave unless he locked the door behind him, then went on his way.

It was quiet in the car without Aaron in the passenger seat and Kevin in the back, arguing over what music to listen to on the drive or how the Foxes had played that week (more like Kevin bitch about how the Foxes had played). Andrew hated to admit that he’d grown used to their presence, to watching over Kevin almost as much as his brother, to no longer being so alone. He didn’t need anyone near him, was fine eating by himself at Sweeties’ (and picking up some cracker dust to enjoy later that night and to take back to PSU for Aaron, for after his exam), and sitting at the bar at Eden’s instead of the usual table.

Roland smiled at him once the bartender noticed his arrival, and spent a couple of minutes flirting while setting him up with a bottle of water and a couple of shots which Andrew nursed over time, along with a couple of packets of the cracker dust. He enjoyed the slight buzz of the drugs and alcohol while watching the people around him, the looks he garnered for the tight fit of his black t-shirt and armbands, and the occasional remark from Roland or the other staff who knew him from him and Aaron working as barbacks during the summers.

Andrew would check his phone from time to time (message from Kevin about an ‘amazing’ practice and getting on him to join in on the evening sessions next week - which wasn’t going to happen, Aaron asking to be put out of his misery, a couple from Nicky which were the usual rambling updates, a note from Renee that Gordon and his idiot friends were being especially rowdy that night so it was good that Neil had someplace quiet and warm to sleep).

“Oh, it looks serious, whatever it is,” Roland remarked as he set another shot of whiskey on the counter in front of Andrew. “Hot sext? Nice and steamy?”

Andrew gave the bartender a bland look for a couple of seconds before he clicked his tongue. “No.”

The curt answer seemed to affect Roland, since he gave a nervous laugh and took a step back. “Ah, okay. Is everything all right?”

“It’s fine.” Andrew internally winced as he thought about how often Josten said something similar, that the rookie insisted that he was all right even if he’d been knocked on his ass and was barely conscious. He stared at a man who’d been hit on so many times in the last couple hours, who was attractive and outgoing and more than willing to get him off that night and….

Nothing.

Well, not quite nothing. He thought about how Roland’s eyes weren’t an enticing pale blue, how his hair was too dark to be auburn, the short dreadlocks weren’t messy loose curls, the bone structure of his handsome face too strong and broad, just like his build, and… and….

Dammit, he wasn’t Neil Josten. Somewhere along the line, Andrew’s fucked up brain (and hormones) had become fixated on a half-feral, mouthy redheaded Exy-addict who treated him with cautious respect.

He was so screwed.

(Not that night, though.)

Numb with unwelcome realization, he grabbed the shot to down it in one go, set the glass back on the bar then reached for his wallet to pay his tab. “I’m done for the night,” he declared as he stood up and set the cash on the bar.

“Wait, what? But I still have to work ‘til close,” Roland shouted as he gawked at Andrew. “What about later?”

Andrew gave him a two fingered salute and walked away without any true regrets.

It was after midnight when he returned to Fox Tower; he could hear noise from the suite where Josten was supposed to room with Gordon, but it was quiet when he approached his own. Considering yesterday’s away game, sleeping in a car and then practicing all day, Andrew imagined that Josten had to be exhausted and probably was asleep, if he hadn’t left to crash someplace else.

He was quiet as he entered the suite, which was dark with the lights turned off and nothing obvious out of place. Andrew left his keys on his desk and his coat draped over the chair, then headed to the bedroom. He’d stepped into the short hallway which led to that room, along with the bathroom and kitchen, when a shadowy figure appeared in the bedroom doorway.

It was Josten, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, hair even more of a tousled mess than usual, with a knife in his hand. “Oh, it’s you.” He sounded tired and confused.

Andrew clicked his tongue as he leaned against the wall. “Really? I let you stay here and you repay me with blood on the carpet? How rude.”

Josten’s face grew flushed as he glanced at the knife then hid the hand holding it behind his back. “Uhm, I… what are you doing back?”

That wasn’t a denial that he hadn’t planned on stabbing someone, how interesting. “Change of plans.”

“Oh.” Something like disappointment flashed across Josten’s face for a moment and then he summoned up a weak smile. “Give me a minute to get my stuff and I’ll be out of your way,” he said before he turned around to go into the bedroom.

As if acting on its own, Andrew reached out to grab onto the loose sleeve of Josten’s t-shirt; he didn’t know who was more surprised, him for not being stabbed or Josten by the action. “You don’t have to leave,” Andrew said, his voice rough for some reason.

Josten frowned for a moment but didn’t pull away – in fact he remained still but didn’t seem tense or upset about Andrew’s nearness. “But you let me stay here because you’d be elsewhere. Now that you’re here, I’ll go.” That damn lopsided smile appeared as Josten nodded toward the front door. “There’s always your car, right?”

“Stay,” Andrew ordered as he let go. “Kevin changed his sheets, don’t let such a monumental effort be for nothing.”

Josten gave him an intent look as he sheathed the switchblade. “It won’t bother you, me being here?”

Oh, now that was a loaded question. “You snore?”

“No.”

“Then get back to bed.” He met Josten’s searching gaze with a blank one of his own until the rookie finally did as he’d been told.

