#both poetry and actualizing my Many fic ideas

[stardvstbby]

this is so lovely, thank you for this post 💕

Hey, Writers! Hype yourselves up!

If you see this post you are hereby obligated to tell me in the replies and/or tags what you believe your strengths as a writer are! Go off! For this post, we’re tossing that imposter syndrome in the bin!

[undressrehearsal]

a bite of luxury

summary: you decide to look for a sugar mommy and stumble across this strange girl that seems to have more to hide

tags: sugarmommy!ellie, rich!ellie, vampire!ellie (yep, we got it all) alcohol, reader is poor lmao, reader uses she/her and is referred to as a girl once or twice, no smut in this one sorry gotta establish the world first

word count: ~8k

a/n: it's been so long since i posted a fic lol working full time and trying to finish my book is killing my schedule BUT i hope y'all like this this was my fiancee's idea and i'm running with it i got a LOT of plans for this one - plans i think y'all are gonna love

also the drawing in the cover is made by @nramv seriously go check out their work they're so talented!!

if you wanna be added to my tag list just lmk!

You hadn’t been searching for a sugar mommy. 

Truthfully, when your best friend had sent you the link, you had dismissed it immediately. She had been joking about it for months, talking about how much easier it would be if you just found a nice older woman to take care of you. You hadn’t even opened the link - you only rolled your eyes, replied with a middle finger emoji, and left it at that. 

And yet things kept piling up. The stack of bills on your kitchen counter was growing to a concerning height, a mountain of unanswered responsibilities that was getting harder to ignore. Your landlord kept calling you - you no longer answered, just watched the phone ring until it finally stopped and ignored the increasingly angrier voicemails. Your apartment was an absolute disaster; you could never be bothered to clean it, because by the time you got home from working both of your jobs, you only had enough energy to eat a bowl of leftovers and promptly pass out in bed. 

The link kept popping up in your mind, each bill in your mailbox a gentle reminder. You found yourself scrolling all the way up the text chain to find it again during sleepless nights. So many times you would only stare at it, your thumb hovering over the blue letters, before you closed the chat and threw your phone down. 

It was stupid, of course. But as time went on, the idea of letting yourself get buried alive under a mountain of debt - of getting evicted from your apartment and having to crash on your friend’s couch - seemed all the more stupid. 

So, late on a Thursday night, after you had had another anxiety attack staring down at your bank account, you went back up the text chain, and you clicked the link. 

www.seeking.com

It didn't take long for the messages to start coming in. You should have been flattered, honestly - you had at least a handful of people in your messages practically begging you for the honor of paying your fucking rent - but you really just felt like you were playing a part that you hadn't even read the script for. You had curated your profile with all the things that made you appear more cultured than you actually were: going to museums and pondering over Baroque art and reading poetry over a pretentious cup of coffee. Sure, these were all things you had done - you had photo proof, after all - but somehow you didn't recognize yourself. It felt like you were looking at pictures of a stranger living a life you wanted but couldn't reach. 

Most people were fine - charming, even. You got maybe one or two that felt like they would lure you into their sex dungeon to murder you, but that was expected with any dating site. You even went on a few dates, scrounging up the nicest dress you owned and getting pampered at a five-star restaurant or going for a ride on an older woman’s personal yacht. One person even took you for a helicopter ride, which was fun but she was a little too handsy on the first date to warrant a second. 

One name kept popping up though, a name that was becoming far too familiar in your notifications. 

ellie: meet me at 8 <3 

When she first messaged you, you had thought she was like you: somebody searching for a partner to pay their bills. Her pictures didn't exactly scream sugar mommy material. Her first picture was just a normal selfie taken outside; she wore a worn out leather jacket, her short hair tangled from the wind and green eyes squinting in the sunlight. She had stupid pictures of mushrooms and candid shots of her browsing a science museum, looking far too excited in front of a t-rex skeleton. Hell, in most of her pictures she looked like she was wearing clothes she had found at a thrift store.

You had thought she was like you, until she sent you a picture inside her fucking Rolls-Royce. 

“Fuck,” you audibly cursed into the quiet of your room. You had been talking for a few days, and she had begun to do that - sending you small selfies throughout the day. In the last one, she had taken a picture in front of the mirror at the gym, flicking off the camera, her lean muscles glistening with sweat. Before that, it had been a blurry picture of her dog, Riley - a huge German Shephard - splayed on her back at a park, leaves stuck in her fur. 

So, yeah, when you found out Ellie was not only rich, but rich enough to casually have a Royce, you were more than a little surprised. 

The selfie was cute, you couldn’t deny that. Her hair was wind-swept, catching in those long ass eyelashes. Ellie’s nose was scrunched up, freckles popping against her cheeks, holding up a peace sign. 

She was fucking adorable and you already knew it. But seeing her worn out leather jacket and messy hair against black and white leather seats that looked like they, alone, cost more than your entire apartment complex combined - it was a little jarring. 

And when she asked you out on a date soon after - after finding out she wasn’t Iike you but rather searching for someone like you - how could you say no? 

Ellie offered to pick you up - like a gentleman, she had said - but frankly, you weren’t quite convinced yet that she wasn’t some blood-thirsty pervert trying to lure you into her dungeon, so you politely declined. Instead, in your nicest dress and heels you hardly wore because they pinched your toes, you called an Uber. 

You had never been to this side of town. You had plugged in the address Ellie gave you - had double and triple checked it while your awkwardly chatty Uber driver tried asking you about what you do for a living - but the streets here were so unfamiliar you may as well have been in another city. You looked at the foreign buildings rising up around you, large windows giving you a glimpse of the life inside them. People were sitting outside in the chilly air, laughing over wine and dinner. Looking at them - with perfectly sculpted hair and clothes you would have to spend several entire paychecks on - you felt like a cheap impersonator dressed up in a costume. 

The Uber pulled up in front of a hotel, and your heart stopped. Surely, this wasn’t where Ellie had sent you - leading you to some fucking hotel room when you hadn’t even met yet? 

You turned to the driver, your home address at the edge of your tongue, when the car door opened. 

You had practically been leaning against the door to peer out the window, and nearly lost your balance when it was suddenly gone without warning. You looked up, ready to yell at whatever pretentious prick in Prada was trying to fuck with you - but your voice died in your throat. 

Ellie was shorter than you thought she'd be, honestly. In all her pictures, she had this commanding energy, like she would tower over you in person. 

Which, to be fair, she was. She had her arm propped on the doorframe above your head, leaning over so she could meet your eyes. Her hair was pushed back from her face, a few stray strands falling over her forehead, and she was looking at you with an intensity that hadn't quite translated through her pictures.

Ellie smiled - that adorably crooked smile you had seen in all her selfies - and said, “Hi.” 

And the only word you were able to get your mouth to form was, “Fuck.” 

Ellie blinked at you for a moment - long enough that you could feel the flush creeping up your neck and were ready to walk home if you had to - before she finally laughed. That wasn’t like what you had expected either; she had this deep, rough laugh, almost like she was trying to hold it in. 

She looked up at you through her lashes - you tried to ignore the way your heart inexplicably skipped - and said, “I’ll take that as a compliment?” Her voice tilted up at the end like it was a question. Ellie ducked her head down further, looking past you to meet the driver’s eyes, and pulled cash from her back pocket. With her most charming smile, she handed it to the driver and said, “Thanks for getting her here safe.” 

You didn’t see how much money she gave him, but after she took your hand and guided you out of the car, you turned back just in time to see his grin before he sped off. 

“Thanks for coming out.” You looked back at Ellie and found yourself speechless once again. (You, thankfully, were able to hold in the expletive this time.) The worn out jacket that had featured in just about all of her pictures was missing, replaced instead by a pristine, white satin shirt, the top few buttons undone to expose a sliver of collarbone and a gold chain beneath. Despite the chill in the air, she had a classy black jacket hanging from her arm as though it were an accessory. Ellie smiled and looked down, licking her lips before saying, “You’re quite the sight for sore eyes.”

You tried to smile at her but found that your eyes kept flitting behind her, looking at the looming monstrosity of the hotel. It was a nice hotel - the kind that had a huge fountain right in front of it and a chandelier in the lobby that sparkled through the window - but it was a hotel nonetheless. Despite the set in your jaw, traitorous tears stung the corners of your eyes; you wanted to kick yourself for actually thinking that Ellie might be different. 

Ellie followed your gaze over her shoulder, her smile dropping, before she quickly turned back to you with panic in her eyes. She stumbled over her words as though her tongue weren’t cooperating: “Shit, I’m sorry, this looks really bad doesn't it?” She grimaced and squeezed your hand she was still holding, scratching awkwardly at the back of her head with the other. “Fuck, this isn’t the first impression I wanted. I could promise it's not what it looks like, but maybe it'd be better if I just showed you?”

You honestly did think about telling her to fuck off. She was a complete fucking stranger that you only really knew from a dating app, and she was trying to lure you into a hotel in a part of town you were unfamiliar with - really, only an idiot would follow her. 

But she was looking at you with wide green eyes, the lights around you shining back like stars. While searching for the constellations, you found yourself saying, “Okay.” You blinked, pulled from a trance, and added, “But you should know, I do have a taser in my bag.” 

That pulled a shocked laugh from Ellie’s lips. She gently tugged on your hand, pulling you towards the door, and said, “Smart girl.” 

You knew that the hotel was outside of your price range because a perfectly groomed doorman opened the door for you, waving you inside with a gloved hand. You didn’t take much time to process the interior - the chandelier was just as grand as it had seemed from outside and elaborate columns rose to the ceiling - because Elllie was pulling you towards the elevators. It was like she wanted to ignore the fact that she had brought you to a hotel at all. You couldn’t decide if that was reassuring. 

In the empty elevator, you gently drew your hand back and leaned against the wall opposite her. You tried to ignore looking at the way her pinstripe slacks hugged the curves of her thighs, the fabric straining when she propped one booted foot on the wall behind her. 

“So,” you started in a desperate attempt to fill the awkward silence, “if you’re not leading me into a seedy hotel room on the first date, then what are we doing?” 

“Okay, one,” Ellie said, chuckling, “this is anything but a seedy hotel. And two, what kind of a date would it be if I ruined the surprise?” 

“And what if I don’t like surprises?” you countered. 

Ellie grinned. “I think you’ll like this one.” 

When the elevator doors opened, Ellie held her hand out to you as though it were a question. You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand back in hers and letting her lead you out into open air. 

You nearly choked on a gasp. 

The bar itself was beautiful - fairy lights stretched above your head, twinkling like stars and casting the rooftop in a warm glow. Wooden tables and plush couches were spread artfully around the space, far enough apart to provide the patrons scattered about with some privacy. 

The bar was beautiful - but the view was fucking breathtaking. 

The city stretched out beyond the railings, open in a way you had never seen before. The skyline rose around you, each building shining like its own little galaxy amidst a sea of stars. The city lights blocked out the actual stars - a fact that never failed to piss you off - but you could see the crescent of the moon rising over the city, casting a quiet glow like a veil. 

You looked back at Ellie, and whatever your face held made her grin. She leaned in just enough so that her murmur was for your ears only: “So, was I right?” 

You blinked, momentarily distracted by her proximity - she smelled intoxicating, spicy and warm with a hint of tobacco beneath - before you finally said, “What?” 

