#and the fanfic had over 100 chapters that thing was damn long

[k--havok]

If you ever think your chapters are too long: don’t.

I once read a fanfic that had a chapter totaling 60k words. A chapter.

You’re doing fine.

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn’t aware of)

Word Count: 1.2k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie

A/N: I hope you all are enjoying this series so far, it’s going to be a long one! Let me know in the comments what you think about it thus far, what your favourite chapter is, or even part of a chapter. It makes my day reading your guys’ comments (: and it motivates me more to do more chapters! Also, I’m almost at 100 followers and I couldn’t be any more grateful 🥹 I’m thinking that once I hit the 100 mark, I’ll write a short story for said 100th follower of their choice! Or you guys can request any character for me to write about and a prompt on my page, it’ll make it a lot easier lol. Thank you ☺️ I hope you like this chapter!

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 6

The atmosphere was quickly illuminated by red, white and blue hues as the now-new crime scene unfolded in front and inside of your house.

“Jesus, (Y/n), what happened?” Tatum sprinted to your side, maneuvering under the caution tape and into your living room.

You sighed, rubbing your temples in slow-soothing circles, stress appearing in dark patches under your eyes.

“He was here…” You whispered, traumatized as the image of Steve’s heart flickered in your memories.

“Tatum, you shouldn’t be here. This is official police business, now.” Dewey scolded his younger sister, walking up beside her.

“Ugh, as if…” She rolled her eyes, “She’s staying with Sidney and I tonight. I was coming to pick her up…”

“That was still happening… even after the fight Sidney and I had?” You looked up at Tatum, momentarily forgetting about all the fuss that was going on around you.

“Yep, it’s a good thing too.” Tatum chuckled, sitting next to you. “I don’t care what happened between you and Sid earlier, you were my friend first and I’ll be damned if I let a bitch-fit between the two of you get in the way.” She nudged your shoulder, playfully. You smiled, but it quickly faded, hearing the staticky-voice over Dewey’s walkie-talkie.

“Dewey, you might want to come see this.” Sheriff Burke spoke, concern coaxing his words.

Your stomach twisted in all sorts of directions, squeezing tightly at the acid that was forming in it, causing it to travel up to your esophagus. You were ready to vomit, but you swallowed it, fighting the feeling, not wanting to go anywhere by yourself.

You wondered what Sheriff Burke meant.

“Right away, Sir.” Dewey spoke into his device, walking into the direction of where his boss was.

“So, what exactly happened, ( N/n)?”

“I got a phone call, then it quickly escalated from there…” You placed your hands over your face, futilely attempting to suffocate yourself with the pressure. “I thought nothing of it at first, but I-I was already getting the heebie-jeebies from the call, but he sounded genuine, so I ignored the feeling and kept talking to him…” You brought your hands to your lap, looking at Tatum, “Then the ph-phone went silent and at that exact moment, my doorbell r-rang…” You stumbled your sentence, struggling to find the proper words to continue explaining. “I was hesitant, so I peeped through the eyehole, trying to see if anyone was lurking about, but there was no one.” You sighed, “I decided I’d open the door, and you know, maybe get a better look, again, there was no one.” A tear rolled down your cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, take it easy..” Tatum tried to comfort you and brought you into a hug, you were quick to wrap your arms around her, squeezing her, as you whimpered.

“Th-There was this box, and I didn’t think twice before I brought it into my home… oh, god.” You sobbed, “His heart was in it, Tatum, his fuckin’ heart!” Your voice broke.

“Hold on, whose heart?” She asked, baffled by what she was hearing.

“Steve’s.” You let out a quiet mewl, hugging Tatum tighter.

“How do you know?”

“Because he said it in the note and I-I believe it.” You sobbed yet again, “That’s not e-even the worst part…”

As bad as that may sound, it was true, the heart in the box wasn’t your main concern, but the fact that he was watching you, that he admitted it over the note that he had sloppily written, that he stated it over the phone; he was there, he could have been in your house the entire time, waiting for a moment to strike.

You could have been his next victim, the next book Gale Weathers would’ve written about. However, what’s even more concerning is that you thought it was sweet that he’d given you one of your biggest heartbreaks in a box. Pun intended.

The killer gave you Steve Orth’s heart; the guy that gave you both hell and pure bliss behind closed doors. The guy who seen you at your most vulnerable, the one who continued to defile you even when he was in a relationship.

You had his heart, officially. That’s all you ever wanted, but that was months ago.

This was karma doing what she did best, revenge…

Did the killer know about the affair? The humiliation? Did he kill Steve just for you? No, he couldn’t have, but did he? Was he someone you knew? Probably not, but he could be. You’ll never know and it’s eating you up inside. Why make a grand gesture and not show who he is, or even give you a subtle hint of who it may be.

As much as it scared you, it also humbled you. It was romantic, but completely unnecessary, yet, you wanted to thank him. Thank the stranger; the killer, for doing God’s dirty work, or in this case, Karma’s.

What is wrong with you? For fuck’s sake, he killed two people, and probably will kill again. Why would you want to thank him for that, are you that depraved? Maybe.

“Earth to (Y/n)?” Tatum snapped her fingers in front of your face, startling you from the never ending thoughts that corroded your mind.

“S-Sorry, what?” You stuttered, wiping a single tear from your cheek.

“I thought I lost you there for a moment, Hun. Dewey wants to speak with you…” She smiled, lightly, nodding towards her brother who appeared out of nowhere.

“Okay.. yeah, y-yeah, for sure..” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

You pushed yourself off the couch, making your way to the kitchen with Dewey.

“We’re sending the heart and the box away for DNA testing to see if it actually is Steve’s heart, alright?” Dewey explained, “We also want to take the note…” He stopped, turning around, picking up some other object, “And this to see if the suspect had left any fingerprints.” He showed it to you, and you paled, but the colour soon came back to your face as you felt yourself blush.

You were met with a paper-white face with two hollowed eyes and a gaping mouth, it was a mask, a mask that looked utterly horrifying, yet, disturbingly attractive at the same time.

Was it wrong that you were starting to get wet from the sheer thought of a possible tall and muscular man killing for you, wearing this mask?

Probably, but you didn’t care.

You squeezed your thighs together, putting pressure on your heat, trying to not let it slide that the mask was getting you off.

“We found this outside in the bushes by your house.” Dewey said, “Have you seen it before?”

You shook your head, biting your lip, you’ve never seen that before in your life, you’d be sure to remember it if you did. Though, now that you did see it, it wasn’t going to leave your mind, especially with how it was making you feel.

‘It almost looks like a Ghost Fac—‘ You cut yourself off mid thought.

“G.F…” You mumbled at no one in particular, “That’s what it stands for, Ghost Face, the killer dubbed himself as Ghost Face…”

<- Previous Next ->

[mamamittens]

Oh SHIT Sale

Well!

Uh, good news first! I’m okay, and will likely be okay, things just suddenly got very… unfortunate. In a very rapid amount of time. I'm going to need to step carefully for the foreseeable future or there will be problems.

So, here’s the deal. I need money. And the sooner I get on that, the better I’ll feel in general. I won’t go into detail to keep this as ‘guilt-trippy’ free as possible but, the household income (not from me) just dropped and I’m hopeful that it will recover soon but the job market is… lacking. To be blunt.

Now, I’m not expecting people to just give me money. So, I’m doing a bit of a sale.

Typically, commissions are $1 for 100 SFW words and $2 for 100 NSFW words. (So, $30 for 3K SFW commission and $30 for 1.5K NSFW commission).

For now, that price will be halved.

So, for a limited time, $1 will get you 200 SFW commissioned words and $2 will get you 200. Or just $0.50 for 100 SFW words and a $1 for 100 NSFW words if you prefer to think of it that way.

Can’t think of any prompt for a commission? Why, you can just shove that money into a pending work I already have and just… haven’t updated. Sponsor a chapter, so to speak.

Now, please understand, I would ordinarily never. Do. This.

My fanfiction is, generally, for free because it’s a passion of mine for as long as the passion survives. And considering how personally I take my stories, I would never ordinarily put a paywall in front of chapters or compromise my earnest passion for monetary gain in an already established fanfic. I started these stories because I had a deep desire to tell them. To tell my stories. And you, the general audience, are free to enjoy them for as long as I am capable of writing them and posting them online.

As such, in the case of this option, it won’t be treated the same as a commission. A chapter will have a flat rate. Let’s say… $20 bucks upfront (commissions may still be half upfront and the other half upon completion but I would appreciate it during these trying times if the full amount could be paid all at once). And then I really have to do it damnit, inspiration be damned.

You're basically paying to shove my nose into the story and write damnit.

Nothing quite like brokenness to inspire, I suppose. You can chose the story, naturally, and how many chapters, but that’s it. I can’t in good conscious and without feeling more gross than I already do, compromise more. If I reach the end of the story… we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, but I do believe I’ll refund the appropriate amount or you may transfer that to a different story as you please.

I sincerely hope you understand.

This is in NO WAY a reflection of how I WANT to write fanfiction. And it will not persist once the current issue is resolved.

How long is this “Oh shit” sale going?

Well, as long as it has to, to be honest. If, somehow, all my monetary problems are solved before any of the comms are complete, then that money just goes to my credit card bill. Something I’ve needed to whittle down for a while but haven’t been able to and definitely adds to the amount the household ultimately needs to keep churning.

For simplicity, I’ll do slots to be filled. That and it’ll keep everything organized. Once the slots are filled, I’ll close the “Oh shit” sale until it’s done so I don't end up with a massive pile of work to stress over.

First come, first serve, and if you just want to send some love my way in the form of money, I have a Ko-fi, which is what I’ll be paid through regardless for simplicities sake.

Keep in mind normal commission rules apply, including concerning NSFW content, commissioner ages, and character ages. And kinks. I WILL refund money if it has been preemptively sent before the details have been ironed out. Please wait until I have confirmed I can do it before sending any money, barring tips, which are greatly appreciated if possible.

Writing commissions:

Empty

Empty

Empty

Empty

Empty

Story sponsoring:

Empty

Empty

Empty

Empty

Empty

[hammieslice]

20 Questions For Fanfic Writers!

I got tagged in this by the lovely @onewhoturns, and I'll tag some others at the end!

1: How many works do you have on Ao3?

I only have 8 actually published there, but for reference, I went into my WIP folder and found over 100 more... So I do write things! I'm just really really bad at actually publishing them.

2: What's your total Ao3 word count?

Assuming I've done my math right, my current total word count sits at 262,909. Most of that is probably the longfics I've done with Turner, but there are almost certainly some hidden gems in there as well.

3: What fandoms do you write for?

Well, I haven't actually written and published something for a specific fandom for a while now, but my more common interests these days are Genshin Impact, Fire Emblem, Metal Gear Solid, Ace Attorney, Shadow & Bone (Netflix TV show specifically) and a few sporadic others! But my past works were for Oxenfree, Destiny, Ava's Demon, Homestuck, Overwatch, Critical Role, The Magnus Archives and Half Life.

4: Top five fics by kudos?

That would beeee So It Goes, Blue Hair, Red Jacket, A Different Angle, One Foot, and finally Holy Spirits!

5: Do you respond to comments? Why/Why not?

