#any comment any freak out in the tags and any kudos or reblog or like gave me a little

[myownwholewildworld]

uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer

series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.

a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~4.6k.

tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie

“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.

You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.

The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.

You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.

You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.

That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.

Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.

The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.

“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.

Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.

However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.

“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.

When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.

You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.

“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.

You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.

“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.

His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.

Your mouth watered.

You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.

His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.

“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.

Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.

Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.

“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”

“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.

You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.

“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”

You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.

“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”

“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”

Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.

You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.

That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.

“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?

You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.

“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.

“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.

“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.

Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.

His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.

“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.

You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.

The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.

“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.

You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.

“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.

No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.

His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.

It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.

Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.

Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.

Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.

“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.

You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.

“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.

Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.

Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?

It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.

But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.

His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.

“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.

Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.

Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.

“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.

Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.

So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.

Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.

When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.

You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?

“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.

Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.

“But―”.

“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.

You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet fa��ade quickly toppling.

Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.

You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.

“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.

Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.

You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.

With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.

“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.

Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.

His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.

You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.

Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.

“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.

His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”

You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.

You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.

Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.

“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”

Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.

He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”

You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.

Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.

Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.

Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.

Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.

He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.

“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.

He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.

Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.

He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.

Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.

You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.

You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.

The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.

Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.

“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.

His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.

And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.

You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.

“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.

“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.

“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.

At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.

“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.

You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.

But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.

What had you done?

Well, you had gambled, and you lost.

But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.

[steddieas-shegoes]

the freak and the hair and lex

it's time for the weekly fic rec, where i give the top 3 (to me) fics by some of my favorite authors. please always check out their masterlists/works because these authors may have stuff you love even more than what i put here! as always, check tags before reading and leave kudos and comments and reblog whenever possible to support writers!

this week is @thefreakandthehair and let me tell ya, this was one of the hardest weeks to narrow it down to my top 3. i have gone back and forth on lex's works for three days trying to narrow it down (and also realized at some point i missed a few posts so i'm about to do a binge read oops). lex is so talented and does so many things for the fandom, so everyone go celebrate her gifts to us!

lex's tumblr | lex's ao3

rounding third, sliding home Rated E | wip/big bang fic The much anticipated big bang fic is in progress and it's SO GOOD. I don't even like baseball, but Lex is proof that I can and will like any situation these boys are in. Massage therapist Eddie!!! Hello!!! I don't have to go into detail to let you know how that's going. Favorite part: Honestly, since it's a wip, I don't wanna give one yet. But I will say that the overall premise of a massage therapist being able to do what trainers and doctors couldn't makes something really happy in my brain.

ice is made to melt (so is my heart) Rated M | 1,507 words It's hockey. I sniff out hockey fics like a hunting dog. I mean it's literally just hockey fan Eddie and I'm eating it up like I've been starving for years. Favorite part because these are possibly word for word things I have screamed at my television at the Bruins whomst I love with my entire heart but would beat with a hockey stick if given the chance: "Are your blades dipped in fucking butter?” “The puck goes in the net!” "You can't shoot for shit, just like you can't grow a decent mustache, huh?" “Your job is to use your big ass body to stop the teensy tiny puck from getting around you and that’s a Hell of a lot easier if you stay in the fucking crease!” 

Livin' On A Prayer  Rated E | 17,915 words It's the classic idiots in love but don't realize it even though they basically have been boyfriends the entire time trope and I cannot get enough. It's like a slow-fast burn in the sense that they're dumb, but this is still short enough to binge in one relatively quick go. Favorite part which is kinda a spoiler so: “And I know myself well enough to know that I would die before letting anything happen to you, especially after nearly losing you once already, so I felt like being here was safest. And I— I don’t mean the same way that I love the kids or Robin or really anyone else. I’d die for them too but that’s— that’s not my point. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I know this is one sided or whatever but I just, I’ve been wanting to tell you just to get it out of me because carrying this around alone for months and months has been wrecking me… I think I’m in love with you.”

[pastafossa]

how long did it take for your fanfiction to start getting some recognition? did you "advertise" it or "promote" it in any way?

i know that people say this doesn't matter, but i feel like even if you love writing the feeling that you're just talking to yourself gets pretty exhausting at some point. so i'm not talking about having thousands of readers but rather like. what's your advice to have readers at least?

- someone who hasn't even started writing their ideas yet...

LONG POST INCOMING.

First I want you (and everyone else reading who may be struggling with this) to know I'm absolutely with you and generally think 'it doesn't matter' is a horseshit answer. It's this weird thing we do in fanfic that we generally don't apply to other artforms that I've seen. If you're a painter, a playwriter, a novel writer, and you say, 'I want at least a few people to love my paintings, I want some people to come see my play, I want my novel to be published and do at least ok' we all support them, we nod, we agree, we talk about how they can do that successfully. It's considered normal to want some amount of success. But hold up fanfic instead and it becomes, 'how dare you want that praise, you're being egotistical, you should be writing only for yourself'. I'm not saying you can't do that - there are some who do - but it's definitely this bizarre switchup to say there's this single artform in which we can't want attention on our work and that there's something wrong with us if we do. That can be an absolute creativity killer depending on what kind of writer you are (hi, extrovert writer here who only gets writy writy juice from social interaction - aka comments and discussion. So I totally get it being exhausting just doing this on your own).

So let me say this categorically: you're allowed to want things. You're allowed to want kudos, comments, and hits. You're allowed to want messages and asks. You're allowed to want some readers you can talk with about your story.

You. Are. Allowed.

Ok, now that that's out of the way.

Edit: more below the cut cause I didn't realize the length of this on mobile

TRT definitely didn't get popular overnight. The first four chapters were sporadic, and then I took a hiatus due to life things for a couple years. During that time, it kept slowly ticking up bit by bit on AO3, with occasional comments. Iirc it was hovering somewhere around 700 kudos by the time I came back in Jan 2021 - and that's a awesome! It's big! But it's also a number that was gained over a few years, to put it in perspective. It absolutely took off after I came back though, and over the past 2 years both TRT's popularity and the stats of my one-shots in the fandom have grown. Part of that's just the time frame (TRT's been up about 6 years), but it's also due to a couple things that I think built up TRT's popularity.

Building a tumblr presence was huge. Ironically I didn't really intend to do it for advertising; I just wanted a place readers could ask questions or we could all freak out about Matt or I could post some drabbles or updates on the fic. But considering the fact that AO3 and tumblr are the top fic sites online, I wound up promoting my fics unintentionally just by being a friendly, happy tumblr user and fandom goer. All I did was follow the courtesy rules I knew - post stuff regularly, reblog, comment, make friends with other writers, just be friendly in your neighborhood because you love the lady with the gif flower shop on the corner or the wise old pizza maker who serves hot fandom takes all day long. I built familiarity with my writing and name by posting short fics, and by taking part in challenges and prompt lists and short requests for drabbles if I saw them, though that's something that's hard to do if you don't have time (I've got less time now, but I started this blog in the early pandemic so I had aaaaall the time in the world to write and was using it to stay sane). I tagged religiously because I LOVE tags, but that helped, too. Tumblr's search system is half broken but the half that works means people CAN find your writing even if they aren't following. Doing all this over here got me a huge boost over on AO3.

I will say that if you can have a fandom tiktok presence, there's a lot of fic reviewers, edits, and good stuff that can get your fic some readers (I've had some people do this on tiktok for TRT and it sent a surge over). I personally haven't done anything there yet, in part because while I'm on tiktok I try to keep my actual, real person accounts separate from my fic/fandom accounts and i haven't bothered to make a second account solely dedicated to the Pasta name yet.

Longfics on AO3 have the advantage in fic stats in the sense that every time you add a chapter, it gets bumped to the top of the front page and you get seen again. Eventually a lot of people will click out of curiosity. They may not, however, give you a lot of user subs or add to your other fic stats at first, whereas if you do a bunch of oneshots you're more likely to get user subs but less hits on each fic. This is a decision you'll have to make, and I know folks in both camps who built their followings using different methods on each. Either way, it helps if you're posting regularly, either in a long fic or one-shots. I call this the Stephen King method, who said he just writes a ton and throws it all at the wall, and eventually you get enough good despite the bad that you start building a following.

Learn learn learn. This is standard fic advice I always give, but it's still relevant. I think one of the reasons imo TRT has done so well is that I've spent a lot of time over the years learning how to write and edit - I read a ton of books (sometimes just to figure out HOW good authors structure their stories), I took a lot of English classes, I've taken some creative writing courses in my spare time. That two year hiatus was heavily spent doing a lot of research and practice around an original novel I want published one day. And I used ALL of that in TRT, just to see what it was like to put it all together. Be hungry for knowledge, be hungry to learn. The more you learn, the better your fic will be, and the more people that will click.

That learning also includes a looooong string of fanfics that started at a very novice level (hello 12 year old me), to fics that were ok and did moderately well but weren't anything huge. Hell, I had a tumblr account for my previous fandoms before I wandered over to Pastafossa, and while those fics did decently, I never had the huge reaction I've gotten here. But I used each and every one of those fics to learn and grow and adapt. Treat your own fics the same way. If it doesn't get hits, try to learn from it before moving on to the next idea a little wiser and a slightly better writer than before. There will always be people who start to follow you along the way.

A small one, but important: I swear to god, do not shit-talk yourself. Not in the summary, not in the tags, not in the A/Ns. I'm not talking, 'this is my first fic!' That's fine. I mean trashing your own work. Shit like, 'ha ha this sucks, it's terrible but oh well' will absolutely lower your stats, because people will believe you and will ditch your fic. On top of that, it's just mean to yourself, and as I said above, you want to be a good person in the fandom neighborhood. That means not breaking the windows of your own house.

People generally think of summaries as a side note, but a shitty summary can absolutely tank your stats. Treat it like the rest of your fic - this is the trailer before the movie, and it's a huge element of what gets people interested in the first place.

Lastly, like I said at the top, the biggest factor is time. There are people who post one fic and explode in popularity, absolutely. But far, far more little followings are built on the bones of time, of abandoned fics, of muttering and highlighting phrases in books in the middle of the night, of trying and trying and trying until we have at last have a breakthrough and then drag that breakthrough forward with us to the next fic. TRT is absolutely one part lightning in a bottle - the biggest success I've ever had anywhere with my writing, a confluence of fandom factors and world events that gave people (and me!) time to write and read. But it's also standing on the back of whole lot of fics I wrote that look like everyone else's: ones with no comments, low interaction, insults; ones where I had precisely zero idea of what I was doing, but wanted to try anyway. And the way I got through that, as a writer who needs interaction in order to create, was by building friendships in fandom so that even when a fic didn't do all that well, I still had friends I could talk to about the characters, the world, the fandom itself. I asked friends to look them over and give advice. I had friends being my cheerleaders. And if you're an extrovert like me, or just a writer who needs that to create, then those connections are vital as you build up a following.

That's a lot of what I've done. I know there are other ways to build a following, but this is generally what I've done, what I've learned to do, and it seems to have worked. Just remember that there are no bad fics - just learning opportunities. Learn something, and that fic's a success, and work as hard as you can to make those fandom connections to carry you through the process.

I absolutely hope to see your work around one day, so that I can be on of those followers!

[theeternalghost]

#Ok Im gonna say Something.#First of all SORRY to Op for reblogging this but NEVER READING IT!!!! Im Sorry I know that that's not how things are typcially done.#BUT LET ME SAY SOMETHING.#OK Im so sorry to OP for ranting in the tags of their 0 note fanfic that i wont even read but GIMME A MINUTE !! OK.#How do I say this.#I cant believe it was this long ago by now but it was I believe MAY of 2023 and it was 7 AM and i was scrolling on OP's blog?#And i was scrolling throuhg their fanficiton tag and i was like. Oh Dear. As you may expect#how do i put this... I DIDNT READ THIS STORY but I did skim what was written here and IT STUCK WITH ME ?#In truth i missed the breeding kink detail and went straight to reality-as-is rape. Over time I stopped thinking abt the trans detail even#BUT ANYWAY THIS ONE ... disturbed me of course ... AND IT MADE ME THINK...#IDK.... I just started thinking abt that ghoulish year they spent in the room of spirit & time ...#Vegeta's lack of loyalty to anything good & holy at this time... The conflict of their characters ...#I started listening to Rob Zombie at this time ...#Long story short I felt like the idea of an extreme violation occuring b/t them in that room was a DEEPLY FASCINATING story and#it showed a lot of facets of their realities & the realities of emotional and familial ... difficulties .#And. Idkkkk. It was so morbid. BUT THEN I ALSO GOT HUNG UP ON HOW FUNNY IT WAS THAT#IN DBS TRUNKS HAD TO SEE HIM AGAIN ??!??!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?#LIKE...... OMG ?!?!?!?! im sorryyyyy but it had me fist-pounding-on-desk LAUGHING like..#OK I should just make my own post. But ohmy god. LIKE IT'S SO BAD !??!? Vegeta's a changed man and sort of forgot abt all that.#BUT THE BODY KEEPS THE SCORE & TRUNKS IS TRYING TO BE COOL ABT IT BUT ... He's freaking out inside. Worrying for Present Trunks. Etc

#Eventually vegeta approches him abt it and ALL HE SAYS IS ''Hey. No hard feelings. Okay?'' AND SLAPS HIM ON THE BACK.#SOO SORRY OP LIKE THIS IS YOUR STORY THIS ISNT ABT ME...#But I always intended to reblog this post onto this blog bc it did INSPIRE something in me and i dont know much about the world but#I do respect OP for the weird things they write & post. AND IT MAKES ME SAD THAT THIS POST STILL HAS 0 NOTES?#I saw it 7 months ago and in that time no one has read it or hit like. SAD. I am sorry for not reading it myself but#Just the strange way I feel reading the description is thrill enough for me thank you ...#I always thought that I would post some about Vegeta & Future Trunks on this blog and IDK if I ever will but#This post needs to be reblogged onto this blog for in case I do ...#Reblog#Writing

NOBODY HAS EVER GOT IT LIKE THIS. YOU. YOU GET IT. and my god I hope you do write a thing someday PLEASE tag me if you do!!!

cause you are right, in the grand scheme of things the implications and ramifications are SO dark and morbid and awful because of who Vegeta was at the time of their year in the chamber? it's incredible that Trunks retained any affection or admiration for Vegeta after that. and then Vegeta of DBS era is a drastically different person?? I'm not sure Future! Trunks could even fathom it. So he keeps half an eye on Vegeta and half an eye on his younger self and tries not to shy away from his not-father.

also don't be sad for me about not having notes. with the kind of subject matter i usually write about, i'm used to it. i get a LOT of hits, bookmarks, and kudos on ao3 but rarely any comments or reblogs. and from past experiences in other fandoms, it's 100% because people don't want to be perceived consuming the kind of fic i write.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Ball Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1006 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Future Trunks Briefs/Vegeta Characters: Future Trunks Briefs, Vegeta (Dragon Ball) Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mild Breeding Kink, Parent/Child Incest, Trans Character, Loss of Virginity Summary:

The strong hand in his hair fists it tighter, yanking his head back far enough that all he can see is the empty white of the chamber.