Ellie snorted, breaking whatever spell she had put you under. “The surprise,” she said, leaning away enough for your head to clear. “Was I right?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, pursing your lips as though you had to think about it. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the skyline stretched before you. 

You finally said, “That depends on how good the drinks are.” 

When Ellie laughed, her eyes crinkled in the corners, her nose scrunching. It was a full, rich sound, hanging in the air above your head like helium. It made something in your chest tighten, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. 

She squeezed your hand, a twinkle in her eye, and said, “The old-fashioned's to die for.” 

You pursed your lips again to hide your smile.

Ellie didn’t bother checking in with the host, simply shot her a smile and a wave as you walked by - you tried to bite back a giggle when you saw the host’s face turn red, her eyes tracking Ellie as she led you to a table right along the edge of the railing. She pulled the chair out for you - “Such a gentleman,” you laughed - before taking the seat opposite you.

As she waved over a waiter, you took a moment to lean your head over the railing. It was made entirely of glass, giving you a clear view of the city below. You could hear the distant sound of traffic, cars racing below you like shiny beetles, but it was like it was coming from a different world altogether. Everything seemed impossibly, wonderfully small from up here. 

You looked up at the sound of your name to find a groomed waiter wearing a fucking waistcoat standing before you. Ellie was looking at you with laughter in her eyes, her lips twitching. 

“Shit, sorry,” you said, immediately flinching at your own curse. You suddenly couldn’t remember the proper etiquette in a fancy bar, feeling out of place and underdressed even in your nicest outfit. You looked between Ellie and the waiter, wracking your brain for any kind of drink that wasn’t a trashy cocktail you’d find at a dive bar. 

Seeing you floundering, Ellie gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Do you like wine?” 

Relief washed over you as you nodded. Turning back to the waiter, Ellie ordered something that you couldn’t even hope to pronounce, charm lifting the corner of her mouth. She spoke to the waiter with the steady ease of familiarity, laughing at some inside joke; you briefly wondered just how often Ellie came to this bar. Surely, a nice place like this - at the very precipice of the world, looking down at the stars - wouldn’t be a regular stop on anyone’s schedule, but Ellie and the staff spoke like old friends. 

When the waiter left, tussling Ellie’s hair playfully, she turned back to you and the awkwardness of a first date finally set in. Sure, you had been texting Ellie every day for a week now, but you still hardly knew the girl. You knew she liked mushrooms and hiking. You knew that most of her clothes were from the thrift store even though she could afford any designer brand she wanted. You knew her favorite video game was Dishonored. But nothing you knew was enough for a relationship. 

But you weren't exactly looking for love, were you? 

After a moment of silence, Ellie cleared her throat, looking out over the city. “It's nice out here.” 

You snorted before you could stop yourself, covering your mouth; it didn't cover the laughter in your eyes. You said, “You're really talking to me about the weather?”

Ellie opened her mouth, an indignant sparkle to her eye, before shutting it again. It was like she was malfunctioning, opening and closing her mouth yet no sound came out. She furrowed her brows, looking at you as though you were something new and interesting, before finally chuckling, looking away. “Yeah, I-I guess I am.” When she looked back up at you, her eyes were surprisingly sheepish. “Not making a great first impression, am I?”

You couldn't stop the smile that crept up to your eyes. You leaned closer, propping your chin in your hand, and said, “I think you're doing okay so far.” 

Ellie laughed that wondrous laugh again, her nose scrunching up, and the cord in your shoulders loosened. 

“Okay,” she sighed, her eyes still alight with residual laughter. “Okay, damn. Tell me about yourself.” 

“Well now this just sounds like a job interview.” 

Ellie threw her hands up in mock frustration, trying to stifle her own grin. “Okay, fuck, knock me down again! You're obviously an expert, so show me how it's done.” 

She leaned back and crossed her arms, looking at you expectantly, and it was the perfect moment for your drinks to arrive. Ellie did, in fact, order an old-fashioned. The waiter set two wine glasses on the table, producing a bottle seemingly from thin air. He held it out, explaining to you in rehearsed prose the year, acidity, and complexity in words that passed straight through you. You nodded along even as you didn't process a single word he said. 

When he left, you turned back to Ellie and said, “How did you find this place?” 

Ellie took a sip of her drink. The lights of the city danced in the amber glass. “Just an old haunt of mine, I guess.” 

You took a sip of the wine, taking the distraction. It was warm on your tongue, tasting of wood and fruit and something spicy just underneath. The wine you usually drank was the stuff you could find in your nearest grocery store, often tasting concerningly like bug spray and bought with whatever tips you had managed to scrape together from work. It was usually shared with a friend on your kitchen floor, the walls and thoughts spinning over your head. 

You much preferred wine like this: The taste of warmth and fire on your tongue, the cool air brushing your shoulders at the edge of the sky, and a beautiful person sitting across from you.

When Ellie lowered her glass, you could see amber droplets of whiskey clinging to her lips before her tongue darted out to catch them. You tore your eyes away, but her smile said that she had caught you staring. A chill ran up your spine that you were sure was just from the cold. 

Seeing you shiver, Ellie wordless reached behind her where she had tossed her jacket over the back of her chair. Standing, she rounded the table only for a moment, only long enough to place the coat over your shoulders. Her hands lingered there for a second too long before she retreated, sliding back into her seat as though she had never moved. 

“So, why are you here?” she finally said. 

You pulled the jacket around your shoulders, distracted by the smell of it. The same smell that must be her perfume clung to it, spiced and warm like an open fire, but something else clung to the fabric too. It was strangely metallic, sharp and intoxicating, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was shockingly warm against your skin. 

“I’m here,” you said, raising a brow and ignoring her real question, “because you sent me this address and told me to meet you here at eight wearing my nicest dress.” 

The corner of Ellie’s lips quirked, a grin she was trying to hide. She clasped her hands, leaning across the table so you could smell the whiskey on her breath. “And you agreed to meet a stranger at a seedy hotel,” she murmured, mocking your remark from earlier. Her grin revealed itself when your cheeks flushed. “But why are you here - what are you seeking?” 

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s kind of a dumb question, don’t you think? It’s pretty obvious why I’m on the app.” You cocked your head, leaning across the table, feeling a strange thrill when her eyes flashed. Your heart fluttered at the proximity, and you couldn’t remember when you had become so easily starstruck. “The real question, Ellie, is why are you?“ 

Ellie’s eyes darkened, and you weren’t sure if you just imagined her eyes flicking down to your lips. She looked back up at you through her lashes, her voice rough when she said, “That’s a third date kind of question.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. “What makes you so sure you’ll get a third date?” 

Ellie tilted her head, a slow smile pulling at her lips, and said, “Call it a hunch.” 

The waiter came to check on you, appearing at your shoulder like a ghost. You hastily retreated, leaning back in your chair as though the electricity in the air had shocked you, and took a sip of wine that was more than a little overzealous. You tried to choke it down as Ellie waved the waiter away with that heartstopping crooked smile. What happened to you? Since when were you so easily charmed by freckles, green eyes, and smart-ass comments? You couldn't remember the last time you had been so infatuated during a normal date, let alone one with these kinds of strings attached. 

“So you don't want to be in an interview,” Ellie said once the waiter was out of earshot. “I guess all my typical getting to know you conversations are out of the question.” 

“I didn't say that,” you countered, your throat still burning from your accidental wine waterboarding. “But come on - what girl are you going to impress by asking her questions like ‘Tell me about yourself,’ or ‘Why are you here?’ or ‘Why are you more qualified for this position?’”

“Okay, okay, goddamn,” she said, laughing. Grabbing the wine bottle, she looked at you for permission before pouring you another glass.

You brought the glass up to your lips, taking a sip to hide your smile. The flush in your cheeks was surely from the wine and nothing else. “What about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“I hardly know you.” On one hand, that felt entirely untrue - but especially after this recent discovery, you really knew nothing about this girl. “Tell me about you.” 

Ellie laughed that same rough laugh and your heart jumped. “Oh, so you're allowed to be the interviewer.” 

You nodded, twirling the glass between your fingers and looking at her expectantly. 

After a moment, Ellie rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, but you could see the humor in her eyes. She downed the last of her old-fashioned and, like a good sport, said, “What do you want to know?”

Turns out, there was a lot to know - more than a simple dating app would tell you. Ellie had an older sister, Sarah, who lived in Dallas. Her dog was named after her childhood best friend. Her jacket wasn't thrifted after all, but had been her dad's. Speaking of which, she used to go hunting with him every season (“I haven't been in years, though,” she said, her eyes distant). On the weekends, she'd go to antique stores to look for art and trinkets to fill her house - her favorite antiques were from the 17th century. She hated horror movies and was a sucker for a good romance. 

In return, you caved and answered her pressing questions. You told her about your best friend - Ellie laughed when you told her that your friend had sent you the link to the app in the first place. You told her about your favorite show that you binge-watched whenever you felt like you were spiraling. You did not tell her about your apartment that was probably the size of her closet or the fact that you'd have to watch your budget after taking the Uber tonight, not to mention the extra $30 Uber to get home later. You did tell her about your family, and a strange, unexplained sadness crept into the creases around her mouth. You did tell her about your job, but didn't mention the second one you worked to afford groceries. You told her you were hoping for a real, human connection, yet didn't mention that you couldn’t imagine finding it in a fucking sugar mommy. 

All too soon, the wine bottle was empty and your chest was comfortingly warm. The lights strung across the bar danced above your head like fuzzy stars, and Ellie's smile was the brightest amongst them. Her glass was still empty, her wine glass dry, and yet her eyes told you she was intoxicated by something far stronger. 

“Sorry,” you said, giggling despite yourself. “I didn't mean to drink it all.” 

“Don't worry about it, darling,” she said, her voice silky smooth, reminding you of melted chocolate sliding down your throat. She tilted her glass, letting the remnants of melting ice clink against the side. “I wanted to make sure I could drive home okay.” 

The waiter arrived then, pulling the bill from his pocket and handing it to Ellie. You couldn't read the number upside down, not through the haze of the wine, but the number of digits made your stomach clench. Ellie dropped a black card into the folder and handed it back to the waiter. 

“How much do you want me to Venmo you?” you asked when she turned back to you. You clenched your hands in the hem of your dress, already calculating the extra shift you'd have to pick up to afford it. 

Ellie tilted her head, her brows furrowed. “Nothing,” she said, as though it were obvious. 

“That wasn't exactly a cheap bottle, Ellie,” you laughed. “Let me give you something.” 

Ellie hummed, propping her chin in her hand and looking at you with those same intense eyes; it sent a dangerous shiver down your spine. “I like when you say my name.”

You blinked at her. “Excuse me.” 

“I want to hear it again. That's how you can repay me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ellie, I-” 

“Okay, now we're even,” she interrupted, smiling that crooked grin that you had started to crave. The waiter returned with her card and Ellie produced cash from her pocket, handing it to the waiter directly. He thanked her profusely before making his exit, grinning. When Ellie looked at you again, you were still watching her expectantly, dumbfounded. She finally rolled her eyes. “Seriously, what kind of date would I be if I made you pay?”

“You're not making me, I'm offering.” 

“And I'm saying no.” Ellie stood, straightening her shirt; when she tugged at it, the collar fell a bit, exposing sharp collarbones beneath. 