As much as I love getting comments on fics, I don't often respond to them. I don't really have enough published to get engagement super often, and even then, I'm just not the kind of person to reach out at random simply because I've heard too many Internet Horror Stories(tm). But, maybe if I do publish more in the future, I'll make a habit of answering then!

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

I... Don't really know? Most of my fics are either one-shots or unfinished multi-chapter works. There's probably something really angsty in my WIPs, but since it's never seen the light of day, we'll never really knows.

7: What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Hmm. Hm hm hm. That would probably be a toss up between A Different Angle, which is just meant to be a nice, feel-good oneshot, or Pyrite-50: Quiet Moments, which is a kind of character study of one of my Destiny PC's.

8: Do you get hate on fics?

Since I only have 8 published, and I'm not like a super-duper popular author, I don't really think I get hate. All of the comments I've seen have been really sweet and lovely, which I'm thankful for.

9: Do you write smut?

I've been known to partake... On occasion....... <- Currently hiding most of it away in that damned WIP folder

10: Do you write crossovers?

Aside from the every-so-often "AU fic inspired by another piece of media", no, not really. But maybe that will change sometime! I wouldn't be truly opposed.

11: Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I'm aware!

12: Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. My reach, like I said, is pretty minimal. But if anybody were to ask, I'd say go for it, as long as I got credit as the author.

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

Most of my published fics are co-written! My co-author was actually the one who tagged me in this, Turner. You can go check out all our Oxenfree stuff on Ao3 right now.

14: What's your all-time favorite ship?

Oooooh, this one is hard. The one I've undoubtedly written the most for is jonalex, but I'm a huge multishipper, so I've never really preferred one pairing over another before. It's always so dependent on my mood! Can I just say all of them?

15: What's the WIP you hope to finish but doubt you ever will?

The forgotten Kaz Brekker/Darkling smut. It sits in its little google document, taunting me. I know that you're there. I KNOW.

16: What are your writing strengths?

I'd like to think I'm good at metaphors? Generally, getting into a character's psyche is what I strive for, and when I get it right it feels like a real achievement. I've also been told that I'm very good at making dialogue that feels real, or that flows in a way that makes sense, which is something else I'm really proud of.

17: What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing things. Fight scenes (of the physical variety). The two big F's.

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

Seeing as I am a person who only knows one language (and guess which one that is), I don't often write in other languages for my fics, because I'm a liiiiittle too scared of fucking up. On the rare chances I have, I usually use someone I know as a translator, but that limits me on how many languages I can conceivably use. As far as foreign languages in other fics go, I'm all for it!

19: First fandom you wrote for?

It's either Harry Potter, and that fic has now been orphaned to the wind, or maybe Homestuck?

20: Favorite fic you've ever written?

Of my published fics, it has to be So It Goes. That one has a special place in my heart for a multitude of reasons, and not just because Turner and I got to write it together. Of my WIPs, there's an unnamed freemance fic that I've been dying to finish that I just recently found again, and it made me fall in love with my writing for a second time; in a strange way.

Tagging!!

@artemis-crimson @reddgiant @starchemist @starlit-bawka @cranehusbands @duvirii and basically whoever else wants to do it.

[verai-marcel]

Another Chance (Astarion x Tav/OC, BG3 Fanfic, 18+, Part 1 of 2)

Summary: Phaedra Tiernan, a drow druid, savior of Baldur’s Gate, had not returned to the city in fifty years. When she returns, she meets up with old companions and renews a friendship… And perhaps, something more? 

Author’s Notes: Is this some Tav/OC x Astarion bullshit that I’m about to write? Sure is. This is 100% based on my first playthrough of BG3, so my drow druid had romanced Gale, but her outfit matched Astarion and he was always in the party because I had multi-classed him a rogue/monk/fighter, and he was damn near unstoppable.

Tags: Gale x OC, Astarion x OC, angst, tragedy in the beginning, time skip, post-game content, friends to lovers, porn with feelings, prone bone, other positions probably

Word Count: 4099

AO3 link is here, sweetness.

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

Chapter 1 - An End and A Return

Fifty years. 

Fifty years since the defeat of the Absolute.

Fifty years since Gale had asked her to marry him.

And fifty years since Phaedra had been back to Baldur’s Gate.

Sure, she had sent letters to friends, met up with some of the others in Daggerford, a small town just south of Waterdeep, or invited old friends to visit the tower in Waterdeep proper. But she had never ventured back to the city she helped save.

It wasn’t as if Gale had kept her away; no, far from it. Gale had always asked, “Phaedra, my love, would you like to visit once more?”

She had always put it off. “Perhaps some other time,” she always said. There were always new lands to explore, after all.

But she could no longer say that to him.

Phaedra stared at the simple, yet beautifully decorated tombstone, Tara by her side.

“It was his time, dear,” the tressym said. “But I do miss him.”

Being a drow, Phaedra knew she would outlive Gale by centuries. But having to face that fact now tore at her heart. The only thing keeping her from spending another month crying in the tower was that Gale had given her one final mission. 

Gale, the sentimental fool, had written a bunch of letters to their mutual friends, for her to deliver in case of his death. Perhaps he had guessed that she would need something to distract her. 

No, he knew she would need the distraction. A final, farewell gift to show that he understood her. That he cared about her. That he loved her.

Phaedra swallowed the lump in her throat. “I miss him too, Tara.” She hefted the stack of letters in her satchel. “But I know for a fact that he doesn’t want me to stay still for too long. He knows… knew me, all too well.”

Tara wanted to stay behind and watch over the tower until she returned, or if she didn’t, wait for one of Gale’s apprentices to take over the tower, if she judged them worthy. That left Phaedra free to travel to Baldur’s Gate and hand deliver the letters to each of her fellows. 

Her first stop was in the former Shadow-cursed lands. Halsin had greeted her warmly, hugging her tightly and seemingly unwilling to let her go. She spent a night there, entertaining his plethora of adopted children and touring the town, which has grown quite large in the fifty years she had been gone. The original children she had remembered were all grown up now, and these new children were either recently adopted, or children of the original war orphans who enjoyed spending time with ‘Daddy Halsin.’ 

Though reluctant to let her leave so soon, Halsin bid Phaedra farewell after wrangling a promise to visit sooner than fifty years. She traveled along the River Chionthar to find Shadowheart and her father, still taking care of their menagerie of animals and their farm, living a quiet, simple life. Phaedra gave her respects to her mother, who had passed long ago, leaving a small bouquet of wildflowers on her gravestone. 

“I need to find Lae’zel somehow as well,” Phaedra said, staring at the letter that Gale had written for her.

Shadowheart held out her hand. “I’ll give it to her.”

She blinked. “R-really? You know where she is?”

The cleric shrugged. “She visits me from time to time, when she is able to take time away from her duties in the Astral Sea.”

Phaedra smiled. Wow. I’m glad they still see each other, to be honest. She hardly ever came to see me. “So how is she?”

Shadowheart shrugged. “She looks nearly the same as she did when she left. Apparently one doesn’t age in the Astral Sea.”

“Ah. Well, give her my best. And tell her to visit me, dammit.”

Shadowheart smiled. “Of course.”

Phaedra handed over the letter, had a pleasant dinner, and spent the night in the barn with Scratch's great-grand pup and the owlbear for old time’s sake. The next morning, she bid farewell and traveled onward towards the Gate.

Along the way, she stopped by the old ruins where they had first run into Withers. Though the tomb was empty, she left Gale’s letter for him on the sarcophagus and camped outside for a night. The next morning, she went to check again and saw that the letter had disappeared.

It didn’t take long for her to find Jaheira, though when she asked about Minsc, the High Harper only shrugged and would speak no further. But the shielded pain in her eyes said enough. Phaedra handed both letters to her and wished her well before visiting her next two companions.

Tucked away in the lower city, a small house with flowers and a signpost above the door, decorated with flames and two crossed swords, brought a smile to Phaedra’s face. She knocked on the door and waited.

A crashing sound, followed by the pounding of feet, made her cringe, but she managed to put on a smile right before the door swung open.

“Aunty Phaedra!”

A young tiefling woman immediately grabbed her and pulled her into a huge bear hug, lifting her off the ground and swinging her back and forth.

“I’m glad to see you too, Rieta,” Phaedra said, squeezing the woman in return. About two years after being forced to return to Avernus, Karlach and Wyll had found a way to fix her engine and they returned to Baldur’s Gate, as the Twin Blades of Avernus. They had made a good life, and though they didn’t officially retire, they had left most of the adventuring and fighting to their daughter while they helped train Flaming Fist soldiers.

“Soldier, it’s good to see you,” Karlach said as she came outside. She looked just as brilliant as she had the last time she had seen her ten years ago in Waterdeep. “Took you long enough to come back.”

As Rieta dragged her into the house, Phaedra smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry that… certain circumstances brought me back.”

Sitting at a dining table with Wyll, Karlach, and Rieta, Phaedra handed them the letters. “Gale… wanted me to hand deliver letters to everyone…”

She swallowed. She felt better with each letter she gave, as if the physical weight being lifted was lifting the weight off her heart as well. But it still hurt.

Fortunately, Phaedra was quickly surrounded by hugs, and they had a good evening of conversing about the past and catching up about the present.

“So who else do you need to visit?” Wyll asked, sitting with Karlach and Phaedra by their fireplace. Rieta had gone to bed, to be ready to wake up early for a mission in the morning.

Phaedra pulled a letter out of her satchel. “Well… just one more now.�� 

“You can probably find him at the Elfsong,” Wyll said. “He’s… changed.”

She tipped her head. “In… a good way?”

Karlach and Wyll shared a smile. “I’d say so,” Karlach said. Then she frowned. “Didn’t he send you letters too?”

“He did on occasion, but they were… not very descriptive. Mostly a ‘I’m doing great, murdering the bad guys.’”

They laughed. “Sounds like him. When you find him, maybe ask him more about it. He’s more of a talker than a writer,” Wyll said.

Phaedra nodded. Interesting.

***

The next morning, Phaedra went with Wyll and Karlach to help train the new recruits at the Flaming Fist. There were certainly some wide-eyed recruits who asked a million questions once they realized who she was, and she weaved them a tale worthy of a bard’s approval. After doing some actual training, she spent the rest of the day walking around the city, looking at all of the ways the city had grown, and reminiscing at the things that hadn’t changed. 

And once the sun began to set, she made her way to the Elfsong.

Nursing a drink at the bar, she immediately sensed a certain someone making their way toward her.

“Darling, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Turning around, she expected Astarion to be his usual fabulous self.

Instead, she was surprised to see him wearing a dark blue shirt and leather breeches, simple adventuring gear. And yet somehow, it still looked good on him. Ridiculously good, in fact. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

He flipped his hair a bit with his hand and turned around to show Phaedra his outfit. “I look good in anything, my dear. But you already know that.”

She laughed. Gods, I didn’t realize how much I missed his sass. “Right, right.” 

“But I’m sure you’re not here just to look at my clothes.” He looked around. “Where’s your other half? I’m sure I would have heard him lecturing me by now.”

Her lips trembled.

It only took a moment for him to realize it, and he frowned.

Ever since Phaedra had helped him kill Cazador, she had noticed that Astarion looked at her with a kinder gaze. He spoke with her more often, shared his thoughts with her more openly. They had become friends after everything, and she truly cared about his happiness. 