Feeling drained all of a sudden, Andrew went into the bathroom to get ready for the night, and was pleased to notice that Josten hadn’t left a mess when he’d used it; the towel he’d left out for him had been refolded and placed on the sink, the only sign that someone had been in there. Andrew didn’t waste any time before he went into the bedroom.

Josten was in Kevin’s bed, the duvet pulled up to his nose and his eyes closed, but somehow Andrew doubted that the kid was asleep. He took his time changing into cotton pants and a clean t-shirt for bed, and noticed that the duvet was tugged up even higher when he went to climb into his bed.

Interesting.

It should bother him, having a stranger in the room, but from all appearances, Josten had obeyed the ‘don’t touch anything’ rule since nothing but the towel had been out of place, and had been willing to give up his warm bed for Andrew’s comfort. As much as he hated to admit that Aaron may be the slightest bit right….

Fuck.

Tomorrow, he told himself as he contemplated smothering himself with the pillow. Tomorrow he’d deal with this… whatever with Josten. Neil. With the improbable pipedream faking sleep a couple yards away.

At least his fucked-up hormones knew enough to fall for a pipedream who had good tastes when it came to picking cars to break into, he consoled himself right before falling asleep.

*******

I have WAY TOO MUCH of a backstory built for this, obviously. Nicky never worked at Eden’s, just Aaron and Andrew during summer breaks, so he never got beat up and Andrew put on drugs. That meant he could leave to go back to Germany, but not before he put some extra effort into making the twins get along better (a LITTLE easier to do since Andrew wasn’t on meds). Kevin went to Wymack, not the Nest, when his mother died. There’s still some Moriyama drama going on - Riko gave him grief for not going to E.A. for university, and for recruiting Andrew, which is why Andrew is watching out for Kevin (Riko tried to pull a stunt when Andrew turned down E.A, but Kevin had warned him beforehand that something might happen, so Andrew feels something is owed and refuses to let Riko win).

And of course, Neil ended up in the foster system - Mary and Nathan killed each other one night instead of her running away, and the Feds gave him a new name and put him in the system. While not the horror that Andrew endured... it wasn’t good, especially w/ the Feds shuffling him around all the time.

Uhm, think that’s the main stuff.

Anyway, @filteredred, I hope you liked it!

Three more to go, since this week is probably going to be really busy, I’m going to try to work on them and not Ghost in You (I FINALLY finished ch14), and then get back to that story.

[imaginaryelle]

fandom_stocking fics!

This was my first year doing fandom_stocking and I had a blast! I wrote 8 fics for it: seven for various Marvel universes (Steve/Tony,) and one for Band of Brothers (Winters/Nixon). And I realize this is super late but hey, I’ve been writing other events. Here they are anyway ^^

Marvel 616

Push Me Down and Hold Me Tight for @navaan (2.8k, Explicit, PWP with ~feelings)

"I can do handcuffs," Tony says.

“That's not what I asked,” Steve tells him. 

Stabilizing Procedures for @laireshi (2.3k, Teen, Domestic fluff, Kidfic)

Every once in a while, Steve needs to wrangle his husband and his kid. Sometimes he even takes care of himself, too. 

Marvel Noir

Winged Victory for @einheriar (4.5k, Teen, Wingfic, Getting Together)

Tony’s first thought when he sees the circling shape above the camp is, that bird is enormous. His second thought, as the form comes into focus, is that someone has actually managed to pull off Daedalus-style wing frames.

When the figure lands, the only word Tony can think of is angel.

Marvel 1872

Whiskey on the Rocks for willidothefandango (1.3k, Teen, Pining, Hurt/Comfort)

Without a proper doctor in town, the blacksmith is a decent stand-in.

Avengers Assembled

Cold Feet for @justanotherpipedream (500 words, Teen, Fluff)

Steve hogs the blankets.

Ambiguous Marvel AUs

The Grandest Adventures in the Land for @massivespacewren (~1k, Teen, implied Steve/Tony, medieval-esque)

Doreen has a plan. A plan to JOIN THE AVENGERS.

Chance Encounters for RossKL (1.7k, Teen, Soulmates coffeeshop AU)

Tony’s just trying to meet his deadlines. Soulmates are literally the last thing on his mind.

Band of Brothers

Stolen Heat for TwoAxes (3.8k, Mature, Huddling for Warmth, First Time)

“You gonna finish that?” Nix gestured at the half-empty mug with a restless movement, and Dick held the cooling drink out to him wordlessly. He tried not to lean in when Nix’s warmth settled against his shoulder, but the ridged press of wrinkled cloth at his side implied a lack of success. He watched Nix thread his fingers through the mug’s handle, tracked the movement to Nix’s lips, his friend’s scowl as the drink met his tongue, and kept his mind carefully empty.

[aparticularbandit]

Current State of Bandit Fic

The last official one of these was in May, and then the last other update of a general updating schedule magnitude was in July, so...it’s been a while, so it’s time for another one of these, I think.