Rounding the table, she offered a hand to you, pulling you gently to your feet. You pulled her jacket tighter around yourself, knowing you needed to give it back yet unwilling to part with it just yet. 

Taking your arm, Ellie leaned in close enough that your breath caught in your throat and said, “I know why I found you on Seeking, okay? So, if it's alright with you, let me spoil you. Even if that just means one bottle of wine.” 

You laughed, but it sounded breathy even to your own ringing ears. “One very expensive bottle of wine.”

Ellie shrugged, a sparkle in her eye. “It's a small price to pay for your company.”

You were silent in the elevator, but you held on to her arm as though afraid to let go. You couldn't figure out why, but something in you urgently wanted nothing more than to be close to her. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt such a pull from somebody. 

Back on the street, the lights of the city seemed so much brighter than they had before. Ellie released your arm, turning to face you, and there was a strange pinch between her brows that you couldn't translate. 

“Do you want me to call you an Uber, or do you want me to take you home?” she asked, and your brain short-circuited. When you could do nothing but stammer, tripping over your own tongue, Ellie laughed. There was no mockery behind it, only quiet, bright amusement. “I meant I can drive you to your apartment so you don't have to drunkenly sit in an awkward Uber that smells sickeningly sweet and the driver tries to make mind-numbing small talk.” 

Your sigh of relief came out more like a laugh. 

Ellie tilted her head and stepped closer to you, her hand reaching out to graze your fingers, and that sigh was sucked right back into your lungs. Being so close to her made your head spin. Her breath fanned against your cheeks, smelling of warm whiskey, when she said, “Unless you want to come to my place?”

It had the uncertain tilt of a question, and Ellie wouldn't quite meet your eyes. 

“We don't have to do anything,” she continued in a rush. She scratched anxiously at the back of her head, a nervous laugh slipping between her lips. “We can just sit and talk more. Or watch a movie - my dad had this huge collection. I'm not gonna - You know, I'm not going to do anything you don't want.” She finally interrupted herself with a groan, rubbing a hand over her eyes. “Fuck, sorry, I wanted it to sound more suave than this.” 

And you would be a fucking idiot to go home with this impossible stranger. You had been taught better - never get into a stranger's car, and for the love of God, never let them take you to a second location. You could let her take you back to your apartment at least - you were admittedly incredibly tipsy and didn't particularly want to endure another ride with an annoyingly talkative Uber driver. You could go home, back to your claustrophobic, quiet apartment, and maybe - maybe - text  Ellie about setting up a second date. 

You were not stupid enough to go home with somebody on the first date. 

Except clearly you were, because you took the hand that was still grazing your fingers and looked up at Ellie - the contours of her face were shockingly etched with insecurity. And your dumb mouth said, of its own volition, “Okay.”

You had expected something flashy, like what a wealthy person would own in a movie - like a penthouse overlooking the city with too-white walls and electric guitars hanging, unused, on the walls. Maybe she had walls completely made of windows so it felt like you were on a pedestal overlooking the world. 

You hadn't expected a house that was older than your great-grandparents. 

When Ellie pulled into the driveway, you were sure she was just pulling in someplace to turn around, that she had missed her turn somewhere. But she put her stupidly-expensive car into park and killed the engine, shooting you an awkward glance. 

“Sorry,” she said, chuckling. “I know it’s not much.” 

You could only look at her incredulously, speechless, before looking back up at the house before you. You couldn’t even call it a house really - estate would be more fitting. Maybe mansion. Fuck, her house was the size of your apartment complex. It towered over you, three stories of intricate woodwork, warm brown beams wrapping around the structure like an elaborate skeleton. With beautiful eaves winding around the roof and an entire turret reaching for the moon, it looked like something that had stepped right out of some 1800s southern gothic novel. 

Ellie cleared her throat, startling you from a trance. You looked back at her and, for some reason, couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

”Shit, sorry,” you said, covering your mouth with your hand. “I just - I’ve just never seen anything like it.” When Ellie’s eyes clouded over with uncertainty, you added softly, “It’s beautiful. Besides, Ellie,” you added, laughing again, “‘not much’ doesn’t really suit you.” 

Ellie opened and closed her mouth and yet no words came out. She was looking at you again as though you were something interesting - something new and exciting. Nobody had ever looked at you that way before, and the way your heart clenched at the sight was more than a little dangerous. 

Ellie finally smiled, huffing out a laugh - your heart was pretty satisfied with how often you were able to make her laugh - and said, “Do you still want to come inside?” 

And, surprisingly, you said, “Yeah, I do.” 

As Ellie got out, rounding the car to open your door for you, you discreetly checked that the taser was still in your bag. Sure, you had agreed to go home with a practical stranger, but you couldn't be too careful. 

The porch steps creaked as she led you to the door - double doors (of course), with stained glass and twisting vines carved into the wood. When Ellie opened them, it felt like you were transported to a different time on an entirely different world. 

The grand staircase caught your eye first - how could it not? Warm wooden steps covered in a blood red runner, a white banister winding up, those same vines that seemed to be the house’s signature carved into it. You could see a large, stained-glass window at the landing before it curved to disappear to the second floor. Moonlight splintered through the window in broken relief. 

As though in a trance, you wandered further into the house, walking to the fireplace situated right beneath the stairs. The wood stacked neatly inside was cold, untouched by a flame. There was a large mirror set atop the mantle, its gold frame a work of art alone. In the reflection, you could see the flush to your cheeks, and tried to convince yourself it was only from the cold. You still wore Ellie’s jacket, and you pulled it tight around your shoulders, as though it were a shield. 

You watched Ellie’s reflection as she walked slowly towards you, a small smile gracing her lips. She came close enough to touch - close enough that you could feel her cool breath against the back of your neck - and yet she didn’t put a hand on you. 

“There’s a lot more to see than the foyer,” she murmured, the words brushing your skin. “If you still want.” 

And you couldn’t stop your own smile as you turned back to her, your heart skipping at her proximity. “Show me.” 

She took your hand, her fingers shockingly cold, and led you into what must have been her living room - sitting room? Despite the fact that the house felt more like a museum - like you would get scolded for touching anything - the room was surprisingly cozy. A large, plush sectional was situated in front of another fireplace- this one also unblemished. Blankets and quilts were thrown over the couch and the accompanying chairs, leaving this time capsule looking strangely welcoming. 

“Okay, I have to ask,” you said, turning back to Ellie. She was watching you carefully, gauging your reaction with soft eyes, and you lost your train of thought. You opened your mouth but no sound came out; you weren’t sure if that was more or less embarrassing than the several curses you had said earlier in the night. 

Ellie hummed, raising her hand as though she wanted to touch you. She stopped only inches away from your cheek and dropped her hand, saying, “I’m an open book.” 

You had to turn away to collect your thoughts, wandering across the room if just to catch your breath. The opposite wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. You ran your fingers along the spines of vintage classics, an array of science books, and comics, enjoying the irony of seeing Savage Starlight in the middle of all this history. You picked up a copy to keep your hands busy. 

“How, um,” you started, stumbling over your words, “how did you end up here?” 

Ellie hummed again, and you heard her footsteps following you. “Here as in this town, this country, this world? You gotta be a little more specific.” 

You sighed, giving in and turning to look at her. She kept a careful distance, standing a few feet away from you with her hands in her pockets. “You know what I mean, smartass.”

Ellie chuckled, but her eyes had grown distant, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She took a few more steps closer to you, looking at the comic book in your hands. On the app, she hadn’t struck you as the type to get easily bashful, and yet she had proven you wrong a few times already. 

“My family lived here,” she finally said, quiet as a secret. You watched her carefully, jumping at the opportunity to stare at her without those intense eyes looking back at you. Her brow furrowed and she pressed her lips together as though she was in pain, her green eyes shining. “It was just… passed down, I guess? It’s kind of always been here ever since I can remember. I’m not entirely sure when it became mine.” 

You tucked the comic book back into its spot between The Iliad and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You said absently, “How old is this place anyway?”

”It was built in 1816,” she said automatically, as though it were memorized. 

“It’s an awfully big house for just one person.” You looked up at her through your lashes as she stepped closer - close enough that you could smell that same metallic warmth that seemed to cling to her. 

“It is,” Ellie murmured, smiling. She reached out again, and this time she allowed herself to touch you. Her cold fingers brushed against your cheek before she gently cupped your jaw, tilting your head so you’d look at her properly. Her green eyes were downright intimidating. “But I keep good company.” 

You rolled your eyes, yet you couldn’t convince yourself to look away. “Is that what you say to all the girls?” 

Ellie hummed, bracing her other hand on the bookshelf behind your head, and murmured, “No, I don’t.” She pressed in closer, her gaze dropping to your mouth, and you felt like your heart was going to leap from your throat. Ellie huffed out a laugh as though she could hear it pounding against your chest. When her thumb brushed your bottom lip, your lips parted on instinct. She didn’t look away, transfixed on the point where her skin touched your mouth, and you almost didn’t hear her when she said, “Can I?” 

And you had never been the kind of person to kiss on the first date, but she was looking at you with eyes hooded with want, her breath fanning against your cheeks. When she licked her lips, you couldn’t stop your eyes from following the motion. Her lips glistened, parted and plump, looking so impossibly soft. Somehow, past your haze, you heard yourself say, “Yes.” 

Ellie took her time in kissing you. She pressed you back gently, your shoulders pressing into the bookshelf behind you, and touched her nose to yours. She took a deep breath, breathing you in. Her hand was soft against your cheek, tilting your jaw up, and you hardly had to move to finally kiss her. 

Ellie tasted just like she smelled - spicy and metallic, the old-fashioned still hanging on her tongue. Despite the cold of her hand on your cheek, her mouth was impossibly warm, her breath slipping between your lips; it was intoxicating in a way that the wine couldn’t compare to. Her mouth moved against yours, soft and slow as a dance. 

Your hands reached out as though of their own accord, circling her waist and gripping at the slippery silk of her shirt. She pressed in close, crowding you against the bookshelf; you could feel her chest pressing against you, her hips on yours, the line of her body against yours making your head spin. And when Ellie’s tongue pressed against your lips, a gentle request for access, you felt like you’d faint altogether. 

Her tongue slipped between your teeth and you couldn’t stop the breathy sound it pulled from your throat. You could feel that infuriating smile against your lips and suddenly wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. You balled her ridiculously expensive shirt in your hands and pulled her impossibly closer, nipping at her bottom lip, and you wanted to swallow her gasp. 

Ellie pulled away, chuckling, but she didn’t go far. She pressed a kiss to your cheek, her lips trailing down to your jaw, and she could probably feel your pulse jump beneath her tongue. You could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Do you do this often?” 

Her teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear, and it took you a few moments before you could respond. “Do what?” Despite yourself - despite the way your fingers gripped her shirt, your head swimming and an unexplainable want burning in your veins - you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go on a date with somebody I met on an app for sugar babies and go back to their ridiculously old mansion on the first date and-“ 

You cut yourself off. You weren’t sure exactly what was happening, and you were afraid that voicing it would break whatever spell you were under - whatever spell made this impossible woman’s touch feel like lightning. 

But Ellie only laughed, biting at the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “Yeah, that.” 

You shivered against her touch. “No, I’ve never really done this.” 

“Guess I’m just lucky.” 