After he had run off to hide from the blistering rays of the sun on the docks that fateful day, she had tried to look for him, but he was very skillful in hiding. She knew that, of course. It wasn’t until Withers’ banquet six months later that she saw him again, hugged him, and told him she had missed him. She had been pleasantly surprised to hear that he had become an adventurer and hero in his own right, dispatching criminals in the night.

“See you later, darling,” was the last thing he had said to her.

And now, he stood before her, close enough to see the kindness in his eyes once more.

It was enough to bring out her emotions once more. Shakily, she took a breath. “I… I have a letter for you, from Gale.”

Astarion stepped closer, not quite crowding her, but close enough so they could speak quietly. He took the letter gently from her grasp. “I am curious. Do you mind?”

Phaedra waved her hand. “Go ahead. I’ll just finish my drink.” Turning away to sip her mead, she subtly watched him as he read the letter. His eyes widened slightly before his expression went back to being neutral. When he finished, he tucked the letter away in his pocket. 

“Thank you for delivering this, my friend.” Taking her hand, he squeezed it gently. “Did he have you deliver letters to everyone?”

She nodded.

He sighed. “That man.” Putting one hand on the small of her back, he led his drow friend away from the bar and into the moonlit night. “This can’t be easy for you.”

Phaedra shook her head. “I knew I’d outlive him. But… I wanted to hold onto him for as long as possible.” She stared up at the sky. “He talked to me before”—she swallowed—“before he passed, about how much I meant to him, and how much he wants me to be free after he’s gone. To go on living and loving with vigor, because that was why he fell in love with me.”

She realized that Astarion was walking quietly with her, taking her along well lit streets, letting her speak. “I think he knew that I would need this, to go on a journey, to see our old friends, to reconnect with the world.” Phaedra turned to him, a wry smile on her face. “I spent a whole month holed up in his tower, not doing a damn thing. That doesn’t sound like me at all, does it?”

Astarion laughed. “No, it doesn’t. I would have thought you were a changeling, if I had seen you like that.” His eyes traced the shape of her face. “You’ve grown your hair out since I last saw you. You always kept it to such a short length before.”

She shrugged. “I, erm, didn’t really… pay attention to much of anything, after Gale passed.”

He watched her for a moment, clearly thinking. “Would you, perhaps, like to help me with something tonight? If you’re up for it.”

“What am I helping with?”

“Oh, just a small problem.”

“I know how ‘small’ problems suddenly become larger with you, Astarion.”

He chuckled. “Alright, well, there’s this group of ruffians…”

***

It was invigorating, being in the fray once more, fighting the good fight, helping folks in need. Phaedra finally felt like she had come back home, after six months of staying in Baldur’s Gate. She was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to distract herself with helping others, and in a way, giving her purpose. 

She missed Gale, of course. She missed being in their tower, sitting on their favorite settee on the balcony, watching the sunset and sharing a book. She missed helping Gale with magical experiments, practicing her druidic arts in the yard with him taking notes, taking short trips to the surrounding areas to explore new sights, collect new herbs, and maybe help a few people along the way. It had been a lovely, idyllic dream.

Now, being back in Baldur’s Gate, she had a new dream. A dream with friends who were close by, that she could see every day if she so wished. She split her time helping Karlach and Wyll train the Flaming Fist, assisting Rolan at Sorcerous Sundries, accompanying Rieta on some of her missions, and even taking breaks to visit Shadowheart and Halsin. 

But she spent most of her time with Astarion. Every night was a new adventure, whether it was breaking up a bar fight, getting chased by the guards of an illegal underground gambling ring, or reverse pickpocketing a small child who was begging for money in the alleys.

“So has this been your life for the past fifty years?”

“Has that much time passed?”

“I suppose it’s not long for us elves,” Phaedra said, huffing slightly in the cold night air. They were sprinting away from the Undercity, trying not to let the Zhentarim thugs on their heels catch up to them. However, the jangle of gold in Astarion’s pouch was giving them away.

“Well, it’s a drop in the bucket for me, since I’ll live forever.”

“Lucky you.”

“Perhaps.”

Phaedra glanced over, surprised at Astarion’s bittersweet tone.

But soon she had no time to ponder it, as they found themselves at a dead end.

“I thought you knew the Undercity!” she hissed.

Astarion shrugged as he pulled out his dagger. “Look darling, I don’t know every tunnel in this place. Especially since people keep digging new ones.”

Phaedra rolled her eyes as she got ready to wild shape. “Pick one.”

“Hm, I haven’t seen your owlbear form in some time.”

“Good choice.” Turning to see the thugs brandishing their swords, Phaedra grinned as she stomped on the ground, feeling the wild change take over her body. “Let’s go.”

***

Adrenaline running through her veins, Phaedra ran alongside her partner in not-quite-crime, laughing into the night air. She followed him back to his home, a simple townhouse in the lower city with a ground level and a large, windowless basement. 

Just as she was about to part ways, Astarion cleared his throat. “Do you want to come in?”

Phaedra was a bit surprised. After six months, this was the first time he had invited her. “Sure. “I’m curious what kind of place you’ve been living in all this time.”

The ground level merely consisted of a vestibule with a small sitting area, a door to a small guest bedroom that was minimally furnished, and another door leading to a stairwell. The basement was very lavishly decorated, and she could see three doors that connected to other rooms. It also had an emergency exit into the dark alley behind the building, just in case.

“Gods, did you see the look on their faces when you transformed?” he asked as he led her into the living room in the basement. “I got a free hit on them, they were so dumbfounded.”

Phaedra cackled. “Good. Hope they dream of me beating their faces in while they’re passed out.” She dropped her gear on the table in the basement living area. “I’m surprised you didn’t kill them.”

Astarion shrugged. “I fed on one of those other thugs earlier, no need to murder all of them so quickly.” He sat on a luxurious armchair, taking out a rag to clean his daggers. “Have to keep some of my blood supply intact for the future, after all.”

“Wow, you really have changed.”

He laughed softly. “I’ve learned to enjoy life with a little bit of planning. Something I learned from the rest of you.”

Phaedra smiled as she looked around Astarion’s living room. There were classic paintings, some she recognized as loot they had taken from various heists around the city back in the day.

“Didn’t you steal that from Lady Jannath’s estate when she was preoccupied with that artist?”

“And you provided an excellent distraction. I never thanked you for that.”

Phaedra shook her head. “I probably would have told you to put it back.”

“And that’s why I never mentioned it.” He finished cleaning his daggers and put them aside as he got up. “And now it’s here”—he gestured towards the painting—“splendidly adorning my wall.”

She sighed. “Well, I suppose no one has missed it since then…” Getting up to join him, she admired the colors, the paint strokes, the whole composition. “I have to admit, it is beautiful.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Phaedra looked over at Astarion to see him watching her, a curious look in his eyes. Wait. That look. “Astarion?”

He stepped closer to her. “Yes, darling?”

“What are you doing?”

“You have some debris in your hair,” he said, reaching up to pick out bits of dirt from her snowy white hair. His fingers trailed down to the tips of her hair before he softly caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles, his gaze softer than she had ever seen.

“Um, thank you.” Phaedra stepped back, suddenly shy. He’s been doing this more often as of late. It’s not unwelcome, but it’s certainly an odd development. “This is the first time I’ve been to your place,” she mumbled, changing the subject awkwardly.

Astarion stepped back, and he was suddenly his usual self again. “Well, let me give you the grand tour.”

It was only three rooms, but he chattered away as he showed them to her. The luxurious powder room had two sinks and a tub large enough for two, with a door that connected to a grand bedroom with minimalist, stylish decor. There was a king sized bed covered in black silk sheets, and night stands on either side with two drawers each, clearly stuffed with knick knacks and jewelry.

The last room was a classically styled office, with an ebony stained mahogany desk, and bookcases along all of the walls, floor to ceiling. They were all filled, and there were even a few stacks on the floor where extra books couldn’t fit.

“That’s… a lot of books.”

Astarion shrugged. “There might be a few duplicates in there, I’m never quite sure.”

“Did you pilfer these too?”

“Perhaps.”

Phaedra grinned. “Do you want me to help you pick out the copies? We could donate them to the library.”

“You’re always so… nice.”

“Those thugs we clobbered underground may not agree with you.”

He laughed. “No, I suppose they wouldn’t.”

They were back in the living room, Phaedra staring at her pile of loot and her quarterstaff leaning against a chair. “So, I guess I should head back to the Elfsong.”

“You’ve been staying there for the last six months. Why didn’t you take Karlach and Wyll’s offer to stay at their place?”

Phaedra shrugged. “You know me. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone, nor outstay my welcome.”

“You could stay here.”

“Did you not hear me?”

“I did, and I’m telling you that it’s more of an inconvenience to me, having to go over to the Elfsong to find you.”

She snorted. “Alright, that’s fair. But you have to help me move my stuff.”

***

Phaedra piled her stuff into the guest bedroom upstairs. It was a modest little room with a small night stand, a twin sized bed, a chest of drawers, and an empty bookcase. 

“It’s like you didn’t even attempt to make this look lived in.”

“Why? No one comes here. And I’ve laid traps on all the entrances and windows. A thief would have to be extremely talented to get past all of that.”

She could only nod as she put her things away. She paused when she pulled out a small, dark blue brocade pouch. 

Peering over her shoulder, Astarion hummed. “Is that the necklace I gave you back then?” 

Phaedra nodded as she opened the pouch and pulled out the delicate silver chain, studded with small sapphires. It was an elegant and minimalist style, designed to be more like a choker. “It was so pretty, I couldn't bring myself to sell it with the rest of the loot.”

Her memories came bubbling up from deep in her mind.

“Where did you find this, Astarion?” 

“Does it matter?”

“If I wear it and someone recognizes it, then yes, it matters.”

Astarion shrugged. “No one will recognize it. Just take it. When else will I ever be this generous?” 

“True. Oh, did you need my blood tonight?”

His gaze was heated as he smiled, his lips curving perfectly. “Darling, I'm always up for a little treat.”

“Yes, yes, now put your seduction face away, you know it doesn't work on me. And Gale will get mad.”

Astarion laughed. “We wouldn't want that now, would we?” His expression softened as he stepped closer, placing his hands delicately on her shoulders. “I know I don't always say it, but it's a gift every time you let me taste you.” Dipping his head down to her exposed neck, he whispered reverently, “Thank you,” before taking a bite. 

Astarion could tell Phaedra was spacing out, so he gently took the necklace from her hand. “Hold your hair up, darling.”

Phaedra came out of her memories and did as he asked. 

His fingers glided along her skin as he carefully clasped the necklace around her neck. Staring down at her neck, Astarion felt the urge to hold her close and bite down, but he restrained himself. It had been so long since he had tasted her, felt her slight tremor as he drank. He knew she had fed him as a friend, but he still craved the closeness those few precious moments offered him.

Reaching up to run her fingers along the necklace, she turned around and tipped her head curiously at him. “Well? Does it look good on me?” 

“Of course it does. I picked it out, remember?”

Remembering the myriad times he had pilfered a piece of jewelry or some other knick-knack that ended up being worth a sizable amount, even as they were trying to survive the onslaught of the Absolute and everything in between, Phaedra laughed and batted at his arm. “You always did have good taste, even if it got in the way of our work at times.”