Under the cut because I know these tend to get long and not everyone wants to read all of it and apologies to mobile users because I don’t think the cut works for y’all.  Sorry!

plans for the rest of the year in terms of updates:

I’ve updated my word count this month to 1.5k daily instead of 1k daily and then plan to up it to 2k daily during Nanowrimo - and then if that’s able to hold, I’m hoping to keep that daily 2k up during December (but with the holidays, who knows).

I really like doing those polls before the Monday updates to see what y’all want and then posting that - and I think, with the variations in what I have in backlog, that maybe works better until I have a bunch of backlog for a bunch of different projects (like how I had Carla finished and had Luisa and the Fox finished and so was really just alternating new writing in between ... was it maybe once a month?) - so I think, come November, I’ll probably do that again.  That way I’m updating projects I have stuff written for and don’t feel constrained to projects I don’t have written updates for and might feel constrained trying to write updates.

October is still Kiss Prompts Month - I do have fall prompts, too, but other than one, they’re unfinished and probably won’t get posted until November.

October Monday updates will also continue to be for Luisa and the Wolf because that is your spoopy Halloween holiday fic.  Huzzah.

November is Nanowrimo, but given the writing this month, I should be okay in terms of keeping up the Monday schedule.

I have:

one (1) chapter of Falling

two (2) chapters of Aftershocks

one (1) fall prompt

two (2) chapters of Bitches Get Glitches

potentially three if i split that third chapter up into two chapters, which i’m still seriously considering doing.

Those should cover the four Monday updates in November if I don’t write other stuff for them.

My focus for the rest of the year in terms of finishing something is to finish the rough draft of the first book of the Roisa HP AU.  That’s the book I’m planning to focus on during Nanowrimo, and hopefully I’ll be able to get the rough done so that I can get the first book to y’all sometime next year.

Roisa Secret Santa is a thing!  I’m organizing that and I hope that goes off really well!

I may do Christmas or holiday prompts in December - because I really like having short little prompts to work on when I don’t want to dive into a deeper chapter - something short to write instead of something longer is oddly nice - so we’ll see about that.

I also want to finish one of the Christmas fics I started last year, but it’s not good in terms of word count - like...you’ll understand if I post it - but that’s...a high priority.

Other than that, I don’t know what the Monday updates in December will be, but we can cross that bridge when we get there.

general fic updates (aka - i mostly stop using capital letters for whatever reason):

posted but incomplete fics:

if you lived here, you’d be home now:

no one’s asked but it’s been months since an update and it’s not that i don’t want to update, it’s that it’s been long enough that i feel i should finish a reread of what’s posted before starting the next chapter and i keep dragging my feet on that.

i actually have a good idea of what happens in the next several chapters, so that’s not the issue, it’s just getting myself to finish the reread and then actually doing the writing.

there’s still a lot of chapters left.  sorry?  maybe i’m sorry for not updating more regularly now that ACAL is finished. :/

jane: the real story:

this is on back-burner because, even though i’m really salty, i’ve found that when i hit hey, it’s time to write petra! i run into a wall of okay, but i know people love petra, and i know she has a very specific voice and tone and then i get kind of...overwhelmed and worried that she’ll be ooc.  which is probably why i haven’t written the next chapter yet (michael isn’t really like this, but he might be - and raf isn’t like this at all because raf in j:trs is meant to be a commentary on...raf).  i think it’s that i don’t have a well enough grip of writing petra closer to canon to feel up to par writing her in this situation.  maybe?  idk.

i know this is one of the most ... whatever fics on ao3 when it comes to my fics, so like, i’m aware of that, it’s just...back-burner right now.

heart in motion:

i actually started the second chapter of this a while back.  i should finish that.  if so, you might see it in a monday update poll   we’ll see.

luisa and the child:

aka the sequel to luisa and the fox

i have the first...two?  three? idk chapters written.  i’m still feeling out the plot - i have a good idea of bits and pieces of it, but i’m still waiting on those to come together in one cohesive thing.

similar to the last three chapters of luisa and the fox, i don’t plan on posting these until i’ve got the entire thing roughed out and gone through a second write.  maybe a beta.  not sure on that one yet.

sin rostro:

this is another one of those petra is an important character who shows up in the next chapter and i’m not sure i’ll write her well issues.  holding off on this one.

emilia antonia:

i have a general idea for what happens in the next chapter, as well as a general idea of what happens in the rest of the fic.  this one’s a matter of me sitting down and focusing on it and writing it, and i’ve been in a bandit writes lint fic headspace recently, which doesn’t bother me.

falling:

i feel like i should go back and resee some of the episodes of hannibal with margot in s2 and s3 and then review a bit of muskrat farm in s3 (as well as some of alana in s3) because that’s where lu is in chapter three.  because i haven’t, i’ve been holding off on writing this one, too, even though i...have a general idea of things that happen throughout the fic. but no real ending.

also maybe have a crack fic planned that would technically be a sequel to this one but would really be a crack fic.  maybe.  we’ll see.

aftershocks:

have two new chapters for y’all written.

have a general idea of what happens in the next chapter.

have a general idea of things that happen in later chapters but not sure where those chapters are in terms of how immediate they are, if that makes sense.

the time of your life:

bitches get glitches is completely done in terms of second write, so each chapter would probably just need a precursory read-through in terms of grammar/spelling/etc. and other minor edits.