Ellie kissed you again, only briefly, before she finally pulled away. She was grinning, her eyes sparkling with those same constellations; her face wasn’t even flushed, making you feel embarrassed about your burning cheeks. You were panting, intoxicated from the night and wine and Ellie. Her absence felt like an ache, your body craving the feeling of her lips, her teeth, her hands. You were close to tugging her back in, your hands still gripping her shirt, but she gently untangled herself from you with a laugh. 

“I want to keep going.” She paused, and then emphasized, “I really want to keep going. But you drank an entire bottle of wine, and I’d be kind of a shitty host if I didn’t offer you something to drink at least. Or are you hungry?” 

You were hungry, but it was the kind of hunger that food wouldn’t satiate. Still, you let your hands drop back to your sides, feeling your senses return to you now that they weren’t so tuned into Ellie - how she smelled, tasted, felt. When you laughed, it sounded breathy even to your own ears. “Some water would be nice.” 

“I can do that,” she said with a smile. “Stay here.” She kissed you again, lingering for a few moments longer than needed, before she turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone in this ridiculously old mansion. 

With nothing else to keep yourself entertained, you did a slow lap around the room, eyeing the ironic blend of elegant antiques and silly trinkets that were so obviously Ellie. A cracked ivory trinket box sat on a shelf, intricate flowers engraved into the lid, set right next to a small figurine of an astronaut. Beautiful paintings lined the walls, signatures dating back to 1830 in elaborate script at the bottom, but there were also a few posters littered here and there - bands and video games. 

You walked over to the mantle, your fingers grazing over the marble top. The logs inside were untouched, and you briefly wondered if she’d light a fire soon to chase out the chill of autumn. A small jar filled with guitar picks sat at the corner, and you wondered if she really did have an electric guitar collection hidden around here somewhere. Your foot kicked an empty dog bowl, and yet Riley was nowhere to be found. Maybe Ellie took her to daycare when she knew she’d bring a girl home. You nearly laughed at the idea. 

Atop the mantle, hidden behind pictures of what must have been friends or family - hiking or traveling or laughing in somebody’s backyard - there was another picture frame. It must have fallen, face down so that the picture inside was covered. You reached out, careful to not disturb any of the other frames, and picked it up. You were just going to fix it, set it up next to the others, but something in the image caught your eye. You plucked it from its home, bringing it closer, holding it up to the light to get a better look. For a long time, you couldn’t figure out what you were looking at. Your heart hammered against your chest, your ears ringing, as though your body had figured it out before your brain did. 

It was an old photograph, grainy and sepia, faded and frayed around the edges with age. It was the house, looking just like it did today - the huge windows shining in the sunlight, the intricate eaves and wrap-around porch perfectly polished and new. A family stood on the lawn in front of the house, looking awkward and stiff. Back then, cameras took several minutes to actually capture a photo, so people tended to look a little awkward from trying to hold the same expression for so long. But that’s not what had caught your eye. 

It was a small family - a weary looking dad and his two daughters, looking just a few years younger than you. 

She looked a little different. Her hair was longer, falling in waves around her shoulders. She was definitely a few years younger, and she wore a sweet, full-length gown instead of a worn leather jacket. 

You checked the date in the bottom corner at least five times, but there was no mistaking it. The person in the photo was undeniably Ellie, standing in front of this house in 1816. 

tag list: @macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @peejayurple @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight @hobbybound

[whumptober]

FAQ

Please read this post before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Prompts cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? No. We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

[dbacklot99]

2024 fic roundup game

Can I just create an ask game? said @cheeseplants

Yes!! Thanks to @cheeseplants and anyone else you tagged me.

What fandoms do you write in? Good Omens! Only Good Omens, Forever Good Omens.

How many words have you published in 2024? Ok, including some chapters for an upcoming [redcated] collab, I'm estimating 150k that I actually wrote. Which....isn't much in this incredibly talented fandom BUT was a lot for me.

What is your greatest achievement this year? Getting out there and collaborating!! I talked to artists (y'all are magical and terrifying), I joined the [redacted] project and wrote amazing angst with @gaiaseyes451, @sixbynine-da, @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon, @groovynightstrawberry, and MxThirteen, PLUS more artists, @apocalyptic-scenes & babyrubysoho.

And then kept on writing with a lot of those folks to create some amazing crack - and Lucicrow?

My point is, once you start collaborating, you have no idea where it will take you!

What are your top three fics you’ve written this year? Mirrors (E, WIP but almost finished): Angsty reverse omens AU, but there's a happy ending I PROMISE. With amazing art from @daneecastle and @c0smicdisaster.

Cracked Pepper (E): Utterly absurd birthday crack for @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon. I'm still tickled that I somehow wrote this.

Have We Been Here Before? (E): A one-shot love letter to the fandom (also podfic from the amazing @nosferatini )

What was your biggest pit of despair moment? Hmmm, I got kind of lost in my subplots in the middle of After Heaven. But it worked out and I actually love the ending.

I regularly despair that I will never have enough time to write - or to write as well as I want.

What have you learned? I've gotten some sense of the things I'm ok at. And learning to work on adding descriptions and feelings, not just plot.

Still need to improve my gif game!

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground? I have three historical scenes hopping around, but not fully formed yet...

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out? Yes!! I can't name all of them - and some aren't published yet (looking at you, @on1occasionfork). But some to throw love at:

Saint of Lost Things (E) by @gaiaseyes451. This would have gone on my year's best list, but I'm sneaking it in here. Post S2 angst and redemption is absolute marvel of story telling!

What Have I Lost (M) Another post2S fic, from MarieCuriosity that I can't wait to see how it comes together!

The Show Must Go On (M) A great 1941 follow-up by @vieux-yeux

Lady of Rheged (E): A West Essex historical AU by @mageofthepeople

Seasons of Nightingales (M): A massive, sweet post2S fic from @nosferatini that is almost done!!!

but i still want more (E): An intense but heartachingly lovely postS2 fic from @cordsycords

Confeitor (M): pure poetry from @adverbian

What three fics have you read this year that you love? Lol, 3!!!

Tethered (E): WIP by MarieCuriosity based on a Gleafer prompt

Someone is Calling Him Shorewards (E): by @harlotofupdog. Gah, if you haven't read it yet, what are you waiting for?

Trial & Error (M) by @fellshish. I love everything postS2 and this one was so original!

Anything ginger_cat wrote

Angel-Centered Therapy (G) I thought this was the perfect counterpoint to its big brother (sister?), Demonology.

Rosae series (E) by UKCalico. Sure, it's incredibly hot, but then hits you with these deep insights into the characters and their lives.

If I loved you less, We Could have Coffee (M): The Chapell Roan fic you didn't know you needed; excited to see what happens next! By @spectrallydistracted

Teach me, both the art from @gahellhimself-blog and the fics from Jeans. A really amazing collaboration!

What ideas are percolating for next year? Going to start off with a couple sequels, and then we'll see where the plot bunnies take us.

Who do you want to thank? @goodomensafterdark for endless support and entertainment. Wibly for maps!! @ireallyneedmoretea & @moderndayklutz for being beta rockstars on [redacted]!

Are you somewhere in this post? Should you be? Go on and play the game!

[diamonddaze01]

⋆｡°✩ n o t e : thank you to everyone who tagged me in this ( @sungbeam , @petrichor-han , @haologram)! took me forever to finally get around to it, but excited to share my wrapped for this year!

⋆｡°✩ on poetry and homecomings - yoon jeonghan

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my first ever fic! based on a quote by the fantastic palestinian poet mahmoud darwish. something about the words, "If I ever see a flaw of yours, I'd say my eyes are the flawed ones" made something in my heart twinge in the most beautiful way. a purely self indulgent fic i wrote after an exhausting work week, and suddenly, here we are, 3 months later.

⋆｡°✩ plan b-day - hong jisoo

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my last fic of 2024! a lil drabble for the loveliest boy. no real notes on this, other than i am sure that murphy's law somehow targets me 50000x more than the average human being. again, purely self-indulgent, but also a wonderful way to close out the year.

⋆｡°✩ baby, darling, light of my entire life - choi seungcheol

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : the idea for this came to me after a crazy night out. though i myself have not gotten to this level of drunk yet, i definitely would scream about how pretty choi seungcheol is any day, any time. i was actually shocked when this blew up - it wasn't my favorite piece i'd written at the time, and i woke up one morning and it had skyrocketed from maybe 100 notes to upwards of 600 in one night. weirdly, i think this was maybe the third thing i had ever posted to this blog and it made me so happy that people actually enjoyed my writing. bdlomel, ily <3

⋆｡°✩ full throttle part i | full throttle part ii - yoon jeonghan

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : oh, full throttle, what to say about you (i am combining both parts into one fic - the only reason there are two parts is bc tumblr is a bitch about formatting). there are few things that exhausted me, exhilerated me, enraged me, and made me feel as proud as i do looking at this finished fic. three weeks of non-stop writing every day after work, jotting down notes in the cleanroom and during lunch breaks, and storyboarding when i should have been sleeping culminated in most possibly the pièce de résistance of my year. i had so many people who cheered me on as i wrote this fic, battled through witty banter (that i myself could never say irl) and fiery headlines, but none cheered as loudly as @haologram and @ylangelegy. alta and kae were genuinely the wind beneath my wings as i wrote this, and reading their comments in the doc was what kept me going. in the end, i'm genuinely so happy with how full throttle turned out, and seeing the reactions i'm getting from it make me feel so fulfilled.

⋆｡°✩ the somerset affair - lee seokmin

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my first forray into longer fic writing (and i'm still battling my way through it, but we don't talk about that). if anyone knows me, they know how much of a Bridgerton fan i am - i quote anthony's speech on the daily, and penelope/eloise are some of my fav romcom heroines ever written (until they both get married, but again, we don't talk about that). i felt like writing this fic was my way to pay homage to this fictional world i adore so much. i have a love/hate relationship with the actual tone of the series - its so hard to maintain the regency tone and also write in a way that's true to my own voice, but at the end of the day it's a challenge i relish. i'm so excited to finish this series this coming year!

⋆｡°✩ 40 fics posted - check them all out in my masterlist!

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : to be fair, a lot of these are drabbles i did for my 101 drabble prompt game, but fuck it we ball. maybe i'm just insane.

⋆｡°✩ ~133,470 words written

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : again, i think i might be a bit insane. did a sacrifice sleep to write? yes. did i storyboard at work? also yes. but then again, it's been an interesting year to say the least, and writing was a really good way to blow off steam after a stressful day at work.

⋆｡°✩ some of my fav fics i read this year - please read the warnings on each fic and do not interact with smut if you're a minor! this is in no particular order:

⋆｡°✩ unforgiven [boo seungkwan] - @haologram ⋆｡°✩ catch you when i can [smau] [chwe hansol] - @xinganhao ⋆｡°✩ the first snow [hong jisoo] - @junkissed ⋆｡°✩ what are the vibes? [choi seungcheol] - @daechwitatamic ⋆｡°✩ red card [kim mingyu] - @highvern ⋆｡°✩ an ode to hands and voice [boo seungkwan] - @ddeonghwa-s ⋆｡°✩ take my word for it [yoon jeonghan] - @ylangelegy ⋆｡°✩ prey [choi seungcheol] - @pochaccoups ⋆｡°✩ sit down [kim mingyu] - @gyuswhore ⋆｡°✩ ave, general [lee jihoon] - @amourcheol

these are just a few of my fav fics i've read, but if you want to see all my recommendations - i suggest checking out @diamond-reads !

