#casually advertising this fic to up the motivation

[dipplinduo]

Carmine and Drayton?!?! SITTING IN A TREE?!?!

Drayton looked down and sighed before clasping their joined hands together. “I…am really bad at talking about my feelings. I avoid them a lot, actually.” His gaze remained on their hands, and Carmine joined him in his viewing as he began to rub hers once more. “But…you make me happy. It doesn’t really matter what you say, or what you do. I’m just happy to be around you. No matter where we are or what we’re doing.”

Carmine’s heart skipped a beat as her stomach began to flutter with a new feeling. She almost wanted to pinch herself to make sure she was hearing him right - that this wasn’t a dream. It would even make more sense for him to burst out laughing, telling her that she had fallen for his elaborate prank. But he only leaned closer, gradually closing some of the distance between them.

She tilted her head to meet his face. “Are you…sure about that?” Her voice quietly trailed.

“Yeah…and I want to get to know more of you now, too…you’re not allowed to have a competitive advantage.”

Carmine kept her gaze on Drayton’s calmed, golden eyes that flickered as he came closer. “Well you owe me more information first.” She retorted. She mindlessly began to trace around Drayton’s hands - just as he did with her own - as the bridge of his nose was centimeters away from her face.

“I know some things,” Drayton admitted. “You like cutesy things, like shopping and exploring the city. You’re inherently…romantic at heart,” he breathed. “You’re driven, and naturally funny, and compassionate…and you’re so innocent and pure underneath everything. How could someone not…?”

Carmine froze in place as she closed her eyes. There was a stillness that the heat of the moment provided - one she half-consciously was too submerged in to fully grasp. It was slow, tender, and heedful as Drayton’s warmed forehead and nose bridge grazed on her. She felt the heat of his breath sync in motion with her own, and her lips parted in a reflexive anticipation.

“HEY DRAYTON?”

Carmine shuddered as she and Drayton broke away simultaneously, snapping her head to the loud knocks that followed on his door. To her horror, it was a voice she had recognized.

It was Kieran.

And WAIT. What was she even doing?!

Find out what happens next in the upcoming chapter of Bet You'll Fall in Love with Me, a shamelessly playful "will they, won't they" flirt/tsundere mintteashipping fic...

So I was hoping to release something this past weekend but an unexpected event occurred in my personal life. I'll be okay, but I'm gonna be more in a fluff-oriented writing mode this week because it's better for my headspace given what's happened. I'll be writing intermittently throughout the week and hope to get something out by this weekend.

The good news? The fuel for BYFILWM is here. 😎✌️So thank you to those who have been waiting. I know it's been a minute!

That being said, get prepared. This chapter will be...fun. 😈

[blakbonnet]

AUTHOR OF THE WEEK: @adhduck

Please give it up for the nicest and one of the most creative writers in this fandom: Duck! I'm just such a fan because not only does Duck manage to write the softest, gentlest, loveliest Ed and Stede (both together and apart), their fics somehow perpetually keep me looking like 🥹 all the time ough. And they were very very nice about sharing their writing process with me:

What's your writing process like? Do you start with the beginning or the end? Do you write in order or as the scenes come to you?

Mostly it’s the Taika “look at a document for 8 hours and then close the document,” honestly. I’m a very slow writer and lose motivation very easily, so I mostly get by on the muse’s fire hydrant and forcing myself to write those fifty words even when every single one feels so bad.

I go moooostly beginning to end because even though I’m generally an outliner, I always end up with little details that will affect later scenes and I don’t wanna lose continuity or have to rewrite a bunch. However, I do definitely let myself do a [finish this scene later] and move on to the next scene because otherwise I will get really fucking stuck, and sometimes I’ll write a line or a paragraph I thought of that sounds really good and tuck it away for a later scene.

Favourite trope or headcanon you like to explore while writing?

Ooooooooh, I don’t know if this is a trope but there’s just nothing I love more than huge feelings contained in mundane stories, of feelings so big you can’t actually express them and so they’re this constant hum throughout the story. I also love writing about touch for both of them, how Ed gives casual touch to hide the deep well of desire for intimate touch, how Stede is so unused to touch and craves it so deeply. (Can you tell I just really like subtle yet overwhelming emotions? Maybe it’s the aroace in me idk but that shit hits HARD.) Oh, and I love a fuckin’ allegory or object to discuss all those big feelings, whether it’s monsters or gardening or peaches or what the fuck ever (I have used all of these lol).

Whose voice is easier to write - Ed or Stede? Why?

I think Ed’s voice comes to me faster because the way I personally speak is closer to Ed’s voice, but it also means I’m sometimes double-checking myself to make sure I’m still deep in his voice, not my-voice-but-Ed. Stede isn’t necessarily harder for me, I’m just doing all that double-checking to make sure I’m not slipping into Ed voice or, god forbid, Aziraphale-lite voice. So, idk! I love writing them both, the little details of each of their inner dialogues are SO important to me (Ed’s tangents and his pshh-I-don’t-care moments, Stede actively avoiding thinking about things he doesn’t want to face, etc etc etc).