with the exception of what would be the third chapter if i split the current third chapter into two chapters - the roisa scene probably warrants a little more than just a precursory read-through before posting.

i’ve started the next fic, which is rafael’s fic.  the next one would be petra’s.

basically, each of the first however many fics (four) focuses on one character and their encounters with their soulmate timer.

one screwed up family focused on rose, even though it also included luisa’s past with her timer.

bitches get glitches focuses on jane, even though it also includes carry-over updates on what’s been going on with luisa and rose since the first fic.

the third fic focuses on rafael.

the fourth fic focuses on petra.

at this point, i have a fairly good idea of when each of these five characters’ timers went off and when they might go off in future fics (i’d be more specific here, but spoilers!).

after those four, i would want to write a fifth fic that wraps things up - but this is kind of dependent on where things get left off in petra’s fic.

rafael’s encounters don’t finish in his fic, which leaves it on kind of a cliff-hanger, and i don’t think his final encounter happens in petra’s fic, so...fifth fic.

i’m actually hoping that writing petra in this fic will give me the confidence to write petra in the other fics she shows up.  so.  there’s that.

unposted fics:

where the lightning splits the sea:

aka roisa hp au

as stated before, the first book is my planned main project for nanowrimo and i hope to have the rough draft finished by the end of the year (we’ll see if that actually happens or not).

i have an entire series outline consisting of main things i want to happen in each book, along with their titles, and things that have to happen in specific books to set up for the proper pay off in later books.

the first book is entirely outlined - chapter by chapter.

i’ve started chapter-by-chapter outlines for books two and three.

the entire compiled outline alone is seventeen pages long.

i love this project a lot, and i’m super excited to share it with y’all, it’s just long.

mexican stud:

aka rosalint fic

i have a full working outline!  chapter by chapter!  huzzah!

this one still comes in bits and pieces and scenes that aren’t always interconnected.  i know what happens, but then pick and choose at scenes to write when i want to write it.

this fic will likely end up being fairly explicit - or, compared with other stuff i’ve written, more explicit - simply due to the themes and the content.  that may be part of why i take so long to write it - explicit scenes have a tendency to make me uncomfortable when i’m reading them and i don’t feel fully comfortable posting explicit scenes. but....

this would considered part of the epic superhero crossover (see below), even though the events are, to some extent, considered canon to aftershocks (with some exceptions which can be explained...later).

everything’s coming up rose’s:

stalled.

still excited, still want to write it, but focusing on other things atm.

various other soulmate aus:

one-shot (tentatively titled chorus: romance says goodnight):

still kicking around in my head.

still want to write it.

don’t think y’all will like it because it’s in raf’s point of view.

and other reasons.

but still want to write it.

dreamers often lie:

still at the point where i’ve brainstormed enough that i should start writing it because then i’ll get a more concrete idea of the world and of the events in the world but--

i’m currently focused on the soulmate timer au in terms of soulmate fics right now.  oops.

epic superhero crossover:

aka jtv/tick/timeless/supergirl/x-files/agent carter crossover.

hey, look, that’s a lot of things, so expect this to be massive, too.

the more i brainstorm this one, the bigger it gets, and at this point, i think it’ll probably be a bunch of interconnected fics in a series - like the time of your life - the soulmate timer au - instead of one big massive fic. it’s just easier to conceive of that way.

mexican stud is a fic on its own but goes within this crossover.

i want to write a fic about how emma and whitney get together (because they are together before rose gets them and all three of them are together in mexican stud - together as in a group, not as in together, even though emma and whitney definitely are together).

i want to write a fic about how dottie became the way she is when we meet her in the main fic (this would likely involve carterwood and dottie/whitney aspects - either directly or implied - and then it would likely come up in the main fic, there’s a bit from the part i just wrote that i want to be directly an exact quote from this).

i want to write a fic with rhea raising dottie (and potentially use that as backstory on how rhea and lena are...coworkers/acquaintances/partners/surrogate found family/etc. which could lead to complications re: lena and dottie but...idk).

even if lena isn’t a huge part of the rhea/dottie family fluff, i want to write something that deals with rhea in luthor-corp and l-corp and what she was doing after she got to earth - because that one’s different than canon (because i’m using ben’s rhea in a pod au v1 for this).

then there’s the main fic itself - which is where you get a lot of the crossover elements - particularly the x-files elements, which don’t really come up directly in the other fics but are definitely there in some of them (and by some of them, i mean the dottie backstory fic, they would be in the dottie backstory fic).  this would also be where the supergirl cast actually comes in (other than rhea and lena and the luthors and maybe astra?  maybe astra’s alive in this?  since rhea was around maybe she took astra?  or lillian?  idk haven’t decided yet).

so - like - this one is also a huge massive undertaking but in a different way than the roisa hp au is.  the interconnected fics for this aren’t necessarily as linear as the ones for the roisa hp au, and i want the main fic to be enjoyable on its own even if you haven’t read the other fics - the other fics might also stand on their own ish, but like...the random kingdom hearts games - to get the full story, you maybe want to play the main games.  ish.

also debating using my trans!mulder here because...like, i love him and i know he got me into trouble but...his story works so well here in context and i would love to use him here.  so.  it’s.  complicated.  :/

but - yeah - there’s your update on the state of things.  maybe look out for another update at the beginning of january, because i might be changing up some of how i’ve been writing and goals and things - but i think that’s it for now.