[wigglebox]

2020 Writing Review

Married ChristmasIt’s the final week of 2020 if you can believe it! I did a post like this last year where I listed all the things I had written throughout the year. 

This year, sadly, will be a little smaller than 2019. The pandemic took hold of my writing muse in March and didn’t let it breathe until the end of June, and even then, it had been a struggle until recently. The pandemic took a toll on my mental health, and there were months where I didn’t write anything (between Someone, Somewhere and Brighter is from May to October). You’ll notice there is no coda fic for episodes 12 and 13 and that was because that’s when COVID-19 panic really struck in my area of the country, and I was unable to write them (though they will be written soon).

Despite it all, by the end of June, we took a week-long trip to a beach house, a beach house I know and love, since we couldn’t go to our usual spot in Ogunquit, Maine. It was a responsible vacation with no one with us, not around anyone at all, and only going on the beach in the very early morning and after suppertime when no one was there. 

That’s when I started to write my DCBB, ‘Victory’. I wrote 30k during that week and it was like I could finally breathe fresh air again. 

It was still a struggle to finish that DCBB, and I thank @cuddlemonsterdean and @malallory​ for their help with that. And with my Pinefest as well! But when you’re living at your mother’s house with a new puppy and no where to write, I’m surprised I got ‘Victory’ out at all. 

So here are some links to the things I wrote this year. It’s not a long list, but I’m hoping 2021 will be fruitful and full of creative energy. I’m finally living on my own again with my writing desk, my white board, and my lo-fi music!

For a preview of 2021, I am going to be working on a lot of fics related to a post-finale world I’m creating based off of things I wanted to see. That will wind up being its own post. I’m excited to get writing in 2021! <3 

You can subscribe to my AO3 here if you wanted email notifications of fics

And A Happy New Year

[Started in 2019 but led into 2020] 

Summary: Is it possible to thank a cursed, constantly breaking car for your relationship? What started as a mutual, hidden crush between Cas and Dean ends up being a first date and kiss just in time for Christmas. But, are they on the same page, and will the holiday magic last?

Details: Rated E | Words: 26,682 | Chapters: 3/3 | Tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, First Kiss, Secret Crush, Christmas Fluff, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Snowed In, Self-Doubt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Car Accidents, Frottage, Light Dom/sub, Miscommunication, Anxiety Attacks, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Happy Ending, Military Families, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage Mention

A Sound of Thunder

Summary: 15x09 ‘The Trap’ Coda | A horrible ending, a good ending, and a hesitant beginning.

Details: Rated: M | Words: 8,121 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, Insanity, Claustrophobia, Pining, Buried Alive, I Love You, Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Purgatory, Self-Hatred, Self-Doubt, Coda

2029

Summary: Dean turns 50 but he's not feeling festive due a self-described "mid-life crisis"

Details: Rated: T |  Words: 1,681 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Birthday, Existential Crisis, Canon Compliant, Death, Talking About Death, Communication, No Smut, Implied Sexual Content

Clarity

Summary: 15x10 ‘The Heroes’ Journey’ Coda | Cas's trip to Heaven was very much needed, but not for the reasons he told Dean and Sam.

Details: Rated: T | Words: 2,841 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Purgatory, Pining, Leviathans, Self-Reflection, Lies, Heaven, Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Prayer

Shibboleth

Summary: 15x11 ‘The Gamblers’ Coda | Having Jack back doesn't fix everything or make everything suddenly okay, but it can keep everyone moving forward until it is.

Details: Rated: T | Words: 1,536 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Anxiety, Pining, Having Faith, Trust Issues

Que Sera, Sera

Summary: A few months into his new human life, Cas comes down with a fever and cough. Usually, that wouldn't be a concern, but now there's a contagious, new illness spreading across the country, and the anxiety that comes along with it.

Details: Rated: G | Words: 4,359 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Part of ‘Lockdown Fest’ Sickfic, Sick Character, Sick Castiel (Supernatural), Covid-19 Related, Pandemics, Happy Ending, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Anxiety, self-quarantine

Someone, Somewhere

Summary: Pinefest 2020 | When Cas is plucked from his and Dean's comfy life in New York to serve his country, their relationship gets put to the test. Trying over the course of the year to keep their love strong through letter-writing, things hit a breaking point when Allied forces launch the largest seaborne invasion in history. The letters soon become a roadmap in rediscovering themselves and each other.

Details: Rated: E | Words: 64,251 | Chapters:9/9 | Tags: Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - World War II, Love Letters, Unprotected Sex, Infidelity, Consensual Somnophilia, Public Sex, Memory Loss, Aphasia, Dirty Pictures, Dirty Talk, Internalized Homophobia, Hate Crimes, Disability, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Slurs, Period-Typical Racism, Suicidal Thoughts, Anxiety, Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Drunk Sex, New York City, Night Terrors, deancaspinefest, Homophobia

Brighter

Summary: 15x14 ‘Last Holiday’ Coda | “We often confuse what we wish for with what is.” ― Neil Gaiman, MirrorMask

Details: Rated: T | Words: 3,831 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Birthday, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Canon Compliant, Pining, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Sam Winchester

Aperture

Summary: 15x15 ‘Gimmie Shelter’ Coda | How the hell did Cas get a photo of himself in a damn cowboy hat?

Details: Rated: T | Words: 1,754 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags:  Major Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Character Death, but it's okay because he's alive again, Canon Compliant

Movement

Summary: 15x16 ‘Drag Me Away (From You)’ Coda | It's a familiar situation, a painful one, but Dean knows his place and knows his role, and knows better than to hope for anything different.

Details: Rated: T | Words: 687 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Internal Conflict, Angst and Feels, Self-Esteem Issues, Pining

Separate Ways

Summary: 15x17 ‘Unity’ Coda | Millions of missed chances; Millions of different choices; Millions of ways they came so, so close.

Details: Rated: T | Words: 2,663 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Major Character Death, Alternate Universe, Heaven & Hell, Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Missed Opportunities, Demon Dean Winchester but not the one from season 10

red

Summary: 15x18 ‘Despair’ Coda | "There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love." — Washington Irving

Details: Rated: T | Words: 1,043 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Major Character Death,  Grief/Mourning, POV Second Person, Pining

Victory

Summary: Dean/Cas Big Bang 2020 | Life has a certain way in Worthington. For Dean Winchester, the last of his family to remain in town, it includes trying to rile up the head of a rival, affluent, and powerful family: The Charlestons. Things were bleak until Dean accidentally stumbles across a captivating member of the Charlestons he had never met before. Castiel has returned home after a miserably failed attempt at becoming a priest post-college. He’s instantly thrown back in the strong grip of his family’s politics but meets a young man in town that shows Cas the door that would help him escape his harsh life.

They want each other, they want a happy ending, but will past histories and family demands threaten that dream, or can they push through the noise for the sake of love?

Details: Rated: E | Words: 81,786 | Chapters:21/21 | Tags: Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Arranged Marriage, Gun Violence, First Time, First Kiss, Religion, Religious Content, Religious Guilt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Discovery, First Time Blow Jobs, Public Blow Jobs, Frottage, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Teasing, I Love You, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Physical Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Dean/Cas Big Bang 2020 (Supernatural), Suicide Discussion, Unprotected Sex

After the War

Summary: “If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever.” A.A. Milne | “So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.” — E.A. Bucchianeri

Details: Rated: T | Words: 1,304 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Major Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Married Christmas

Summary: Time has passed since the dust settled and everything had been put "right". Things once seen as impossible in Dean's eyes is now tangible to him. All it needs is a wedding band and the promise of a future full of love and happiness.

Details: Rated: T | Words:14,028 | Chapters:4/4 | Tags: Wedding Rings, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Miscommunication, Idiots in Love, Sex(but not graphic), Canon Compliant, Headcanon1, 5x20 doesn't exist, Post-Finale, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Jack Kline

Welcome Home

Summary: Destiel Secret Santa Exchange 2020 | Dean and Cas take a special trip up to the mountains for their first Christmas together. Dean hopes they'll be many more to celebrate in the future together.

Details: Rated: T | Words: 3,717 | Chapters:1/1 | Tags: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Dorks in Love

[crymeariveronceagain]

Okay, so, I missed the prompt for yesterday but I still want to do it. Sooo. Here we goo.

What Kotlc means to me

There's something kind of special about how I got here, in a really strange way. There's something special about it. Being 15 and trying to read every single book in the library. Picking up a book because I need somewhere else to go, someone else's life to live. Reading the entire series through Nightfall in 3 days.

I never looked back, to be honest? I had huge opinions and my cousin had read the books and another friend of mine has also read the books so I talked about it with them, and the Flashback came out and I read it and got so annoyed with Fitz and Alden. Like, literally. Part of my love and attachment to this series was born from my distinct hatred of specific characters.

And I'd never been one to write fanfic. My mom had thoroughly pounded it into my head that fanfic wasn't real writing, and that I should be doing more real things with my work. I guess, with kotlc? I decided that didn't matter?

Who cares if it's not real writing, I enjoy it deeply and I loved sharing it with other people? It brought so much joy to me when I was able to capture the voices of Keefe and Sophie in Walk Through Hell. I remember sitting there and thinking "This sounds like something Shannon would write".

And I remember recommending the books to everyone. My then-boyfriend took me up on reading it, and fell in love with it, too, and I think that was the only time he ever liked my writing, when I sent him the Google doc for Walk Through Hell.

I was a Pinterest fan for a long while, and Tumblr posts in the making lurk in the comments sections of the kotlc pins. I went on mini rants about how Keefe and Sophie and even Fitz, even though I changed my tune about him after a while of character analysis. But nobody really interacts on Pinterest. Comments get likes or maybe a comment back, but it's not a social media. It's just media. No social. Like YouTube.

So like, in a really dark part of my life, I started posting stuff to AO3. And it just opened up this world where I could write and discuss my thoughts through my writing? If I had something to say I could say it, even if it was writing a fanfic about it and posting it, qnd people would see it! People would comment, or leave kudos!! It was insane.

And, eventually, I joined Tumblr.

You would not believe how freaked out I was the first time @hunkyhair-my-beloved interacted with one of my posts. Like. Holy crap. You guys don't understand how much of my Pinterest collection of kotlc stuff was their incorrect quotes. Like, not even kidding. I literally felt like I was interacting with a celebrity.

So, I guess.

Kotlc is writing stories. Kotlc is getting mad at characters and writing a 6k dissertation on why they're awful, or a 10k thesis about why they're misunderstood. Kotlc is reading the tags of the people who reblog stuff from me. Kotlc is rolling my eyes at @fintan-pyren. Kotlc is giggling at incorrect quotes and crying when I think about songs that fit Keefe's character. Kotlc is sharing my stupid media analysis with people who actually love hearing it, and enjoy my nonsense enough to stick around and come back for more.

Like, I look back on it now and I'm like, ah, yes. I coped with my spiraling life by writing about Linh Song in a similar situation to me. I wrote about Sophie to understand myself. I wrote about Keefe to get inside my own head and understand the pieces of my own broken heart. Yada yada yada.

At the time, I wasn't thinking about any of that. I was just doing something fun.

Kotlc for me is being up at 1 in the morning writing so that I finish the next chapter. It's grinning at AO3 comments and laughing with you crazies. Kotlc is just.... Fun. Kotlc is so much fun.

As much as I can get worked up over the ways I think canon is lacking, stars.

Kotlc means a whole lot to me.

[jimalim]

wow it’s actually really depressing to see that out of the 30 fics I’ve written for The Wilds/Leatin, my longest (45k) fic-the one I spent THE MOST time writing, the one that’s my absolute favorite piece of writing I’ve ever done...has the least amount of kudos at a lowly 70

this is why I have a really hard time finding the motivation to write. when I spent nearly 6 months planning and writing what I think is the strongest thing I’ve ever written with a very fun and rewarding plot for those who read the whole thing (it’s a freaking choose your own adventure fic! You get 4 whole ass stories in one!) and it only has 70 kudos after being up for almost 2 months

this lack of engagement is what makes content creators inevitably stop making things, at some point the disappointment isn’t worth it, and the ‘do it for yourself’ mentality isn’t enough. and now that tumblrs tag feature is broken (hopefully temporarily) this only discourages people more. reblog culture is absolutely abysmal these days and with the tags being broken, it’ll only get worse.

I know I probably sound like I’m whining any time I complain about this, but it really is an issue not enough people take seriously. everyone’s all for reblogging posts about how we need to support creators-but how often does that actually translate to a change in the way people consume this media? basically if you like something, SHARE it! COMMENT on it! let creators know you appreciate the work they do FOR FREE! it’t the absolute LEAST you can do

[usagi-mitsu]

A heartfelt plea from a small content creator:

Please like. Please reblogg. Please comment.

Whenever you find written or drawn or photographed art that even mildly intriues you.

That's it. You actually don't have to look beneath the cut, but I wrote it anyways.

This might be different for everybody, but from time to time I feel heartbroken about my own writing and art. And right now it's one of these times.

It's currently the second day of FFXIVwrite2021. What happened to dampen my excitement about it is "the usual": I am excited to participate, write my piece and post it. And then I sit there, checking out, liking and commenting on other peoples entries, while refreshing my notifications again and again. And once more for good measure. Waiting for someone to have a look at my piece. For someone to leave a like or a kudos. For something. Anything.

And those few notes excite me beyond meassure! But in the time that it took my piece to get five likes, others have been liked and/or reblogged tenfold.

That's when I get sad. Is my piece that bad? Is it my English - is it not good enough? Have I missed the point? Is it too niche for anyone to be interested? Or did I simply write something boring? Something heinous? Something so bad it's not worth other peoples time?