⋆｡°✩ goals for 2025

⋆｡°✩ on diamonddaze01: i have a lot of collabs coming up in 2025! i hope that i can meet all those deadlines and write things i'm proud of. i've also learned that writing longer fics like full throttle or somerset affair make me feel more fulfilled as a writer, so expect a lot more of them as i further explore my writing style and characterization. i also want to go back to some of my older wips that i abandoned and reopen them, see where i can go with a fresh mindset. ⋆｡°✩ personal goals: i have a lot, but to name a few: read more, laugh more, love more. i also want to focus on establishing a better work/life balance - i know already that the coming months are going to suck at work, but i no longer want to drag the weight of corporate life home with me. work is work, and that's where it will stay. i want to prioritize my mental and physical well-being over all else, and that starts with reprioritizing things like work, my social life, and writing.

⋆｡°✩ final thoughts

⋆｡°✩ i started writing on tumblr because i was stressed from work and felt like i didn't have a community, especially at a new job and a new city. what started as some stress relief turned into a community of its own. i'm eternally grateful that i was able to meet some wonderful people this year that i truly feel a sense of belonging with. to everyone in the networks i'm in, to anyone that reads my work, to all the lovely people i've met: thank you, and i love you.

⋆｡°✩ if you've made it this far, thanks for reading, and thank you for all your support. i love you all endlessly. it's time to sign off for 2024.

with love as vast as the stars themselves, tara <3

⋆｡°✩ tagging (but no pressure): @tusswrites, @chanranghaeys, @bitchlessdino, @ddeonghwa-s , @c-oupsie, @lovetaroandtaemin, and anyone else who would like to do this!

[daydreaming-jessi]

“There’ve been many souls that have come and gone from the flock, some are just more memorable than others.”

Decided to doodle some cultists I’ve come up for in fics, had in my actual game, or a cool idea i came up with on the spot. Oh and Sozo and Webber are here too :D This is by no means the entirety of the cult, and there may be future followers that stand out too, but for now enjoy these guys. Feel free to ask about them I guess lmao

I will be putting down my written notes under a cut since they’re so small and scribbly ^^;

Brother Tyr, head priest, he/him: The Lamb's 3rd closest. Very stressed despite doing his job for 200 years. Tries and fails to be a peacekeeper in the cult. Tyr and Nari argue a lot.

Brother Narinder, head mortician, he/him: Don't piss him off. The Lamb's spouse. Best source of info on the crowns and outside world. Can do any job around the temple and will. When the Lamb isn't around.

Sister Merbre, temple organizer, she/her: Helob loves her. The main reason the temple runs when Lamb is gone. Has a surprising realist view. Everyone loves her. Romantic at heart.

Yeon, general worker, she/her: Has to let loose in demon form or else. Together with Julno. Friends with Narinder. Seeking absolution from her past crimes. 'Encouraged' Narinder to court Lamb.

Tyna, assistant mortician, they/them: Cult's head goth. Runs the slam poetry night. Also does piercings and tats.

Nanaon, retired missionary, she/her: One of the Lamb's most faithful. Insists she's not that old and can still work. One of the few mortals to earn the respect of both Deaths.

Firyn, farmer, he/him: A worker. Great with people and plants. Born after the fall of the Old Faith. Leshy's companion. Doesn't know the horrors yet. People tend to underestimate him.

Pura, general worker, she/they: Likes Firyn. Likes to manipulate things to her benefit. Doesn't like Leshy. Doesn't realize what being an ex-bishop means. Genuinely respects the Lamb.

Almer, refinery worker, he/him: Shamura's friend. Easy going. Wants a big family. A good confidant. Gives great hugs.

Grayden, silk sorter, they/them: Shamura's friend. Quiet but a beautiful singer. A shy pushover, but will snap.

Julno, farmer, he/him: Came with the 'coward' trait. Still scared of the Lamb, and Yeon's 'bestie' Narinder. Together with Yeon. Doesn't know her murderous urges.

Poppy, she/her: Best friends with Webber, youngest of the cult. Brave and tenacious Webber, he/them: Best friends with Poppy, youngest of the cult. Gentle and curious.

Dr. Sozonius, researcher, he/him: Amnesiac. Lamb is helping him find home. Extremely well educated about biology. Does not like the spider stalking him, or the mushroom.

Keeper, record keeper, she/him: Face is always obscured. Hates the Dark. Doesn't talk about his past. Has a strange locket that ticks. Always smells of salt.

Joobre, refinery worker/tailor, he/them: Loves working with silk. Has tea with Berith. Likes gold jewelry.

Thorty, bartender, he/him: Fights with Nari a lot. Short temper. Best with the drunks.

Bregrear, smith, he/him: Quiet. Knows his way around weapons. Old hat at this point. Hopes to retire in peace.

Harbre, smith apprentice/missionary, any pronouns: Hot tempered. Looks up to Bregrear. Married to Bathin, chases off suitors neither of them like. Longs to master their craft. Protective.

Anar, miner/lumberjack, he/him: Distrusting. Hard worker. Doesn't exactly trust the Lamb, but willing to give the cult a shot. Starts fights.

Fun-Gui, researcher assistant, they/them: Weirdly obsessed with Sozo. Self proclaims as his assistant. Other mushroomos don't like them. Always goopy and dripping.

Hajal, traitor, she/her: Left the cult. Status unknown.

[zenkindoflove]

Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: Reveal and Q&A

Before reading this post, make sure you go and read the final update to Dear Lucien, Dear Elain. Under the cut will not only be the reveal of who wrote who, but also a Q&A inspired by some of your questions of the writing process that myself and @crazy-ache took while writing this collaborative fic.

In our poll, you all were evenly split, 50-50, on who you thought wrote Elain and Lucien. Which really tickled us.

Now, to reveal (which maybe you already know if you read the fic lol)....

art by @works-of-heart (thank you so much for putting this together last minute!!!)

So, are you surprised? Validated on your hunch?

We also asked you all what some of your questions were related to our writing process since this was both a collaborative fic and a very unique style (epistolary). It was definitely experimental for us. But we had so much fun writing it. It was really us stretching some of our creative, writing chops. And the epistolary style really was a great medium for writing a collaborative fic together.

Q&A with crazy-ache and zenkindoflove

How did you choose which character to write.

Crazy-ache: I chose to write for Lucien because I felt most comfortable in his head! I had dived deep into his psyche and motivations in a few of my recent works. I also had this vision in my head that Lucien is a very poetic, romantic writer given his rakish and silvertongue ways. My roots in writing are in poetry and I tend to be a flowery, verbose writer, so I felt like I could naturally tap into Lucien’s style. I believe I asked to be Lucien first and had a good inkling that Zenkindoflove had the stronger grasp on Elain’s character. She went above and beyond in giving Elain’s character and development the justice it deserves. 

Zenkindoflove: I was very relieved when Crazy-ache declared she wanted to write for Lucien because as soon as we came up with this idea, I knew I wanted to write Elain's letters. I think she provided the level of poetry and devotion that was necessary to convey in Lucien's letters. For me, I have always been an introspective writer. I like to be inside character's heads and have them actively work through their feelings. And for Elain, this exercise felt like it was an exploration into her working through her feelings for Lucien. Where I think Lucien has always been clear on his feelings for Elain. Or at least he's been sitting with them longer than Elain. I also relate a lot to Elain (and probably project a lot too though I argue that especially in her case where we haven't gotten her POV, authentic writing requires it a bit). I've always felt more comfortable in my other fics writing from Elain's POV.

General process/approach to writing

Zenkindoflove: We decided that the easiest way to write the fic would be to pick a character, stick to that character, and take a ‘yes and…’ approach to writing much like in improv or role playing. We very much treated it like we were the characters and writing each other letters. I would get so giddy when I saw I had mail because it felt like Lucien was actually writing me 😂. After we wrote the first two letters, we came up with a general plot that we wanted to follow once we knew the set up was working. We didn't know how many letters that would entail but we knew that we wanted to try to stay as canon compliant as possible and end on Nessian's mating ceremony where that would be the first time they would talk in person. For topics that were discussed, that was almost entirely unprompted and generally came from us answering each other's letters as the characters. So the emotional development was fairly organic throughout the whole process.

Crazy-ache: Something I want our readers to know is how organic this entire process was for us. What you read from each character is also mostly what we read as well. So we experience the same feelings of giddiness, sadness, disappointment, etc as you did. We just happened to have an idea of where the story was going, but not the words that would take us there on the journey. We truly got inside our respective character’s heads and created this story for you. It’s been one of the most fun, passionate writing exercises I’ve ever participated in, and I hope that rings true in your reading. 

Curious to know if either of you had veto power for when the other wrote something you didn’t like, or how you handled any differing opinions (if you even had any) on what the characters might say. 

Zenkindoflove: For the most part we didn't have many disagreements. A lot of our conversations consisted of us brainstorming or working through the logic of certain situations. The hardest situation to work through was what we did for Starfall. We knew we wanted to have this angsty moment where Elain stands up Lucien because of a vision, but we were working through the logic of how she could accomplish this without Lucien feeling her panic through the bond and coming to find her. That consisted of a lot of back and forths and crazy-ache wanted to make the situation even angstier by having Azriel actually be involved (only flying her away) and it contributing to Lucien's feelings of paranoia that there was someone else! That was the one time I said absolutely not because I didn't want us to go too hard because it was already a gut punch. Also I had to write the letter explaining everything! 😂

Crazy-ache: Yes Zenkindoflove had veto power for that situation and the next day I was like what was I thinking 😂 But it truly was a collaborative experience where we built off each other’s ideas. When it came to the letters, we had no idea what the other would write (other than an overarching plot we had initially agreed upon), but we respected each other’s creative decisions and just went with it! 

I wonder if either of you had a line that the other’s assigned character just had to say. Did you talk about this prior?

Zenkindoflove: Mostly this did not happen except for setting up some plot stuff. Like, hey did you get your Starfall invitation? That kind of stuff. We sometimes gave each other a few edits after reading. Such as if there was something that felt not properly addressed (cause let's be real, these letters got long at a certain point) that we knew would be good for setting up the next letter. Oh, in the beginning, we did have a really hard time thinking of the questions they would ask each other and we often referenced those lists on the internet of like 100 questions to ask on a first date. Those kinds of things hahaha.

Crazy-ache: Agreed, there was nothing we requested or assigned the other character to say in their letter. Everything we wrote was 100% true reaction to what the other person put in the letter. But like Zenkindoflove said, we would give each other small bits of feedback. Like hey, I think it’s little early to bring that up. Or, I think we need more on X. In fact, the line a lot of people seem to really like from Lucien wouldn’t exist if it hadn’t been for Zenkindoflove pushing me for more on one letter. I remember being like ugh you’re right you’re right….and I sat back down and worked on it some more. And I’m so glad she did because that’s when I came up with this line and paragraph: 

"Perhaps the Mother knew we would not be ready when our paths first crossed—our hearts, our minds, our circumstances—and so she gave us this immediate, unbreakable connection to ensure we never lost each other along the way." 