[bliphany]

For the end of year writing meme: 1, 12, 18 :-)

Thanks for the ask Ara! Sorry this takes me so long. At least we’re still few hours before the end of year? lol. [from this ask]

1. Favorite Fic You Wrote This Year

It’s ’Leave The Lights On’! It’s my longest fic so far, and the fact that I finished it is one of the reasons I love it - honestly, I’d considered giving it up twice during the creating process for real life reasons, and I’m so glad that I didn’t ditch it in the end.

I also love it for having many characters from the show during the timeframe I chose. It was so fun to plan! Damn hard to write though. I hated me from the planning stage so much while actually writing it. But it’s rewarding to see them be written, too. I like to think that I managed to make their own stories independent enough (having their suspensions and closures etc,) but also have their share of contribution to the main plot so I can say that I did my best not to waste any of them? (Ask me this again a year later lol)

I tried some things in the fic, too, not planned like “I want this effect” in advance, rather like “hey I think maybe I can put sentences this way” seconds before I wrote the part. As someone who just started to use this language to make up stories, I love those tiny parts and no matter whether someone else finds them nice - or finds them at all - those are certainly something I’ll look at and go “hehe” myself. XD

I love those totally unplanned scenes, too. Those I went “Why am I writing this Why WHY ARE YOU ARGUING? There’s NO TIME FOR THIS I got a posting date okay. Do I or ANYONE need a confession scene That long?” while typing and pulling my hair. I’m glad that they exist. Also, unexpected sentences that just came into my head when all I did was putting one sentence after another wondering if those things actually were appealing to read - it was those sentences that came to me voluntarily that convinced me the fic was worth writing. Here’s one of them: “Harold had never been given a chance to say a proper goodbye to his loved ones.” And I really want to share it here because it’s kind of painful and that’s because it’s true and important? Idk, I really love that sentence. :p

12. Favorite Character To Write About This Year

Jessica!

I counted my fics, including WIPs, and found that I’ve written her in different scenarios and I love them all. My 2018 writing started as Jessica binge-watching and being domestic with Kara in my Jessikara series. It was a fluffy one-shot about how their life would be like after the resolution of their relationship in another WIP where they’d broken up, and I hadn’t reached the resolution part yet back then. I stuck. I was like ‘OMG I might not reach the part where you are happy noooo can I write something after that to make up for now?’ XD

As for their resolution in said WIP, hey, I finished their part in 2018! *pat self* I mean, there’s still one last chapter (for Rinch and the rest of the main plot) to be done, and there are some parts I don’t feel particularly happy about yet fall short to fix (it’s the most-edit-even-after-posting fic I have, btw). However, among those parts I love, Jessica’s role is definitely on the top of the list. We got two ex-CIA assassins and Harold Finch, yet if we take every plot point apart and look into how one leads to another, it’s her actions that connect the thread leading to a possible resolution. She doesn’t know or care about the big picture. She is ordinary like she doesn’t need to obtain extra skills or talents to make that happen. All she needs is being who she is, meaning doing what she’ll do, and taking a proactive role to own the life she wants, like what she’d done at the airport in the show.

I remembered I was so worried at the planning stage of this WIP because there’d be so much happening in the foreground: Ordos, gosh Mark Snow, Kara being Kara, John and Harold would want to solve things…, but letting Jessica fade into the background and only show up again after Kara confronting Harold and John confronting Kara didn’t feel right to me. So you can see why I truly love how Jessica’s role turned out to be.

I also worked on another Jessikara WIP which was a Hang the DJ AU (from Black Mirror). In that, she wonders whether Kara’s affection toward her is more about Kara’s belief in the System and less about her, that gonna cause problems, but as always (always as in worlds I build anyway :p) she’ll be the one who points a way out for both of them. I quite like her character in it, including her flaws. Finger crossed for me to finish it in 2019!

The only not-happy fic for her is an AU project for Halloween based on the SCP Foundation setting, where characters get turned into objects is one possible ending. Zaniida invited me to join the project because she could use someone who wrote Jessica or Kara, how sweet was that.

18. Current Number Of WIPs

Haha this. A guilt trip. But actually, I can really take this chance to make my writing plan for 2019 so thanks for picking this out!

I didn’t count those with only an idea but no actual words in a draft, and here they go:

The Hang the DJ AU for Jessikara I mentioned in the previous question, of course. I’m hoping to finish it, if not in time for Femslash February, no later than the middle of this coming year. But it’ll be a long one, so finger crossed!!!

The final chapter of another WIP I mentioned in the previous question, too. Idk why that Rinch resolution part is so hard for me to write? I can read millions of them but why have so much difficulty in writing them? Like, I wrote… three so far? And I’m grabbing from an empty bag from where I might be able to pull out a rabbit, or maybe it’s just an empty bag. Ahhhh.