It's then when I try to keep on reminding myself about why I write: I write mostly for my own amusement and to read the stories which I would want to read. But if those are the only reasons, I didn't have to publish anything I wrote, right? Exactly. And another reasonn write is, that I want to give people something fun. Something interesting. Something that helps them keep their minds off of whatever bothers them for maybe just ten minutes. And of course I publish my writing because I want to know if other people like it - validation.

So while my intrinsical motivation is strong, not getting said validation in any shape or form; or even getting far less then my peers makes me rather sad. Because I am always hoping that I write something enjoyable. But if people don't tell me it's enjoyable, how would I know I did right?

And I am so tired of asking my friends to have a look at my writing. Seriously. Most of the guys are like "nice, can we start the trial now?" and the girls sometimes forget that they wanted to read it or ignore it entirely. That actually hurts even more. A few weeks ago, a friend of mine actually asked me to write something for them. Specifically for them. They haven't even touched it as far as I'm aware. And even though I know why that is, it freaking hurts. Because I made it for them. And I don't even know if they like it. They probably will. But hearing it from their mouth or reading it in their chat is the only way to know.

And before you ask, "so what are you contributing to other peoples stories" - I am the one leaving you site long comments on every chapter of your romance fanfiction. If I find something even mildly interesting, I'll reblogg and like. And if I love it, I'll write something in the tags. I have written two comments on AO3, where I had to shorten the content because I ran out of letters to use. FFS - I know how it feels to get these comments and how it feels to suddenly get that one notification that has tags and a like and stuff. I do it because I want people to know, their art is amazing. And because I know how it feels. And maybe even a bit because I hope one day someone will do the same with my art.

I doubt more than three people have read this far. So to you who has gone on this journey with me: Kudos! May the writing gods bless you with creativity and amazing, vocal readers who soak up your every written word.

Thank you for reading. I had to get this off of my chest. This topic sometimes just... well. It hurts. Especially in times likes this. And I just don't feel like I can talk to anybody about this. I know I can, but I am also VERY tired of people telling me it's ok to feel like this. Like. Stop telling me this. Go read my last piece and leave comment. That actually helps more in the long term. ;)

Anyways. There is a new prompt and I have stuff to write.

Good luck! <3

[januarium]

2020 Creator Tag Meme

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

Thanks so much to all the lovely people who tagged me! @danieljradcliffe @yourbuttervoicedbeau @wild-aloof-rebel @justwaiting23 @redwineandqueer @alamborghini @petrodobreva @middyblue @theswiftiewholived You are WONDERS!

1. If I Had $1,000,000 — It hasn’t got the response other stuff I have done has, but I am so very proud of my first ever (and only) fanvid, following the Roses story! Plus, if I hadn’t gone to a fanvid con online this year and met the person who brought me into my SC fandom home (as well as being inspired to make this) I don’t know that I’d have written a word of that fic.

2. Wrong Number At The Right Time — I cannot express how much I didn’t think I was a person who could finish a piece of fiction this long! Before June this year I hadn’t written any fiction in about five years, when I started this in July I didn’t expect it to get nearly this long. I am very fond of this story and it means a lot to me. (also it is so close to 500 kudos and that is WILD omg)

3. Home At Last — I am SO proud of myself for this one. In many ways it is out of my comfort zone, and I really just... love this story I told for Stevie a lot. And showed myself that I can write for a fest deadline and not freak out and flake.

4. Molten Glass Hearts — Part of me wants to be all unpredictable and not just go for the long fics, but LBR here, they’re what took the most time and effort! And srsly, imagine my surprise when I managed a fic 50% longer than WNatRT! This fic alone is nearly more words than I’d managed in the decade prior to June this year! I threw so many things into a bag and shook them up and I’m so glad other people enjoyed it, too.

5. Schitt’s Creek Gif Advent — ACK okay I do have another long fic that it hurts not to include, but I’m choosing this because I also hadn’t made gifs in years, and to take on and complete a project like this was so great. Huge thanks to the friends who encouraged me with it!

I am tagging @roguebebe and also anyone else who wants to do it who hasn’t been tagged. Which is a total cop-out, you’re welcome.

An ENORMOUS thank you to all the incredible people who have made me feel at home in this fandom and encouraged my creativity. Everyone I spoke to, everyone whose words or art I’ve enjoyed, everyone who has left a kudos or comment on my fic, or liked or reblogged my gifs, I appreciate you. You cannot know how much it means to me.

[sesamestreep]

stack the deck with wild cards (chapter 4)

(Read on AO3)

(start from the beginning)

SUMMARY: Jyn gets some much needed tough love from the band. She also gets soup. 

A/N: Here’s a shorter chapter to break up the other, more dramatic chapters. A palate cleanser, if you will. An amuse bouche, if I may. Fewer warnings needed on this one, I feel like, since it’s mostly about the power of friendship, but there’s still some talk of pregnancy and abortion here as well. Follow the AO3 link for more detailed tags. If you’ve liked/commented/kudos-ed/reblogged anything from this series so far, I really appreciate it and I wish I could make you all some soup because you deserve it.

“So,” Chirrut says, clapping his hands together and officially bringing their meeting to order, “how has everyone’s week been so far?”

As Jyn expected, Baze and Bodhi immediately turn their attention to her, since they clearly all discussed this beforehand and planned to gang up on her.

“I hate all of you,” she says, picking up Baze and Chirrut’s cat from the floor where she’s been weaving between everyone’s ankles and dropping her onto her lap. The cat immediately curls up over Jyn’s stomach, despite the fact that she’s not visibly pregnant at all, and Baze hums thoughtfully, which makes Jyn scowl. “Shut up,” she adds, without much heat.

“I didn’t say anything,” Baze says with an exaggerated shrug.

“I can hear what you’re thinking.”

“You’re starting to sound like him,” he replies, cocking his head towards Chirrut, who smiles broadly in response.

“We’re anxious to know how you’re doing,” Chirrut says.

“Oh, I’m sure Bodhi’s already told you everything,” Jyn says, shooting a glare in Bodhi’s direction.

“I’ve told them everything I know,” he replies easily. “Which is not the same as, well, everything .”

“I told you how my conversation with Cassian went, which is what I assume you all care about, so you should be caught up.”

“Okay, first of all, that was like...four days ago,” Bodhi says, counting off on his fingers. “And secondly, I asked how your conversation with Cassian went and you said ‘fine’ and then ignored my texts for two days!”

“Well, I—”

“And thirdly , that is not ‘all we care about’! We love you, we want to know how you’re doing!”

Jyn flings her head back on the couch petulantly, only giving up on her sulk when she feels Baze’s hand on her shoulder. He gives it a gentle squeeze, but when she turns towards him, he’s giving her a stern look.

“He’s right, you know,” he says, solemnly.

“Ugh, fine,” she says, sitting up and mildly annoying the cat that’s still curled in her lap. She scratches her behind the ears to make up for it. “What do you want to know?”

“How are you feeling?” Chirrut asks.

“Fine,” Jyn answers with a shrug, and then sees Bodhi’s unimpressed look and decides to elaborate. “I’ve been a little moody, I guess.”

“No, he means since you’ve been pregnant,” Bodhi says, laughing, and Jyn swats him.

“Asshole,” she replies, but there’s no heat to it. “I’ve been moodier . How’s that?”

“Much better, thank you.”

Jyn hums, considering what else to add. “I haven’t had much of an appetite. Also, I've been sleeping like crap, but that’s probably stress over the appointment.”

“That’s Friday, right?” Baze asks, before taking a sip of his tea.

She nods. “Bodhi’s going with me, so no one has to worry.”

“We’ll worry anyway, just to be safe,” Chirrut says cheerfully, which makes Baze hide his smile in his mug. “How did Cassian take the news?”

“Why don’t you ask Bodhi?” Jyn says with an eye roll. “He’s the one who told him.”

Bodhi scowls at that. “In my defense, he came back to our apartment from dinner with you looking thoughtful, and I knew you’d been trying to tell him, so I just assumed he already knew! How was I supposed to know you chickened out and abandoned him at the restaurant?”

Jyn thinks about swatting at him again, but she’s fairly certain that Baze and Chirrut’s cat would not take it too kindly if she jostles her one more time.

“You left him at the restaurant?” Baze asks, alarmed.

“No, I—okay, so, technically, I did, but it was…it's complicated!” When that doesn’t seem to pacify anyone, she adds, “he was being cute to a baby at the next table and I freaked out and left, okay? Bodhi still shouldn’t have told him.”

“I thought he knew already,” Bodhi cries. “You didn’t see his face! He looked very confused! I was trying to offer my support!”

“That’s just Cassian’s face!”

“Maybe around you, it is.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Bodhi looks heavenward for a moment, as if praying for the patience to deal with her. “I just mean that...I think maybe Cassian doesn’t know how to read you. Not the way we do.”

Jyn looks around at the others, whose facial expressions give away nothing, except that they’re listening intently. “Well,” she says, “that makes sense, I guess. He doesn’t know me as well as you do.”

“No,” Baze says, carefully. “But I think he’d like to.”

She can’t do anything in response to that except blink at him in confusion. “What?” She finally asks, after what feels like several minutes.

“I think he likes you, Jyn,” Bodhi says, far too gently. “I think he was really happy you asked him to dinner the other night and he was disappointed when you left without explaining.”

“He knows now,” she interjects. “I explained what happened when he came over later.”

“I know, I just think...he wanted you to call him for another reason.”

“Yeah, well, so did I,” Jyn says, petulantly. “It’s not like I wanted to be pregnant.”

“That’s not really what I meant,” Bodhi says, and his tone is lightly chiding, which just makes her pout more. “I meant that I was a little surprised he came home from your place at all that night.”

“What, did you think I was gonna axe murder him?”

He frowns at her. “No, dummy, I thought he was going to tell you how he felt!”

“‘How he felt’??” Jyn repeats. “What does that mean?”

“I give up,” Bodhi says, throwing his hands up.

“I just don’t understand!”

“Listen,” Chirrut says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “We know it’s been a rough few months for you. The breakup was terrible and with Saw’s health getting worse and now being pregnant, this can’t be an easy situation for you to deal with. But surely, even with all of that going on, you must see that Cassian has feelings for you.”

Jyn laughs before she can’t stop herself, but no one else joins her. They don’t even crack a smile, they just keep looking at her with concern. “That’s not true,” she says, with more confidence than she feels. “Don’t joke about that.”

“He’s not joking,” Baze says. “It’s true.”

“Cassian told you that?”

“He didn’t have to. It’s obvious from the way he looks at you.”

“And from the way he talks about you,” Bodhi adds. “He’s seriously asked about you a hundred times this week alone.”

“Well, that’s because he’s worried,” Jyn says. “Because I’m pregnant and he feels bad. Not because he likes me. And if he looks at me in any sort of special way, it’s because he feels bad for me. Because of the breakup and everything.”

“Oh, I get it,” Bodhi says, nodding in a way that feels sarcastic somehow. “He only had sex with you out of pity.”

“Yeah,” she replies, half heartedly. “That’s gotta be it.”

“Bullshit,” he fires back. “He’s had a thing for you since he met you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jyn practically shouts. “I—I had a boyfriend when he met me.”

That remark earns her an eye roll. “Yeah, and no one’s ever had a thing for someone they couldn’t have before.”

“So, what? You think he was just waiting around for me and Reece to break up so he could have a shot with me?”

“Of course not! But I don’t think he was miserable to hear that it had finally happened.”

“If he was so excited for me to be single, why did I have to make the first move? Why didn’t he call me afterwards? Why didn’t he say anything about wanting to date me at any point in the last few months?”

The guys are quiet once she’s finished, but not in a way that makes her feel like she’s stumped them. Rather, it feels like they can’t decide who’s going to tell her she’s wrong first.

“Like we said,” Chirrut finally pipes up, “he doesn’t know you as well as we do. Maybe he doubts your feelings for him.”

“My feelings?” Jyn asks, flabbergasted. “For him? I don’t...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Jyn,” Bodhi says, rolling his eyes. “You wouldn’t have slept with him in the first place if you didn’t have feelings for him.”

“I know this is hard for you to believe, since you’re some sort of Disney prince when it comes to relationships, but sometimes people just have sex because they’re horny and they feel like it,” she snaps.

He has the audacity to shrug in response. “Sure, but that’s not why you did it.”

“Oh, right! Because you know how I feel better than I do! How could I have forgotten?”

“Normally, I would never presume to tell someone else how they feel,” Bodhi says, putting his hand to his heart and everything, “but, in this one particular case, and just because you’re so terrible with emotions, I’m telling you: you like him too. Trust me.”

“I am not terrible with emotions,” she scoffs.

“Well…you’re not great with them either,” Chirrut says, with a shrug.

“Okay, fine! Let’s say you’re all right; I do have feelings for Cassian. What good does it do me? I already slept with him, made him feel like a rebound, didn’t call him for two months afterwards, and then bulldozed my way back into his life by telling him I’m pregnant. What sort of guy would still be interested in me after all that?”

“Cassian would,” Bodhi says simply, as if she’s the dumbest human being in the universe. “As long as it’s you, he’ll still be interested.”

Jyn closes her eyes, because now would be a stupid time to cry, especially since she’s trying to convince them she doesn’t care about Cassian and crying over someone is a textbook example of caring about them. She can’t even think about what they’re saying, because she isn’t allowed to think about Cassian like that. She’s attracted to him, sure, but sleeping with him was supposed to get it out of her system. And it should have. The only reason sleeping with him wouldn’t have helped is if they’re right and she does actually have feelings for him. And that would really suck, because there’s absolutely no way he feels the same way about her; not after everything she’s put him through.

“If I agree to take everything you’ve said tonight under advisement,” Jyn says carefully, without opening her eyes, “can we please talk about something else right now?”

Baze puts his hand on her shoulder again, which makes her look over at him. “Of course,” he says, and she smiles at him weakly in response.

An hour or so later, she and Bodhi shuffle out of Baze and Chirrut’s apartment to head home for the night, without so much as a moment’s rehearsal on anyone’s part, despite that being the actual reason they supposedly got together tonight. Once they’re out in the night air, Bodhi claps his mittened hands together to ward off the cold and they head for the subway together.

“I can’t believe those bozos made me soup,” Jyn says, perching her chin on the top of the tupperware that Baze had shoved into her hands before she left, on the grounds that she wouldn’t want to make dinner for herself on Friday after her appointment and so he and Chirrut had made something for her to take home so she wouldn’t starve. It had been another close call for her almost crying.