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

For the longest time it was There is Love That Doesn’t Have a Place to Rest, mostly because it was posted the day before another fic and, while I find them to be siblings and equal quality,  the other one got way more attention. That fic is about the time between signing the Act of Grace and getting to the academy and I think I really nailed where the two of them are at.

However! (And I know this is cheating okay shh.) Nowadays the one that I wish people read the most is Not Only the Sugar, But the Days. It’s the sequel to my “offscreen 30 year slowburn friends to lovers finally get together” fic and I put my whole fucking heart into it, honestly. The two boys basically go on a bunch of dates to live out the teenage experiences they never got together and work through the biggest feelings and I just! Really want people to see it! (It also can be read as a standalone, which I didn’t advertise super well lol.)

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

Unfortunately it’s probably “just” or “a little” or filler words like that. Also obviously if the word fuck counts then, yeah, that. Maybe warm? Or something about yearning??? If I have a classic word please tell me I’m fascinated by this idea.

Do you have a beta reader? Have they made you a better writer?

The person who beta’s for basically all my fics is Owen @trans-top-stede and they are sooooo fucking helpful and incredible. So good at catching all the little things I miss, making sex scenes make sense, reminding me positioning in general is a thing, cheerleading me on, etc etc etc. My fics are so much better for their help.

Why OFMD 🥹

Ed and Stede just fit so fucking well into all sorts of AU’s (they try to invent their own AU’s in canon, even) while also having so much fun space to explore within canon. Their range is also perfect perfect perfect for writing fics—they can be in the wells of misery and fluffy as fuck and obnoxiously cheesy and realistic all in the same fic, if you want, and it’s completely accurate to their canon selves. It’s also helped me to embrace being silly and cheesy and earnest because life is about being yourself and finding your people and feeling deeper, feeling bigger, feeling more authentically without fear of being too much. Fuck I just really love these boys. (Also they’re so pretty and the whole crew’s so pretty we WON.)

Please head over to @ofmdlovelyletters (who also made the header) and send your love to all your favourite authors (and authors of the week 😈 watch that blog for some special letters coming your way)

[fullmetalscullyy]

a moment of repose

summary: riza wakes to a light weight covering her shoulders, but the feeling of it doesn’t completely register with her right away. it’s warm and holds a distinctly familiar smell but she cannot place it while still half asleep. the comfort it brings is almost enough to lull her back to sleep, but something within her is fighting the urge. [inspired by fanart]

an: this fic was inspired by the wonderful @mienaime‘s art, which you can find on tumblr and twitter

rating: g | words: 2207 | tags: royai, inspired by fanart, fluff, thoughtful gestures

read on ao3

Roy feels ready to fall asleep at his desk as he approaches the double doors to his office. The hot coffee cup in his hand is the only thing keeping his eyes open. He’s conscious of not spilling it as he walks and the heat bleeds through the supposedly heatproof cardboard holder, searing his fingertips. Every so often on the walk back he had to switch hands to stave off the pain. Roy had even glared at the cardboard once or twice, grumbling about false advertising as he switched for the umpteenth time.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s slept in the office, but he can’t. He’s stayed back with the Lieutenant to finish up some loose ends from the week, so he really needs to buckle down and get to work. He also couldn’t do that to her. Not only because they were working overtime and he’s not that much of an asshole, but also because, unfortunately, they’d somehow uncovered even more work to do while finishing things up, so they were due in for a long night. Hence the late-night coffee run.

The Lieutenant had declined his caffeine offer, opting to remain in the office and continue working. So, Roy had rushed across the street from Central Command and picked up a coffee for himself and a pastry for her. She may not want to eat it tonight, but it would keep until tomorrow, the shop owner assured him. It would be a small surprise and gesture of thanks at least. Far less than what she deserves, but all he can give tonight.

Regardless of their long day, the evening is not all bad, Roy muses as he pulls down the door handle outside the office, because he gets to spend some time with her.

Once inside the office, Roy freezes. He blinks at the sight before him, seeing the Lieutenant’s head down on her desk. Immediately he thinks something is wrong, but the spark of panic isn’t given a chance to form fully. He can see her face and takes note of how relaxed her expression is. He can also see the gentle rise and fall of her back as she breathes evenly. One hand is tucked underneath her cheek, lying flat on the desk, while her other arm is a pillow for her head.

Roy blinks.

She’s asleep.

He blinks again because he can’t quite comprehend the fact.

The sudden burning heat from his coffee makes him hiss in annoyed pain and it jerks him out of his shock. He switches hands immediately.

Once the surprise has worn off a fond smile tugs Roy’s lips upwards because he can’t help but think about how peaceful – and beautiful – she looks. She’s completely at rest and without any worry or stress.

He turns quickly and locks the office door. No one should be making the rounds at this hour, however he knows that if they caught the Lieutenant asleep, not only would she be mortified and be wracked with shame and guilt for succumbing to her exhaustion in the first place, but there would be disciplinary action as well.