And there’s another Jessikara WIP where Jessica hates her heels. It’s a one-shot, and I’ve posted part of it on Tumblr before. So it’s proven to me that I can get stuck in a multiple chapter fic, a chapter, and a supposed to be a 1k one-shot.

Then, a translation Rinch fic that brilliantly merged the setting of POI, Inception, and Escape Plan. Hey, I got no progress even in translating too OMG. Is there a WIP bingo? Is there?

Apart from the above POI ones, I also had one WIP for Clare from the Counterpart. It was a monologue about how she was nothing but a shadow and how she married a man she loathed twice. I drafted it when I finished S1, and now S2 has come, and I still haven’t finished it ahhhhhhhh. Is it like I’ve missed a good timing to finish it?

And… four connected one-shots for Miss Sherlock… There are six as a series, and I’ve posted the first two. It felt like great timing to finish and post them all right after the finale, but I’ve missed that timing too. Sign.

So for the coming year, wish me luck, friend. Wish me luck. XDXD

[marvul-imagines]

Perfect Date

this fic was isntead to be for @thoughtsofdarc‘s 1k challenge but then hey. i procrastinated real bad and wrote like starts for three different ones and never finished and now. here we are. fully prepped for this to be bad as im not usually a one shot person but here we are.

summary: when y/n gets asked by clint barton what their idea of a perfect date would be, they never imagined anything more would come of it. time to find out just how wrong they were.

warnings: none really, mostly fluff. maybe a tad bit of implied sex? is that a thing? implied? idk, here we are.

prompts: “what is your perfect date?” + “the next time I’ll wear the dress“

word count: 2508

“Okay so,” he began, before taking a long pull from his beer of choice for that night, glancing around the circle, trying to pick his next target for this silly game. The question game. It was a ‘team building exercise,’ for your team, the Avengers, but was decidedly more fun while drinking than playing it sober. “Y/N” Clint Barton looked directly at you, as your name fell delicately out of his lips, almost challengingly. He had very nice lips, though you were pretty sure it was just the alcohol making you think that. You stared back at him, raising an eyebrow, waiting for his question.

“What is….” he mused for a moment, taking another sip of his own beer. “What is your perfect date?” He set his beer down hard on its coaster (Tony insisted they used coasters on his glass tables, or else) and leaned back into the couch, satisfied with his question.

You stared at him and let your mouth drop open, just ever so slightly, while you thought about his question. What was the last time you had even gone on a date?? Probably before you had joined the Avengers. Most normal people didn’t really understand what it was like to have the power you did, to be able to wield it. Most people were just interested in the fame. So it took a bit to remember, to imagine up, your perfect date.

“Well, I would want to be picked up. None of this wait outside and text that you’re here business,” you started, taking a sip from your drink. “It’s got to be real, and proper, if it’s going to happen at all. I’d like it to be raining, I think. Not pouring, but just a nice, warm, steady rain. I’d like to take a walk through the park together, under an umbrella, and eat a private dinner for two in a gazebo by candlelight.” You looked down at your lap, spinning your beer in your hand. “But if any of that couldn’t be arranged, I’d just want my perfect date to be quiet and peaceful. Meaningful, just the two of us.” You looked back up at Barton, raising an eyebrow. “Good enough answer for ya?”

Clint grinned, grabbing another beer and popping it open. “Much more detailed than I expected out of you, Y/N. Plenty good. Who's next?” And just like that, the night carried on.

The Avengers continued to ask themselves more and more personal questions until Tony and Clint had collapsed into fits of giggles and Natasha was thoroughly drunk and trying very hard not to show it. It was a good night, the kind of night you probably would have remembered forever, if you hadn’t started mixing beer and liquor a couple drinks later and wound up stumbling to the elevator to get in your uber. While Tony had obviously given you a suite in the tower, sometimes you just liked being in your own apartment, in your safe, happy space.

You practically fell into bed, barely haven’t a second thought about why the most handsome Avenger (in your personal opinion, not one you actually ever vocalized) had asked about your perfect date. In fact, you didn’t think about that night until a few weeks later, when storm clouds opened up over New York and the perfect, steady rain fell through the evening sky.

You heard the sound of the mailman dropping off your post and practically sprinted down the stairs to grab it. The last thing you want was your letters getting soaked through. It had happened before, the sudden storm making it impossible to read your bills, your letters, all the ink bled and ran like little drops of blood to the ground. Weren’t about to let that happen again, if it was up to you. But when you opened your heavy door, you were surprised to see a large, brown box, spattered with drops of water. Cautiously, you grabbed the box and brought it inside. You hadn’t been expected a package, and while no one in the outside world knew it was one of the Avengers living in this tiny, brick apartment shaded by large trees, you could never be too careful.

Opening the box delicately, you were surprised to find...a dress? Inside. It was soft, lavender in colour, and looked like it would hang on your body like dew. There was nothing else in the box but the soft dress. You checked the box for any sort of shipping address or label, a sign of where it had come from, but there were none. The hairs on the back of your neck slowly began to stand on end. Something wasn’t right here. This had to be some sort of trap. The dress was laced with something, and the second she put it on, her body would absorb some sort of poison. Closing the box, you grabbed a leather jacket off the hook and shrugged it on over your olive green tank. You had to find your phone and call Coulson. Might as well bring this sort of thing to SHIELD’s attention if someone was sending you threats.