“Well, they love you,” Bodhi says, slightly muffled because he’s buried his chin in his scarf. “And so do I. We just want you to be happy.”

“I know that.”

“I’m sorry if I was a little hard on you earlier.”

Jyn wants to wave his apology away, but she’s a little worried about dropping the container she’s holding, so she just shakes her head instead. “You weren’t.”

Bodhi looks down at his feet as he walks. “I was, a little. I just get so frustrated when you talk like you don’t deserve nice things.”

“I never said that.”

“Not directly, but,” he pauses, clearly searching for the right words, “I watched the way things ended with you and Reece, and you were mad at him, sure, but a lot of the time, the way you talked, it was like you were mad at yourself. Like, you thought you deserved what he did to you, and if you’d been a better girlfriend or a better person, you could have stopped it from happening. And that’s bullshit.”

Jyn stops short, right there on the sidewalk. “I don’t think that,” she says, but it’s a faint protest. She knows she’s had that thought before, more than once, and she’s sure she got drunk enough at some point to even say it to Bodhi.

Luckily for her, he doesn’t cite his sources with a drunken text from her or anything like that. He just looks at her, with obvious concern, and says, “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right. Someone who’s never going to make you doubt how they feel.”

“And you think Cassian is that person for me?” she asks, trying to sound incredulous.

“I don’t know,” Bodhi says, shrugging helplessly. “But you don’t know either, and you won’t ever know unless you give him a chance.”

Jyn starts walking again while she processes that and he follows her lead. When he’s caught up with her, she moves in close to elbow him in the ribs.

“Being in love with Taidu has really made you into a hopeless romantic,” she teases.

“I’ve always been a hopeless romantic,” he grumbles, making her laugh. “But now I speak from experience.”

She smiles at that, holding her tupperware of soup close to her chest. “What you said before,” she says, quietly, “were you serious? Cassian really asks about me?”

“All the time,” Bodhi says, smiling. “He knows I was meeting you tonight, so I bet he’ll ask about you within the first five minutes I’m home.”

Jyn rolls her eyes at that, but the idea of it thrills her, making her cheeks warm even in the cold night air. “I’m sure he won’t,” she says, faintly, because there’s a foolish part of her that really wants Bodhi to be right.

“I’m serious,” he replies. “I’d put money on it.”

“Well, so would I.”

Bodhi sticks out a hand for her to shake, which she readily accepts, once she’s switched her soup to the other hand. “It’s a deal, then?” He asks.

She laughs. “Deal.”

It’s only later, once they’ve parted ways at the subway station and she’s made her way back to her apartment, that her phone buzzes with a new text: You owe me five bucks . Jyn allows herself a stupid, giddy smile at Bodhi’s message, since she’s alone in her own home and no one can judge her for it.

[shipping-receiving]

JB Fav Fics

Ages ago, I reblogged @chickren​‘s post (from 2013!) and I promised to give it a shot but got all tied up with my dissertation and my own fic. Now that my dissertation is done, I HAVE COMPLETED THIS. Bear in mind these answers might be a bit ‘dated’ as well (by a few months) because I’ve not been reading much fic on my end. Turns out when I’m writing my own, I can only hold one version of J/B in my head. 

Anyway this list is LONG AND TOOK ME FOREVER and I also wrote comments because I can’t help myself. So everything is under the cut. I took out the Shuffled Challenge one (very 2013 lol) and I replaced it with a category called... favourite S8 fix-it. Can you believe it? After I made all this noise about not being able to read fix-its?

[J/B Fic Recs: Master Post if anyone needs it before we start things off]

Favourite fic set immediately after ADWD Second to fucking none: Honor Thy Regard by SigilBroken Nights Without Armor by bratanimus

Favourite fic set a long time after ADWD Oh. Salt Wife by Lady_in_Red. Breathtaking simplicity.

Favourite TV canon fic Pretty and Traveling Far by astolat A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf

Favourite S8 fix-it Yes, I know. I can’t deal with fix-its. And yet. Ice by Gwen77 Ring Them Bells by kirazi Battle is the Great Redeemer by Lady_In_Red

Favourite modern AU Clean hands by you-know-who (... it’s Gwen77) + all the classics:  Fever by Lady_In_Red On the Night’s Watch by Miss_M It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken And of course our recent fandom favourite: two halves of a soul by angel_deux

Favourite kiss (Don’t specify chapter) Okay this is kind of a random one but I remember re-reading Roommate Wanted by JustAGirl24 a couple months back, and when they finally kissed I wanted to freaking throw my phone across the room. It’s not even described in detail, it was just such a perfectly timed OMFG!!! THEY KISSED! moment.

Favourite smut Anything by Miss_M, good lord. My all-time favourite is Golden and True (modern AU, sequel to Ball and Chain), but for canon!verse it has to be Heart’s Desire and Spring Awakening. And obviously I have to say Flawed by francoeurs – smut exploring J/B’s Issues with a capital I? I’m THERE.

And for multi-chapter fic, Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria is fire. Oh and also, everyone’s favourite professor AU, Stacked by QuizzicalQuinnia.

Favourite UST On the Night’s Watch and Someone to Watch Over Me by Miss_M. I love that these two fics take place over such a short time (a few days) but they manage to feel like slow burns. That’s fucking skill right there.

Best written fic I hate this question. You want me to pick the best-written fic out of the FIVE THOUSAND J/B FICS ON AO3? Lmao I’m skipping.

Favourite fic with an unusual premise Multiverse central: All the Roads are Winding by ShirleyAnn66 In which Brienne can turn into a sea lion: This Is Your Wilderness by hardlyfatal GENDER SWAP: all knights are gallant and all maids are beautiful by janie_tangerine Jaime is a sculptor: Madonna of the Balcony by QuizzicalQuinnia Jaime does needlework: Hold This Threadbare Heart at Needlepoint by nire

Favourite action scene Words by astolat. The entire battle sequence.

Favourite dialogue Clean hands by Gwen77, Chapter 9. So cathartic, and SO MUCH HAPPENING. Not just J/B but Tyrion and Cersei on the phone too. I mean I just tried to re-read it to pick an excerpt (I can’t) and I already started crying lmao

Favourite characterization of Jaime A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf. THE NUANCE. THE DETAIL.

Favourite characterization of Brienne Any fucking thing by Gwen77. Especially Clean hands, Diplomacy and Ice.

Favourite relationship development Where I follow, you’ll go by Lady_In_Red Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken, OBVIOUSLY It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine Patience on a Monument by betts, even though they’re already friends, because betts makes me sit through Jaime/Sansa and Brienne/Tormund and yet I still re-read this.

Favourite use of non-typical character. Exclude these: Jaime, Brienne, Podrick, Hyle, Cersei, Sansa, Margaery, Tyrion, Daenerys, Selwyn, Tywin. Hmm this is a tough one. Maybe Loras the photographer in Living Fiction by Archetype_Electraheart

Favourite plot In This Light by SigilBroken for canon!verse endgame On the Night’s Watch by Miss_M and Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria for modern AU. I love J/B investigating stuff together.

Favourite title Nobody Knows / You Know and I Know by Miss_M “There’s a story,” Brienne says, “about a corrupt official who went to a sage and offered him to take part in a scheme, promising no one would ever know. ‘How can you say that?’ the sage replied. ‘I know, and you know, and the earth knows, and the sky knows.’”

Favourite WiP (finished or unfinished) With All Your Faults by seaspirit (close to the end!!!) The Descent by openmouthwideeye And this is finished but Tale As Old As Time by BrienneofThrace. She came back after like four years to finish it?! That alone is fandom magic.

Favourite long one-shot Pretty by astolat (wtf this is 30k?)

Favourite short one-shot OH MY GOD THE GLASSES FIC. Age Gap by ikkiM

Favourite drabble Mmmmm I don’t really read drabbles so I’ll skip this too.

Favourite beginning What is True, But Not Ideal by Vera: Jaime doesn’t appear for like four chapters and yet I was still on board.

Favourite ending IT’S FUCKING Clean hands by Gwen77 OKAY DON’T @ ME. Traveling Far by astolat – because she just Went There and gave J/B five kids The Sorrows That Women Cause by Mussimm (seventh and final part of Works and Days, in which they just... bang)

Favourite story twist more like the man you were meant to be by janie_tangerine. I mean, this isn’t really an internal twist, more like a twist on canon The Importance of Knocking by Miss_M, since it’s a story twist for Cersei lol.

Funniest story St George's Day by sansasparky The Best Legs You've Ever Seen by ikkiM

Favourite angst In the first version of this list I said I wouldn’t pick Gwen77 again for this one, and then I re-read Ice and cried my eyes out for like, the whole thing. Special mention for catherineflowers’ series We Need to Talk About…, because of how much she just commits entirely to some really dark stuff. It’s something I wouldn’t necessarily re-read, but just the audacity it took for her to write this is really impressive.

Favourite fluff The Higher Education of Brienne of Tarth and Drunken Shenanigans with Jaime and Brienne by BrienneofThrace. Anything by BrienneofThrace to be honest. She does the purest J/B. Also, Nothing That Is So, Is So by RoseHeart, and i get to be the other half of you + The 'Kiss Me' Series by sameboots.

Favourite Jaime line Yooooooo that part in Laying Siege by astolat when Jaime just launches into his wedding proposal: “I swear to you before these witnesses that I will protect Sansa Stark with my life, beside you. I will never take the field against her. I will take your name and your crest and your house as my own—”... I can feel myself being Brienne going WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

Favourite Brienne line Yeah yeah here I go picking Gwen77 again. The very last lines of all her fics always slay me, but this is the only line I can quote verbatim, from Diplomacy: “Trapped, he had said, worry in his voice. Ruined. She had never felt so free.”

Favourite general line or excerpt I love the way Gwen77 commits to the motif of walls in Ice. I freaked out about it here. And then after all that talk about Brienne building up her walls she just HITS US WITH THIS FINAL LINE:

“Jaime was hers, encircling, warm, solid as a wall. He would catch her if she fell.”

Favourite non-romantic fic The tale of Squire!Brienne series by LadyRhiyana

Favourite maiming adaptation in a modern AU Fever by Lady_In_Red, because I love how the whole story is built on Jaime learning how to ride again with a mangled hand

Favourite kidfic Not really a full-on kidfic, but You Know and I Know (sequel to Nobody Knows) for that Jaime & Tommen relationship, plus that conversation J/B have about having kids in future. Oh, and so brief, but Traveling Far by astolat.

Craziest scene that was in character and made sense (Don’t specify chapter) Let’s just go for the entirety of Stannis Baratheon, Fantasy Football League Commissioner by ikkiM AND THAT FUCKING J/B/C FIC THAT I READ BECAUSE I DIDN’T LOOK AT THE TAGS OKAY: Pride by astolat

Most underrated fic My Fall by TeamGwenee. Witches in 1600s colonial America AND in first person POV? IT WORKS THO. Such an interesting and original premise, and written in a very refreshing succinct style, and yet this multi-chapter fic has less than 200 kudos. Another one with less than 200 kudos: and you’ve whispered what I’m worth by angel_deux, a really lovely Mad Max: Fury Road AU.

Most desperate to see updated NO PRESSURE!!! for our world is cold and full of monsters by chancellor_valdez room service by ssstrychnine A Star Within the Mere by isavedlatin (sigh)

Favourite J/B as a secondary couple Some Kind of Family by crossingwinter

Most haunting Fool by astolat. I don’t know why. It’s a very beautiful story and it’s not even a bad ending for J/B necessarily, but the fact that it ends the way it does just really fucks me up. It’s the only fic in my bookmarks that I don’t think I can ever bear to re-read.

Favourite (friendship or hate) relationship between Jaime and another character One Of The Few Things by anniebibananie (Sansa) – I’m picking this just for the sheer I-can’t-believe-you-made-this-work-and-I-applaud-you factor

Favourite (friendship or hate) relationship between Brienne and another character What Is True, But Not Ideal by Vera (Tyrion)

[tk-writer]

I'm thinking about making a tk blog. Do you have any tips for people who are just starting out and how they can start gaining a following?

hi!!! yes!! please make one!! it makes me so happy seeing new blogs pop up!!

i have a few nuggets of advice ive learned in my almost two (2) years of running this mess of a blog:

1. write the content you want to read

this is super, super important and the reason i am saying this first is because it’s going to be YOUR blog! maybe your fave fandom doesn’t have a lot of tk content, or maybe not the type of tk content you want, so it’s up to you to make it! you’ll have the most fun creating stuff that interests you. writing things you specifically like can help overcome burnout and writers block, too! i always joke about having my personal projection fics and characters, but honestly being able to create stories i like to read is what makes all of this so enjoyable.

2. tag everything!

some people don’t like to tag because they don’t wanna flood fandoms with their stuff, but in my opinion it’s really necessary to let readers know what kind of content is in your work. some people actively blacklist certain ships or tags for personal reasons, and it can be upsetting and/or triggering for them to see untagged stuff. they will appreciate your diligence. on the flip side, for those who ARE seeking out your type of content, it’ll be easier to find you through tags! just make sure the tags are relevant. don’t tag just for the sake of tagging cuz then people will click and expect something only to be disappointed. for example, tagging “tenmiko” but neither tenko or himiko are actually in the post. i am kind of a freak and tend to overtag at times, but i do it to protect ppl who don’t wanna see this kind of stuff and also to attract people who DO want to find it.

3. take requests!

there are soooo many writing prompt posts circling out there, choose some that you like a lot, reblog them announcing your open inbox, and let your followers send in requests for short drabbles or fics! that’s how i gained a lot at first :-) it helps a lot if you’re willing to write for more than one fandom or ship, but if you’re not comfortable with that then make sure to set boundaries and state them clearly. example: maybe you’ll write for oumasai and saimami, but not oumota or oumami. or maybe you’ll write a platonic pair, but not romantically. when taking requests, i also suggest keeping them short and limiting what you produce each day to avoid burnout. unless you are possessed by the muse of high word count, which happens to me at least 84 times a day sjdhsj. also... don’t feel the need to take every single request. if you don’t want to do one, don’t force it. forcing yourself will get you a direct flight to burnout city.

4. decide right away if you’re gonna be sfw or not

i personally recommend keeping your blog sfw, because then a wider audience of people will be able to read your content. of course this isn’t me saying not sfw stuff is bad! but ive noticed a lot of ppl in the tk community tend to gravitate towards sfw. again, this is for you to decide for yourself based on your boundaries and limits. if you end up making both sfw and not sfw, make sure to TAG accordingly.