Roy contemplates waking her. He knows he should and knows she would want him to do so as well, but he doesn’t have it in him. It’s been an arduous week for all of the team, but especially for the two of them. Their hours have been long, with little time for breaks, and their sleep has been cut short because they needed to return to the office early to make their way through the workload. This is the last night of it all – tomorrow they are free – and, Roy supposes, there is only a small bit of work left to do. He can take over the reins for a while and let her sleep.

Riza Hawkeye simply does not fall asleep at work or at her desk, so she must need the extra rest.

He can give her that for a while. She deserves it more than anyone.

His feet carry him over to her desk, to the side of her chair, and Roy can’t help but smile again as he sets his eyes upon her features, so serene and relaxed. Roy places his coffee and the paper bag with her pastry down atop her desk. He gives in to the urge to reach out to her, placing his hand atop hers. It’s tucked underneath her cheek, so his knuckles brush against the soft skin of her face. The Lieutenant stirs slightly at the contact but doesn’t awaken. Her skin is warm to the touch because of her breath and the heat from her face. Like a welcoming fire on a long, cold night, warming his soul with its presence.

Leaning over, Roy presses a kiss against the side of her head.

“Sleep well, Riza,” he breathes. His lips move against her hair, and it tickles his skin as he catches a waft of her shampoo. It’s the one he remembers, and the one she’s used for years. It is so quintessentially her, that it makes him grin like a fool when he recognises it.

Riza sighs gently in her sleep.

Chancing his luck even further, Roy presses another kiss, but against her cheek this time. When he pulls away, he regretfully removes his hand from atop hers, but then starts unbuttoning his jacket. Once he’s shrugged it off, Roy drapes it over her shoulders, ensuring it’s tucked in securely, so it won’t slip away from her.

He walks over to his own desk with his coffee, leaving the pastry be, and settles in to get to work. The brief moment of affection has invigorated him, for if he works quickly, he can hopefully finish the work before she wakes up. It would spare her from needing to do more work when she clearly needs to rest instead.

Roy takes a sip of his coffee and puts pen to paper, determined and motivated to work.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Riza wakes to a light weight covering her shoulders, but the feeling of it doesn’t completely register with her right away. It’s warm and holds a distinctly familiar smell but she cannot place it while still half asleep. The comfort it brings is almost enough to lull her back to sleep, but something within her is fighting the urge. Her eyelids are heavy with fatigue when she blinks them open, but eventually they manage to pry themselves apart and she comes face to face with a… desk?

Her body jerks upright. In the chair her spine is ramrod straight and a cold sweat breaks across her skin. It has nothing to do with her lingering cold from earlier on in the week, it’s because she realises she’s fallen asleep at her desk. At work.

Panic flies through her and adrenaline courses through her veins, banishing any lingering tiredness immediately. She’s completely alert and awake.

That was also the moment she finally registered the weight on her shoulders. It had slipped off her body when she lurched upright, sliding down her back and pooling in a heap at the back of her chair. Before she can get her bearings properly and look down to see what it is, someone speaks.

“Lieutenant,” a voice greets cordially, as if nothing is amiss.

Her head snaps around to find the Colonel sitting at his desk in just his shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His brow is furrowed as he almost glares at the document within his hands. She fears it’s because of her misconduct, however when he glances up expectantly to await her answer, his expression relaxes, and he smiles.

“Did you rest well?” His question is spoken quietly, but it is not mocking, sarcastic, or displeased. He’s completely genuine.

The skin of her face heats up with shame. Before she can open her mouth to apologise profusely, the Colonel holds up his hand to halt her.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures her. “No harm, no foul.”

“Sir, I am so sorry for falling asleep at my post.”

“Lieutenant, it’s fine,” he replies softly with a gentle smile. “I figured you could use the rest,” he shrugs casually and goes back to his work. “I know I desperately want to do the same, so I don’t blame you,” he chuckles, and Riza realises he’s not lying. She can see the fatigue on his face, around his eyes. Like her, there were dark circles underneath them.

That not the point though, and she tells him as much.

“Either way, the work is… done!” With a flourish he finishes his signature and tosses the pen down on the desk in triumph, looking extremely proud of himself. “I was hoping to get it completed before you… woke up.” He lowers his voice tactfully at the end of his sentence, and she appreciates that.

What if someone had walked in while you were asleep?

Riza internally berates herself again.

While the Colonel stretches in his chair, Riza straightens her uniform. Out the corner of her eye she sees a white paper bag sitting on top of her desk and she frowns at it. Before she can comment, the back of her hand brushes against something. She sees a sleeve of their standard issue jacket lying haphazardly across her lap, and Riza remembers the weight that had been on her shoulders when she awoke.

Riza blinks down at it.

“Is it all right if I take my jacket back?” The Colonel is before her suddenly, speaking in a gentle voice as a smile teases the corners of his lips. His hand is held out, patiently awaiting her to return his item of clothing.

Nodding, Riza reaches around and hands it back. She averts her eyes before standing from her chair to pack up her things.