She noticed that Astarion had stepped back. Looking toward the only window, she realized a faint sliver of dawn light was seeping through the blackout curtain.

“Oh. Right. Better get you back downstairs.”

He nodded. “Get some rest, darling. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Good, uh, well, have a good rest, Astarion.”

Smiling at her, he winked before heading back to the basement.

Phaedra remained unmoving until she heard the basement door close. Then, without really thinking, she plopped down on the bed and fell into reverie, letting the memories wash over her.

***

Astarion climbed slowly into his grandiose bed. Normally he’d revel in the feel of the silk sheets against his bare skin, but today, he longed for something else.

He longed for her. It pained him to have her so close, and yet she felt just as far as she had when she was in Waterdeep. He wanted her in bed with him, to feel her skin next to his. To touch her. Not even in a lustful way, just… skin to skin, laying beside her.

Sighing heavily, he fell into a trance, but his mind tortured him by remembering all of his interactions with Phaedra. 

He'd be lying if he said this wasn't a common occurrence. 

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

Let me know what you think in the comments!

Chapter 2 Here.

[nocturneworld6]

Here's an interesting story I'd like to tell you guys.

I watched hbomberguy's video, Plagiarism and You(tube). Amongst the numerous creators he exposed, was one of my favourites, Internet Historian. It shattered my heart so much, and I hadn't even watched the plagiarised video, Man in Cave yet. I love Internet Historian for his wonderful comments about meme culture and moments in internet history, and it's pretty shocking to see an entire hour's length of lifted content that was posted and reuploaded subsequently. It's blatant plagiarism.

That made me so utterly confused. How many creators could I ever even trust after this whole exposé? That spiral sent me into an obsessive drive where I combed through entire sections of my work trying to find anything that might seem plagiarised, until I lifted one of the paragraphs from the first chapter of my work and pasted it in a plagiarism checker.

Result? 100% plagiarised.

WHEN DID I LIFT AN ENTIRE PARAGRAPH FOR MY FANFIC??

As with any person with anxiety, I blamed the AI, the website, the faults in the system, the coffee I had for yesterday that made me still have lingering jitters.

Until I saw the link to the original work.

It was MY FANFIC. No, not the one on ao3, MY FANFIC THAT I CROSSPOSTED ON WATTPAD.

I almost laughed out in shock.

To be honest, fanfiction is very derivative by nature, it's pretty understandable for it to have some semblance of original work in order for it to work in the first place. But the idea of it being completely copy pasted seemed so odd and unfair. It felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest for a moment, but who knows, it might be the coffee I had yesterday. Damn Starbucks, the cornerstone of modern capitalism.

For long, I was trying to search for the original work that inspired my fanfic Infernum in the first place. No, I'm not talking about Diabolik Lovers. There was an original work on ao3 that I had taken a reference from while creating the characters and backgrounds in Infernum, either because I hadn't really found a similar story or because one of my previous ideas didn't match with my plot. Or maybe the idea seemed so pretty that I wanted to expound upon it and spend 40 chapters over exploring that theme. Obviously that didn't work out, you'll see later.

In that search for years, I could never find the original fiction, alas. It was a burning curiousity where it felt like even getting inspiration in the form of ideas was immoral for me, even while doing a presumably derivative work: writing a fanfiction.

But the real motive of writing this is the fact that a lot of settings, characters and plot points that I gather become something entirely different from what I set out to make. A lot of those are inspired from other media, real life events, spirals of caffiene induced anxiety at 3 a.m. that provide more depth into my inner consciousness than an LSD trip. They should really classify coffee as a drug eh?

You remember I told you two paragraphs ago that my plan of exploring themes discussed in that original fiction didn't work out? A lot of the plot points and outlines I had set out to explore, I couldn't even string into the story. That's because stories are living, breathing beasts that keep evolving with time. I set out to write a simple story about this one scene I had in my mind but it takes 30 chapters to reach that scene, so I wrote the 30 chapters before realising that my original vision felt too small for the organism I had created. It's like the ship of Theseus, isn't it? When do you know the original ship stops existing, and the new one gains reality?

If someone does plagiarise, it's wrong, but when does it stop being inspired and get plagiarised instead?

Ideas can be plagiarised. So can words, characters and plots. When do you stop blaming plagiarism and start claiming inspiration?

It also raises the question towards what tools we use to examine the plagiarism. TwatGPT might not be the best thing in the world to examine the human creation of fiction. It's akin to running your work through a meatgrinder, and examining it under a lens. You know, maybe it's lifted from the fanfic you crossposted to the website that now feeds unsuspecting preteens ads every five minutes while they read another cookie cutter romance novel.

Maybe technology should be blamed as well. What about the aforementioned TwatGPT that collects datasets from the very site that gets shunned for being banal, that gets loads of crap for writers merely expressing themselves, for providing much needed media where queer people get accurate, realistic representation.

As I mentioned, after a while, fanfics take a soul of their own, so the data lifted by A.I. could easily be exploited into being incorporated within "original" works. This has led to many of my fellow fanfiction writers in locking their works to private and banning user access from unregistered accounts. It's especially disheartening, since I know that a lot of people are not accessing explicit content through their accounts. All of my work is NSFW, and most of my loyal readers are commenting anonymously using the guest feature. Hacking your readership into half for the sake of protecting your rights and intellectual property feels like true Orwellian horror.

Even if one makes the argument that it's a machine programme, it doesn't distiguish between data, how else will it learn? Well, if it's lifting up entire works and presenting you presumably "real" content while the said content is regurgitated, soulless strings of words, it's not even excusable. Where the intelligence in ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE when your machine doesn't even know how to develop a proper idea?

Human creation is and always will be unique. It's not second hand or uninspired if it was heavily influenced from outside environment or preexisting media. As I learned in an art lesson, no two artworks can ever be alike. Even if one manages to copy an entire painting, you can never mimic brushstrokes of an aged, shivering hand, or the personalised touch of the creator, or the fingerprints embedded in the titanium white oil paint over the canvas. Human creation is always meant to come off original, and it's not by design, it's by polymorphism.

How do you combat this apocalypse of original content?

Simply write. It's not the first time that technology has been used against creativity, and it certainly won't be the last. The concern for the current generation shouldn't be vested in protection of original content alone, but to produce numerous new works. It's not going to be perfect, but creation is the only answer. Human content is precious by nature of being unique everytime it is being produced, so produce your own.

Regardless of how bare bones it might be, it has character, it has depth, it challenges the norm by sheer existence, and that, is what matters the most.

[asumofwords]

I've never experienced such grief because of a fanfic, like I burst out 9 times crying in the span of a few hours, literally having mini mental breakdowns. I prepared myself for an unhappy ending, but not like this idk, if aemond had died 20ish chapters ago, I would've cheered, but watching his character develop, him and the reader fall in love, now his death is so painful to even accept. I know there was no other way but holy shit?

You know you're in so much denial when what literally consoles you is literally just ‘they're happy in an alternate universe’ or ‘things didn't go badly in another universe.’ just basically clinging onto the hope of the events not happening in a different universe inside your lil head 😭 but tbh it's the only thing that's helping me rn, I can't wait to read the rest of the story. I wonder how she will move forward!! this story has completely broken me, idk how I'll recover when this finishes, I don't think I'll be even able to reread this cause I'll just end up crying whenever Aemond says anything romantic to her knowing what happened LIKE GOD DAMN. I imagine how painful it must've been for her to choose. Honestly I feel kind of bitter that Aemond would've chosen her over his family, I mean he quite literally did, but she ended up choosing her family over him and that only makes the betrayal he felt in that moment worse. The realisation that it will never be him. She will never choose him, but i had a feeling that he knew deep down. He was also stupid to not renew the treaty. He pushed her to the point of choosing, and she did. It wasn't him. I just hope in the end it's all worth it for the reader, I at least want her to end up happy but honestly I can't really expect that knowing the direction this is headed!

I absolutely love this story, it has been my hyperfixation and comfort in a strange sort of way, and I'm looking forward to reading the final chapters. Thanks for creating such a beautiful piece of fanfic, I don't think I'll ever be the same again hahaha.

Wow thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺

Im so happy that you have been enjoying and finding comfort in this series !!! It’s been a long and crazy ride

100% though, Aemond really shouldn’t have forced the reader to choose, because she has so much more to lose than him :(

[sofoulandfairaday]

Forgive me if you've already said this, but where can I read your fics? Your opinions are always very interesting and I am intrigued to see them developed into a story.

Ya can’t lmao

No, see, I mostly write for myself because I enjoy it and therefore it’s shameless self-indulgent content. I cry when writing sad scenes, I giggle at the crack-y ones, I get flustered with the smut, I spend hours researching the little details like book titles and whether jasmine grows in Venice or not and what the magical hierarchy of cities is and how dark magic can also heal and not just destroy and how not to make the characters overpowered because that is such a pet peeve of mine. It’s very VERY specific to my taste and I overthink every single word I write (yes, the curtains are yellow for a reason). I do have a very long 50+ chapter WIP which will maybe be published when finished. Since every fucking chapter is about 8K words long it will never be finished and no one will ever bother reading it ihihihihi.

(Just publish the first chapters!, you say. I wish I could write linearly, I reply)

Also, there is another HUGE problem. Most of my stuff is written in Italian. The very few excerpts on here are translated. Do you know how hard it is to try and convey the precise feelings you had when writing something, the word plays and the very specific descriptions in another language? It’s a whole job, and a boring one most of the time, which means that my Anna Karenina length fucking fan fiction (not even close to finished) has to be translated by me in my nonexistent down time. Also, I used to be one of those people who bitched about GRRM, but MAN my story has maybe spiralled into 100 different directions and I have no idea which version of the characters I want to stick to, what order I want to give certain events, and if they are IC or not anymore. Can you tell that I’m a perfectionist and I make even fun things unfunny?

Which is also why I’m so behind with the fics I want to read and review both in eng and ita. I DO see the new stuff published and I have NO time to look at it let alone tell the author what I think.

(Also I erase half of what I write because cringe and I have a self-insert OC - double cringe - that was meant to be a fun minor wink wink character in two (2) chs that has become important so now it CAN’T be a self-insert and i have to make psychologically complex except now she’s too bitchy and then she’s not bitchy enough to the point she is nothing like me now which kind of invalidates the point entirely. Also, I hate everybody else’s OCs so why should my writing have one when I could concentrate on other characters?? Except I can’t give her role to anyone else unless I rewrite half of the whole thing so I am stuck and-)

When Olivia Rodrigo said and I hate every song I write and I’m not cool and I’m not smart (and I can’t even parallel park) that’s me :))))

I am so sorry anon by the way this wasn’t meant to be a rant you’ve just opened Pandora’s box and now I’m afraid I come off as a little unhinged. I am honestly flattered that you would send this, bless you. You’re my favourite ❤️

WITH THAT BEING SAID, there is something of mine on the internet (most of it SUCKS). Unless you know Italian you won’t be able to read it though. My account on a very popular Italian fanfic site still has my old little Bellamort song fics from when I was 13 (I can’t even bring myself to cancel them because cancelling them would mean opening them and opening them means I combust from the cringe). My views of the characters have also changed and I stand by NOTHING lmao. There is also some new stuff which is all smut (some I’m proud of and some I’ll delete as soon as I get over myself and just open the damn site) and maybe one (1) one-shot that I’m actually proud of.