5. be consistent!

not everyone has the ability to write or produce every day, but it’s good to have some consistency or maybe even a weekly schedule! if you’re active and post often people will notice and follow, especially if you’re in a fandom that’s currently very popular or gaining momentum. utilize the queue feature if you’re not gonna be around for a while!

and last...

6. be nice and support other tk blogs!

the people in this community are super sweet for the most part, and a little kindness goes a long way! reblog other people’s fics, leave kudos or comments, or send nice asks on anon if you’re shy! people really appreciate it and will support you too if they see you doin them a solid.

i think i covered the essentials, but if i forgot anything ill add more later! i hope this helps!!

[stonylovessteve]

Creator Reveals 2019

We’ve reached the end of the exchange and that means it’s time to reveal the creators of all our works.

Thank you for putting so much love and effort into Stony Loves Steve 2019, you really made it a great experience. We hope everyone loved it as much as we did!

Giftees, be sure to leave a comment and kudos on your gift if you haven’t already. All our creators worked hard to make this event a success, so show them some love.

You can now post your work publicly outside of the exchange. Tag it as #stonylovessteve2019 on tumblr and we’ll reblog you. @ us @stonylovessteve on twitter and we’ll retweet you.

Below the cut is the final list of all the works produced for the exchange and the creators.

Ride With the Moon in the Dead of Night by iam93percentstardust for Wikketkrikket (MCU AU, 11,464 Words)

The wards protecting the Upper New York pack are failing. When the pack alpha, Nick Fury, calls for aid, only one person answers: the vampire Howard Stark, promising the aid of his son. In return, he asks that his son be accepted into the pack. Fury promises that his strongest alpha will be given to Stark's son in marriage. Neither Steve nor Tony are initially pleased about this turn of events but they find themselves quickly falling in love. But not everyone is happy to allow a vampire into the pack and there is a traitor lurking in their midst.

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You've Always Been My Home by Shamen610 for softestlesbian (MCU, 4,370 words)

And that was just so like Tony wasn't it? For him to still be the one to help Steve find a home, despite being gone.

Gone.

God, he couldn't even stomach the thought of it being true.

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Clementine by Wikketkrikket for nasa (1872, 8,297 words)

From the prompt: 'The people of Timely have started getting suspicious about how much time their Sheriff is spending at their Blacksmith's house'

Ever since he was injured and his arm badly damaged in the incident with Fisk, Steve has been staying with Tony. He helps Tony stay off the drink and keep his ribbon, and Tony helps him tie his shoelaces. They're in love, but they aren't breaking any laws. Steve is very careful about that.

Except people are starting to talk anyway, and when a new Deputy arrives in town with suspicion in his eyes things get riskier than ever.

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i'd like it if you stayed (and i like you) by KingOfBiohazards for Lunatical (MCU AU, 2,958 words)

Steve gets a knight assigned to be his bodyguard. He's not happy about it (at first).

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the start of something brilliant by S_Hylor for fictionforlife (Noir, 4,382 words)

After so many years of adventuring, and then assisting in the war effort, Tony Stark didn’t think there was much left that he hadn’t seen already. That is, until on a reconnaissance mission with James Rhodes, he comes across an injured American soldier, left behind on a battlefield.

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the lion and his wolf by nasa for iam93percentstardust (MCU AU, 2,241 words)

Steve didn't have much when he came to King's Landing - his mother, his best friend, and a few copper coins to his name - but slowly, over the years, it's all been stripped away. Now, he has only one thing left: Tony Stark, heir to the North and lover to Steve.

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Handheld by talesofsuspense for SilverInStars (MCU, 4,072 words)

When Steve starts stopping for lunch at Shawarma Palace he isn't expecting Tony to show up and to keep showing up. And he definitely isn't expecting a guide to the 21st century.

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Another Chance at Another Life by heroineaddict for 13bella (MCU, 6,867 words)

Steve returns the Infinity Stones to their rightful place, and then makes a detour to fix one of his biggest regrets.

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Won't You Be My Neighbor [Art] by Cachette for sadieb798 (AU, art)

A peaceful evening!

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If I’m Ruining You Right Now, Please Forgive Me by Mizzy for Jaylee (616, 17k Words)

Tony’s definitely up to something, Steve’s sure about that. But when he follows Tony down into the unused leg of their new unconventional home, Steve isn’t expecting to discover the lengths Tony will go to try to make him happy. 

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Beautiful by LegendsofSnark for thegreytigress (MCU, 1k words)

Tony loves Steve, no matter what 

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Of You, Me, and Us by ShippersList for starkboi (MCU, 1.1k words)

They are just photos. Snaps of his life, something he started taking after the Battle of New York. Nothing fancy, nothing staged, just… quick slices of life he wanted to document, to remember things by, to help getting some flavor to the sharp memories embedded in his mind.

Some are blurry, some are ruined by time (or, more often, coffee stains), some are just of the same subject; from the time when he wanted to document the way the vines grow on that one, particular corner of the park.

Others might say most of them are worthless, but they aren’t. Not to Steve.

And some pictures mean more than the rest. Especially to Steve.

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Worth the Wait  by FreyaS for Royal_Chandler (MCU, 13k words)

When Steve woke up in the future, he met his soulmate and learned he’d lost everything else.

Tony was familiar with loss but he never expected to gain a soulmate in Steve Rogers, the man his family had spent generations searching for.

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Be Still My Little Heart by Lunatical for BeenAsleepFor70Years (AU, 4.1k words)

A beautiful boy was asleep in the flower, his hair the color of gold and his skin as pure as the lily from which he’d been born. And when he opened his eyes, they were as clear as the sky, and twice as beautiful. And he could not have been bigger than a thumb, from the tips of his golden hair to the bottom of his perfect feet, and Sarah loved him more than anything else in the world. 

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srogers@avengers.com by FestiveFerret for Lacrimula_Falsa (MCU, 7.3k words)

Between digital watches, ATMs, emails, and microwaves, Steve is exhausted by the future. Tony is only trying to help, and Steve appreciates it, but sometimes, he just needs a break from all the tech in the tower. 

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Tony Stark’s Guide to Getting A Date (And Steve Roger’s Guide to Getting Through a Thick Skull) by a_salty_alto for morcabre (AA, 1.3k words)

In which Steve turns out to be a bit smoother than expected. 

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Everybody Loves Steve (But Tony Loved Him First, Dammit) by ashes0909 for HogwartstoAlexandria (MCU AU, 4.4k words)

“So, what? I’m just supposed to get used to you being a bit taller, a bit bulkier, and that guy I met freshman year, what? He’s gone forever now?” 

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Superfamily [Art] by Hayluhalo for Squishy_TRex (MCU AU, art)

Prompt fill for “adopting kids” for the Stony Loves Steve 2019 event! 

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Heart’s Second Chance [Art] by fictionforlife for BuckytheDucky (MCU AU, art)

Based on one of BuckytheDucky’s prompts:

Steve is the rightful heir to a decent-sized kingdom, neighbouring the Stark realm. When talks arise of the kingdoms going to war, Steve’s mother tells him he must marry Prince Tony in order to prevent the war from coming to fruition; both grudgingly agree, and it’s definitely not love at first sight, fighting behind closed doors all the time even tho they pretend they’re deliriously in love in front of others. Then tragedy strikes, and Steve has to decide whether to help Tony get revenge for his kingdom against Obadiah Stane, the Starks’ most trusted advisor, or convince Tony that he’s no longer allowed to get involved in his old kingdom’s affairs. Through it all, he starts learning more about who Tony really is and maybe even falling in love.

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Three Challenges by Neverever for Katie_Kat (MCU AU, 6,6k words)

King Steve is offered a marriage alliance with the mysterious Prince Tony which will help his small country greatly. Except that there is a twist. There always is. 

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Be My Sunshine, My Only Sunshine by Nixie_DeAngel for Neverever (MCU AU, 1,8k words)

Letting out an overly tired, but still fond, sigh, Steve closes his charms tome and caps his inkwell before pushing it back towards the center of the table and places his quill next to it. “Okay, Tony, you have exactly twenty minutes before I really do need to get back to studying. Why do you need me to be your pretend boyfriend?”

Or, even as wizards Tony and Steve still can only find there way to each other through the muggle trope of fake dating while fighting their real feelings.

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a date with disaster (or, the time steve essentially whored himself out on national tv to pay his rent) by quellthefire for Serinah (MCU AU, 3,6k words)

Steve’s been having a hard time finding freelance work, so Bucky signs him up for a reality dating show to earn some extra cash. Little does Steve know that this is going to be the worst date he could possibly imagine, on purpose. 

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To have and to hold by daisybelle for LegendsofSnark (MCU, 1.4k words)

Written for the prompt: Parents!Stony: Steve has somehow gotten sick and Tony is freaking out because Steve always takes care of him and Peter. Cue Peter and Tony frantically trying to do everything in their power to get Steve better. And Steve smiling at his little family. 

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You’re Always Worth It by Nixie_DeAngel for Hayluhalo (EMH, 1.6k words)

Tony sees it in the way Steve’s shoulders grow tenser, the way his answers become shorter and snappier. Sees it in the way his eyes grow colder and harder. He sees it in the extra hours put in to training and working out, the way Steve goes through combat bots and reinforced punching bags.

Or, Tony takes Steve on a mini vacation and helps his partner unwind.

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when you’re gone by talktothesky for ishipallthings (MCU, 25.6k words)

Steve’s had to get used to many things in the 21st century but falling in love with Tony Stark might be the weirdest one yet.

Especially because the man’s dead.

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The shadow of men by Bill_Longbow for silversoul_snow (MCU AU, 6.8k words)

When Steve sinks his teeth into bringing Tony Stark to justice he shouldn’t be surprised the mob boss takes a mutual interest. He ìs suprised the mobster does this by kidnapping him, but the most confusing thing is that Steve doesn’t really mind…

In a world where soulmates are only rumours and myths, what chance do a cop and a crook have together?

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time doesn’t love you anymore (like i love you) by armoredsoftie for jayjayverse (MCU, 3.1k words)

Steve returned the Stones to their respective places, and it’s time to go back home. But after an accident with the time traveling bracelet, he’s stuck in 1993, where he tries to find the help of a young Tony Stark. After a few drinks in the most popular gay bar in town, things might take a different direction. 

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Breakfast [Art] by SpanglesandSass (Fidella) for SirSapling (Ultimates, Art)

For the prompt:

1. Stressed out Steve gets pampered

If anyone needed a lazy day and breakfast in bed, it’s probably Steve.

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On the Road We Find the Journey Home by navaan for Missy_dee811 (Marvel 616, 5.7k words)

In the Aftermath of Secret Empire, Steve goes on his Road Trip to find out who Captain America can be after Hyda!Cap put fear into the hearts’ of the people who used to cheer for him. His thoughts trail back to Tony. 

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For A Good Time Call by BeenAsleepFor70Years for mariana_oconnor (Avengers Assemble, 8.7k words)

Steve explores his sexuality by trying out a phone sex service. He may just leave the situation crushing on the guy at the other end of the phone. He already had feelings for his teammate Iron Man, now a new crush gets thrown into the mix. What ever shall he do? 

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And I Owe It All To You��by starkboi for muchmoremajestic (MCU AU, 2.8k words)

Steve volunteers to participate in a dance marathon for charity. He’s got a final project looming over his head and needs a break from reality, it’s there that he gets playfully competitive with a certain snarky brown haired boy from MIT. 

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The Ring of Fire or The One Where Steve is Young and Confused by Serinah for One and Five Nines (Obani) (MCU AU, 15.9k words)

What you read on the tin. Steve is 19 and has only had one girlfriend. He doesn’t like men, never has, so why the hell does Professor Stark make him feel this way?

A story with a ridiculous amount of anger, internalized homophobia, sexual exploration, self-discovery and pining. In short: it’s about how student Steve tries, fails and then tries again to understand what going on with him while dealing with his crush on a professor.

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An Old Friend by Katie_Kat for Evanna_Adams (MCU, 1.2k words)

Steve is packing up and getting ready to move from the Tower to the new compound when Peter finds something interesting hiding in the closet.

For the Stony Loves Steve 2019 Fic Exchange.

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certain as the sun by ohmyloki for ShippersList (MCU, 3.8k words)

Steve doesn’t know how to dance. Tony says he doesn’t dance. Natasha wonders what’s the point of living in a mansion if no one is ever going to use the ballroom? 

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Don’t Ask by dirigibleplumbing for SpellWolf (Avengers Academy, 3.6k words)

Steve has a secret.

Steve also plays a lot of truth or dare.

Tony notices that Steve always picks “dare,” and starts daring him to pick “truth” instead.

What will Tony think if he finds out what Steve’s hiding? 

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Silicone Rings by kenshincha for picturecat (The Avengers - All Media Types, 1.1k words)

Steve contemplates their long engagement. 

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Almost Perfect [Art] by One and Five Nines (Obani) for farawatt (MCU, Art)

A powerful enemy invades from an alternate reality, but the only thing he really seems interested in is Steve Rogers

EXTREMELY DISTURBING CONTENT, MIND THE TAGS 

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In Your Shadow by magicasen for talesofsuspense (Marvel 616, 2.9k words)

Tony thinks the mansion might be haunted. Steve’s not so sure about that.

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A Beautiful Thing by thegraytigress for FestiveFerret (MCU, 62.5k words)

Steve charges into a crashed alien ship to save survivors, and he comes out with a newfound power: telepathy. The fact that he can read minds isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, though. It’s pretty amusing to the team, really annoying to Steve, and generally not as cool as it sounds. It especially sucks that it’s driven a wedge between him and Tony, not that Steve can figure out why. Still, all in all, it’s something he can try to live with.

Until he can’t.

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Stuck by Neverever for PjCole (MCU AU, 2.9k words)

Hairstylist Tony Stark itches to cut Steve’s messy hair. But Steve has other issues on his mind.

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Loving You 3000 by athletiger for armoredsoftie (MCU AU, 1.5k words)

He stared. On his chest, above his palpitating heart, was the number 3000. Steve’s fingers lifted, unbidden, and he brushed over the numbers, which only stared back at him.

His chest constricted, then swelled.