It’s not lost on her that he covered her with his own jacket while she slept. It was very sweet of him but is something she’ll probably be better mulling over once she’s in the privacy of her own home and away from the source of her embarrassment and disappointment. She shelves it for later, deeply appreciating his gesture, but honestly just wants out of the office as fast as possible, if she can.

“Here.” In his hands, held out towards her, is the paper bag that had been on her desk. “I picked it up for you when I ran out to get some coffee. If you don’t want to eat it tonight, the shop owner said it will keep until tomorrow,” the Colonel explains as he shrugs his jacket on his shoulders.

Peeking inside, Riza is curious.

He’d bought her a pastry.

She doesn’t know what to say. First the jacket, now this.

“Sir…”

“Call it a thank you gift for all your hard work,” he grins. “I only wish I could offer you more.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Sir, this is more than enough. That was very kind of you. Thank you.” She’s completely touched by what he’s done for her. She’d make sure to repay the stolen work time back later, as well as pay the Colonel back as well. It was the least she could do.

“You’re welcome,” he nods happily. “Would you like a lift home?”

It wouldn’t be responsible for her to get behind the wheel. The adrenaline that had been raging through her veins upon the realisation she’d fallen asleep at work had dwindled, leaving her with the same fatigue she’d felt all week due to the workload and her recovering from a bothersome cold. The same fatigue that had betrayed her that evening.

“Thank you, sir,” she agrees.

His grin makes her stomach do a small, pleasant flip.

She reaches for the door and finds it locked. Confused, she turns to see the Colonel pulling a key out of his pocket.

“I took some precautionary measures,” he answers her unspoken question. “And it was also to ensure you would remain undisturbed.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he replies as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, that he would do such a thing for her.

But, Riza supposes, it really is for Roy. He would absolutely do something like that for her.

A warm feeling coils inside her stomach and slowly spreads, climbing up her ribcage and settling gently and comfortably around her heart. It causes a smile to spread across her face as she stares back at him, once again, extremely grateful of his thoughtfulness.

In response, the Colonel's expression softens, and he returns her smile. “Anything for you, Lieutenant,” he murmurs quietly before opening the door and offering her to step through first. “You know that,” he adds, his voice stronger as she walks passed him. “Plus, how many times have you covered for me when I sneak a few minutes of rest,” he winks. “It’s about time I repaid the favour,” he snorts as they step outside.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’re purposefully going to continue that habit,” she frowns, then lifts an eyebrow in warning.

He just laughs, and Riza thinks, dryly, that she doesn’t like the sound of that laugh. But the sound of it still makes her smile regardless, like always.

[so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed]

With the year coming to an end, here is everything I’ve written in 2020. I had quite a productive year, and wrote some fics I’m very proud of. I’ve also met wonderful new people and I’m going to participate in the big bang next year, as well as hopefully join more fests! Thank you to everyone who has helped me create these 12 fics!

March:

🤴 with no way out and a long way down Larry, 31k, T, written for the @hlroyaltyfest​

Prince Harry is ten when he receives his soulmark.

May:

✈️  driving down a one way road (to something better) Zouis, 26k, T, written for the @wallsficfest​

“I’m at the airport.” It’s followed by a bitter laugh. “I’m - I’m literally at the airport, hiding away in the toilets to make a phone call. They’re probably going to barge in here in a minute, thinking I’m doing something illegal, but I didn’t know what else to do Lou.” He sounds desperate, wild, nothing that Louis is used to associating with Zayn. “My flight leaves in an hour, and I wasn’t gonna do this, but, I didn’t know what else to do.”

Louis frowns. “What do you mean, love?”

“Can I - Can I please come and stay with you?” It’s barely more than a whisper, and Louis honestly isn’t sure if he’s heard it right, but the lack of an immediate response on his part makes Zayn’s breath come out all shaky and Louis won’t stand for that.

“Yes,” he decides, repeats it, in a softer but no less certain voice, when he knows Zayn is about to protest. “Yes. Of course. I’ll be there, yeah? I’ll come pick you up. When will you get here? What airport?”

---

When Zayn breaks up with his boyfriend, he needs a place to stay. Louis wouldn't be Louis if he didn't immediately open his doors to him. Never mind the fact that he's been in love with him for two years. That's not important, right?

July:

🏥  my love will never leave you Larry, 10k, T, written for the @wordplayfics​ challenge week 1

In a world where memories are used as currency, Louis will do anything it takes for Harry to get better.

🗝  sadness is a little boy looking out the window Ziam, 6k, T, written for the @wordplayfics​ challenge week 2

Liam is twelve when he receives the key. It’s given to him on his birthday, in a red velvet box, and something about the weight of the box in his palm gives him pause, makes him hold his breath when he unwraps the bow around it.

The bronze key looks innocuous, but Liam knows better. He’s grown up with the stories, as many people have. Has been told about the keys, and that most people except for an unlucky few got one at birth. Some were immediately gifted to them by their parents, others had been kept away from them until such a time that they were deemed responsible enough to understand what it meant.

Because this kind of key, it doesn’t just open any door.