After finding your phone, buried under a pile of clothes, you sent a quick text with a picture of the box and its contsense to the new Director of SHIELD and waited anxiously for a reply, when suddenly you heard three loud knocks on your door. Walking quietly towards the door, avoiding the floodboards that you knew were creaky, you stood on your tiptoes to look through the tiny peephole. What you saw outside was such a shock, you nearly tumbled backwards in disbelief. You had been expecting an attacker, whoever had sent that box, waiting in the eve of your stoop, shadow black against the soft grey sky.

Instead, there stood Clint Barton, in a button up shirt and a light rain jacket, holding a small bouquet of flowers in his hand, the other hand reaching up to knock on your door again. Before he could, you threw open the door and stood in front of him, eyeing him, then the flowers, your questioning gaze meeting his soft eyes.

“Clint,” you greeted, “What are you doing here?” For a moment, the two of you stood there, staring at each other as cool raindrops fell on your shoulders. His mouth opened and closed a few times, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words out right.

Finally he held the flowers up in front of him, soft and white, streaked with little lines of pink. “So, um, I had this idea. It was a pretty stupid idea, really,” he began, shrugging sheepishly. “It all started with that stupid question game the other week and, well, I don’t know. I’ve been thinking for a long time that you might want to, maybe, go on a date with me. So I set it up. Your perfect date.” He looked down at you with a quiet hope in his eyes.

You looked at the flowers that he still held in his shaking hands and a small smile slipped over your lips. You reached out, grabbing the small bouquet. “Let me go put these in a vase quick,” you said, “Then you can take me on this date of yours.”

You never knew anyone could look so beautiful as he did when he smiled back at you.

He had really done it, he had really listened to what you had said, orchestrated the whole thing. And he had waited, patiently, for the day where the rain had come and he could make sure that final touch was there. You could believe he had put all this time and effort into setting this whole thing up, just to make you happy. To really give you your perfect date.

As the two of you walked through the park, umbrella over your heads and fingers linked through one another, you could feel the anticipation growing. Things had always been so easy between you and Clint. He had helped you feel at home when you first joined the Avengers. He had made you laughed, helped you train. And while all the Avengers had become fast friends, something about him had just always clicked.  But you had never imagined it would lead to think. To a date. To his warm hand in yours and worrying if he could feel the sweat on your palms. Yet, here you were.

“I still can’t believe this,” you said quietly, barely loud enough to be heard over the rain pattering on the black umbrella he held above the two of you. You looked up at him and grinned. “It’s surprisingly pretty sweet, never would have thought you had it in you, Barton.”

“Well, Y/L/N, there’s a lot of things that you don’t know that I have in me,” he said with a laugh, before stopping, “Wait, that came out wrong,” he grinned down at you.

“Sounds oddly sexual but in a weird way,” you replied with a laugh. “Just how I like it.”

“Duly noted,” he said with a wink, “But we’ll have to get back to that later, cause we’re here,” he brandished his arms out wide, displaying the large gazebo before them. It was covered with flowers, the railings were practically dripping with them. Candles lined the stairs and there were three sitting on a circular table in the center of the gazebo, which had two plates, covered with silver dish lids, waiting for them. A bottle of red wine sat, waiting for the two of you to open and consume. The whole thing looked magical.

You gripped his forearm, giving it a tight squeeze. “Shut up! You did this all for me? This is amazing!” You gushed, unable to contain just how happy this had made you. No one had ever done something so personal for you. No one had ever tried this hard to make you happy. You weren’t one for crying, but in this moment you felt like you could.

“Pssh, this? This is nothing. You’re the amazing one here,” he said cheesily, full well knowing how corny he sounded, but not really giving a damn. This was your moment. The two of you, finally, on a date. Just like he had always imagined it, but even better. Because it was no longer imaginary. This was the real deal, you were finally here with him. He couldn’t ask for a better night.

You couldn’t help but blush and roll your eyes. “Alright now buddy, watch the cheese level. We haven't’ even started eating yet,” you pushed him playfully as the two of you walked up the steps to the table. He graciously grabbed your chair and pulled it out for you, allowing you to sit down in front of the meal. Then, with a playful air, he pulled the lids off your plates with a flourish, revealing your favourite meal. He must have gotten that secret from Nat.

Pouring you each a glass of wine, he sat down across the table from you. In this moment, this moment of quiet where the two of you were together, eating, drinking, everything was perfect. No one saw you as Avengers here, no one needed you to be heroes. You could just be Clint and Y/N. There was nothing more you had ever asked for. You smiled over at him happily, as you took a sip from your wine.

“Really, Clint, thank you for this,” you smiled shyly over at him. “I never thought...I never thought you’d be interested in someone like me. I always thought you just saw me as...I dunno, as family I guess.” You could feel the redness of your cheeks, which only added to the embarrassment you felt for opening up to him. Opening up had never been easy for you, letting people in had become even harder when people only wanted to get close to you for the fame. “You make me feel normal, a feeling I haven’t felt in a long, long time.”

Clint’s brow furrowed as he looked over at you. “Well I don’t know why you’d ever think I wouldn’t like you. Fuck, I thought I’d been dropping pretty good hints for like...the past year!” He laughed. “Apparently they weren’t that good. But seriously, Y/N.” He reached over the table, grabbing your hand. “When you joined the team, my entire world changed. I know you’ve had your own battles, we all have, but I want you to know that you bring light to the team. You are such a genuinely good person, and my day feels better just by being near you.” At this point, you did really have tears brimming in your eyes. “I know this is just the first date, but I want to keep going on them with you. I want there to be hundreds of dates. Because when something feels this good, you can’t just let it go.”

You sat there, stunned for a moment, touched by his words. Clint had always been the kind of hide his feelings behind sarcasm and wit, and now, here his was, bearing his soul for you to see. “I want that, too,” you replied, smiling and blinking away the tears. “I think we’re a good thing together, Clint. We fit together.”

“We do,” he grinned. “Now comeon’, let me bring you back home.” The two of you walked lazily back to your house, dancing around puddles and laughing the whole way back. This truly was a good, good thing.

It was on the stoop of your home that you shared your first kiss. He had been starting to say goodbye when you stood on your toes and kissed him sweetly, passionately. You wanted him to feel just how much this moment had meant to you, how he had touched your heart. His lips were soft and warm and melted into yours. His hand slipped behind your neck, cradling you close to him. Without a word, not wanting him to leave you just yet, you pushed open the door and pulled him inside.

Inside the house, your jacket’s fell to the floor as the kiss continued, heat searing across your body like lightning. No one had ever lit such a spark inside you. He lifted you up, having you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you up stairs, laying you gently on your bed. He kissed you again there, then lead a trail of kisses down your cheek, your neck, your chest until he reached the button of your jeans.

“Clint, what are you doing?” You laughed, as he struggled to undo the button.

He looked up from your hips and grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “Giving you a perfect date.”

You threw your head back laughing, the entire thing coming together. Between laughs, you managed to choke out, “Next time, I’ll wear the dress.”

[trisscar368]

unforth-ninawaters replied to your post“@unforth-ninawaters replied to your post “@bringmehsomepie replied: ...

Huh it never occurred to me that people would use likes as bookmarks for fic, interesting. But for the rest...yeaaaaah, like I know diminuel has over 20k followers and if she posts a sketch she often is lucky to get 100 notes, and new finished art often doesn't hit 1k. (I know her numbers somewhat cause she posts them and is a friend). I'm sure others do similarly. And while I'm not an artist I know for sure that many of my 1800 followers must be dead blogs (also the 

follower counts are inflated - when blogs get deleted Tumblr doesn't always count down the number of followers - so when I was around 1500 followers by Tumblr count I did a check and I only actually had like 1300 names listed in my follower list)

Another sign it's fandom rot in the SPN fandom specifically is just comparing the numbers to fandoms that are "hotter" - look at something like Stucky and other MCU, or Yuri on Ice...Im sure there are artists struggling for notes on those fandoms, too, but I regularly see art for those with 10k+ hits, whereas I never see new art hit those kinds of numbers in our fandom. It makes me sad, on the one hand, but on the other, I've thought the SPN fandom dying more than once in the decade I've been part of it, and it seems to keep reviving, so...maybe it's not as depressing as it seems?

I rubbernecked heavily on the reader/writer (like... more reader insert and porn writing than generic fic) side when I first joined the fandom, and I saw more than a few blogs mention that was how they used their likes.  It honestly baffles me...

I... don’t have numbers for Yuri, but I think the Marvel fandom is up in the low millions?  Largest online fandom I know of was 5 mil at it’s busiest (homestuck), and I honestly have a hard time believing spn fandom is anywhere near 150k on tumblr.  I don’t know, I need actual numbers from somewhere... (U.S. viewing pop is around 2 odd mil rn, and there’s like... no global numbers.  Or any way to retrofit that to tumblr pop.)(I just realized Misha has more twitter followers than the average weekly viewer number..........)  So the percentages for interaction for those other fandoms might not change that much.

There’s also the... our fandom has a bad relationship with our tags.  I don’t know how true that is for any other fandom, but I’ve got a lot of people in my circle that avoid posting to the main tags, and also avoid going into the main tags because there’s either wank or just assholes who tag with things that don’t belong.  (Dear voidlings - don’t tag generic memes with characters that aren’t there, people will block you....)  Things almost have to spread by word-of-mouth.

I have seen one proper art explosion for our fandom - @vyxon7′s Cas and Catstiel piece got on the Radar and hit like... 18, 20k inside a week.  But it’s really really rare.  Most art that goes viral still dies between 3-5k, and I don’t think I know of any other pieces younger than five years over the 12k line (there’s one euclase piece with 50k >.> from like... 2012)

I honestly don’t know if the archive is helping for this.  We’re getting a lot of exposure to smaller blogs, we’re a dedicated art source and there’s some people using our backlog, but we’re also glutting the art market.

The inflation thing - that might explain why so many of my mutuals are losing followers so heavily this week.  If tumblr is doing a purge....