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Previously Thought to be Impossible by Impala_Chick for navaan (MCU, 2.8k words)

In 1970, SHIELD HQ was working on a powerful aphrodisiac prototype. Tony Stark from 2023 happens to cut open the wrong box at the wrong time, and Steve Rogers from 2023 doesn’t know how to feel about it.

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A Coincidence called Fate. by SilverinStars for kenshincha (MCU AU, 2.7k words)

The first time Potts met Stevens, the man had come limping into the infirmary. His face was pale, but he held himself upright.

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Moments in Time by Squishy_TRex for talktothesky (MCU, 3k words)

A shared life, over the years.

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Does the sun shine (during lock down)? by HogwartstoAlexandria for Nixie_DeAngel (MCU, 9.6k words)

The last thing Tony expects when he wakes up that day is the very thing he finds in Pepper’s office, or rather, the very person.

Old flames do they ever really die down? Maybe not, but does Tony have the luxury to find out when he has to think about Peter’s well-being first and foremost?

Or when Pepper is worried, makes a decision, and Tony’s life spins on its axis, once again.

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[art fill] on read by Priestly for KingOfBiohazards (MCU, Art)

Texting Tony Stark is sometimes easier than talking to him face to face. Mini-comic!

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good old-fashioned lover boy by nanasekei for Cachette (MCU, 7k words) 

Tony is thrilled about his new relationship with Steve. He’s on cloud nine, in fact. It’s so amazing he can believe it’s real. He just wishes they could… Uh. Touch a little. Just a little

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Here’s Looking at You by mariana_oconnor for SpanglesandSass (MCU, 12.6k words)

Captain America’s disapproving stare watched over most of Tony’s childhood. It only makes sense that when Steve Rogers walks into Tony’s life, that he return the favour and stare right back. But what he sees when Steve doesn’t know he’s watching doesn’t match up with what he thinks he knows, and he comes to realise that maybe the man under the cowl isn’t quite as untouchable as he thought.

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Write and Draw by SpellWolf for Shamen610 (MCU, 2.7k words)

games night and plotting ends with two idiots finally getting together

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Loose Ends by muchmoremajestic for riodesal (MCU, 8.9k words)

Steve Rogers was found in late 2007 after being on ice for over sixty years. In trying to find closure with his past, a few months later he comes across Tony - at the moment a charismatic billionaire responsible for the world’s most lucrative weapons manufacturing company while the country is at war fighting terrorist cells in Afghanistan. When Steve reaches out to Tony to get closure on his friendship with Tony’s father Howard, how will Tony react? Can Steve find the closure that he’s looking for?

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running into the sun by kiden for ohmyloki (MCU, 8.2k words) 

There are other people Steve could ask. Sam or Nat. Even Clint would make more sense. It’s not that they aren’t friends - they are, they’re good friends, hard won, fought for, worked on - it’s just weird. They can live together and fight together, but Tony’s not so sure a few weeks with just the two of them in a car is a good idea. It’s definitely not a smart idea. “Can you repeat that, please?” or: tony and steve go on a nice, soft road trip that brings them closer together.

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Vienna Waits For You by Evanna_Adams for quellthefire (MCU, 13.4k words) 

Steve Rogers was desperate. Not in the general sense of the word but the deadline for his college art project seemed to be looming and damnit, he should have been done already. But it had taken a bit of Barton and Wilson madness to leave his final project in pieces. Natasha, Bucky and the guilt-ridden duo had tried to help him, but the project was lost to him. They had even tried to offer their own college acquired expertise to help. Of course, he had to refuse.

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posing up a storm by picturecat for Mizzy (MCU, 5.2k words) 

“I have an idea. Can we just pretend the day ended with that really badass Superfriends pose we did?”

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Letters To My Lover by Missy_dee811 for XtaticPearl (MCU, 3.5 words)

*Avengers: Endgame spoilers* On the day of the funeral, Steve hears a phone ringing that shouldn’t be. No one had that number. No one except Tony.

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Taking a chance by DepressingGreenie for Bill Longbow (MCU, 746 words/art) 

Steve likes the Science Professor who lives across the hall.

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Yes to heaven by jayjayverse for magicasen (616, 1.1k words/art) 

All started with a clear change of smell, it was subtle, slow in a way that if Janet had not told him he would not have noticed, but after that he just could not help noticing every little sign.

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Eleven Years by One and Five Nines (Obani) for Impala Chick (MCU, 2.2k words) 

*ENDGAME SPOILERS* After the final battle, Steve comes around to Tony’s house. He’s not sure how things stand with Tony, but at least Morgan likes him.

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Frostbite by FestiveFerret for DepressingGreenie (MCU, 5.4k words) 

They’ve found where Steve is being kept - he has to be in this building - but JARVIS can’t find a heat signature, and Tony knows what that means.

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[art fill] second chances by Priestly for kiden (MCU, art) 

“Regret is corrosive. And I hate it.” 

“Me too.” 

Together, Steve and Tony can save half of all life on Earth. And if they’re lucky enough, maybe they can even save their relationship. Art fill!

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We’re Going Off Script by ishipallthings for FreyaS (MCU, 5.2k words) 

“Or, maybe you just need practice?” Steve blinks at Tony’s question, confused. Maybe Tony needs more sleep than he thought. He’ll have to check with JARVIS. 

“Practice - at dating?”

(Steve needs help in the dating department. Tony is happy to help out, because he’s a very good friend. That’s definitely the only reason.)

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One Throw of the Dice by Wikketkrikket for dirigibleplumbing (616/Ults/3490/1872, 5.7k words) 

Steve shrugged, pulling on his shirt. ‘It’s not like it’s Jane or no-one. Everyone gets more than one throw of the dice, Tony.’ 

He only realised his mistake when Tony didn’t say anything, turning away too quickly when Steve turned to look at him. It didn’t take too much thought to connect the dots. Tony did think you only got one throw of the dice. Tony thought he, Steve, was that one. The One. 

In which they realise Tony loves Steve more than Steve loves him. But it’s kind of hard to work through it when the Skrulls interfere, and scatter your sense of self to the multiverse.

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Hands Out In The Dark by XtaticPearl for ashes0909 (MCU, 44.4k words) 

When Thanos died the first time, it was anybody’s guess that the end of the journey had been reached. Sometimes though, a bad end becomes the opening to an unexpected but good beginning, and a tired Steve Rogers learns that in the five years it takes for him to get back to a battlefield. The years after that, well that was a story he hadn’t considered until life gave him the chance to try. What he ended up writing, whom he wrote it with, and why it all ended on a bench in New York - there were stories even a Time Stone hadn’t expected.

sun in an empty room by farawatt for nanasekei (MCU/Ults/616, 2.3k words) 

Melancholy is dangerous.

It’s funny how you forgive the past to try and revive it.

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A Long Road To Share by SirSapling for daisybelle (Ults, art) 

After 50 years in the ice and a couple exhausting years leading the Ultimates, Steve realises he isn’t quite sure he knows anything about the new modern America he’s supposed to represent. Luckily, Tony has an idea how to show him.

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Dare I Say Forever by royal_chandler for herioneaddict (MCU, 4.2k words) 

Naive and young, Steve had thought about it. He’d allowed himself to dream of post-war, matching gold bands and a white picket fence penning in a rambunctious pair of children. 

However, there’s no such thing as post-war.

[let-it-raines]

Betting on the Bullseye (23/30)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a drunken bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush - if you can call him that - to be her date to her office’s annual fundraising gala for Boston’s Children Shelter. Killian Jones is that celebrity. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost all because of the ridiculousness of the situation. 

What she doesn’t expect is for him to say yes.What she truly doesn’t expect is to actually like the man.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I can never thank you guys enough for loving this story so much and letting me know whether by click, kudos, comment, reblog, or hiding out in your comfort zone and simply enjoying! It’s been an absolute thrill to write, and some of my favorite chapters are coming up! 💙

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic​ @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious @thejollyroger-writer @superchocovian @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @notoriouscs

“So can you tell me again why I’m going apartment shopping with you today instead of Killian being here?”

“Because,” she begins, pulling on a jacket to fight off the early-October chill that’s really coming in this year, the temperatures dipping much lower than usual. All of September was like a blazing inferno until the calendar changed and suddenly a flip was switched for all of Boston to turn into a snow globe…just without the snow. Though, she wouldn’t be surprised if it decided to come early this year with how things are going. “Killian is meeting with the producers of his movie again so that they can do some screen tests with some other actors, so he can’t be here.”

“Okay, but, like, if he’s buying the place, shouldn’t he be here?”

“I mean, obviously Rubes,” she sighs, opening up her front door and holding it open for Ruby to walk through before she can lock it, “but he’s busy and I figured you could give me second opinions. Besides, we’ve already narrowed it down to these places anyways. He knows that he likes them. He just hasn’t physically seen them yet.”

“Well, my dear,” she begins, wrapping her arm around Emma’s shoulder as they walk toward the staircase, “I can be Killian for a day. Just don’t expect me to help you christen any of these places.”

“You know, some things that you think about, they should never be said out loud.”

“But I just love my darling Emma,” Ruby mocks, adding in what has to be the worst British accent she’s ever heard as she kisses her hair. “She’s just so damn pretty and has hair like gold. And my God, I want to marry her and let her have all of my beautiful babies so that we can be on billboards together.”

“Billboards?”

“Out of all of that, your focus was on billboards?”

She shrugs as much as she can with Ruby’s arm on her shoulder as they exit her building and walk to where her car is parked a few buildings over since she couldn’t get her usual parking spot last night. “Kind of seemed like an outdated thing. Figured you’d go with viral videos or something since we’re already so good at making those.”

“If I didn’t know you were talking about the Christmas video thing, I’d swear you were talking about a sex tape. Something to keep in mind if you ever say that out loud again.”

“You have issues.”

“Ooh,” Ruby gasps, moving her arm, “you two could be in Vogue. There we go. That’s where you and all of your pretty, pretty babies can have your pictures taken.”

She snickers underneath her breath, words escaping her for how to even respond to that as they load up into her bug. She is one hundred percent not ready to seriously think about babies right now, but she can indulge in the thought when Ruby is messing with her. She and Killian have casually talked about kids before, but it’s never been anything definite. They just know what they need to know for when their lives come to that point…sometime in the future. Right now they’re simply trying to find somewhere to live.

Plus, if she thinks about giving birth too much she really freaks out. Some shit goes down.

Sometimes literally.

Nope. No. not thinking about that.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs as she sits down in her seat and closes her car door, “but I can pretty much guarantee that you won’t be seeing my face on any billboards.”

“Eh, I could always rent one out myself. Anything is possible when you don’t care about wasting money and going into loads of debt just to mess with your friends.”

-/-

“Damn,” Ruby whistles as Emma trails her fingers along the marble countertop, tracing the gray line that moves throughout the island to break up the monotony of the white. “This is fancy. You’ve even got a view of the water out this window.”

“That would be all Killian’s preference,” she admits, walking away from the kitchen and through the living room to stand next to the open windows that look out onto the water, the docks filled with boats. “His house is on the beach, you know? And he likes to be near the water. I figure he should have at least that.”

“I mean, it’s not like the rest of this place is too shabby.”

“I know, I know. It’s just – ”

“What?”

“It’s so modern, and neither of us are very modern people, house wise. I mean, I’ve never really had the option to do anything other than thrift store ‘oh that’s kind of a cute chair,’ but I do like the traditional stuff. I think the clean lines kind of throw me off. It’s like it’s not lived in.”

“Well, it’s not. It’s new. Didn’t the realtor lady say that when she was showing us around? What was her name again?”

“Dorothy.”

“Like in the Wizard of Oz?”

“Yep,” she sighs, turning back around to go explore the kitchen now that they have free range of the place with Dorothy standing outside very obviously faking talking to someone else so that Emma thinks there’s another buyer. Sometimes she wonders if real estate agents know just how transparent they are. Not that she would ever tell Elsa that. She’s not about to mess things up there, and she’s sure that Elsa is fantastic at her job. Well, she knows she is. Elsa set them up with Dorothy’s agency and helped them find some of these places when they were in California last month. It’s like she’s sucking up even though literally no one can hear her thoughts. “She’s really sweet, but she kind of makes me nervous if only because I think I’m disappointing her whenever I don’t like a place.”

“Well, in all fairness, you probably are. She doesn’t get paid until you pay the big bucks.”

“True,” she admits before opening up the cabinets, checking their depth as if she knows how much space kitchen appliances take up when she owns the bare minimum. “She was flirting with you, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Ruby agrees, her voice rising in pitch. “That’s why I felt so bad that I couldn’t remember her name.”

“Did her beauty just make you forget everything?” she teases, leaning back to smile at Ruby who’s got her bottom lip between her teeth while her fingers tap across the countertop. “Oh my God,” she gasps, closing the cabinet a little too loudly, “you like her.”

“Possibly,” she huffs, rolling her eyes before she hops up on the counter, legs swinging and heels clicking against the cabinets. She sits on counters a lot, and the white will likely get scuffed. That’s probably something to keep in mind. Apartment shopping is so damn overwhelming when you have to think about things like your friend’s heels scuffing the counters or Brody spitting up on the carpet when Mary Margaret brings him over. And literally a million other things. “I mean, I’ve spent about forty-five minutes with the woman as she shows you apartments in Boston I’d never dare step into on my own, but yeah, I don’t know. I felt a spark.”

“Did you actually just use the word spark to describe it?”

“Yes, don’t judge me. So this place is a no go?”

She nods her head, looking around one last time. “This place is a no go.”

Despite the fact that she and Killian mapped out every one of these places online before requesting a showing, she goes through seven of them hating nearly every one. One of the apartments literally had a bathtub next to a window that could be seen by anyone walking by on the sidewalk, and a home they walked into honestly made it feel like she was on some kind of old Naval boat. Seriously, there were a million different levels that were not shown online and the staircases made her feel claustrophobic. They keep striking out on things, and it’s starting to get a little disheartening.

There’s about a ninety percent chance Ruby is going to have a date after today, though, so at least one good thing has come out of this, especially because she knows that Ruby hasn’t dated much since she and Victor broke up, just a few nights out with people she’s met online that have not turned into anything.

At least those people weren’t murderers. Dorothy doesn’t seem like the murdering type, but you never know.

Such a fun thing to think about.

“So are you familiar with the area?” Dorothy asks as she lets them into another apartment, their last one on the list before they drive to Back Bay to look at a house that Killian likes that’s next to the river. The pictures online looked nice, but she wasn’t completely sold on how close the bedroom window was to a public park. At least it’s not like the bathtub thing.  

The risk of murderers being Tinder dates and peeping Toms looking into bedroom windows is not one she’s willing to joke around about.

Her mind is a wonderful place to live sometimes. It’s too bad there’s no real estate there.

No. Wait. That’s weird. She’s really got to stop looking at listings. She might be going a bit mad.

“I’ve been around here to eat a few times,” she admits, walking inside and immediately noticing the floor-to-ceiling windows that she loved online, the view of the harbor in this apartment even prettier in person as miles of water stretch out before her, “but I’ve never looked at the apartments over here. This is gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it? The views are great, and you’ve got to see it at night when all of the lights are turned on. You’ve got a great patio out there with a firepit that’s great for a date or hosting company or even just a quiet night in. You’d also have room for a small garden or something if you wanted to bring a little life in. I think the people who live below here have a nice little vegetable garden.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, walking past the living space to look through the kitchen. It’s modern, but it’s got these wood and copper accents that she really likes that make it feel a little more homey. Killian will love the counter space too. And the appliances. He’s got a thing about the appliances. He’s got a preference about a lot of things, but she doesn’t blame him. She does too. Just not about her appliances. “How many bedrooms is this one again?”

“It’s two technically, but there’s a spare sitting room that can easily be used as a guest or a nursery. I’ve seen that a lot lately.”

“Ems, I think Dorothy might be John Mulaney’s realtor,” Ruby whispers in her ear, and Emma has to stifle her laugh at the reference.

“She also said a guest room.”

“Well, if it’s going to be a guest room, I need to see it for when I come to visit.”

“You live twenty minutes from here.”

“Details.”

She continues to walk around the apartment, snapping a few pictures and sending them to Killian like she’s been doing all day so he can see things a little more clearly. She wishes that he were here, but work is work and no matter where they’re living, they’re always going to miss some things. It just won’t be everything. It’ll be better. Besides, he’ll be able to look on another day because this definitely isn’t a decision she should be making on her own when this is going to be their place.

Damn, that’s still a weird thing to think about after a month of knowing that this is real and that this is happening.

After their initial conversations and telling their families about everything, the excitement of the move and over moving in together wore down a bit so they could seriously think about the practicality of it all. There were a few times where she felt like her heart was actually in her throat while they were talking, but that never lasted long. She loves him, she wants to be with him, and she’s ready to make this step that should be a giant leap but kind of feels like she’s simply walking up to the Nolans’ house, like it’s natural.

That’s terrifying.

It’s also exhilarating.

They’re good, she and Killian. They fit. She knows that they do, and she’s not going to question the good things she has going.

Okay, she’s not going to question them anymore. She’s already done that, and she doesn’t need to continue to do that. She loves him, and this is going to work. They’re going to have a place that is theirs. There’s not going to be as much traveling or as many plane rides. She’s no longer going to need to worry about always having her neck pillow or about time changes when Killian’s at home and not working. She’s not going to get a ticket for speeding to the airport because she’s running late for a flight, and when she wakes up in the morning, there’s going to be the man she loves next to her.

And he’s not going to have to leave.

That’s the best part.

He gets to stay.

She’s so glad that he gets to stay.

Her phone rings in her hand, and she smiles to herself at the face that pops up. “Speak of the Devil,” she sighs as she answers the phone, holding it up to her ear and walking down the hallway to the master bedroom for some privacy.

“Now, Swan, I know I’m devilishly handsome and that you get to benefit from that, but I don’t think that makes me the Devil.”

She hums into the phone as she twists the knob and walks in. The furniture in here is very obviously staged, but she likes it, the bed sprawling out in the middle of the room with a fireplace in front of it and more large windows looking out into the harbor that have blinds attached. She’d bet those are blackout, and if they’re installed already, that means they come with the property. Elsa told her that. There’s some technical term for it, but she can’t remember.

“It just does, babe. Are you on your lunch break?”

“Yeah, I’m about to go grab a sandwich or something from the cafeteria.”

“You sound like a kid at school.”

“I promise you I’m not. It’s been a solid fifteen years since I was in school getting a sandwich from the cafeteria. What apartment are you looking at now?”

“The Seaport District one. Um, I think it’s on Pier Avenue or something. I can’t remember even though we literally got here twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh, I like that one,” he mumbles into the phone while a horn beeps behind him. Is he walking in front of a car? It’s probably a golf cart. There are a million golf carts at the studio. “There’s a view of the water no matter which room you’re in.”

“Yeah, I think you’d like this one even more in person. There’s a lot of room too, and it’s not too modern. I feel like the only options in this town is everything having not been updated for fifty years or it’s like it’s trying to be in the space age.”

“Yeah, I noticed that too. What about the master bathroom and the closet?”

“Um,” she hums, walking away from the window and heading to the door that she assumes is the bathroom, “let me check now. You want to switch the facetime so you can see?”

“That’d be some smart thinking there, Swan.”

“Yeah whatever,” she sighs as she rolls her eyes, hitting the button to facetime him and waiting to for Killian’s face to pop up. When it does, it’s a slightly blurry version of him until she can clearly see his eyes under the baseball cap. “Well hello there, KJ.”

“Hello, darling,” he smiles, waving at her until he drops his phone, the device nearly tumbling to the ground before he catches it. Or she thinks he catches it because they’re still connected instead of the phone shattering. How the hell is he so clumsy sometimes? “Bloody hell, I was almost run over by a golf cart and nearly destroyed my phone. It’s rough having to look at your face.”

“Asshole.”

“Indeed,” he admits, moving his brows across his covered forehead and winking at her. “Now show me this bathroom, love. I need to see if all of your toothbrush accessories will fit in there.”

She groans, throwing her head back even as her lips curl into a smile while she walks into the bathroom, the light blue cabinets adding in a little color to the white marble that covers the countertops and the walls. It’s got the copper accents from the kitchen over both of the sinks, and she makes sure to show it to Killian so that he can see that there is indeed space for her toothbrush and all of its replacement heads. And toothpaste. She can also have toothpaste.

Dental hygiene and all.

Maybe she can have an entire drawer for her floss.

No, that’d be ridiculous. She’ll just share with Killian.

“See, there’s plenty of room.”

“It’s smaller than my house here.”

“Well, it’s an apartment in a crowded city. It’s not going to be like your house. I’ve still got an actual house to look at later today, but it’s smaller too. I really like this place though. I haven’t been too much of a fan of everything else.”

“Yeah, I’d seen a couple of your texts. Is the shower a good size?”

“It is,” she tells him, opening up the door before closing it and walking to the other end of the room for the closet. “And this is the closet. Is it big enough for your clothes and your ego?”

“The clothes, yes. The ego, not so much.”

“Well, I think you’d have to buy the building for that.”

“That is not happening. I guess you’ll just have to stuff it in there.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Well okay Michael Scott,” Killian laughs, his face crinkling with his laugher as he continues to move, the light fading as he enters a building. God, she loves when he smiles like that, and she loves when he’s smiling like that because of her. It’s such a little thing, but she loves when he’s happy.

And being happy isn’t a little thing. It’s a really big thing actually.

She’s glad that she makes him happy. Hopefully indefinitely.

If eighteen-year-old Emma could hear twenty-eight-year old Emma’s thoughts, she would be entirely convinced that they aren’t the same person. But they are. There’s just been some development. Some really damn good development that she’s proud of.

“I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”

“Indeed you did. I like the place, Swan. I mean, we’ll have to look again when I come into town on Wednesday, okay? Just jot down your top three places, and we’ll arrange it with Dorothy to see them. I’ve got to go. I’m going to eat with some of the kids who came in to possibly play my child.”

“Those poor, poor children.”

“Goodbye, Emma,” he sighs, smiling at her. His smile should not be that bright through a screen It just shouldn’t. He’s turning her into a cheesy mess. Mac and cheese would probably be good for dinner. “I love you.”

“I love you, KJ. I’ll keep texting you updates.”

“Thanks, love. Talk to you later.”

“Ems,” Ruby yells, sliding into the closet and nearly tumbling into her, “guess who has a date tomorrow night.”

“You?” she smiles, sliding her phone into her back pocket and stepping back so that Ruby has some room to freak out.

“Yes me. Obviously me. Can we go shopping after this? I’ve looked at apartments with you all day, so this is literally the least you can do for me.”

“Well excuse me, but I’m pretty sure that the only reason you even have a date is because of me.”

“Eh, that’s debatable. We could have met another way. Like, while running or something.”

“How many people do you meet while running?”

“You would be surprised. I’ve got a fantastic ass. It brings all of the peeps to the yard.”

“You don’t have a yard.”

“It was a thinly veiled reference,” Ruby mumbles under her breath as her finger points to count a shelf that Emma thinks is for shoes. Or possibly folded pants and shirts. She’s not entirely sure. It could be for all of it. “When we go shopping, we have to buy you some shoes. Yours aren’t going to fill this shelf.”

“I’m not spending money I don’t have on shoes just so I can fill that shelf. That’s ridiculous. I’m supposed to be saving, especially because I’m still negotiating the raise at work. I think they’re going to agree to it, but I don’t know yet.”

“Ugh, so economical. Why deny shoes when you finally have a way to display them that’s not having them scattered on the floor?”

“Money. You can buy me shoes for my birthday, okay? I have this pair of boots that I have my eye on. Or you can buy me dishes or something. I probably need some of those.”

Ruby literally groans before she starts walking out of the closet, Emma close on her heels. “You are not allowed to turn boring like Marg and David just because you’re getting all homey.”

“If Mary Margaret and David heard you called them boring, they would be the first people to try to prove you wrong by going out, drinking one beer, and then asking if they could go home before nine.”

“In all fairness, sitting on your ass on the couch is a pretty great way to spend a night. This bathroom is fantastic,” Ruby suddenly states, the change in conversation almost causing whiplash. “The lighting is giving me clear skin.”

“I think that’s just because you have clear skin.”

“But I never knew that until right at this moment.”

She snorts, actually snorts, as she walks over to the window that’s at the opposite end of the bathroom. She’s not quite over the view of the ocean from up here, and she wonders how long she’ll have to live here to get used to it.

Oh.

Oh wow.

This is definitely the place. She’s thinking about seriously living here. She can see herself here. She can see them here. She can see a future here.

This is going to be her home.

This is going to be their home.

“So do you like this place, Ems?” Ruby asks as she checks her eyebrow for stray hairs under the vanity lights.

“Yeah,” she admits, looking back out over the ocean, “I love it.”

They look at the house in Back Bay after that, but honestly, Emma knows that the apartment is the one. It really is. She knows the Killian will love it too, and she tells Dorothy that when she sets up another viewing of it for Wednesday when Killian will be back. She really hopes that Ruby’s date goes well because if it doesn’t, that might be the slightest bit awkward. But she thinks it will, and it’s nice to see Ruby excited as they drive the short distance over to Copley so that they can find something for her to wear. It doesn’t take nearly as long as Emma expected, especially with how Ruby can be, and they’re out of there within an hour once Ruby finds a red dress that she most definitely won’t wear with a jacket even though it’ll be cold tomorrow night.

She really might be turning into Mary Margaret, but she doesn’t want Ruby to get frostbite. That probably won’t happen but still. She’ll try to at least get Ruby to wear a coat for a little bit of time.

It’s likely impossible.

After dropping Ruby off at her apartment, she drives home, pulling into her usual parking space and hurrying inside the building so that she can change into her pajamas and fix herself something to eat. She still kind of wants mac and cheese, but since she doesn’t have any, she makes herself a grilled cheese sandwich and some tomato soup (the classics are classics for a reason) to eat in front of the TV. It’s a Friday night sitting on her ass on the couch, and she’s glad for it. Her life has been so hectic lately, and it’s kind of nice for a bit of calm.

Her phone buzzes next to her, and she reaches over to pick it up at the same time that some cheese falls out of the sandwich and onto her chin. She really is so graceful all of the time.

Liam: Do you want me to mail these pictures to you? Or are you going to pick them up when you’re here?

Emma: Can you mail them? I want to get frames for them and have them as soon as possible.

Liam: I’ll put them in the mail on the way to work tomorrow.

Emma: Thank you! You’re my second favorite Jones brother!

Liam: I’m both flattered and offended.

Emma: As you should be. Give Elsa and Aiden all of my love!

She’d called Liam last week and asked if he had any old family photos of he and Killian together or of the two of them with their mom. It’s a really small thing, but she wanted to give Killian a little piece of home in his new one. He’s really insistent that most everything at his house stay the same so that they always have that option for when he’s working there or for when they’re visiting his family and friends, so she imagines that he won’t be packing up many of the picture frames that are scattered throughout his house. The least she can do is ask Liam to go through the few albums of pictures she knows that he has to see if there are any pictures that she can get for Killian.

If they’re going to be living together, it’s going to be a home for the both of them. That’s how it works. She doesn’t have a lot of childhood photos, but Killian does – and they should most definitely be displayed. Liam sent her some pictures (of the pictures, which is obviously the simplest form of inception) of the ones he’s sending her, and there’s this one where Killian is apparently six and has his shirt off with a blue popsicle melted down his chest and his lips tinted the same blue. He’s got this toothy grin on his face, and his mom is sitting behind him in the grass of whatever park they’re in. She’s beautiful, and even through the blurry picture, Emma can see just how happy she is to be spending the day with her sons.

She looks a lot like Killian. They have the same eyes, and like always, her heart breaks for him to have lost someone who was so damn important to him. She wishes that she could have met his mom, but as she knows, it’s not possible. She can honor her memory though, even if it’s the smallest of things.

For the briefest of moments she thinks of her parents. She thinks of the stories she made up of them over the years. She used to want to meet them, to know if her thoughts about whether or not one of them had blonde hair like hers or if they had her eyes. She used to want to know where she got her height from or maybe if her dad had a sweet tooth like her. She wanted to know everything about them. Mostly, though, she wanted to know why they gave her up, why she wasn’t good enough for them.

She’s old enough now, been through enough, to know that it wasn’t about her. They were probably young and irresponsible and couldn’t provide for her. Or maybe they weren’t. Maybe they didn’t want kids. Maybe they weren’t young, maybe they weren’t irresponsible, and maybe life simply hadn’t worked out for them to keep her.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

She doesn’t know. She’ll never know. All she knows is that they didn’t keep her. They didn’t keep her, and it’s not her fault. She still struggles with that sometimes, with the fact that she knows that it isn’t her fault. Because she does know, but that doesn’t keep there from being nights where she doesn’t still feel abandoned and lost. That’ll likely always stay with her, but she’s learned to live with it.