It reveals what you need most, when you need it most, and it can only be used once.

✨  it’s time to find your wings again Larry, 12k, T, written for the @wordplayfics​ challenge week 3

The first reports are dismissed, as tall tales or folklore. As mental illness, poor Bathilda, she’d gone loopy. As people simply getting scared in the dark woods and seeing things, making things up. Magic isn’t real. Mythological creatures aren't real.

But then the first one is caught. A faun, that little Meg from around the corner swears has attacked her in the woods, and everyone comes to the marketplace to see the faun be hanged for its crimes. Louis doesn’t want to go, but at the same time, he finds himself unable to stay away. Not when this proves what he’s wanted to believe all along, that magic is real.

*

Louis is twenty when he starts working at the prison. His fascination for supernatural creatures had turned into something most closely resembling loathing over the years, due to the many stories of their evildoing, and although he still doesn’t believe in hanging them for their crimes, he does believe in keeping the town safe. In making sure that his siblings get to grow up without fear of being kidnapped or hurt. As the oldest son, it feels like his duty to make sure that no creature in the wide area will ever pose a threat to anyone.

🍛  it’s a long shot just to beat these odds Ziam, 14k, T, written for the @wordplayfics​ challenge week 4

Zayn: how many years in prison would I get for murdering a popstar???

He scrapes the plates clean, resists the urge to kick the trash can, his breathing still feeling shallow and high in his chest. He wants a cigarette. And a cuddle from Louis. But a text is the most he can realistically ask for now, and luckily Louis doesn’t leave him hanging.

Louis: ?????

Okay, so it isn’t that helpful, but Zayn knows his anxiety well enough that just distracting his mind is usually enough to keep from having an actual attack. It doesn’t matter that the subject he’s discussing is the one thing his brain is actually panicking about, just trying to formulate words into a text is helping.

Zayn: I served him raw chicken. RAW. And he was kind enough to want to try and eat it too. I could have killed him!!!

That would’ve made headlines for sure. FORMER BOYBANDER GETS POISONED ON FIRST DATE, more on the ten p.m. news.

Louis: well that’s one way of making sure he’s not going to go on any of the other dates. Bit drastic though mate.

August:

💌  if you’re lost just look for me Larry, 9k, T, written for the @wordplayfics​ challenge week 5

Let your dreams set sail.

Louis blinks at the sticky note, sitting casually in between a flyer advertising an upcoming gig for one of the many bands on campus (the heavy metal graphics implying that the music is not to Louis’ taste) and an ad for a yoga club (Louis is going to have to give that one a miss too). It’s small, barely noticeable unless you’re paying attention, just tucked away as though it’s been left there for Louis to find.

He snorts. “Let your dreams set sail. What a fucking joke.”

*

Louis' first year of college is everything he had hoped for it to be.

It’s why it’s so hard to swallow that his second year is everything but.

*

A fic where motivational quotes, no matter how cheesy, might just make everything better after all.

💐  the birth of love like a force of nature Ziam, 22k, T, written for the @ziamfantasyfest​

After moving into a new house, Liam decides to introduce himself to the neighbours. The next thing he knows, he’s tied to a chair and threatened by a small army of fairies.

October:

👻  these days I watch you from afar Larry, 666 words, T, written for the @1dtrickortreatfest​

“Are you talking to me?”

The boy blinks, blue eyes thoughtful as he cocks his head. “Yeah?”

“You can see me?”

🎃  love me like we don’t have tomorrow Ziam, 666 words, T, written for the @1dtrickortreatfest​

"Are you going to see him again?" Louis asks. He’s sitting on a ruined wall, inspecting his long, dark nails. Talons, Zayn thinks. He nods.

“How many years in a row is this?”

Zayn glances at his best mate, doing up the buttons on his coat. “Dunno,” he says, even though he can recall, with perfect clarity, all the times he’s met up with Liam. Every Halloween that he’s spent with him.

"And he still doesn't know?"

☠️  be the end of me Zouis, 666 words, T, written for the @1dtrickortreatfest​

"Who are you?" Louis asks, and Zayn can tell that he already knows. He's tense, poised for a flight from the inevitable.

Zayn still answers. "Death."

December:

🎄  room for your love underneath this tree Larry, 11k, T, written for the @1dchristmasfest​

“IwannameetHarryStyles,” Daisy mumbles, and Louis blinks.

“What?”

“She says she wants to meet Harry Styles.” Phoebe pipes up, and Louis blinks again, absently switches the camera to himself because he knows that his followers will want to catch his baffled expression.

“You-” he starts, and then stops himself, because he did tell her she could ask for anything she wanted, and how can he go back on his word and tell her that he doesn’t actually have the power to make that happen?

Because Harry Styles is -- he’s next level kind of famous. Louis has two million subscribers on his YouTube, but Harry has eighteen times as many followers on his Twitter alone. He’s had three number one hits in the last year, and his last album had charted at the top spot for a record breaking 27 weeks. He’s a singer, actor and philanthropist, and there is no way in hell that Louis can get him to come meet Daisy for Christmas.