Zenkindoflove: Specifically I remember Crazy-ache holding me back from Elain bringing up the bond too soon which was 100% correct and I was getting too eager. And I pushed her in the end for Lucien to say “love" more since Elain had been using it after her breakdown. Which I think shows a lot of balance in how we approached emotional development.

Favorite letter you wrote?

Zenkindoflove: My favorite was definitely the last letter. It was challenging because I essentially had to write it as Elain telling Lucien events he already knew because he experienced them too. I wanted people reading to get the information they needed to know to visualize how the night went but make it feel like an authentic letter Elain would write. I also got to lean fully into Elain being as romantic as possible about her feelings for Lucien.

Crazy-ache: I am going to cheat and say 2 letters. The majority of my letters were written in one sitting, really emulating what it would be like for Lucien to sit down and read Elain’s letter and then just write his reaction immediately. But the two letters I sat on for a while….1) THE Starfall letter where we learned Elain stood him up and 2) the letter where he responds to her explanation for why. The starfall letter I was just so excited to write because I knew it would catch everyone in surprise. And the response was also exciting because I really, really enjoyed exploring what the bond meant to Lucien. 

Most challenging letter you wrote?

Zenkindoflove: It was definitely the letter after Elain stood Lucien up and she responded to his very angry curt letter. Crazy-ache sent me his letter and I was immediately overwhelmed even though I knew it was coming. I literally could not stand not answering his letter immediately. I just was so upset haha. And then as I wrote Elain’s letter, I had a complete meltdown in messages to Crazy-ache where I cursed SJM for the SF bonus chapter and making me have to explain the almost kiss. I think I said to her, “I feel like I cheated on Lucien but i didn’t!!!!!” Like, I was a mess you guys. Which is probably why it ended up the way it did - this stream of consciousness. I was imagining Elain just utterly broken, crying at her desk, writing the letter frantically, desperate for Lucien and hoping he would still write to her. With her sad little corsage on her wrist. 

Crazy-ache: The hardest one for me was Chapter 6 after Elain reveals Lucien had misunderstood her discomfort to the bond and she sorta calls him out on that. I really tried to get into his head the best I could for these letters--and I imagine hearing Elain say she always had desired him even when it was confusing and complicated would be overwhelming to read. Like the world just shifted for him because that wasn’t what he imagined…and after you have accepted a certain amount of love and affection, it can be even harder to accept more when it is presented to you. I was balancing all these things when writing his response and that would took me the longest to put together. 

Favorite line the other person wrote? 

Zenkindoflove: Crazy-ache is SO poetic in her writing. Especially as Lucien. Choosing one is incredibly hard. I will choose a few but know that I don’t even know if these are really my favorite favorite because so many of her lines were just BEAUTIFUL. 

“I take all matters and concerns regarding your trip very seriously. I will gladly accompany you across the courts, where you can trust I will be unhurried, diligent, and thorough in the pursuit of your greatest pleasures. I simply could not live knowing you were in the slightest disappointed, and will not rest until I know you are quite satisfied.” - the innuendo!!!

“I have done my best to be loyal, dutiful, and honorable. Only to turn around and discover my actions have only proceeded to write me as a villain in their narratives for those very attempts at doing what is right. There are reminders of my arrogance and recklessness every time I look in the mirror. I have certainly paid the price. You deserve to know these facets of me as well, most especially the bitter, pathetic parts of me.” - such a good summary of Lucien’s character and how he sees himself

“To put it bluntly, yes, your mere existence hurt me. Because my soul aches for you in ways I had never known it could hurt. What was painful and difficult was just how badly I wanted to know you beyond all reason and that terrified me. You, my lady, still terrify me.” - PAIN

“Please, I beg of you, to not mourn any fate of mine. I have survived worse possibilities thus far, and that was before you were mine. Before you were my reason to survive, to fight, to live and breathe. There is nothing that can keep me from you.” - THE ROMANCE

“Elain, if the bond is the sun, then you are the warmth of its light.”

“Fire may live inside my veins, but it is your actions and words that have sparked a flame to rival the sun, where I burn and burn and burn for all of you.” 

“Perhaps the Mother knew we would not be ready when our paths first crossed—our hearts, our minds, our circumstances—and so she gave us this immediate, unbreakable connection to ensure we never lost each other along the way. When I told you I wanted an anchor, someone to ground me, the truth is I wanted it to be you.”

All of these - I cry!

Crazy-ache’s favorites: 

“I suppose, I will have to trust in your wealth of experience and your steady hand to guide me through these desires. I would welcome a long, thorough exploration, as my previous travels ended too soon for my liking. So, I think it would please me to spend sufficient time, discovering new sights and experiences, and some clever bouts of spontaneity, to the point that I am tired and sated.” - NOT APPRECIATED ENOUGH 

“You call yourself disfigured, as if your scar could take away from the handsome features of your face or the ethereal quality of your essence. If anything, your scar is a story of a life of loss and daring, adding to the mystery and allure of your draw. I wanted to know immediately who marked you so I could cut out their eye as well. Because when I looked at your face for the first time, I knew you were mine.” - PLEASEE i will never forget elain wanting to cut a bitch

“And the truth, Lucien, is that you have always eclipsed every desire I've had. Since we met, every second that I am awake, and even hours that I am asleep, are touched by you.”

“I refuse to waste another moment that I have not knowing you. Not just knowing you through your words but knowing the way you smile when you tell a joke or the way your arms feel wrapped around me. I want to live in the moment and see what promise this little passenger in my chest has assured me.”

“So Lucien, to put it plainly, I both wanted your distance and I wanted you near.”

“I think we must be forever changed. It’s not only that the distance is gone, but we are different. I think there is no avoiding it, when soulmates finally find each other through the darkness.” - THIS IS MY FAVORITE AHHHHH

[punch-love]

2, 7, 10, 15, 16

greedily takes up five of the options

I'm actually going to answer these for both lokius and spideypool to be fair to what fandom you read for and also to what I'm reading for right now.

2. 🔁 A fic you’ve re-read several times

There's a clear theme in these.

i could show you by jilliancares

I think this was the first real gender-affirming trans porn I had ever read and kept on re-reading. It's so good. It's very hot and I love everything about the smut and the dynamics but it's also just - a trans guy talking about oral sex and his disappointing experiences with it and there's a lot of intimacy in the way that's handled. It's just very real so the fantasy of it is even realer. I have read this one many, many times.

Turnabout loop - Mirilya

The Mobius coochie fic. It's great. I could say that I love the idea of Loki using his magic for shapeshifting his partner in bed and the genderbending of it, which I do. It's also just hot. Objectively. I think there needs to be more fics with this exact thesis of Mobius getting eaten out. I support it.

7. 💯A fic that makes you think #writergoals

morning in the burned house by antivenom

Just a really stunning character study and piece of prose. It's such a complicated, nuanced approach to Wade Wilson as a character and his relationship with Spider-Man. It has my favorite approach to a backstory I've seen for in the fandom. This just really sits with him as a character and explores the side roads and back alleys of his brain and the reason he is who he is. It's beautiful. I think anything that sits with you afterward is something I am inspired by, and this sits with me.

The Shapeshifter's Guide to Butt Stuff by comrade_bucket

I just recommended the first part of this series (and the whole series is #writergoals) but this one is so conceptual, so out there, so fucking weird and strange and beautiful that every time I read it I'm struck at what a piece of art it is. The way this work addresses genderfludity, god-hood, the human experience, love, gender conformity, and compromise is just so wonderful. I would love to write something as strange and shocking and daring as this! Again, both installments of this series including The-Infinity-Year-Old Virgin are both something I love to re-read and also get inspired by every time. The endings on both of these are something I've taken notes on.

10. 👽 A fic that isn’t prose (poetry, text fic, etc.)

I got really into the Wickerman tag the other day and this AMV is one of my favorite things I've ever seen.

Lovely Day (Good as Hell) [Favid] periru3, Tafadhali

hare toss, check my nails, baby how you feeling? feeling good as hell!

15. 📚 A fic you wish you could display on your bookshelf

They're both by the same author, surprise. (I think it's funny that @primewritessmut wrote two masterpieces in my favorite genres.) I also have told them before that I would book bind them both, and I am extra serious about doing it for the second one.

Songs for the Zombie Apocalypse by zerospoons_onlyknives

I love zombies. They're my favorite horror genre and I have read and watched as much of it as possible but it's so rare to find the good stuff because no one goes far enough. (Prime goes farther.) It's dark, demented, violent, gloriously unwell and erotic. It's not a love story, it's something so much more interesting, and each chapter I got to read in advanced had more and more tangled in it. The ending is unbelievably glorious. It was one of those things that I was like "this feels written for me" and it wasn't (and it kind of was) but I enjoyed it so much. It deserves to be bound in a book that looks suspiciously like human skin.

Midori Sour - oprime

This is the hallmark rom-com bait and switch psychological thriller family drama slice of life romance of all time. It's so good. It really has no business being as good as it is. The idea is so fun and the dynamics are great and the setting and side-characters are so lived in but the underlayers of this. I want this book bound so I can just re-read sections and underline the lines that stick through onto the other side. I love this thing so much. It's so human and compelling and deliciously deep. The depth that Prime goes in on with this one is just unbelievable. I love it very much. I would bind it in green leather and put a little fruity drink in the middle of it and highlight the whole thing in a green neon with red on the cherries.

16. 💞 A fic that led to you making friends with the author

I think it's funny that these are both series.

Bad Things - wanderingflame

I was so, so obsessed with this when I first read it. I remember sitting in a car outside a thrift store just binging through it (and then I re-read it at least two times.) I also think @in-my-loki-feels is the first person I have ever asked to write inspired work for (and also, found out we both share the same feelings on inspired work lmao) because I was just so enchanted by this story. It's so fresh, thoughtful, compelling, and just the right hint of dark. Their passion for these characters and the nuanced groves of their natures is just - god, it's so good. We have a very "writers who like each other's work" friendship in a way I really appreciate.

gunpowder triology - periodicallypuzzled

It's rare for me to find a writer with such a personality through their work. I couldn't get enough of this series when I first read it - the humor, the personality, the characterization, the heart juxtaposition with the grit. I don't often say "I really want to know the person who wrote this" but I remember thinking that after reading that. @periodically-puzzled read something of mine and offered to exchange discord handles and after that we became friends. I should also re-read this, now that I'm thinking about it again.

[lizzle-the-edu-nerd]

BibliophiLe accomplishment post!

100 KUDOS?! 🎉🎉🎉

I couldn't even fit that many people in my house.

Enough people like my story that I'd need to throw a party at the park!

Thanks to anyone here who has given me some love on it! You're such a homie!

What's some tid bit of info I could give to celebrate this?

A lot of people who comment say they love the characterization.

Let me pull back the veil on one of those characters:

My husband has ADHD and a bad case of the extroverts mixed with spontaneity.

He is, 100%, my Kaminari.

Before I wrote Chapter 11, I wondered, "Do people actually crash into walls when they're too excited and want to talk to you?" Like Kaminari does when he snags Monoma in the hallway.

That week, my husband was quickly running up the stairs to talk to me, and was so excited he stumbled into the wall.

How else doth my husband exude this Kami's spirit?