She thinks she’s learned to overcome it.

She’s got this life that she’s built with family that she’s found along the way, and she’s proud of herself and the light that she lets herself live with. Sometimes she uses humor as a defense mechanism, but most of the time, she likes to laugh. She likes to have that light in her life that she missed for so long.

She likes to have a metaphorical blue popsicle melting on her because she was having too much of a good time to eat it all before it melted.

She loves that on the nights where the light fades away, the darkness encompassing her more than usual, she has someone right beside her who understands her in a way that no one else does.

And she loves that she gets to do the same for him, letting him tell stories of love and loss no matter how late into the night it takes.

It doesn’t matter. She’s got the time.

[littlelonghairedoutlawllho]

Fanfic Writer Ask Meme!

Tagged by @bogglebabbles

Author’s Name: littlelonghairedoutlaw here and on FFN, ponderinfrustration on AO3, and generally just Shauna

Fandoms you write for: Phantom of the Opera, but I have written for Harry Potter, Sherlock, Saga of Darren Shan/Cirque du Freak, His Dark Materials, Chess, and Lonesome Dove. I think that’s all? Though there is a high chance I’ll end up writing for HDM again when the series airs because you know I love my disaster man Lee and my dear witch queen Serafina.

Where you post: Here, FFN, and AO3

Most popular one-shot: in terms of both reviews and favs it’s Twin Hearts, Echoed on FFN. On AO3, Permission of Intimacy has the most kudos, Compositional Interruption the most bookmarks, and Masquerade the most comments.

Most popular multi-chapter story: Soft Place to Fall has the most faves and reviews, Cartography has the most kudos and bookmarks on AO3, and SPtF wins on comments.

Favorite story you wrote: The Delta series and love-light. Both of them are just so satisfying. Delta has so much in it that I wanted to do for a long time, and it’s the sort of thing I’ve been wanting to read. Did not know how much I needed a tubercular Erik and an OT3 in my life until then. And as for love-light...God. It’s oddly personal in a way. It’s very much a tribute to the books I’ve been reading the last month, the sort of feelings I’ve been drawn to, and things I’ve been thinking about. There are probably about a hundred different things in it that Against the Tide and Thanks for the tea are responsible for, right down to Erik’s dodgy lungs and his English education and the description of his face. And just the fact that it’s Irish. It’s Connemara. It’s not even the part of Connemara that I’ve been to, but how I want to go there. love-light is just very important to me on a level that’s inexplicable but it’s deep in my heart. It’s my wine-drinking, Perseid story which included an interlude to cry over Noël Browne, and it is directly responsible for the existence of Stardust.

Story you were nervous to post: All of them. Nervous and excited. love-light especially because it’s so dear to me, but all the Tinder stories too and SPtF, and Etched and Wraiths and RTtR, and Delta. Every one of them has been a nerve-wracking experience and sometimes it’s turned to disappointment but also sometimes it’s become elation

How do you choose your titles? A lot of songs, sometimes poetry. Sometimes just words that feel like they fit.

Do you outline? Sometimes. I outlined SPtF and stuck to it. I outlined RTtR, and outlined it again, and again, and again... Wraiths and Etched both got sort of outlined halfway through. Dead Water and Digging Up Bones were unplanned in every way, as was Delta. I don’t outline one-shots, but I did draw up a timeline for Fifteen Christmases because it’s so vast, and now when I’m writing Tinder things I refer back to FC as a sort of base text so I know where I am in the timeline and what I can and can’t talk about.

How many of your stories are…

*complete? Afaik, all of them. So 322 on AO3, 304 on FFN.

*in-progress? I don’t think there are any? Unless I missed any which I admit is highly possible.

Coming soon: I need to edit and properly post that short SPtF sequel. I have mentally played with the nextgen a bit for it, but I don’t think I’ll do anything with them, though you bet I have headcanons about little Christopher John. Other than that, there is a Tinder thing I need to edit, another Tinder thing in progress if I ever get back to it, and one more Tinder thing I’d like to do. After that I really am done, unless I come out of retirement just to write Sorelli as a socialist in Dublin Artane in 1977.

Do you accept prompts? Sometimes. I reblog prompt sheets but I usually only get one or two off them, if that. I have pretty much a 95% clearance rate, I think, though it may take me more than a year to actually get to it, which is how Dead Water happened. I very much enjoy prompts, especially slightly unusual ones or ones that I can twist into something historical and a bit out there. I found writing E/C all the time extremely exhausting and most prompts will be E/C which is where that other 5% comes in, but for non-E/Cs ones I’m always willing. And ofc E/C as part of an OT3 is always extremely welcome

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: Nothing really in particular...unless I come out of retirement just to write Sorelli as a socialist in Dublin Artane in 1977, a possible OT3.

Tag five authors to answer these questions as well: @rscoil @hopsjollyhigh @maze-zen @convenientalias

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Straight Boy

Part 4: love

Rated: M

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1739

Chapter: 4/4 [All chapters]

Read on AO3

AN: Prepare for pure tooth rotting fluff :)

Tagging: @jeansjeansjeansjeans

———————————————-

“Tyrannus.”

My eyes open slightly. It takes awhile to get my brain back online and realise Baz has said something. Neither Baz or I have spoken in at least an hour. He’s sitting upright in my bed while he reads, and he’s always laser focused on his books. I don’t mind. I’ve been happily wrapped around his side like a smitten boa constrictor. It’s one of the many things I’ve found I love doing with Baz.

I lift up my head a bit from Baz’s side. Baz is looking ahead, glasses on his head, book still open. His expression doesn’t show anything, which can actually show more when it comes to Baz.

“What?” I whisper, voice scratchy from disuse.

Baz closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “My first name, it’s Tyrannus.”

My brain is still in sleep-mode, so it takes me some extra time to process exactly what he’s saying. But slowly, a grin spreads across my face. I feel giddy, like I’m I’ve been given keys to an entire warehouse filled with scones. “Seriously?”

Baz nods slowly. His face is still neutral, but I can see his fingers nervously drumming on his book cover. “Yes.”

“Your full name is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch?”

He sighs, head tilting back against the wall with his eyes closed. “Yes.”

I burst out into loud, snorty laughs. I laugh so hard my stomach hurts. I have to muffle the noise somewhat in his silk pyjama shirt. This is the most I’ve laughed at anything. Which is ridiculous but I can’t stop. Baz sighs again and strokes my hair.

“Get it out, Snow,” he says, both exasperated and amused. “Knew you’d appreciate this.”

“You really are, a gothic romance villain!” I sputter.

“Yup. I should be living in a decrepit castle with an unkindness of ravens, I know.”

I lift my head up as I wipe a laughing tear from my eye. “Where the hell did a name like that come from?”

Baz grunts, something I think he’s picked up from me. “It’s a Pitch family name. My mother insisted upon it. But no one calls me bloody Tyrannus, obviously.”

“Obviously.” I shimmy up his body, resting my chin on his bony shoulder with one leg still thrown over his. “Why are you telling me now?”

He puts his book down so he can wrap his strong arms around my torso. His smirk is unbelievably smug. “Have you ever heard of not looking a gift horse in the mouth, Snow?”

I roll my eyes. “Well, yeah. I’m just confused. I’ve been asking about your name on and off for months and you’ve always said no. So, why now?”

“Well,” Baz sighs, “I don’t like telling people my name because it’s ridiculous, but I knew you would thoroughly enjoy it. So I thought, ‘what’s a better six month anniversary present than making Snow laugh his beautiful arse off with my stupid name?’”

My brow pulls together. “What? It’s not-”

“Look at the clock, love.” He tilts his chin behind me. I twist around, and lo and behold, the clock reads 12:07 in glowing red numbers. It’s officially been our six month anniversary for seven minutes. I turn back to him with a huge smile and full heart.

“You sap,” I whisper. “And here I thought you were just going to make me breakfast.”

“Oh, I’m still doing that.” He dances his fingers up my back, bursts of sensation exploding across my skin. “I was thinking cherry pancakes and chocolate milk, because you are actually twelve.”

My stomach is grumbles instantly, and Baz snickers. Ugh, I adore him, but he’s such a bastard. I poke his shoulder with more force than necessary. “Keep talking like that and you won’t get your anniversary present.”

His face is unbelievably smug, lip quirked and thin eyebrow raised. “Oh? And that would be such a loss for me?”

I narrow my eyes. Oh he wants to be like that, huh? I smile and use one leg to grind down on his crotch, hard. Baz yelps and jolts like he’s touched an expose wire, clinging to me so hard I can feel his nails through my shirt. He glares at me with his razor sharp grey eyes, and I put on the biggest shit eating grin I can.

“Yes,” I purr, “you certainly would.”

“Bastard,” he grumbles.

“Aw, harsh words, Tyrannus.”

He groans, letting his loll back as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to regret telling you, aren’t I?”

“Maybe. But...” I throw my legs over him, full on straddling his waist with arms draped across his shoulders. “I’m glad you did. Thanks for telling me.”

His face melts. I love when it does that. Every bit of muscle tension just fades away, replaced with simple calm happiness. He holds my waist, pressing us chest to chest. “You’re very much welcome, love. I’m happy to tell you anything.” Baz puts a strand of hair behind my ear and traces my jaw with one callused finger. That still makes me shudder. “I trust you, Simon.”

Damn. Six months later, and he still makes my heart melt into a goopy puddle. I smile as I lean down to kiss him. He kisses me back, and we fall into a familiar rhythm. His cool lips fit into mine like they were made for each other. My hands bury themselves in his soft hair. He runs those amazing callused violinist fingers across the small of my back. We know each other so well now, even better than before if that's possible. I tug on his hair just right to get him to moan into my mouth. And he reciprocates by digging his nails into my skin, pushing a gasp and shudder out of me. Fuck, I adore him, I’m crazy about him, shit, I-

“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth.

Baz’s whole body freezes up. He pulls away from my lips with a wet pop, head almost slamming against the headboard. His pupils are huge in his wide eyes. He’s holding on to my hips with a death grip. We’re both panting, our heavy breathing loud in the night quiet room. Fuck. He looks so freaked out. I’m absolutely panicking. My heart is beating like a rabbit’s. I look down at the mattress.

“S-Sorry,” I say quietly. “I didn’t chew my words. That was impulsive. It just slipped out. D-Don’t feel like you have to say it back. I-”

“Do you mean it?” His voice is small, like a hopeful child. I look up again. His eyes are still wide. And his swollen red lips are slightly parted. It’s unbelievably distracting, which I don’t really need to be right now. I gulp down the lump in my throat. I may say stuff impulsively, but I wouldn’t lie about this.

I meet his eyes and nod slowly. “Yeah, I do.”

Everything happens far too fast. Suddenly, I’m flipped over on my back and pressed into the bed by the most intense kiss of my life. It makes my head spin, my toes curl, and stars explode behind my eyes. Baz keeps one hand on my face and the other over my heart. This kiss is even more all consuming than the one at Hampshire those many months ago. I feel like I’m about the melt into the mattress and through the floor until I hit the core of the Earth. And I’d be fine with it, because I’d die by Baz kissing me.

He finally pulls away. It takes us both far too long to catch our breaths. Baz keeps our foreheads and noses touching. He runs his bony finger over my cheek again and again. Even that is too overwhelming to let me to speak.

“I love you,” Baz whispers. “I love you so much, Simon. God, I've loved you almost since we met.”

All the air instantly leaves my lungs. I pull him down for another world stopping kiss. Our mouths move fervently, my hands clinging to his hair, him gripping my face. It’s like we’re over eager teenagers snogging in the back of a car. And I love it. I love him, so fucking much.

We separate when the unfortunate need for oxygen takes over. Baz hugs me, crushing us together, smiling against my cheek. “I thought I’d say it first,” he whispers playfully.

I laugh and wrap my arms around his back. “Well, I’m just full of surprises.”

His breathy laugh hits my face. “That you are, love.” Baz kisses just under my ear. Affectionate sap. ”Happy anniversary, Snow.”

“Mm.” I squeeze him even tighter. “Happy anniversary, Tyrannus.”

“Arsehole,” he grumbles. “Why do I love you again?”

“Because I’m nice and cute and really good in bed.”

Baz makes a dismissive noise. “I’d say adequate at best.”

I pinch his ankle with my toes and attempt to knee his stomach, but I don’t have enough room. I just sort of tap it, which makes him chuckle. “Bastard!”

“You love me,” he purrs.

Damn, he’s right. I love this stupid, teasing arsehole. So I kiss him again. We snog and laugh, rolling around my bed like idiots. I don’t know what we’re doing. Just tumbling and trying to grope every part of each other we can, it seems. Whatever. I’m having fun, with the man I love. Bloody Hell, I’m going to love calling him that.

There’s a banging on the other side of the wall, making Baz and I separate.

“Would you two keep it down?!” Penny’s voice is muffled, but I know she’s shouting. “It’s the middle of the night, you horny arseholes!”

“Give us a break, Pen!” I shout back. “It’s our six month anniversary and we’re in love!”

“Good for you! Shut up!”

Baz and I giggle together, still completely wrapped up in each other. He shimmies down and tucks his head under my chin, arms wrapping snug around me. He likes doing that, even though I’m shorter. He likes being close to me too.

“I love you,” he whispers against my chest.

I hold him tighter and nuzzle against his soft hair. I may have taken a strange journey of introspection and heteronormativity to end up here, but it was worth it. To be with Baz. Incredible, kind, gorgeous Baz. I’m so glad I met him. I’m so glad I fell in love with him.

“I love you, too.”

———————————————-

AN: So I finished this fic, then realised the whole "Baz's first name" was never resolved. I couldn't think of any way to integrate it in naturally, so here's this. Also wanted them admitting their love for each other. Baz and Simon deserve to confess their love in any universe! Thank you for all so much for your kudos, likes, comments, and reblogs. They mean the world to me. You guys always make me smile :)

So I've got a couple more requests to get through, but I'm also working on my big bang, so idk if I'll finish them/post anything new before January. But I'll always been reblogging snowbaz shit on here, so stick around for that haha. Thank you all again. Hope you enjoyed this ridiculous fic! :D