So of course he laughs, even if it’s a little bit breathless, and nods at her. “One Harry Styles for Christmas, coming right up.”

[bigskydreaming]

Scott “I am an alpha! You have no idea what I can do!” McCall is not a victim of his peers and he doesn’t have a low self-esteem, lol. In fact, Scott actively mocks, uses, violates, and dehumanizes others and assaults his peers out of jealousy in the actual show. Stop trying to paint Scott as some sort of poor mistreated wooby who’s too good and kind for his evil ungrateful friends please

Hey thanks for the spite-writing session, y’know, that thing I told you last time was literally the only thing I had to say to you about anything ever.....the way you just....inspire me to write TW fic about what I like and not cater to your obsessive need to fight over your staggeringly dishonest takes, because lololol you really just do not matter?

Anyway, so here’s what I just wrote for the next chapter of my fic WWTA, that I’ve been struggling to get back into, so thanks for the motivation! I think this chapter has like, three more scenes in it, in case you’ve got any more pointless annoying messages you want to send me, to like, help me out with the energy to write those too! 

*****

Chapter Five

Freshmen were kind of adorable, Allison decided a week into the mentoring program. At least that was something.

The way Liam lit up as she and her friends made their way to the freshmen down the hall was particularly endearing. She had to keep her glare from surfacing and pinning Brett against the lockers he leaned against, right beside Liam, Mason, Garrett and Violet. What had begun as a way to repay the debt she felt to Scott while still doing her duty had quickly graduated to true protective instincts for the young teenagers. A slight shudder ran through her body as she remembered the gashes across Scott’s chest and the defeat in his eyes -

- none of us wanted this, but it happened and we’re stuck now -

No. That would not be happening to Liam and his friends. Not on her watch.

“Hello children. And how is everyone this morning?”

Lydia made even her casual greetings a regal proclamation. It was with no small amount of amusement that Allison watched the freshmen war between their instinctive reaction to being labeled ‘children’ and their awe at being on first names basis with the undisputed queen of Beacon Hills High. This was all wildly against the natural order of things. Her eyes drifted in Brett’s direction to find his narrowed at her, and her good humor evaporated. Ugh. Why couldn’t she ever have nice things?

“Everyone’s coming to my place after school, right? Your first archery lessons!” Allison cut in before any of the freshmen could muster a response to Lydia.  Brett flinched, and a dangerous grin worked its way across her lips. She might not be the only predator interested in these kids, but she could damn well make sure her competition knew she was bringing claws of her own to the fight.

“For sure!” Liam enthused. “I still can’t believe you know how to shoot a bow and arrow. And your parents are really cool with you teaching us?”

“Oh yeah, no big deal,” Allison shrugged. In truth, it hadn’t been. Even if her father might have had slight reservations, Grandpa Gerard had practically salivated at the notion of her starting a How To Kill Werewolves 101 course for local teens. He was already planning how to use this to start recruiting new hunters from Allison’s handpicked group. She wasn’t about to let things get that far, but Brett didn’t need to know that. Let him worry.

“I still don’t think Allison’s parents are the only ones who should have been informed of this little extracurricular,” Danny said. “Isn’t this the kind of thing that should require signed consent forms from everyone’s parents?”

“Oh, live a little Danny,” Allison said. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“No, but the sharp pointy sticks might hurt their kids, and then there are these things called lawsuits…”

“Don’t be such a Danny Downer,” Stiles said. He clapped their friend on the back, but his eyes were on her. “I’m sure Allison knows exactly what she’s doing.”

She smirked back.

“I can’t make it,” Brett spoke up at last, sparking cries of complaint from his ‘friends.’

“What the hell man, I thought we were all gonna do this?”

As much as Allison hated to admit it, she wasn’t sure she did know what she was doing though. She had her work cut out for her in trying to drive a wedge between Liam and Brett. The younger boy had latched onto the sophomore as a confidant before they’d gotten their mentoring program up and running, and Brett’s claws were already in deep. Liam idolized the kid, and it didn’t help that whatever she might know about the pack’s true nature, to everyone else they were simply the cool, mysterious bad-asses that everyone secretly wanted to know more about.

“Got stuff to deal with at home,” was all the taller boy said, deliberately vague. She considered that. Was he just trying to get out of going to a hunter’s house - not that she’d ever expected he’d show, really - or was that code for the pack would be up to something later?

“Family stuff?” Allison asked casually.

“More like chores at the group home I live at. My family’s dead,” Brett retorted. She wondered if anyone else picked up on the bitter menace underscoring his calm tone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“How could you? It’s not like peoples’ families being murdered by burning their houses down around them is an everyday thing. Who would ever think that was a thing that happened as often as it does?”

“Jesus,” Mason whispered in horror. The other freshmen looked as sick as she felt suddenly, and she felt her own friends shuffle uncomfortably behind her. That hadn’t come up in her research at all, but she didn’t doubt for a second that the werewolf was being truthful. The naked pain in his eyes was entirely too human for that.

“I didn’t know,” Allison repeated again. It wasn’t an excuse, it was just all she had. He snorted.

“Whatever. I’ve gotta go. Be careful with them, yeah?”

She bit her lip and nodded, wondering how much he really knew about what she was doing. Had Scott clued in any of his pack about her plans? He’d seemed protective of Brett, and the younger boy seemed to be one of the ones who followed his lead over Cora’s, but who knew how pack politics really worked…god, could she just have five complete moments to feel on top of things and not totally in over her head?

“Damn,” Violet said once Brett had disappeared around a corner in the hall. “I mean, I knew he was an orphan too, but I didn’t know he had…shit.”

“Well, he probably doesn’t advertise because he doesn’t want people gossiping about it,” Allison said. Jackson and Danny nodded in agreement, the freshmen looking thoughtful, but Lydia and Stiles were both just watching her, the same as they’d been through she and Brett’s entire little tété-a-tété. Feeling an abrupt need to be elsewhere, she chose the better part of valor and fled. “Look, I gotta get going too, but you all have directions, right? See you after school!”

Weak, Allison.

She circled the school, doing a lap across the quad and around the outer edges of the buildings to calm herself. Almost predictably at this point, her efforts were thwarted by the appearance of one Scott McCall sitting cross-legged on the grass behind the Liberal Arts building.

[gabolange]

I hope this message comes through. I suck at Tumblr (still). For the Fanfic Ask: 8, 25, and 48, please!

For the Fanfic Ask!  Ask me more questions!

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

The characters, mostly. What part of their story haven’t we seen fully explored on screen? What has been left open to interpretation? How did they get here or where are they going?

I also read a lot, and so if there’s a gap in a character’s story that’s well explored in fanfic, you are less likely to find me there, in terms of how I prioritize my ideas. (I am a special cupcake, or something.) And I also like to push at fanon interpretations of character motivations a little sometimes, especially if there are dominant tropes that don’t quite line up with my vision.

But really…the character. My goal is always, always, always to tell the best story I can for the character.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

Writing? Not really. Editing? …yes. 

48)What’s your favourite trope to write?

My favorite trope in all the world is outsiders finding out about the (possibly secret or more often just not-well-advertised) relationship. I wrote it in Cultural Drift (Stargate SG1). I wrote it in Two to Whisper Quietly (City Homicide).  My first somewhat successful attempt was Two at the End of the World (BSG).  But no one will ever do better it than Leverage *actually* did on the show, and I try to be careful with it because it is very, very hard to do well. (There was an early attempt at BSG fic that involved Kara walking in on Adama and Roslin…that will never, ever see the light of day, because WOW that was bad choices!)

But really, I’m always here for ANY outside perspective on the relationship, and I do it a lot. I enjoyed playing with it in various ways in When the Long Trick’s Over (Miss Fisher), A Benevolent Arrangement of Things (Leverage), Walls for the Wind (Leverage), and The Greatest Exception (Stargate SG1). And probably other things I’m not remembering right now.

But of course, the actual answer is that my favorite thing to do with tropes is subvert them, quietly and casually and just enough that you only kind of notice as I’m doing it. 

[so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed]

if you’re lost just look for me (Larry, 9K, T) written for the lovely @londonfoginacup

Let your dreams set sail. 

Louis blinks at the sticky note, sitting casually in between a flyer advertising an upcoming gig for one of the many bands on campus (the heavy metal graphics implying that the music is not to Louis’ taste) and an ad for a yoga club (Louis is going to have to give that one a miss too). It’s small, barely noticeable unless you’re paying attention, just tucked away as though it’s been left there for Louis to find.

He snorts. “Let your dreams set sail. What a fucking joke.”

It’s to himself more than anything, and he doesn’t realize that he’s been overheard until a voice speaks up from right behind him. “Don’t like the sentiment?” It’s deep, and rich, and Louis turns around to the owner of the voice, only to blink at him instead.

He is beautiful. Chocolate curls and intrigued green eyes, and Louis doesn’t have a brain to mouth filter at the best of times, let alone when he’s presented with very attractive boys.

“I mean, it’s a bit cheesy, innit?” He finds himself saying. “Like, this kind of inspirational crap is just bullshit, if you ask me, because how am I supposed to let my dreams set sail when I’m arse deep in homework and I don’t even know what I want to do with my life? It’s not like I have the luxury of finding out, with the prospect of crippling student debt.”

The boy hums. “I guess. The sentiment’s nice though. We should all try and dream a little bit more.”

*

Louis’ first year of college is everything he had hoped for it to be. 

It’s why it’s so hard to swallow that his second year is everything but. * A fic where motivational quotes, no matter how cheesy, might just make everything better after all.

This fic was written as part of the @wordplayfics challenge for the prompt ‘board’. With this, the 2020 Wordplay comes to an end. When I started this I didn’t expect to be able to write for all 5 weeks, let alone finish up with over 50k written. I am so proud of myself, and I am so grateful for the wonderful @lululawrence for hosting this fest! I am already excited for next year!