- He rode a homemade zipline and broke his foot

- He's jumped over a hedge and misjudged space, twisting his ankle

- He would do all of it again because he says things like, "Jumping is fun!" And "I bet I could make that!" And "I'm going to do a flip on the bed/couch!"

- He owns a pair of adult sized heelies (the shoes with wheels in the heels to roll around)

- He quotes Romeo and Juliet at least once a week, if not more.

- He wants to buy us longboards so we can leisurely skate around the neighborhood.

- His diet has a large portion carved out for candy and cookies.

- He has so many ideas bubbling in his head that sometimes he'll switch topics so many times he'll forget where he started.

- He can get so warm I need to physically push him away cause of that electric body. Legitimately. The guy explodes with heat sometimes.

- He loves Pokemon. (That's just canon people!)

- He had an after school care job with little kids where he actually made up songs for them on guitar. Tiny children love him.

- He can expend so much energy talking that it seriously looks like he powers down, essentially "short circuiting" until he has eaten, relaxed, or both.

- He infamously asked professors in college if, instead of writing essays, he could write poetry. They let him.

Some days, when I was writing, I would just thank him for being my Kaminari.

I hope you like him as your Kaminari too.

If you want to check out my lil My Hero Academia fic with a big heart and an angsty/fluffy slow burn between this guy and Monoma that will warm your soul by the end, check out BibliophiLe!

[antisociallilbrat]

Poly Losers Publicity

This is an idea, a back bone of a fic that I'm never going to write so I'm putting it here. If you want to write it, go ahead. I just need to get these brain worms out of my head. This is from my Poly Losers Au.

So like Richie, Bev, and Bill are all relatively famous? Richie is a famous comedian (who I headcannon him being on SNL at one point in his career) and then you have Bev who is a famous fashion designer? Like her work rivals Gucci and other major fashion brands. Then you have Bill who is like the horror novelist, who always has his books being adapted into movies.

So anyways the public is nosy and wants to know who's banging who. Richie, Bill, and Bev, along with the other Losers have decided to keep their relationship a secret. Yeah being gay/bi is okay but they don't want to have to explain why they're in a relationship of seven people. Bev, Richie, and Bill handle this in many different ways. Bev just deflects any relationship questions in interviews and Richie jokes that he's a whore and no one will date him. (Stan and Eddie give him so much shit over that bit) and Bill,,,poor bb flounders.

Bill likes to dedicate his books to his lovers. Each book he writes has a dedication that says something like: "To my lover who watches the birds", or "To my lover that is sun on earth", and naturally people ask who this lover is in interviews. And Bill just doesn't know how to lie so the general public just thinks that Bill's lover is a multifaceted person who loves to grow plants, bird watches, work on cars, and also writes poetry.

This all works for a while until Bill is caught in public holding hands with Ben. Magazines blow up like :"Is this the lover of many talents?? World Renowned architect Ben Hanscom??" so now they just let the public think Bill is dating just Ben. Also Bill and Richie got an argument over it that went like:

Richie: "This is so not fair, why do you get Ben?"

Bill: "It's not like I was trying to get caught!"

Richie: "Well if you get Ben then I get Mike!"

Bill: "Fine."

Richie: "Fine!"

Bill: "Fine!"

On Richie's next stand up he tells everyone he's dating this cute librarian named Mike and like with Bill, the press eats that up.

But fans are crazy right? Like they had a working theory that Richie was actually dating this high end accountant (Stanley) bc Richie had been spotted with him a couple times at fancy parties. (Stanley is a slut for fancy parties and Richie only goes to the ones he's invited to bc he knows Stan will enjoy it) But some other fans had a theory that Richie was dating high end fashion designer Beverly Marsh. Because Richie only ever wears her clothes on stage or in interviews. Plus they've been spotted being flirty before at award shows. So fans are a little confused when Richie announces he's dating a humble librarian.

But remember fans are crazy so it doesn't take long for them to figure out that Bill Denbrough also only ever wears suits out of the Beverly Marsh brand. Which is strange bc Bill and Richie have very much a bickering banter in the spotlight. So they're all left wondering, what does this all mean?

Because yes Bev avoids relationship questions but she always has the same guy with her as her 'date' at events. A man not much taller than her and he's been seen reassuring her at her runway shows. Calming down her anxiety. (Eddie is 100% Bev's unofficial manager and I like to think that Bev's fashion is her and Eddie's thing. He's the one who goes to all her shows.)

So at this point fans are going crazy. They have Bill who is dating the famous architect but has written too many dedications for it just be about Ben. Also some fans 'ship' Bill and Richie bc of how they play fight through the press.

Then there's Richie who is dating the "Librarian" Mike Hanlon, but also Richie has been spotted with at like Galas with one of the best accountants in the business, Stanley Uris and he constantly flirts with Bev in the public eye.

But Richie and Bill both exclusively wear Beverly Marsh. And Bev who avoids relationship questions but is seen with the same man at shows, who the fans had pieced together is Eddie Kaspbrack. Someone who owns a predominant limousine company in New York.

And this all falls apart after one particular award show, Bill's book turned Movie won an oscar, and the Losers were out celebrating at what they thought was a private party....only to wake up the next morning and see all hell break loose. There are photos of Richie making out with Bill and Ben. There's a couple photos of Bev scandalously dancing with Richie's librarian boyfriend, Mike. Then to top it off Eddie and Stan are spotted sneaking away from said party. Two people with romantic links to Bev and Richie.

The internet blows up.

Richie tweets out the next day: "So I see you've guys have met my lovers. Yes, plural. Told you I was a whore."

I honestly feel like this has been down before, and if it has please let me know. I just can't get this particular version out of my head.

[katkat030]

Hey Kat! o/

Could you answer your favourite question from your recent reblog '40 questions - meme for fic writers'?

I'm curious which one is your fav! (And what your answer would be ^-^)

(No pressure of course! :P)

Hello hello!

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

A fair few! From a glance at my documents, I'd say about nine, three or four of which are half-formed ideas that probably won't see the light of day unless I get a sudden burst of inspiration to finish them.

I know fic usually means fanfic, but I do also have a poetry-style project I picked up a few days ago for chipping away at as atmosphere building practice, based on an irl setting!

Among my wips is a college au that I decided to create solely because it's debilitatingly funny to take Life Series and Hermitcraft events and translate them into real world scenarios.

The cactus ring? Grian accidentally punched Scar as a fight-or-flight response and, embarrassed, crashes at his older sister Pearl's house, who just so happened to need someone to look after it while she goes away for a few weeks. When he returns to school, Scar isn't there, so he tells his friends jokingly that he murdered the guy.

Cleo's stitching like tattoos? Every time someone asks why she has them, Joe, her best friend and resident literature student, gets to come up with even more elaborate and blatant lies. That's where the rumours that she's a zombie came from. He takes great pride in quoting Frankenstein and insinuating she's some modern-day version of his monster, and they both find it hilarious.

The roomies get to be roomies, because I say so. <3 When left to their own devices, Etho and Bdubs sometimes stretch the duvets and blankets between the top bunks in some sort of blanket fort to sit under while they play video games together. They dub the tradition the making of snow forts (Last Life my beloved) because it's really cold in winter without blankets. If Etho lends Bdubs his puffer jacket, that's between them.

Before becoming roommates with Scar, Grian occasionally saw two smaller Jellie look-alikes (she often accompanies Scar to classes, and since they both take architecture he's learnt her name), and assumed that by some witchcraft, Jellie must somehow spontaneously split into two. They're actually just a pair of trouble-making kittens, Katy Bee and Mr Finnegan. After moving in, Grian, resident pranker, takes them under his wing and teaches them how to properly get up to mischief.

[drowninginships]

An Ask Game for Writers to Procrastinate Working on Your WIP(s)

First of all, thank you soooo much to @monbons and @valeffelees for tagging me, I nearly had a whole breakdown over how nice this fandom is and how good it feels to be included in something like this. Yall are the sweetest, thank you <3 1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s): Uhhhh, yall name your WIPs beforehand? I currently have two documents titled "nose ring simon" and "wing fic" and I typically title it just before I post it.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___” I think you'll find this is a pretty easy formula for most, if not all, of my fics. Simon + Piercing + Baz Horny. Alternatively, Simon + Wings = Baz Horny. Sensing a theme?

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it? Explicit tags, for sure. It'd be pretty funny to tag the wingfic as monsterfucking, so I'll probably do that, but otherwise, nothing crazy going on here. Just boys very much in love.

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)? "wing fic" often affectionately gets called "how the fuck do wings work" or "goddamn motherfucking physics"

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next? Definitely the piercing one. The wing fic isn't cohesive or coherent at this time, and it's more of a collection of scenes rather than a whole fic, anyway. I'm having a lot of fun writing the piercing one!!!

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as) Please see answer #1. It's truly mind boggling to know that some of yall are out here naming WIPs.

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

Of course it's gold. Everything about Simon is gold. His mind, his body, his soul. The color of his skin and his hair when the sun shines through it from behind. The small loop now adorning his nostril.

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP. For wing fic, I was trying to figure out a way to make an au scene where everyone has wings, and I could do a little, like, wing caretaking session? But I couldn't find a solid enough reason for everyone to have wings, and also I realized I just didn't care enough about that scene to pursue it further.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet? I find this question particularly difficult. I don't know that there are any stories I want to tell, right now. Usually when I want to write something, I schedule it in and I do it. Right now, there's nothing on the back-burner.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on? Only the 2! I'm not usually one to work on multiples at a time.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now? Re: "goddamn motherfucking physics," I've never been super into fantasy or a fandom that particularly liked wings, so I genuinely have no clue how these things work. I took on this project as a gift for @valeffelees after he lamented the lack of wing fics for him to devour, and while I'm not an expert, I'm certainly trying my best. But like, the anatomy??? of a wing???

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send. Again, thank you both so much for tagging me. You're exactly who I would have tagged here, so instead of tagging you both again, I'll tag @thewholelemon even though I know you've already filled this out <3 Also, I'll tag @chaoticgaywitch @iamamythologicalcreature @youarenevertooold @beastmonstertitan and @brilla-brilla-estrellita because you all played our stupid little poetry game and brought me a lot of joy!

[zepskies]

Hi, lovely!! I just want to say that I hope you have a really good new year and that happy things come your way. I hope the new year brings you the joy that you so often give to other people through the work you share with us. 🥰

You’ve been one of the creators whose fic’s have helped cheer me up when I really needed it. And I’m proud to say you inspired me to be less critical of my self enough to get into writing a little bit of poetry (which I still think needs work, but it’s progress). 💕

And as for the end of the year questions, can I ask 22, 23, and 25? :))

Hey there, friend! Aw thank you so much. 🥹🥹 I wish the same for you. 💕

And I'm so grateful my fics could give you any measure of comfort and/or inspiration when you needed it, hun. Ooh I love poetry!! I would love to read it one day if you post it. 💖💖

Ooh yes of course. Those are good questions...

#22. An idea you had that didn't make the cut

Ooh there are many. I have an entire Jason Teague x OFC story outlined, called "Keep Holding On". I have an even longer Clark Kent x OFC story outlined, called "Hanging By a Moment" (yes, both Smallville fandom, and both alt rock song titles lol).

For Cheaper by the Dozen fandom (yes, I'm a kid at heart lol, and because I have a thing for Tom Welling), I have a Charlie Baker x OFC story outline called "Don't Close Your Eyes."