And in English? The only thing that has ever been translated in English as of now is 8K+ words of filthy (and I mean filthy) PW very little P smut which I will not link on an account that actual people from my actual offline life might find (it’s hard enough to explain what’s on here) . However if you know me it’s not impossible to track down (or you can just dm me). There is no deeper meaning or philosophical themes or anything like that tho; if you’re attracted to my thoughtful metas where I quote and dissect the book passages or my quirky headcanons where I tease the characters, this is not that. This is just them fucking.

Sorry ❤️

[clearwingedmaven]

Aight. Let's do this.

1) I don't recall! At least 7?

2) Writing Epistolary(it's a lot of fun!)

3) 9-1-1(And Lonestar), Tracker, Overwatch, Moon Knight and Sherlock Holmes

4) 7!

5) None really, I tend to write more platonic stuff, but absolutely, 100% Bobby Nash x Athena Grant from 9-1-1.

6) Colter Shaw(Tracker), Evan "Buck" Buckley(9-1-1), Bobby Nash(9-1-1), Owen Strand(9-1-1 Lonestar) Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley(Moon Knight), the Supports of Overwatch, Sherlock Holmes, and Doctor John Watson

7) 9-1-1, 9-1-1 Lonestar, Overwatch, and Tracker.

8) Tbh all? It's been fun writing them!

9) Either You Used to Call Me Pops, But Now I Call You Son, Maybe I Want My Brothers Back, or The Stars Are Brightly Shining.

10) *Laughs nervously* Finish...?

11) Tbh, Maybe I Want My Brothers Back and my 9-1-1 fic. So much pausing at little moments...

12) Supports Need Support, Too. Cracky fic inspired by my Overwatch shenanigans.

13) I'll get back to you on that one!

14) It varies! Right now it's either Christmas Truce or Angels Calling by Sabaton.

15) Maybe I Want My Brothers Back. I had NO idea what I wanted to call it...

16) Supports Need Support Too

17) Evan Buckley could count the number of times on one hand that he was ever acknowledged growing up. That'd he'd see something in his parents' eyes other than a quiet vacancy and anger whenever he managed to enter the picture. (You Used to Call Me Pops, but Now I Call You Son)

18) This must be what coming back feels like. Coming home to family. The one that loved him through thick and thin, and saw Buck for Buck, not an empty shell of what Daniel could have been.

And it felt so good. “Thanks, Pops.” Buck got out, muffled by Bobby’s shirt, as he heard a soft laugh from Bobby. (Same fic as prior, from Chapter 6)

“Of course, son.” Bobby said. Scratch that. It feels amazing.

19) "You did what?" A Spiritualist shrieked as their crowd clamored into a frenzy as well. "Mabel, what did you do?"

"I can tell you that. I, one of the Spirits of Whitechapel, witnessed what took place. Your leader, Reginald Hatt, worked with Mabel Bennett to get rid of Louis Abbott, and now his spirit is stuck here on Earth for what you did!" Cried the spirit, pointing a damning finger at Reginald and Mabel.

"It is because of their evil that the Spirits can not rest!"

"You killed Louis? I told you to get rid of him, not kill him!" Mabel shrieked at Reginald as both crowds turned as one, staring at the two "leaders." (The Stars Are Brightly Shining, Sherlock Holmes Fanfic)

20) “They know him by name?” Mateo half-crowed, as Marjan nudged his shoulder. “Really?” She half chided.

“What? I think it's kinda cute! He gets excited about skincare, so it's nice to see he has places to go to, y'know?” Mateo said, his cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment. “Back me up, TK, did Cap have this kind of thing in New York?”

TK chuckled. “He did. He took me with him at least twice for moisturizer. Got to the point where they figured out when my birthday was and sent cards.” (The One With Sephora, 9-1-1 Lonestar fic)

21) How much research was needed for some of these... definitely added more detail!

22) Google Docs.

23) Coming back to some of my fics after so long... and making people cry over the angst and hurt/comfort.

24) Again, finish?

25) See above

26) Nope!

27) Currently involved in the December Calendar Challenge over in the SH fandom...?

28) Literally everyone who's supported me this far.

29) Finish at least ONE fic.

30) More finished fics!

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[zannolin]

😈🍦 hiiiii -kai

hi kai!! <3

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

erm. yeahhh....i mean technically the entire structure of the boys in bars series was for those purposes. not ENTIRELY; part of it was that i felt like it would function better as a series of oneshots, and i absolutely love the option to leave it open-ended if you just read close encounters but still have the happier ending available....but uhhh yeah. yeah, the ending of both fics was definitely me being like, 100% evil and having fun with it also. and the part in some mad hope where will thinks mike isn't answering the door on purpose. also me being evil.

the other big one is the reveal at the end of chapter eight of the fey au, where it's like SIKE wilbur chose to come here all along (which had been very specifically foreshadowed beforehand but in subtle ways pretty much no one caught onto) and i sat on that damn plot twist for SO LONG without revealing it to anyone but my coworker in the back kitchen at work because i needed SOMEONE to know. it was wild.

i can guarantee i've done it at other points as well; i'm sure it happened in the abba AU, if not left of the dial as well, but those are the most recent ones i can remember giggling about while writing.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

huh, good question. i would say probably safety blanket, because it's just good ole fluff and letting the shazamily have a nice night. there have been other tender ones but nothing quite sweet without some bitter to go along. if we want to get down to individual scenes, though, then this scene from split ends is the most disgustingly endearing thing i've ever written:

For a moment, Mia is silent, and then she pushes herself upright, drawing her legs up under her, and reaches out a hand. She wraps cold fingers around the scar circling his left wrist. Her hand can’t fit all the way around, not quite. “This was me,” Mia whispers. Her fingers move to the slow-fading mark in the middle of his palm, on the back of his hand, cupping it in both of hers, ghosting over the place a screwdriver pinned him to the wall. “And this.” Her hair falls over her eyes as she stares down at it. She won’t look at him. Ethan wants her to look at him. He turns his hand in hers, captures it gentle and quick and guides it to rest on his chest. “And this,” he says, reaching out to push the hair away from her face. She stares up at him, uncomprehending, and he wonders: when did you stop believing that I loved you? (Was it in Dulvey, surrounded by rot and mold and death and cruelty, or was it before that?) He holds her palm firmly over the beating of his heart, refusing to let her pull away, to retreat any further from him and the truth. “Don’t forget you stole this, too.”

man i love them. thank you for the ask bestie!!

fanfic writer emoji asks!

[sixstepsaway]

It has been 300 years since I've worked on a particular fanfic and I want to return to writing it but I am filled with Concern About My Writing Abilities and Anxious Procrastination. I come to your blog to humbly request words of wisdom and/or encouragement. I will send an ask about Izzy Hands as humble offering.

OKAY. PULL UP A SEAT.

Firstly: read my blog title. No, really; read it. There's no such thing as wasted words, you improve every time you write, so if you go back to your fanfic and you write 1000 or 10,000 or even 100,000 words and you're like "man, this is shit, I don't want to post this" it's fully and 100% okay to delete all that crap and do it again but better. You've learned. You have upped your skill. You have levelled up, it's just that in Real Life (damn that reality thing) you don't get a cute little ding when you level up, you just have to believe it's happening.

Second, I genuinely think most creative skills are like riding a bike, except maybe not the way you expect. I don't think that when you pull that bike back up you just immediately and without fail know how to ride and don't fall off, but I do think that after an hour or so of scraping your knees and rolling around in the dirt, you will get the hang back, instead of it taking however many hours and hours it took for you to get that skill to begin with.

If you get back on the bike, steel yourself and start pedaling, you will remember how to ride eventually, even if it doesn't feel like that at first.

Assuming that you are not a vampire and are in fact a human being and are exaggerating somewhat with the claim that it's been three hundred years since you last wrote this fic, I also believe in seasons of creativity. Sometimes you'll output so much you're like, "Where did all these words come from?" and other times weeks or months or even years will pass with little to no writing (or art, or sculpting, or sewing, or whatever creativity you might do) to show for it and that's okay.

Plants go dormant in winter and bloom once more in the spring, and so will your writing if you let it. It's okay.

If you're worried about consistency, I highly recommend going back to your WIP and rereading it. Curl up in a cozy blanket with your phone or sit with a cup or tea or something and just...read through your fic again, and let yourself enjoy it as a reader, not just the author. Make notes in your head (or on paper, if that's what you're feeling) of what you like about it, what you don't like about it, and what things you've written that might be setting up future chapters or passages for you to draw from. My longest fic is an cql fic which is 86k and when I do go back to add more to it (which I do plan on doing), I will reread it all before I do, and not only get that reader-y feeling of, "Damn, I wish this had more chapters!" but also refresh my memory of where I was going with it and what my plans were.

Now, as for procrastination. Is your Anxious Procrastination because of anxiety about your writing abilities? If so, all of that above might just help, and at the end of the day you don't have to post anything you don't want to. You can write and write and it never see the light of day, if that's what you want.

You don't have to feel anxious about posting until the moment you decide to post.

For other kinds of procrastination my Official ADHD-Haver Recommendations are:

Get a timer app or one of those cube things, set it to a reasonable amount of time (say, 15-20 minutes) and turn it on/flip it over and tell yourself you will Work On The Thing for that long. Having an "end" time for if you struggle works wonders for giving my brain the feeling of leaving when things are too hard, but I rarely have to use it, I usually just keep going. I also find the physical act of turning on the timer (I use YAPA aka Yet Another Pomodoro App for Windows) clicks my brain into a different Zone than "sitting around messing with Minecraft" or "doing absolutely nothing and being mad at myself about it".

Find a playlist or some ambience or something. Earmark it as your Writing This Specific Fic music/sounds. Only turn it on when you're working, and turn it off when you're done. Pavlov is a strong tool for these things.

I'm a big fan of 4TheWords which is a gamification app for writing. I really like it (I have a referral code if you want one), and I find the fun vibes, the inclusive atmosphere, the cute lil creatures you battle while writing etc all really helps give me a dopamine hit while I work that I don't really get from just writing into Scrivener or something.

FocusWriter is another app I really like. You can customize the themes (so you could put like a blurry OFMD image in the background for the vibes while you write) and it's (optionally) full screen to minimize distractions.

If you're still struggling to get started, maybe find like a list of numbered prompts, roll a dice and write like 100-500 words of just... whatever comes up for whatever character or ship you feel like writing. Something just to get you started. I always find it easier to write once I've written, if that makes sense.

Always leave your work unfinished at the end of each day. Sounds daft, but what I mean is: always stop for the day mid-sentence, mid-word if you can. When you come back, you'll see, for example, this: "Izzy has never felt so betr" just lingering on your writing app and you'll go, "Oh yeah, betrayed," and you'll type out the "-ayed" and your fingers will just keep going to finish the sentence, and the paragraph, and so on. That said, if you're posting a final chapter of something, maybe just start the first sentence of whatever you want to write next? Even if you don't come back to really dig into it, you have that word to finish. (I left mine at the end of a sentence today and I am mad at myself for it)

Reread the comments on your fic, if you have them. Let how much people love and enjoy your work wash over you.

Open your writing app of choice and write down all the reasons you're anxious on a bulleted list, then go back, hit enter on each one, tab in for a bullet underneath, and argue with yourself. Tell yourself why your anxiety is so silly and why you're super wrong. Not only does it get you typing into your writing app (see what I did there???) but you'll be surprised how much debating yourself can help with anxiety.

I find most of my own Anxious Procrastination comes from fears of publishing (both my original stuff and my fic), because the idea of Putting Things Out There To Potentially Never Be Finished (hi, yes, I have ADHD and I never finish a damn thing unless I try So Hard It Hurts - see also: my 80k unfinished cql fic) and then am I not a Failure? Am I not a Let Down?

But I also got some amazing comments on that fic, from people who genuinely got a lot out of it, even if it did never get finished (so far 😠) and so I go back and read those, and remember that most of the people who commented on those chapters didn't... really care, if it never finished. They cared that the specific chapter that really got to them existed to begin with.

And I also think of Game of Thrones a little (well, the books). If he never finishes those books, would it take away from the joy people got from reading the ones he did put out there? I don't think so.

So I try to focus on that, with my own anxiety.

This got a little rambly (what, Jess? You? Rambling? Never!) but I hope it helped. Let me know if it did or didn't, please! 💖 And good luck with your writing endeavors!

[altruistic-meme]

AFTG fic recs

Hi all! I just wanted to share some of my all-time favorite fanfics for aftg, for no real reason other than I want more people to read them and send their love to the authors :) 

Under a readmore because it got. A little long. But please enjoy!

WIPs

Dangerous Habits by LovelyLittleGrim ( @lovelylittlegrim )

Andrew has run into problems while on undercover jobs before. None of those problems were anything like the troublesome runaway that is one Nathaniel Wesninski

Aka: the fic where Andrew is undercover as a hitman for hire and Neil is the guy who hires him. Things get complicated from there.

Undercover Andrew? BAMF Neil? Hitman AU?? Absolutely. I’m in love. The story is just *chef kisses*

Chapters: 8/9

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, past rape/non-con, Drake Spear (who is his own warning), Butcher Neil, 

--

Negotiations by elesary ( @elesary )

This is what Andrew Minyard knows: his brother is dead, killed by a petty Raven prince who has never learned to keep his hands off of Andrew's things. His brother's daughters are his responsibility, a job that is made infinitely harder when their shitty grandparents want custody. Nathaniel Wesninski is a liar, but he might be the only way to avenge Aaron and protect his nieces. All Andrew has to do is watch Nathaniels - Neil's- back as he carves out his own life and identity from everyone who thinks they own him.

Andrew has always been good at upholding his end of the bargain, has he finally found someone willing to uphold theirs?

This fic has got me fucked up, honestly. I’m emotional over it. It’s fantastic.

Chapters: 11/?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, attempted sexual assault, Butcher Neil,

--

the upper hand by plantelty ( @plantelty  )

Shortly after losing his mother, Neil arrives in the small town of Palmetto, South Carolina, alone in the world and with an impossible plan to carry through.

At the age of eighteen, Andrew ends up helping a boy stage his own death.

-

Just two fucked up boys learning to trust each other during the course of a summer, but also: multiple references to songs, twinyard angst (Nicky tries his best), The Plotting of Neil Josten's Gruesome Demise, and shit hitting the fan in a variety of ugly ways!

The cliffhanger has got me on the edge of my seat, but it is 100% worth the read and the wait for the last chapter!! 

Chapters: 10/11

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Canon typical violence, 

--

The Butcher’s House by Fire_Bear ( @fire-bear )

Andrew thought something was odd with the house the Foxes had to move into after their Athletes' House had been burnt down. He just wasn't prepared for what was actually wrong with it.

For this was a house full of monsters.

Ghost story! Ghost story! Ghost story! I literally think about this fic every other day, it’s fantastic. 

Chapters: 6/?

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: character death (major or minor is unclear), injuries, 

--

Promise of an Unbroken Boy by elesary ( @elesary​ )

Neil is caught by the police with Mary's burning body and is sent to juvie in Oakland where he is assigned to share a cell with one Andrew Doe, who promises him Exy, if only Neil will tell him all of his secrets. With no access to tinted contacts and hair dye, he agrees, it's only a matter of time until he's killed after all. What does he have to lose?

But Andrew's found someone who knows what a promise means, and he'll be damned if he lets that go without a fight.

Ngl this is definitely in my very top favorites -- I LOVE the idea of Neil and Andrew meeting pre-series, and this fic just BLEW my expectations for that plotline out of the waters

Chapters: 14/?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Underage, attempted rape/non-con, canon-typical violence, 

~~~~~~~~~

Complete

The Nameless Monster by kanekicure ( @kanekicure )

Nathaniel Wesninski wants nothing more than to see his father dead and buried. But when his father promises him the title of The Butcher, Nathaniel quickly realizes that his destiny of following in his father's footsteps is closer than ever before.

So of course, when he gets forced to go undercover for the Baltimore police, he starts seeing what living could truly be.

-

Andrew Minyard is a newly recruited police officer for the worst precinct in Baltimore, who is dedicated on hunting down the notorious Butcher and his unnamed underling. But when Neil Josten is thrown into his midst as his civilian consultant; he starts to realize some things don't quite appear as they seem.

I love the story telling -- the secret identities, the plotting, everything.

Chapters: 14/14

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Butcher Neil, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced slef-harm (I believe there is a scene that is somewhat detailed on this subject), some characters also get drugged at one point, 

-- 

that’s just something people say by nanatsuyu ( @theoctopusnods )

Neil makes the mistake of stealing the wrong car. Andrew makes the mistake of offering a ride to a liar. They both make the mistake of turning the whole affair into a road trip ‘home.’

Gonna be honest; the summary does not give a big idea as to what is in store and i am SO GLAD I gave this one a try so i’m telling you that you will be too

Chapters: 24/24

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, panic attacks (somewhat grahic descriptions of)

--

The Story After You by kanekicure ( @kanekicure )

Andrew Minyard does not understand how Riko Moriyama landed Neil Wesninski.

How the snot-nosed, small dick, rich brat, second son of the Moriyama family who also just so happened to own the largest EXY gear and merchandiser company in the world “RAVEN” - had landed smart mouthed, quick witted, stupidly blue eyed Wesninski, was beyond him. Well, unless Wesninski was a gold digger, but Andrew doubted it.

-

Or; how Andrew Minyard says he doesn't get into messy situations, until he meets Neil and suddenly he is in the most messiest possible situation ever imagined in his life - oh and also, he might be becoming a homewrecker.

Ok I am behind bc I haven’t read the final chapter of this but!! I love the story, it’s very emotional and moving, and I love the characterization in it.

Chapters: 10/10

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Abusive Riko/Neil, abusive relationship, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/reference child abuse, implied/referenced self-harm, graphic depictions of violence, some descriptions of injuries/scarring, 

-- 

This Complicated Life by 5a5b5p5 ( @andrewsbutterflyknife )

“This is exactly why I don’t want you and Andrew to meet,” Aaron says grumpily. “You two would get along far too well.”

Neil grins. “I just like pissing you off,” he says, “It’s not my fault your brother does such a good job at it.”

—

Neil doesn’t expect much from his Sophomore year of college, but when he becomes a waiter at the Palmetto Bistro, his life gets a whole lot more interesting. As it turns out, maintaining friendships new and old as well as navigating an interesting relationship with the head chef of the restaurant—who just so happens to be his best friend’s twin brother—is a lot more complicated than he’d thought it would be.

A much more light-hearted fic than most of the others! Includes a secret relationship, and also chef Andrew >>

Chapters: 10/10

Rating: Mature

Warnings: 

--

When I Fade, Keep Me in Your Memory by demesh 

Neil Josten has a secret: he can flicker out of existence.

He can vanish with the turn of a thought; click his fingers, and suddenly he’s not there anymore. Invisible and untouchable, he becomes a living ghost.

Having promised his mother never to let his ability go, Neil teeters the line between faded and real, a person and an echo. He can’t risk getting hurt.

But then, one day, someone sees him when they shouldn’t be able to.

 A (flower-shop) AU about how a faded and lonely Neil finds it in him to become someone real.

Another fic that I need to catch up on ;; but anyway it’s amazing and I love Neil’s ability in it, it’s so well explained and well-written about

Chapters: 12/12

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, panic attacks

--

12 Ways to Woo a Minyard by NikNak22 ( @knickknacksandallthat )

Neil is a math nerd who, by a stroke of dumb luck, falls into a group of friends that are the closest thing to family he’s ever had. So, when he tells them about his new mysterious crush, he shouldn’t be surprised how immediately they come up with a plan to help win them over. One they insist that if Neil follows it, he’ll have them falling for him in no time. But things don’t always go to plan – or do they?

Nicky wants to set him up with someone else. Matt and Jeremy are confused but supportive. Allison and Seth offer lewd suggestions, while Dan does her best to keep everyone in line. Jean and Renee know something, Aaron doesn’t really care, and Kevin just wants Neil to join the lacrosse team.

But one thing’s for certain – whether Neil’s successful or not, everyone’s got money riding on this.

The romance-trope-filled fanfic of my dreams. Sometimes you just need a fic of pure joy -- this is that fic. 

Chapters: 14/14

Rating: Mature

Warnings: 

--

finders keepers by moonix ( @annawrites ​ )

Andrew meets Nathaniel through a scavenger hunt app. As their team takes part in a hunt that sends each of them to creepy, abandoned places alone to solve clues and gain points, Andrew and Nathaniel begin a little treasure hunt of their own. The anonymity of getting to know each other in small increments, never meeting face-to-face, allows them a level of intimacy neither are used to. Meanwhile Renee’s friend Neil is acting weird whenever Andrew shows up…

This was one of the first fics I read for aftg!! And BOY what a great start!! All of the little pieces and parts that work together, and just the scavenger hunt itself is fantastic! (I also REALLY wanna know if there is an app like this out there because I would be down to do that)

Chapters: 8/8

Rating: Mature

Warnings: (these all come from the author:) “mentions of historical abuse in a mental asylum, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder and kidnapping, morbid facts, creepy abandoned places including a haunted house at a theme park with disturbing rooms, special appearance of a creepy clown doll, fatphobia and some introspection on body image/complicated relationship with food, mention of self harm scars”

-----

Scared to Live (But I’m Scared to Die) by Major_816 ( @major816 )

Neil Josten goes to the Nest for Andrew, but he stays for a lot more.

~

"I'm sorry Coach," he muttered.

"For what kid?" Wymack shifted. "You've got to give me something to work with here."

Wymack watched the thin traces of sorrow as paper exchanged hands and he was looking down at a contract with the Edgar Allan Raven's.

"I signed them Coach, I'm sorry."

~

The one where Neil doesn't come back from Winter Break.

It is VERY dark, and is one of very few fics that I have actually been almost unable to read one of the scenes, so DEFINITELY pay attention to the warnings -- both these, and the ones provided for each individual chapter. I did go through the fic to collect as many warnings as I could find in the chapter warnings, but be sure to take care of yourself.

Chapters: 36/36

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: rape/non-con elements, implied/referenced rape/non-con, discussions of rape/non-con, canon-typical violence, graphic descritions, physical abuse, panic attacks, descriptions of injuries (often graphic), psychological warfare, dissociating, psychological torture, physical torture, use of knives, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, pain-induced delirium, rape/non-con, emotional self-separation, suicidal ideation/thoughts of suicide, emotional distress (which sums up the whole fic and also me while reading it), handcuffs/chains used as restraints, referenced/implied abuse towards animals, vomitting, begging, excessive use of painkillers, drowning, waterboarding, physical restraint, mutilation of an animal, mild hallucinations, non-con drugging, sleep deprivation, starvation, humiliation, the Butcher, 

Also one of the first fics I read and 100% my absolute favorite fic!!! Which is adfjhsd a little worrying, considering, but it is what it is. Anyway. This fic absolutely wrecked me, and while it is technically complete, there is a sequel in the works! So! But I am so so excited for the sequel, and I am working on rereading this. It’s amazing. 1000/10.

[bekkachaos]

Hiiii lovely Bekka for fanfic ask game 🔁 💯💘 ✨ ?

Thank you Myn 🥰

🔁 A fic you’ve re-read several times

The Cowboy’s Christmas Ball by arielana {Malex}

It's just an enjoyable little meet-ugly AU where Alex accidentally insults Michael before he realises that he's the cocky cowboy he's getting set up with.

💯 A fic that makes you think #writergoals

stupid people by @queerbitchdiaz {Buddie}

I have literally put off reading the final chapter of this fic because it's so good I want to savour it. The set up and planning of this fic is 100% writer goals. And it's got me putting a lot more thought into my next multi chapter AU fic. This is just, sooo good!

💘 A fic you couldn't stop reading once you started

Things are shaping up to be pretty odd by aewriting {Malex}

A cute little snowed in AU where Michael sees Alex again for the first time in a long time, and they get to reconnect. I just had to finish it once I started!

✨ A fic you wish you could read again for the first time

Let my ink stain your pages by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels {Buddie}

This is the Castle AU I never knew I needed but my god I loved it so much! I smiled so wide so many times through this, I looked forward to every chapter because I knew it would make me laugh and grin. Because who doesn't love chaotic author Buck and detective Eddie trying not to fall for each other (and being such idiots about it because obviously you are both in love just communicate damn it!) I wish I could erase it from my memory so I'd be able to start it all over. Absolutely amazing!

Fanfic writers out there, you are all true treasures 💕

[andimpink-on-ao3]

Friendo of mine Elitespacefreak recommended Not a Glitch because I was a bit salty with tumblr's search results and just...I saw you had a tumblr and I absolutely HAD to come over here and rant.

How actually DARE you be so absolutely amazing at writing?? The sheer AUDACITY of you to be able to string together human mouth noises into coherent thiught and weave together such an absolutely enthralling piece of work called storytelling??

I'm so baffled!?! It's so well thought out and detailed to the point I legit sat here and binge read the entire thing in one sitting (food and potty breaks taken as well as a healthy dose of hydration because omg my dude ya got a girl thirsty for a slow burn!?!)

Man oh man. I just...idk what to do with myself anymore lol I'm all caught up on my two current fave fics and it's all stormy outside and matches my whole ass mood of the salty big sads🤣🤣

I absolutely 100% love your story and I truly do hope the muses bless you with word flow abundance and a peaceful external nonwriting life so that you can continue to bless us unworthy masses with your literary beauty🥰🥰🥰

Ahhhh 😳🥰😅 Thank you so much for all the kind words about Not A Malfunction. I'm so glad you enjoyed it and hearing as much really touches this authoress.

I really wonder where I got the audacity for this fic sometimes, too. Maybe my writing skills finally aged long enough (since I've been writing fanfic since 2012). Ten years is a long time to be on this shit, but damn is it enjoyable 😅

Anyhow, let's just say I've improved over the years and just want people to have what I want in a fic: something of quality that is readable and enjoyable. I'm happy to hear that I'm on the right trek with that, complete with details and an interesting plot.

Muses willing, I'll have the next chapter out before the week is out. I have a two day weekend, so there is ample opportunity and downtime to be able to accomplish much. I plan on doing just that. You shouldn't have to wait too long for more 💖💖💖

Again, thank you for all your kind words. I'm always extremely flattered by what readers have to say about my stories. It waters my crops and blesses my writing fields so I can provide even more chapters for you all to enjoy.

@elitespacefreak Thank you for sending your very sweet friend this way. Love your Peace of Mind Monty x y/n fic and will be more than happy to send any friends of my own your way 💖💖💖

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 14

Sweetheart

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n and Steve have some time alone

Warnings: smut, lots of smut. Sweet sex. Maybe some swearing, knowing me there’s probably some

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"Hey, sweetheart." Steve grinned, pulling y/n into a quick kiss as she walked down to breakfast. She gave him a warm smile, leaning onto his touch as Steve wrapped and arm over her shoulders and pulled y/n into him.

"What just happened?" Clint mused, a frown settling on his face as his eyes flicked between the two of them. Nat quirked a brow, Thor smiled like and idiot and Tony rolled his eyes.

"I- I think they just kissed." Bruce supplied, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Finally." Nat muttered, pushing her food around her plate. Thor was still grinning, the curl of his lips boyish.

"What are you so happy about?" Steve asked, brows raised but tone playful.

"Just the fact that Tony here," Thor clapped Tony on the shoulder, "owes me 100 dollars now." Thor confessed, Tony's unamused expression making everyone laugh. Of course y/n's came out silent.

"You bet how long it'd take us to get together?" Steve inquire, and Tony smirked.

"No, I bet you wouldn't get the balls to ask her out because you're frigid and have no clue how to talk to women." He explained.

"I talk to Nat!" Steve countered.

"Nat doesn't count, she's a coworker. And most probably gay." Tony said flatly, and Nat merely shrugged when Steve looked to her for help.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Clint asked after the silence had ensued the room. Tony began to speak but Thor cut him off, earning the Asgardian God a glare.

"We're going to find Bucky." He said optimistically. Y/n instantly perked up, eyes flickering between the super soldier sat beside her and her dad across the table.

"What? Don't look at me!" Steve exclaimed, hands held up in surrender. Tony breathed a heavy sigh.

"That's not what we're doing. Finding my daughter's HYDRA escapade is merely a bonus, and that's if you could even call it that." Tony dismissed and y/n sent him a look at could kill. "Today, we are invading a HYDRA base, so I want everyone on their best behaviour." Tony said, eyeing up the avengers in the room. "And you're not coming." He added hastily, pointing a finger at y/n.

"How come?" Nat asked for her.

"Y/n has already been kidnapped by HYDRA twice, I don't feel like it's a good idea to give them the opportunity for a third time." Steve answers before Tony could.

"What is it with everyone and talking over me today?!" Tony complained, pushing back from his seat and dumping his empty coffee mug in the sink. "Meet at the quinjet at 12." Tony turned to leave, not even making it to the door before he was turning around to face steve and y/n again. "And you're not coming either." He said pointedly at the super soldier.

"Wha- why not?!"

"Because of your emotional attachment. I can't have you freaking out and falling onto a river again just because you had some minor nostalgia." Tony said dramatically.

"That's not what happened." Steve defended.

"Close enough." Tony waved off, leaving the room without another word.

...

"How are you?" Steve asked, perching himself beside y/n on the sofa whilst placing the bowel of popcorn on the coffee table.

Shit. We should be with them.

"I know, Doll. I know." Steve sighed, sinking back into the cushions and slinging an arm over the back of the sofa, behind y/n.

I just feel guilty.

"I get it, trust me, I do. I spent years feeling like this before I got the serum. I changed my form five times before Dr Erskine found me." Steve admitted, placing a soft kiss on y/n's cheek as a method of reassurance. "Now," he spoke after a moment, "what are we watching?"

Y/n grinned at that. She'd been catching Steve up with all the movies he'd missed, and at the same time checking out a few of the ones she'd missed in the four years she was with HYDRA.

A classic, one of my personal favourite movies. Or at least it was.

"And what is this movie called, darling?" It was that moment that y/n pressed play, eyes lighting up with excitement when the film begun to play. When the title screen flashed, Steve smiled slightly, having heard of the movie from all the avengers. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's stone flashed on the screen, y/n smile widening at the familiar words.

We're not stopping until we finish all 8 movies, just so you know.

Steve shook his head playfully. They'd been told the mission would last a few days, maybe even a week.

"Good thing Tony has lots of popcorn then." Steve muttered, settling back into the couch as y/n curled against his hard chest.

They barely began the fourth movie before Steve's hands were wandering slightly, skimming over y/n's thighs and tracing small circles into her skin with his thumbs. His lips kissed along the back of her neck, up to her ear.

Y/n turned her head slightly, giving steve a questioning look. He have her a mischievous smile, dipping his head down to her neck and continuing to kiss the smooth skin. Y/n gasped when his lips hovered over the scar, lightly brushing over the raised skin.

"M'bored." He mumbled, hands inching even higher until they skimmed the bottom of her shorts. Y/n let out soft sighs, leaning into Steve's touch. Her eyes fluttered closed, mouth open in a silent moan when his thumb slipped into her shorts and brushed over her now damn panties. He smirked against her skin. "Looks like someone's not so bothered about finishing the movies anymore." He murmured.

Y/n turned around quickly in his lap, connecting their lips in a desperately slow kiss. Steve moaned against her mouth, hand travelling up to tangle in her hair whilst his other hand grasped her thigh and hooked it over his lap, so that y/n was straddling him. Her arm intertwined around his neck when she felt the bulge pressing between her legs, pressing down against it and grinding her hims.

Steve groaned, detaching his lips from hers and trailing them along her jaw, her neck, pulling down y/n's shirt collar slightly to kiss at her collar bone. Y/n threw her head back, hands grasping the bottom of Steve's t-shirt and tugging it over his head. Steve broke away from her for only the time it took to get his shirt over his head before his lips were latched to her skin again, teeth nibbling lightly at her collar bone before his kisses were trailing back up to her ear.

"Are you sure this is okay?" He breathed, biting her earlobe lightly. Y/n nodded, hands trying to find the bottom of her own shirt. Steve pulled away, hands cupping both her cheeks and forcing y/n to look into his eyes. "Are you sure this is okay?" He asked sternly, but his nose brushing hers affectionately said otherwise.

Y/n remained eye contact, nodding slowly so he understood. A massive smile spread over Steve's face, his lips connecting with her's in a passionate kiss, mostly teeth and tongue.

Before they new it, clothes were gone and Steve remained in only his briefs, kneeling on the floor in front of y/n. He picked up her leg, placing a soft kiss to her ankle, then her calf, then her knee. Finally, he reached her core, where he placed a teasing kiss over her clothed clit that made y/n buck her hips up.

"None of that." Steve chuckled, pressing an arm to her stomach to keep y/n's hips pinned to the sofa. He moved away, kissing the inside of her thighs teasingly while she gasped and sighed above him. Steve smirked against her, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her panties before slowly pulling her down her legs.

Steve buried himself between her thighs, eating y/n out like she was his last meal and he was a man starved. Y/n's mouth was permanently open, the lewd moans she would be making substituted with silence as Steve's tongue lapped around her clit, down to her entrance and back up again.

It had been nearly a month since y/n returned from hell, and they hadn't done much more than kiss. Y/n and Steve had decided to keep their relationship secret for a while, knowing that it may stun a couple of their teammates and not to mention how unpredictable Tony's reaction was.

As much a steve wished he could hear y/n moaning - no screaming - his name, Steve was just happy that he could finally get a taste of the girl he loved. Of course, she didn't know his feeling ran quite that deep yet. He moaned into her core, her taste, her sweetness, one he could devour for hours and still be unsatisfied. One of the things spurring him on were Bruce's words: in a few months, her voice should start to return.

Y/n came with a sinful arch to her back, and Steve happily lapped up everything she gave him. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, heavy breathing echoing in the room and Steve fumbled to get out of his trousers and boxers. When they were off, he cooed gently in y/n's ear when she gasped at the size.

"I'll go gentle. If you need me to stop, for any reason, tap me three times with two fingers anywhere and I promise I'll stop." He assured, rolling a condom over his length.

The brightest smile spread on steve lips when the hoarse sound staggered from y/n as he pushed in. We're getting there, he thought. Her eyes widened, an excited sparkle to them in the realisation that she made a noise.

Steve's strokes were slow but powerful, bringing both him and his girl to the edge very quickly. The speed of their release could also be due to the fact that neither of them had been laid in a little while too. Steve's grin never left, the hoarse sounds still coming from y/n. She seemed pleased too, but was way to wrapped out in the feeling of his tip nudging her cervix to care.

When they came, Steve cried out y/n's name with a grunt and a groan, collapsing on the sofa beside her as both avengers tried to catch their breath back.

"That was...amazing." Steve sighed, smirking when he felt y/n nod against his chest, which she'd now curled into with a leg thrown over his waist. Steve pulled a blanket over them both, carding a hand through y/n's hair and rubbing smooth circles into her scarred back.

His fingers ran over the dips and bumps of the raised flesh, a pang of guilt eating at him when Steve realised everything she'd been through. He sighed deeply, sinking further into the sofa as y/n nuzzled into his chest further, he steady breathing telling him she was already fast asleep.

Steve could feel his own eyes drifting shut now, his long eyelashes scraping over his cheeks as sleep pulled him under. Little did Steve know, that the next few weeks would be full of sex with his girl, the act something she'd become obsessed with because she could make a sound whilst he was buried balls-deep within her.

It ended up driving the rest of the team mad, especially Tony. Y/n would try and pull Steve out of conference meetings, tease him throughout briefings and debriefings, keep him up all night when they had nothing to do the next day, just so she could hear her own voice again.

And don't get steve wrong - the sex was wonderful, like entering heaven, but the tiredness that ensued and pulled his whole being down like an anchor wasn't so great.

Everyone noticed it, but Steve would brush them off - after all, he only wanted to see y/n happy, and he loved hearing her voice, no matter how strained it currently was.

So when the team got back from their mission the first time they slept together, devoid of Bucky, Steve and the rest of the team decided to keep the rest of their missions to find the winter soldier on the down low. The shear disappointment steve had seen in y/n's eyes when they told her shattered him, made him want to cry as tears slipped down her reddened cheeks.

[starrybouquet]

On Seasons 9 and 10 of Stargate SG1

A note: I wrote a series of essays several weeks ago, when I was feeling particularly crappy. I'm not particularly proud of them--they're pretty dramatic--but they do explain several of my more personal fandom feelings. I know I don't always tend to be the best at explaining things on the spot, so I'm posting these with the hope that I can refer people to them the next time that happens.

Um, I mentioned they're a little dramatic. I'm really, really sorry about that. But hey, if I can't be dramatic on Tumblr, in fandom, where else is that gonna go?

But still - if you're feeling a little sensitive today, maybe you wanna skip this. Or not. Just a light warning. :)

This piece is on seasons 9 and 10 of Stargate SG1, but they aren't all Stargate-related. I'll be posting them in the next few days, hopefully.

To those of you who like s9-10: I have nothing against you. Some of you I know better, some less well. In general, though, I like you, you seem like fine people. This is not about you, I hold nothing against you for liking those seasons. In fact, I envy you. This is more a personal post about why I'm an idiot. If you want, feel free to scroll down past this. I won't be offended. I'd put it under the cut but I'm on mobile.

Okay. Why, hello, those of you willing to read this rant...

No matter how much I denounce and ignore it, I cannot get past the pain of seasons 9 and 10 of Stargate SG-1. I've never watched them in full. Seen a few episodes here and there.

I cannot, repeat, CANNOT stand the thought today. It hurts.

It's an old pain, and it's not just SG1. SG1 is just one of the highlights in a long line of books and shows that have repeatedly broken my heart by being SO GOOD and then taking an, uh, precipitous right turn, shall we say. Because a hard right seems too kind, and a precipitous drop too harsh.

I love SG1. I love love love it. I like the plots and I love the science, but what I really fell in love with was the characters.

I loved all of them. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: if Sam, Daniel, or Teal'c had been on any other show, I guarantee you they would have been my favorite by far. Jack is just so...Jack that he has to be my favorite. That's SG1 for you.

I've never had super close friends. I have good RL friends, don't get me wrong. They're nice people. But we don't have much in common.

That's okay. That's been my experience forever--really nice folks who maybe didn't always get me or have anything to say to me, but were good, decent people.

And this is good. Really, it is. It's just that SG-1, for me, has always represented the promise that there *are* people out there that are your true friends, and you will do brave and brilliant things with them. It will happen.

It's naive, I know. But I haven't been able to let it go. Maybe someday. But not right now.

Which brings me to s9-10 of SG1. It hurts.

It hurts that SG1 scattered to the wind.

It hurts that they sent Jack away from a place where he was happy, where he'd found friends and meaning in life again, away to fucking DC. To be...what? A politician? I could write a whole post just about this. Actually, I have. I could still write more posts about it!

It hurts that Sam went to Area 51, and nobody seemed to mind, the 'Gate didn't spontaneously combust as we were always led to believe it would.

It hurts that Daniel's personality supposedly changed that much, in the absence of his friends. Though some of his lines are funny, they aren't the earnest, idealistic, thoughtful Daniel I fell in love with. I get the idea that new-look Daniel would roll his eyes at s3-8 Daniel, and beat up floppy hair Daniel. And floppy hair Daniel is my baby and anyone who doesn't appreciate his brilliance can face my wrath. That includes you, buff s9-10 Daniel, and also whoever decided/approved that change in characterization.

Really, the only one who doesn't hurt is Teal'c. Because it feels like he's moving forward, toward happiness.

So...here we are. Season 9. Mitchell, Landry.

I often say I hate Mitchell. Do I resent him for replacing Jack? Yes. I do. We can talk about plot reasons and all that, but at the end of the day, I was going to hate anyone who tried to be Jack.

This is true in real life, too. You can't try to be anyone else. You've gotta walk your own path.

Now, people say that I didn't give Mitchell a chance. I say that the way he was portrayed, in the few episodes I've seen, tells me enough.

I can think of lots of ways Mitchell could have been interesting. How would Daniel and Teal'c react to an old, actually bad tempered (not Jack bad tempered, actually bad tempered) hardass after eight years of their best friends leading them? Or--start with his actual character. Mitchell, he hasn't been at the SGC. Wouldn't he get some flack from the longtime team leaders of SGs 2-5ish? They'd be insulted, right?

Or we could've gotten a nice Daniel Teal'c episode arc and then we could've had one Samantha Carter as team leader, though we won't get into that.

Bringing me to my next point. Co-leads?? Seriously?? You're trying too hard, folks. Telling me Sam used to know Mitchell does not actually make me like him.

Same thing with Landry. Unlike Mitchell, I guess I don't really have an opinion on Landry. He's just....there? No character development for this man.

Anyway, back to the team.

One of the things I love about SG1 is how the humor and friendship was so damn natural. Other than a few episodes (Urgo comes to mind), the plots weren't intentionally humorous. They were campy sci-fi plots sometimes, sure. They were funny because Jack was funny, yeah. They were lower budget than some other sci-fi. But they were as serious as sci-fi gets. It was how the characters reacted that made it funny.

Similarly, we were never told SG1 were found family. We just Knew. Because of the way they acted with each other. Because of the way Jack would "order" them to do things.

And hey, by the way, they weren't always family. Sam used to be less willing to ignore Jack. Daniel used to be less willing to trust Teal'c. Jack used to be a little more stern.

So...they meshed together. Like all found families do.

Every time I see a photo of new-look SG1 in seasons 9 and 10, I can't help but feel that they're trying too hard. I don't get the family feel because they aren't a family, damn it. It doesn't matter how many times you *tell* me they're super close. One of the reasons the original team got so close is because they all needed each other. Jack was depressed, Daniel was grieving, Sam was alone and had lost her mom and wasn't speaking with her dad and had never opened up to anyone in her life, Teal'c was an alien fighting for freedom after spending 100 years essentially as a slave.

And partly because of that, by season 9? Daniel and Teal'c (and Sam, when she comes back) don't need a family the way they used to. They have each other. They have Jack, or at least they *should*. *Glares in angry at Jack in DC vibes*

So...they simply don't have the relationship with Mitchell they do with each other.

It'd be different if Mitchell needed a family. It's not that SG1 hasn't added people before--I think Jonas is a perfect example of this. He wasn't Daniel, and that always hurt. But he was young, and naive, and innocent, and he needed SG1 because he'd left everything he'd ever known.

And that worked.

Without needing family, Mitchell is just a coworker. He can be a friendly coworker. A friend. But if he wanted to become better friends, family, he needed to show depth and vulnerability. He needed to need SG1.

And he never does, from what I've seen and heard about and read about. Or if he does need SG1, he doesn't need them badly enough to show more than an occasional bout of thoughtfulness before returning to his normal pale-Jack-imitation ways.

Now, I don't know why that is. I lean toward bad writing. I haven't watched Farscape (it's on my to watch list) but it seems like Ben Browder is a fine actor.

So, seasons 9 and 10 are probably fine TV. I'm never going to watch them through, so don't ask. I've tried and failed and every time it just tears my heart a little more and I'm won't be doing it again.

Those seasons...they just lost everything I watch SG-1 for, and so...yeah. I feel the hate strongly. Not because they're bad--I think they're different, not necessarily bad. My hate is only because in creating those seasons, they tore down the parts of SG1 that I loved most.

So s9-10 show me a few nice hugs and laughs? That's nice. I like comedies, I do. However...that's not my Stargate. Not the one I love. I liked the sarcastic one, the one full of wonder, the one where they had to scrape and claw their way through the galaxy with naivety and courage and brilliance. The one where they ate together, fought together, died together, were resurrected together.

It hurts, man. It hurts when the things I love turn into something that's lukewarm. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

That's why we have fanfic. And, with any luck, I'll actually start that AU I've been talking about.

It's fanfic, and so it'll be my Stargate. The ending I wanted--which really wasn't an ending at all, more of a closure of one chapter of the story.

Damn, did that turn dramatic. Um, sorry about that, and also sorry for spilling my feelings all over you guys. Thanks for reading, if you got to the end of this.