[so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed]

Here are the five fics I’ve posted for @wordplayfics 2020! Once again a massive thank you to @lululawrence for organizing it, and thank you to all of those who helped me write these past couple of weeks. To all those who have read my fics, thank you so much! Your comments are what keeps me going. Please continue to let me share these worlds with you!

week 1: extract  my love will never leave you [Larry, 10472 words, T] week 2: bronze sadness is a little boy looking out the window [Ziam, 6477 words, T] 

week 3: sin it’s time to find your wings again [Larry, 12339 words, T] week 4: shot it’s a long shot just to beat these odds [Ziam, 13945 words, T] week 5: board if you’re lost just look for me [Larry, 9162 words, T]

== please click through to read the summaries for these fics ==

week 1: extract my love will never leave you [Larry, 10472 words, T]

In a world where memories are used as currency, Louis will do anything it takes for Harry to get better. 

week 2: bronze

sadness is a little boy looking out the window [Ziam, 6477 words, T]

Liam is twelve when he receives the key. It’s given to him on his birthday, in a red velvet box, and something about the weight of the box in his palm gives him pause, makes him hold his breath when he unwraps the bow around it.

The bronze key looks innocuous, but Liam knows better. He’s grown up with the stories, as many people have. Has been told about the keys, and that most people except for an unlucky few got one at birth. Some were immediately gifted to them by their parents, others had been kept away from them until such a time that they were deemed responsible enough to understand what it meant.

Because this kind of key, it doesn’t just open any door.

It reveals what you need most, when you need it most, and it can only be used once.

week 3: sin

it’s time to find your wings again [Larry, 12339 words, T]

The first reports are dismissed, as tall tales or folklore. As mental illness, poor Bathilda, she’d gone loopy. As people simply getting scared in the dark woods and seeing things, making things up. Magic isn’t real. Mythological creatures aren't real.

But then the first one is caught. A faun, that little Meg from around the corner swears has attacked her in the woods, and everyone comes to the marketplace to see the faun be hanged for its crimes. Louis doesn’t want to go, but at the same time, he finds himself unable to stay away. Not when this proves what he’s wanted to believe all along, that magic is real.

*

Louis is twenty when he starts working at the prison. His fascination for supernatural creatures had turned into something most closely resembling loathing over the years, due to the many stories of their evildoing, and although he still doesn’t believe in hanging them for their crimes, he does believe in keeping the town safe. In making sure that his siblings get to grow up without fear of being kidnapped or hurt. As the oldest son, it feels like his duty to make sure that no creature in the wide area will ever pose a threat to anyone.

week 4: shot it’s a long shot just to beat these odds [Ziam, 13945 words, T]

Zayn: how many years in prison would I get for murdering a popstar???

He scrapes the plates clean, resists the urge to kick the trash can, his breathing still feeling shallow and high in his chest. He wants a cigarette. And a cuddle from Louis. But a text is the most he can realistically ask for now, and luckily Louis doesn’t leave him hanging.

Louis: ?????

Okay, so it isn’t that helpful, but Zayn knows his anxiety well enough that just distracting his mind is usually enough to keep from having an actual attack. It doesn’t matter that the subject he’s discussing is the one thing his brain is actually panicking about, just trying to formulate words into a text is helping.

Zayn: I served him raw chicken. RAW. And he was kind enough to want to try and eat it too. I could have killed him!!!

That would’ve made headlines for sure. FORMER BOYBANDER GETS POISONED ON FIRST DATE, more on the ten p.m. news.

Louis: well that’s one way of making sure he’s not going to go on any of the other dates. Bit drastic though mate.

week 5: board if you’re lost just look for me [Larry, 9162 words, T] Let your dreams set sail. 

Louis blinks at the sticky note, sitting casually in between a flyer advertising an upcoming gig for one of the many bands on campus (the heavy metal graphics implying that the music is not to Louis’ taste) and an ad for a yoga club (Louis is going to have to give that one a miss too). It’s small, barely noticeable unless you’re paying attention, just tucked away as though it’s been left there for Louis to find.

He snorts. “Let your dreams set sail. What a fucking joke.”

It’s to himself more than anything, and he doesn’t realize that he’s been overheard until a voice speaks up from right behind him. “Don’t like the sentiment?” It’s deep, and rich, and Louis turns around to the owner of the voice, only to blink at him instead.

He is beautiful. Chocolate curls and intrigued green eyes, and Louis doesn’t have a brain to mouth filter at the best of times, let alone when he’s presented with very attractive boys.

“I mean, it’s a bit cheesy, innit?” He finds himself saying. “Like, this kind of inspirational crap is just bullshit, if you ask me, because how am I supposed to let my dreams set sail when I’m arse deep in homework and I don’t even know what I want to do with my life? It’s not like I have the luxury of finding out, with the prospect of crippling student debt.”

The boy hums. “I guess. The sentiment’s nice though. We should all try and dream a little bit more.”

*

Louis’ first year of college is everything he had hoped for it to be. It’s why it’s so hard to swallow that his second year is everything but.

* A fic where motivational quotes, no matter how cheesy, might just make everything better after all.