And for Chicago Med fandom (yes I've seen pretty much every season), I have a Will Halstead x OFC story outlined, called "Making it Work."

All of these are/were tentative titles lol, but they're all fully outlined stories that I just don't think I'll ever fully write, unless people are actually interested. 😂

#23. Rec another creator's fic you wish more people would read

Oh God, a ton! See my full rec list that I did for this EOY Ask.

#25. A scene or image that lives rent-free in your head

Ahaha this one seems to be popular! I've given three different responses on this (here, here, and here). Another scene that lives rent-free in my head?

Aside from all the other WIPs I have in my head (listed here), I keep daydreaming another possible addition to the Midnight Espresso-verse, set during/after In Bad Weather. It would be about Dean's (mis)adventures in supporting the reader (now his wife) through her first pregnancy after they've retired from hunting. Could be equal parts fluffy and funny. 😂 ☕

[freneticfloetry]

Okay, who's surprised that this fic has gotten wildly out of hand? @sugdenlovesdingle already knows this, but I scrapped most of my original idea like two days before this was due to post, and while it was absolutely the correct call, the first plan I had, for a fluffy little short-and-sweet piece, unfortunately also fell by the wayside.

This TK is so, so precious to me, though. I don't think I can put into words how much. But I can, apparently, put it into many, many sentences! Have seven more of them in the meantime.

Thanks to @heartstringsduet, @liminalmemories21, @paperstorm, @carlos-in-glasses, and @lemonlyman-dotcom for the tags.

“Okay,” TK pants from the wrong end of the bed, head hanging heavy over the edge, “who are you, and what have you done with the man I’m gonna marry?” Carlos laughs low in his throat, scratching idly at his abs. “I know it’s been a little bit, babe, but we have definitely done that before.” The mere mention of this particular that brings a flash from just a few moments ago, and between the memory and miles of burnished bronze skin, TK’s tempted to start all over again. Sadly — in this moment, on this day — one of them has to be both naked and a responsible adult, and it might be a nice change of pace if that person was actually him. Somehow his own muscles manage to remember how to move. “Not in the middle of the morning,” he says, digging in with his heels and scooting down with his hips until he’s shifted fully onto the mattress, “when we’re like nine hours away from having your whole family over.”

And in addition to last week's inspiration, which was all about a certain happy bouncy boy, I'm also drawing all my Carlos vibes from the warmth of this snippet of Sarah Kay poetry from In the House With No Doors.

Tagging in @ambiguouspenny, @never-blooms, @strandnreyes, @reyesstrand, @orchidscript, @rmd-writes, @whatsintheboxmh, @welcometololaland, @walkinginland, @herefortarlos, @three-drink-amy, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @carlos-tk, and @alrightbuckaroo.

[magicalgirlagency]

While rewatching the old Sailor Moon anime, I find the in-universe rumors about Ami and Makoto really interesting. Ami was seen as a snob because of her shyness and Makoto a delinquent because she punches bullies. Both were friendless before Usagi befriended them despite those rumors. Then I thought: "hey, this (the rumor - friendless part) could work very well as concept for a standalone magical story"

So I've read Severance, a dark Tokyo Mew Mew fanfic focusing on a team of ocs. The main idea for this fic is that putting a bunch of random different girls together and then ask them to save the world would in no way mean that they're going to be good friends with each other. While I prefer lighthearted Maho Shojo series, both this fic idea and the rumor-friendless stuff above can make some good Angst in a Magical Girl team. Like, the good character-development kind of Angst, not those shitty shock values and "humans are naturally bad" craps.

My idea is that a mascot searches for 4 different girls with pure hearts and gives them power to become magical warriors to defeat the bad guys, protect Earth and all that jazz like in a normal Maho Shojo show. All of the girls happen to live close to each other - and may or may not be studying in the same school. Pretty standard so far, right? Well, at their school/neighborhood/Im-not-sure-what, there are rumors about each of them already running around. They aren't too horrible (this is a lighthearted story), but still bad rumors nonetheless. The girls believe in these rumors about each other, and there isn't anyone that's brave enough to try and understand their teammates despite those rumors (lack of a genki protagonist). So they're kinda in this awkward situation where they, because of trusting the mean rumors, just assume the other teammates are not nice people. And none of them is really trying to learn about each other outside what they think they know. There might also be fights among certain members of the group, most of them remain rather chill but some are hot-headed. They don't try to hurt each other badly though, and still try to work well as a team to beat up the BBEGs. Their team overall atmosphere is slightly tense, awkward and weird, but not downright hostile and still leave plenty of space for improvement.

Since this idea comes from rewatching Sailor Moon, I think the Smart-but-Snob and the violent-delinquent rumor should be used here as well.

So one of the girls is extremely smart, and maybe infamous for her intelligence, but she doesn't speak much and often doesn't answer when people talk to her. The rumor about her is rather similar to that of Ami, people think she's bitchy due to how she interacts with other students. But in reality, she's not only just shy, but also it's very hard for her to actually talk to strangers (maybe she has Selective mutism) and she's rarely able to actually hold a long conversation. She’s much more into art and poetry instead of science because she found a lots of comfort in expressing herself using words and colors.

The second girl is the “violent delinquent” one. She’s not actively seeking out random fights, but has a clear set of rules on who deserved to be punched and have their chin stick to their nose. She actually chooses to actively avoid people who try to pick a fight with her due to her “delinquent” reputation. She breaks school rules many times to help some students who are mistreated. She also doesn’t care much about herself (often forgetting to feed herself), like if she got in a dangerous situation, she’d literally be the personification of that “ this is fine '' dog meme while shits happen to her. She’d go out of her way to defend her weaker teammates before they even consider each other friends.

The other two members could include:

- a rich girl who doesn’t know how to talk very well, having been friendless for a long time. So when she speaks to someone she could accidentally say some weird shits that offends people without knowing it. But they are scared of pointing put her “rudeness” since her family is incredibly rich and people are scared of getting on her bad side (which is non existence because she is more of a pushover than a bully) So her peers spread a rumor about how she’s this rude rich girl who’ll murder you if you do something wrong. Meanwhile she’s so confused about what is happening, she’s somewhat aware she’s probably doing something wrong, but can’t pinpoint exactly what it is since no one really told her. She and the Smart girl actually were the first two to learn more about each other than what their rumors said about them

*btw, halfway through typing this my brain start to ship the Rich girl and Smart girl together and they are so gay the fluff is giving me a sugar overload. Whoever would write a story with a similar concept in the far future please keep this ship it’s so fluffy

-a girl who hides her face and is really close to one of her teachers. The rumors include one about how she is hiding an ugly, scarred face beneath her face mask and the other one is that she’s bribing that teacher to give her good grades. The scarred parts aren’t as bad as the rumor describes, but she does have some face scars. The mentioned teacher is her aunt, which is why they’re close.

The story follows how the girls grow closer through their fights with the evil forces and eventually learn that the rumors they heard about one another aren’t truthful at all. Later in the story they’re much like a traditional MG team, but the BBEGs have seen them in their early days, so they use the misunderstanding and doubts from those days to try and separate the team.

It obviously didn’t work. However, it did end up creating some angst between the girls because of how they used to treat/think of the others. They help each other out of this guilty mindset and their bond only came out stronger than before - much to the BBEG dismay.

Ah, a story about how we shouldn't judge a book by just looking at its cover. Simple, but effective!

[carlos-in-glasses]

Hii im so glad to hear you like my comments! at some point i worried i was being annoying lol. as for my writing its just been some drafts, i used to be into making visual poems and im gonna start doing em again! though i do also love to have little narrative pieces so im probably gonna rewrite some old stuff and maybe finally write some of the stories in my head! some of which ARE tarlos, i want kidding when i said its scary to read carlos fanfiction as a hispanic person, the steriotyping and bad spanish are REAL 💀 so ig ill try to be the change i wanna see and write some good carlos fics in the future LMAO. also! just wanted to say that in ur rythms fic carlos writing in both languages is such a mood, to me words flow easier in english but then i can get more poetic in spanish, wby? do you write in other languages? id love to hear abt ur process/what you like! ur writing is really amazing and just cozy? lol. hope you have a great day! ALSO yeah gringos dont really use wpp that much! crazy lmao

🐦‍⬛

🐦‍⬛ Hello!! Oh my goodness don't you worry - it's my absolute pleasure to receive feedback like yours! Amazing that you're going to get back into visual poetry!!! Poetry that you can SEE?!! Sounds brilliant. I could never. I love art. I love artists. It makes me so happy that there are so many different kinds of creatives in this fandom. It seems to me that if an arty-type discovers Tarlos...art will happen at some point. It's impossible to resist! ALSO so exciting that you have some narratave works afoot, including Tarlos fic!! I'm certainly relieved to hear that the Spanish in Rhythms rings true enough - I don't speak other languages, so honestly if the Spanish is decent it's a result of research and just trying really really hard to do right by the Reyes fam. I'm also cognisant to what 'poetry translation' actually means. A published translated poem is not literally word-for-word translated, but the meaning translated. I knew that Carlos writing a poem called The Wrestler in English wouldn't necessarily mean a Spanish poem called El Luchador, so it became El Angel. Because that (in my head) is indeed the added romance (as in actually romantic, not Rome) and poeticism that writing in Spanish brought to Carlos. English is a hard language in every sense. It's harsh. It's made up of aspects of many others. It can be beautiful but also ugly, but you can also get away with a pidgin version of it in a way you might not be able to with other languages. I kinda liked the idea of Carlos leaning into the ugliness of English and then turning the same concept into something else with Spanish, and leaning into how one thing can be two different things at the same time. Which is true of so much of life. But that's Carlos' process lol. Mine is more slapdash. I plan for all it's worth, but then writing goes off on a merry journey of its own and I have to wrangle it back. Imagine a string of pearls snapping and going everywhere, and scrabbling to scoop the pearls up. Imagine an orangutan eating the paint of an abacus. Imagine a golden retriever running downhill on an icy road. That is my brain. Also 'rules' about writing? Fuck 'em. Don't tell me not to use the words sigh and chuckle. Don't tell me not to use adverbs (oh adverbs my dearLY beloved). I will use whatever words the characters need in order to be themselves in the story I'm telling, and I will use everything in my broken and shy little soul to make them as real and loud as I can for the reader. I appreciate all fics that do the same - and I can feel it when they do. In fact, that's probably why I've found so many fics that I've LOVED so much more than actual books I've bought off the shelf. The warmth, the non-compliance, the experimentation, the absolute passion. I have a creative writing degree and masters specialising in poetry and fuck it, some of the best writing I've seen in my life is right here in the fandom.

Thank you for your kindness re. my writing and for finding it cosy!!!!!!! Amazing!!! And thank you for teaching me a thing or two about whatsapp. I confronted my friends @lemonlyman-dotcom and @thisbuildinghasfeelings about it after I saw your comment and I was like wtf do you mean Americans don't use it??? It's an American company???? and they were like....sorry??? And then explained the situation. Anyway, for about an hour I really couldn't accept nor face it. But I've calmed down now and you've reminded me I need to go back and edit. But then we lose the fun of Wrestling Whassuppp??? Which was a PLAY ON WORDS!!! Maybe I'll keep it anyway... ❤️

Me trying to explain my writing process: