#fanfiction writer

[lumierexfics]

and like the only time Bruce’s rests is when Jason gets out from the coffin again—he missed again. ＼(^-^)／

Bruce Wayne wakes up in the past, five months after Jason Todd died, and spends most days sat beside the grave because he never found out exactly when Jason had come back and he wanted to be there to save him when he did.

From an outside perspective, everyone is extremely concerned.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Just where you oughta be

Written for the @steddiebingo

Prompt: Body Worship (both on my regular and on my Countdown to Midnight Bonus card)

Rated: E

Words: 2,619 (also on AO3)

Tags: Omegaverse; Omega Eddie; Alpha Steve; Established Relationship; mpreg; Rut; Explicit sexual content; Knotting; Mating Bites; Possessive Steve

Notes: Set in the same universe as Whatever you want it to be. I wanted to write around 1k for this but the boys had other plans again, so have a full-fledged bonus chapter, I guess.

Eddie is propped against his kitchen counter, eating ranch dressing straight from the jar with a spoon - he always thought pregnancy cravings were an invention of the media, but joke’s on him, apparently - when the phone rings. For a second or two, he considers ignoring it. He's been up all morning packing his belongings for the move and he's just about ready for a nap. Every little thing seems to tire him out these days. But it might be the new landlord calling about something with the apartment, or the doctor's office with the results of the bloodwork, so he reluctantly puts his gross brunch-in-a-jar aside and bridges the two steps to the phone. 

“Munson residence, this is Eddie speaking,” he intones, putting on a posh British accent just for the hell of it. 

Silence.

Eddie gives the receiver a confused look. Maybe the line died again?

He’s just about to hang up and go back to his ranch dressing when someone at the other end speaks. 

“Eddie?”

“Steve!” Eddie cheers, stomach erupting with a million butterflies. He’s long past being embarrassed about them. They’ve been courting for months, they’re about to move in together, and then there’s that thing where they have a baby on the way. Steve damn well better make him feel butterflies, all things considered. “Fancy hearing from you! I thought you were at work?”

Steve doesn’t answer, but Eddie can hear him breathing at the other end of the line. Long, heavy gulps of air, like he just ran a mile. Or like he’s sick, maybe. The butterflies make way to an unpleasant clenching feeling. 

“Stevie? What’s wrong?”

“I-” Steve starts to say, then trails off again. Then, quieter, pained almost, “Fuck.” 

“Fuck?” Eddie squawks. “I don’t like that fuck. Fuck what? What’s going on?” 

Steve draws a long, shuddering breath. Eddie can just about see him, raking a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. His mind is running through a dozen worst-case scenarios. Steve has had a run-in with Carver and his goons. Or, even worse, Mommy and Daddy Harrington have come home and spotted the moving boxes. They know about the pregnancy. They’re making Steve break up with him, because there’s no way their precious golden boy is running off with some good-for-nothing, trailer trash omega he accidentally knocked up.

What Steve actually says makes the floor spin out from under him for a second. 

“It’s starting.” 

“It’s- … What?” Eddie gapes at the empty kitchen, ass sagging heavily against the counter. “What is starting? You’re not talking about-”

“My rut,” Steve says, and even though his voice is trembling, Eddie imagines he can hear it now. How it’s growing deeper, vibrating with a barely restrained rumble. It makes an answering chirp tickle at the base of his throat, makes something wet and hot pool low in his belly.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “You said you weren’t due for one for at least-”

“I know,” Steve whines. “It came early. Must’ve been triggered by the pregnancy pheromones or whatever.”

“The pregnancy-” Eddie starts to say. “So what, this is my fault now?” 

“Eddie,” Steve whines. Eddie snaps his mouth shut. 

“Right, sorry, I just- … Wow. This was definitely not on my agenda for today.” 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Steve scoffs, and Eddie doesn’t need to see the fond eyeroll to know that it's there. Then, he clears his throat, suddenly hesitant again. “You obviously don't have to- … Like, I understand if this is all too sudden, but … I wanted to let you know, because we talked about this and we said-” 

“Stevie,” Eddie says, and waits for the babble to grind to a stop. Steve is right. They talked about this. How they want to do this before the kid is born. How a heat or rut is the best chance of making it stick. How Eddie is unlikely to go into heat while pregnant, leaving them essentially only this one option. How they both think they're ready for this. “It's okay. I'm coming over.” 

Steve whines again, needy and hopeful.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, and Eddie remembers the crippling loneliness and emptiness of his last heat. How Steve's presence and Steve’s touch were the only things that seemed to help. He imagines it must be similar for Steve now. 

“Hell yeah, big boy,” he says, stretching the phone cord as far as physically possible so that he can grab his keys from their hook. “Don't you go anywhere, I’ll be there as soon as I can. We're getting mated today.” 

*

Eddie doesn’t bother with the doorbell. One of Steve’s first courting gifts was a spare key, and he's been making liberal use of it, just letting himself in and out of Harrington Manor whenever he pleases. 

He pauses to shuck off his shoes in the entryway, inhaling the familiar scent of sun-soaked moss and pine needles lingering in the air. Its owner is markedly absent. 

“Stevie?” he calls, but there's no reply. Eddie shrugs to himself and heads towards the staircase. 

The scent grows thicker as he makes his way up the stairs, telling him that he's on the right track. It also grows … heavier than what he's used to. Earthier than usual, and deeper. 

Wilder. 

Alpha, whispers his needy little hindbrain. Our alpha. 

Eddie tells it to shut up. No need to turn into a hormonal puddle of instinct-controlled goo before they've even made it to their destination. 

And then he pushes open the bedroom door and the scent crests over him, and the warm, tingly feeling that has been sitting in his abdomen ever since the phone call dissolves into a hot glob of slick. It drips out from between his legs, spreading over the crotch of his jeans as a dark, wet stain. 

“Ew, what the fuck?” Eddie swears, hurriedly fumbling out of the pants and throwing them over the nearby desk chair. His boxers are already beyond saving, completely drenched and sticking to his legs as he pads closer to the bed. “Stevie, are you in there?” 

The bed is a tangled mess of sweaty sheets, a tousled mop of chestnut hair sticking out at one end. Eddie thinks how this is a weird reversal of their first night together, when it was him in the same bed, desperate and needy. 

“Stevie?” he says again. There's no reaction whatsoever, and okay, this really is starting to freak him out now. Is this normal? He has no idea. Following a sudden impulse, he peels back the edge of a sticky blanket, finding and shaking a trembling, naked shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart, what's wrong, are you not feeling- … Fuck, you’re burning up. We need to get you water, Or an ice pack. Or both? Yeah, let’s make it both. Just lemme get-” 

He turns towards the door. 

And that's when the heap of blankets explodes in a flurry of movement. 

The room flips, and before Eddie can so much as yelp, he's on his back in the sheets, wrists pinned on either side of his head. On top of him, Steve bares his canines and snarls. 

“Shit,” Eddie squeaks, trying to shuffle away, but Steve’s grip is like steel. His instincts, meanwhile, seem to have other plans, because more slick oozes out from between his legs. “Steve? Stevie, calm down, it's me.” 

Steve pauses. The gravelly rumble that has been bubbling from his throat stops. His nostrils flare. His pupils, thin black needlepoints in his green-and-gold irises, blow wide and fuzzy. 

“Eddie?” 

Eddie nods so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. 

“Yeah, that's right. You called me, remember? And now I'm here. Just like I said. So there's absolutely no need to freak out and tear out my- oh, my God!” 

Because Steve has just surged in to lick a long, firm stripe over the side of his neck. His tongue drags over the sensitive gland there, rough and wet and firm, and Eddie's back nearly lifts off the mattress. A high, startled chirp tumbles from his mouth, and Steve answers it with a purr and a roll of his hips. 

His shoulders - and somehow it is only now that Eddie fully registers this - are not the only part of him that's naked. There is, in fact, not a shred of clothing anywhere on Steve’s body. His cock, fully hard and huge, slots into the space between Eddie’s thighs as he leans in to nuzzle at the spot he just licked. 

“Eddie,” he murmurs against the flushed skin, and it feels like his voice tingles right through the gland and all the way into Eddie’s blood. “My Eddie. All mine.” 

Eddie chuckles weakly, even as the hot, tingly feeling pools at the base of his spine, causing his own hips to grind up against Steve, his own cock to press against Steve’s larger one. 

“Clingy today, aren't we?” 

The only reply he gets is his own name, pressed into his skin like a prayer. Steve's hands are no longer holding his wrists pinned, but roaming down his ribs, his sides, pushing up his shirt and caressing the ever-so-slight curve of his stomach. He's only some three months along, but he's always been skinny, so he's starting to show if you know what to look for. Steve lets his palms rest there for a long time, purring all the while, nose pressed into the curve of Eddie’s throat, seeking his scent. 

Just as Eddie is starting to wonder if he should tell him that it's too early to feel the kid move, he speaks again. 

“My pup,” he whispers, and the raw protectiveness in the words makes the warm, needy thing in Eddie’s insides quiver. And he must've made a sound - maybe a moan, maybe another chirp - because Steve looks up, eyes finding his, and suddenly all Eddie knows is his warmth and touch and scent. “My mate.” 

Eddie’s world jolts to a violent stop. 

“Yes,” he rasps, one hand coming up to cup Steve’s face with shaky fingers. “Yes, yours.” 

It isn't true yet, not technically speaking. They aren’t bonded. He isn't Steve’s yet. 

But he wants to be. Wants to be claimed and possessed with every fibre of his being, inside and out. Wanted this the first time they were in this bed together, when he was too high on drugs and hormones to form a coherent thought. Wants this now, months later, on the threshold of their future. With his belongings packed in boxes and Steve’s baby in his belly. Wants their bodies and souls entwined, just like their lives are going to be.

Steve, somehow, seems to read all of this on his face, or maybe in his scent. He rumbles, low and pleased, eyes like golden sunlight filtering through the canopy of the deepest, darkest forest. He leans in, sealing their mouths together in a long, insistent kiss, pine and moss and earth filling Eddie’s senses. 

“Gonna make you mine,” he mutters against Eddie’s lips. “Gonna claim you and mark you and never let you go.” 

Eddie thinks he's never heard a sweeter promise in his life.

*

Eddie never thought it would be like this. 

For the longest time, he couldn't fathom ever getting mated at all, and even after that, after Steve, he didn't imagine it this way. 

He always thought it would be a violent and overwhelming and debasing affair, being taken and made into some alpha's possession. He couldn't imagine how anyone could possibly want this. 

He should’ve known it would be different with Steve, because when has Steve ever been what he expected?

It's still overwhelming. It still feels like being laid bare to the core as Steve slowly rids him of his clothes, like being naked and vulnerable in so many more ways than one. It still feels like being claimed as those large hands and those soft lips trace every curve and dip of his body, map the lines of each and every tattoo.

But there’s nothing debasing about it. Not in the way Steve looks at him in incredulous awe. Like Eddie is the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, like he can’t believe he gets to have him. Not in the way Steve touches him like one would touch a precious treasure - firm and sure but also reverent. Not in the words that Steve mutters against his skin as he buries himself inside - pet names and endearments and never-ending confessions of love.

This doesn’t feel like being debased. 

This feels like worship. 

Steve fucks him long and slow and deep, covering his face and jaw and neck in licks and kisses that gradually turn into nips and bites. Like he wants to savor this. Like they have all the time in the world. Like Eddie isn’t coming apart under his touch, turning more into a whining, moaning, chirping mess with each thrust and each touch.

The climax that sweeps over him feels unlike anything he’s ever experienced before - powerful and all-consuming, his very being reduced to the pulsing needlepoint that is his own pleasure. He claws his nails into Steve’s naked back, hard enough to leave long, angry welts and tilts back his head, a high, pleading keen tearing from somewhere deep within. 

Take me. Mark me. Make me yours. 

Steve does. 

Locks himself deep inside of him with a final snap of his hips and comes with a hoarse growl. The delicious burn of his knot stuffing him full draws a long, wrecked moan from Eddie’s lips, the pleasure of it so intense he hardly registers the pain when Steve’s fangs pierce his mating gland.

It’s going to stick. He knows this instinctively, even after the first few seconds.

He has Steve’s knot inside of him and Steve’s come filling him up and Steve’s teeth in his neck, can feel Steve’s pleasure pulse through his own body, so entwined with his own that he doesn’t know where one ends and the other begins.

He hopes it lasts forever.

He actually whines when Steve pulls his fangs out after a beautiful eternity, shaky hands tangling in sweaty hair to pull him back in. Steve goes willingly, lapping at the thin trickle of blood that has escaped from the fresh wound and covering the fresh bite in more kisses.

“Mine,” he whispers, voice spent and exhausted, but also brimming with love and pride. “My pretty mate. My sweet pup. All mine.” 

Eddie doesn’t find the energy to reply, so he just combs his fingers through his hair and kisses the top of his head, laughing softly to himself when Steve preens under the attention and the purr gives way to a hearty, drawn-out yawn.

“It's okay, big boy. You did fantastic. Get some rest.” 

Steve curls around him with a content sigh, nose finding the fresh mating bite, hands settling on the swell of Eddie’s belly. Minutes later, the room is filled with the soft rumble of his snores. Eddie wiggles to find a comfortable position, moaning when Steve’s knot catches inside of him.

“I'd make you some food like the good, doting omega that I am,” he murmurs against the slow rise and fall of Steve's chest, “but I fear I'm stuck.” 

“Don't you dare,” Steve mutters without opening his eyes. “You’re just where you oughta be.” 

Then, his breathing evens out again. 

Eddie allows himself to drift off into a pleasant doze as well, lulled in by Steve’s summer forest scent. The tiredness from earlier has morphed into a leaden, bone-deep exhaustion, but he's content to let himself sink into it.  

They're just where they ought to be, all of them, and the future is looking pretty damn good. 

More Steddie Bingo

[aineran]

~(°^°)~

[bunnybonesstudio]

Possibly controversial? IDK.

Too much incorrect grammar, capitalization, and punctuation. Bad formatting can also turn me off too a fic. I can’t look at giant walls of text.

I think this is all because I was an English major in college. So formatting and grammar was drilled into me. It just became unreadable to me.

I do believe of course fanfiction shouldn’t be graded the same way books are; that’s just too high of a standard for a hobby that should be first and foremost fun and free!

But I unfortunately can’t turn my brain off when I read.

Of course there’s other things; I don’t read anything like dubcon or more taboo subjects. But nothing turns me off quicker than improper writing etiquette.

okay, genuinely curious (and please feel free to expand in the tags)

[samcrosfaith]

GONE WITH THE SIN / CHAPTER EIGHT

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

authors note; You can find all chapters of this story in my main masterlist pinned post it'll lead you to the right masterlist! I appreciate every like, comment and/or reblog! 🖤🍒

tag list; @ravennaortiz @mamawiggers1980 @tommyflanaganfan-blog @adoreemee @delightfulheroshoeflap @jp1019 @sjester42-blog @mayanqueenxx @aimkatsz

word count; 2577

TARA SQUINTED HER EYES against the sun as she looked over at Randi, silent at first. It was unusual for her best friend and sister-in-law to be so quiet, normally Randi had this bubbly personality, this infectious good mood.

But not today.

"Okay, are you so quiet because of what happened to Happy or because of Julia?" Tara stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stopped Randi as well by gently olding her arm, the coffee to-go in her other hand. "Just talk to me, say anything. But this silence is creepy, really."

Randi remained silent for another moment before finally giving in to Tara's curious gaze, a frustrated sigh falling from her lips. "Both, I guess. Shit, I was really scared, especially because I had no idea what happened. And then..then that bitch storms into the room andᅳ"

Randi shook her head, her lips in a thin line as she looked away, staring at the coffee to-go she was holding. "He said he was single, that there was no other woman. I wouldn't have slept with him otherwise."

Tara almost choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken, staring at Randi with wide eyes. "You slept with him? And you're only telling me this now?!"

"Sorry", the brunette replied with a wry smirk and a shrug. "It just happened somehow. I knew it was going to happen the moment I let him into my apartment though. I have no self-control around that man."

"But what does that mean now? I mean..was it just sex or more?" Tara hooked her arm through Randi's and slowly strolled on, curious to hear more. "I would really be happy for you guys if you could work things out, you were really happy with him."

"Yeah, I was. Until I ruined it." Randi let out a bitter snort, the anger at herself still gnawing at her. "In Seattle, I really thought it could work out again. Shit, I even seriously considered giving up everything to come back after spending the week with him", she admitted before clicking her tongue. "But apparently he already has someone. And lied to me on top of that."

Tara didn't miss the bitterness, the sadness in Randi's words as she stopped in her tracks again. "He didn't lie to you, Randi. Julia is nothing more than a bed warmer for him, a croweater. Happy isn't in a relationship. You know full well that you were the only one he could even imagine this life with."

"But why was she there then?! Did you see how she threw herself at him?" Randi asked through a huff, but she was just hurt. "Do you have any fuckin' idea how much it hurt to see another woman worry about him? That's my job; was my job."

"Julia is always around him and is desperately trying to become more than a croweaterᅳ but she never will." With a small smile, Tara nudged Randi's shoulder. "Happy told me to tell you to come back later. And believe me, Julia was with him less than two minutes. He doesn't want her, he wants you and we all know that."

"You really think so?" Randi usually wasn't an insecure person, but she didn't know what to think or feel at the moment. "I still love him, I realized that last weekᅳ although I never doubted it. Butᅳ"

"But your job is getting in the way", Tara finished the sentence for her friend, her tone full of understanding. "I used to be like you. My career was so important to me that I blocked out everything around me. Don't get me wrong, I love my job; but sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I had never left Charming back then."

"Maybe you'd have five kids with Jax by then", Randi chuckled, her sour mood finally fading a little. "Dancing was all I ever dreamed of until I met Happy. But then I got the letter and..I was afraid that I would regret it one day if I hadn't taken the chance."

"Hey, it's okay that you chose that path", Tara smiled weakly. "And if we're honest, moving to Seattle seems to have shown you what you really want. A life with Happy."

"Yeah, maybe", Randi sighed, turned the next corner and changed the subject after taking another sip of her coffee. "Shit, this really is the best coffee in townᅳ no, the best coffee in the whole freakin' world", Randi gushed.

"Well, I guess you'll only get it daily again if you come back to Charming", Tara said with a wink, which made both women laugh before they spent some more time in the nearby park to catch up on all the things they haven't talked about while Randi was gone.

ᅳ

THERE SHE STOOD, in front of her house. The house she bought with Happy a little over two years ago. Okay, he had paid most of it, after all he had more money after selling his old, smaller house. But Randi had put in every dollar she had saved, even though Happy told her she didn't have to.

The yellow facade was already peeling a bit, but it still looked just as cozy as it did a year ago. The sun, which hung high in the sky and beat down on Charming, cast an extra warm glow on the property. The lawn was freshly mowed, the small palm bushes on the sides looked well-kept.

Probably, and the Morrow woman was pretty sure of this, it was Gemma's work. Her mother had a very specific love of plants and probably just wanted to make sure that the garden was still well-kept even though it wasn't even her house.

Excitement bubbled up inside her as she headed to the door and turned the key she had kept all year. Taking another deep breath, she entered the house and immediately found herself in the living room, and the memories she had collected here hit her like a truck.

But what she noticed first was the distant scent of Happy, his scent probably clinging to the furniture, spread throughout the house. She closed her eyes for a moment after letting her duffle bag slip from her shoulder, enjoying the quiet moment as she folded her arms across her chest.

She felt at home.

The lump in her throat was hard to swallow as her eyelids fluttered open again, her brown orbs taking everything in. The pictures in the living room, of her and Happy, club parties, of Happy's mom. Nothing had changed. The furniture was the same, even her favorite dark green blanket lay on the couch, neatly folded.

Randi wasn't surprised, she knew that Happy was a neat freak and needed everything clean. She had always been the chaos queenᅳ and still was.

Her path led to the kitchen, the largest room in the house. The previous owner had installed a new kitchen just before he moved out, the white cabinets and stainless steel appliances still shone like they did on the first day they moved in.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but at the same time pain tugged at her heartstrings as she thought about the last conversation here where she had begged Happy to come with her. The look of real pain and anger on his face was burned into her memory and still haunted her today.

Her breath hitched in her lungs before her feet quickly carried her into the next rooms until she finally stood in the bedroom, her heart heavy as she came to a stop in front of their bed. Randi hesitated for a brief second, but she had to do it.

Shaking her combat boots off her feet, Randi fell back onto the bed, some of her brown hair splayed out around her head. She just stared at the ceiling for a while before rolling onto her side and pulling Happy's pillow against her chest, burying her face deep in it.

And when his scent filled her nostrils again, much stronger this time, she just wanted to come back home. Inhaling his scent had such a calming effect on her that she fell asleep within a minute. Sleep that she probably needed more than she had thought.

ᅳ

A LOUD RUMBLE ECHOED through the house, startling Randi awake. Confused, she looked around until she remembered that she must've fallen asleep earlier.

But she was on high alert right away as the noises grew louder. The brunette slid off the bed silently, pulled her duffel bag closer, and rummaged through it for her gun, something she always carried with her. If Happy had taught her one thing, it was to never be unarmed; that had always been the most important thing to him.

With the gun firmly in her hands, Randi slowly stepped into the hallway and let out a loud gasp when Happy came around the corner and ran straight into her, his expression almost amused as she stared at him in shock and immediately put the gun aside.

"Jesus Hap! I almost shot you", she scolded in concern, running her shaky fingers through her hair.

"You kept it", he noted with a rasp, followed by a slight grin. "Atta girl."

"You could've said it was you sooner!" Randi said with a scoff and shoved him in the chest, slapping her palm against her forehead as Happy let out a low growl, his face twisting in pain. "Oh my god, shit, sorry. Sit down!"

"I'm fine", the SAA grunted as Randi gently pushed him towards the couch. He sat down reluctantly, every movement still straining.

"What are you even doing here?" Randi stubbornly asked. When she stood in front of him, right between his legs, she put her hands on her hips, looking like a younger copy of her mother. "I bet the doctors didn't tell you that you were good to go home. Am I right or am I right?"

Of course, the concern for him increased immensely, after all, his injuries weren't exactly harmless.

"You didn't come", he stated simply, his eyes now locked with hers. "So I came. And don't even try to convince me to go back."

"Butᅳ" Randi paused, cursing under her breath as Happy shot her a look that clearly said 'don't even try'. "I was sleeping, otherwise I would've come. I'm sorry, but first I was out with Tara, then I spent some hours with Mom and Dad to catch up, and then I just fell asleep here."

Happy shook his head, his hand reaching for her wrist to pull her onto his lap, no matter how much pain it caused him. "You needed sleep, it's fine. But I need to talk to you and it can't wait."

"I mean, it's kind of sweet that you left the hospital just because you wanted to talk", she admitted, the smallest smile on her lips. Still, she was worried about him, his health. "I assume it's about Julia? Tara already told me she's not your new girlfriend", Randi told him softly as she played with the hem of his white shirt. "But why was she there then, Hap? There has to be more."

"But there isn't. There's nothing between Julia and me, little girl", Happy croaked firmly, his uninjured arm wandering around her waist. "She wants more, but I've told her a thousand times that I'm not looking."

"But you slept with her." Randi caught her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes slowly meeting Happy's. "How many times? How long did that go on?"

"You really wanna do this now?", Happy asked, suddenly looking just as tormented as Randi. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted. "You just took off, and eventually I had to get rid of my frustration. So, a few months. Nothing serious, but sometimes I just needed someone next to me and fuckin' pretend that it was you."

"Okay", Randi breathed, appreciating that he was honest instead of lying to her. Still, it hurt. "Iᅳ shit, I know it's my own fault, but I hate the thought of another woman getting so close to you."

"Hey." Happy grabbed her jaw, pulling her head a little closer. So close that he could rest his forehead against hers. "I'll never want another woman, but I didn't know if you'd come back."

"I don't blame you, Happy, I really don't", she sniffed, her lips brushing his. "I wasn't entirely innocent in Seattle myself. I tried to get you out of my system somehow but it didn't help, you were always there, always in my mind."

"You slept with someone?" Happy's eyes darkened, all his muscles tensing under her delicate touch.

But who was he to get upset now? He had slept with another woman himself, more than once. But the thought of another man having his dirty hands on his womanᅳ he hated it.

Randi nodded almost shyly. "Yeah, with Steven. But it was only once andᅳ"

Happy raised a hand, his eyebrows drawn together, clearly not thrilled. "Steven. Your boss Steven?"

Randi nodded again, followed by a sigh as her gaze was fixed on Happy, whose face she cupped in her hands. "But just as Julia means nothing to you, he means nothing to me."

"Does he know that, too?", Happy asked, letting out a huff. But again, he had no right to be angry.

"Yeah, we both didn't make a big deal out of it", Randi shot back sternly, shifting until she was sitting properly on his lap and could face him. "It was a mistake, a desperate decision to forget you. And it didn't work, nothing worked."

Happy ran a hand over his face and turned his head away, but Randi's grip was stronger, almost possessive. "Please Happy, think about giving us another chance and I swear to God that I won't ruin it again."

"We talked about this, Miranda", Happy shot back, but he couldn't deny that he was slowly softening under her pleading gaze. "A long distance relationship? That's not what I want, and neither do you if you're honest with yourself."

Randi let her hands sink, only to place them on his chest, the next words hard for her. But she knew this was her only shot. "What if I stay?"

Happy's gaze shot back to her immediately as the words were spoken, hanging heavy in the air, his scrutinizing gaze studying her. "Are you serious about this? No games, woman."

"No games, I mean it", she promised sincerely, holding her arms up. "I want this, you. And if that's the only way...then so be it."

As soon as she had finished her sentence, Happy's hands flew to her face, holding it tightly in before he pulled her head further down and let his lips crash against hers, the kiss rough and raw but still full of affection.

She found a brief moment to breathe, already panting as she clutched his shirt. "Happyᅳ"

"Just shut up", Happy croaked back, not giving her a chance to doubt the whole thing.

He just wanted to feel her before they'd have the next serious conversation that could change Randi's mind again. But if the accident had taught him one thing, it was that he didn't want to waste any more time.

He wouldn't let Randi leave again.

[viccyfics]

As I'm starting chapter 5 I thought I'd let you all know, that I will very happily take requests, ideas and prompts :)

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Pineyyyyy,

I'm asking for the masses: please bless us with your writing process! How do you perfect these wonderful fics?

Thank you so much for asking Zae! 💞

As my writing process is a little chaotic and not very disciplined, I'll try to gather some advice and a rough timeline of what I do and how!

I think you'll already know most of those tips Zae, considering how incredible your writing already is! I hope this will still be helpful! Also forgive me because this is going to be long and detailed (I'm hopeless).

To everyone reading this, please keep in mind that I do not claim to have a perfect recipe for writing things that will make everything absolutely incredible (first of all, I do not think my work is perfect—far from it—and it's important for you that your writing process stays fun and comfortable!). This list is about things that work for me, but you have to find what works for you!!

NON-WRITING STUFF

Before writing: I love to set myself in the mood. As I don't have much free time my dedicated writing time has become a sort of sacred moment and I have my rituals (I put up the holy combo music+a good teapot of tea+Frankincense)

Music is a HUGE part of my writing process. As you and the amazing @/redwritr have already told me (thanks again both of you this is the best compliment ever<3), my writing sounds like music and I think this is also why. (Typical example for Fantasies II: I listened to Mother Mother's - "Body" in a loop to write the desperation moment. Maybe it's just me being too suggestible, but the pace and tone of a music piece totally guide me while writing).

I use Google Docs (on dark mode lol) to write, always. I know it's not super original and I regret not being able to put a nice background or typing sounds like ZenWriter allows you to for example, but it is the most convenient for me because I can carry my WIPs everywhere through my phone or laptop (plus it has the autosave, thinking about your writing curse LMAO).

THE WRITING ITSELF - what I do very factually and in what order.

I start by writing absolutely ANYTHING that comes through my mind, even if it's very shitty or doesn't make sense. Really, anything, no filter, just pure creative torrent flooding through my brain. Most of the time, I never publish the fic like this, it's purely to keep me motivated and to let ideas flow from my brain, otherwise they just don't want to appear. It's more difficult for me to find good ideas/work the flow of what's happening if I have to stop every two minutes and reflect on what I've done. I never correct my spelling at this point either and sometimes even leave words or bits of sentences in French lol. It must be spontaneous and wild.

I usually have the main ideas somewhere written on a note and new ideas are added between them as I write.

Once this draft is finished, I have the rough lines of what's happening and the different parts of the fic, and it's time for what I like to call the "Ripening" phase (yes I'm French ofc I'm using cheese/wine metaphors for my work lmaoo). Basically, I re-read the draft a LOT of times and focus on parts that seem odd/are not well written enough to my liking.

During that phase, I do a lot of research. I like to search for lexical fields, synonyms, original or uncommon words. I use Notion to organize links of all the website/Tumblr pages that I like for discovering vocab. I visit almost every time @/literaryvein-reblogs; their blog is a pure goldmine! (let me know if you want me to share some resources).

With this newly acquired vocab, I like to go for alliteration/assonance. I often replace words I had written during the spontaneous phase with new vocab words that simply sound better together. I also try out different versions of my metaphors and keep what feels better or what is the more telling/meaningful/simply more pleasant to read.

Once all this is finished, I always take the time to re-read the whole thing in one go, trying to step back and put myself as a reader. I often end up deleting parts that seem too long or not essential enough from fear of boring you guys. I think this is purely personal, you writers know what you really want to keep or not in your writing.

So basically that's what's happening: 1. Pure chaotic writing session where I let myself be wild and write nonsense 2. Ripening phase (sorting out the good from the horribly bad from the first phase, vocab, deleting or changing parts, trying out different words and figures of speech, sometimes re-writing whole paragraphs). This phase might be the longest actually. 3. Final reading in one time and last details before publishing.

INSPIRATION AND WRITING STYLE - Getting the pretty picture out of your brain!

I know it feels difficult to put exactly what's on your mind to paper, and sadly just like while painting/drawing, imo you can never reproduce EXACTLY what you see in your brain into a physical object. You can only approach this vision as best you can! Here's what works for me.

I always try to immerse myself completely in the setting; where are the characters, what mindest do they have in this moment, what is surrounding them?

Use the five senses, this is something I do almost systematically. Sight is the most used ofc, but smell and hearing are also ultra important to me. Touch and taste also are central, especially during smut. They help bring words to life!

Don't be afraid to describe a lot; this is important to get closer to what you're picturing and putting the same image in your reader's mind.

Now, this isn't a secret to anyone, my favorite tools are metaphors and comparisons + allegories when I'm good enough to find one. To me they are the best way you can explain to readers what the thing you're picturing is close to without having to factually describe every little detail of it; or how a character feels without being too obvious.

(This is a personal preference of mine. You have to find figures of speech that feels natural and good to you, that you like reading and writing!)

Read. Reading books, poems, other people's fics, and listening to songs and their lyrics are imo the best things you can do to nourish your own writing. We're social animals; a brilliant idea may spontaneously appear from nowhere in one's head but 99% of the time it's from discovering others that your writing style will be refined and perfected (identifying what you like/don't, why you're particularly in awe of a specific sentence or particularly attracted to certain types of phrasing without trying to copy/paste the thing is the way to go)

Be curious! Inspiration also comes from anywhere; go to museums, watch movies, go take a walk in nature, really let yourself be filled with all types of art and information. I use a notebook and my phone to note random things that I see or hear that gives me a sort of "inspiration potential".

e.g: I broke a match trying to light up a candle once. Completely banal and forgettable event. Well, it ended up being a comparison for a wasted potential in Through My Eyes. Yes, the notebook is flooded with random things I probably will never use, but this is also a good way to stay open and receptive to little things around you that can inspire you.

The "show don't tell" technique, as in cinematography is a pretty difficult balance to find but is really efficient to get people interested without offering them obvious things on a golden platter, and I personally love it. Here, here, and here (symptoms and afflictions method) are some more resources!

CONCLUSION AND FINAL ADVICE

As I already said, this is what works for me! You have to find what does for you and always remember to have fun! I know it might sound weird but most of my writing process is spontaneous and words just flow "naturally" out of me most of the time, so I don't really know how to explain things clearly (sorry about that :/)

ALSO your writing takes the time it needs and it's no one else's business!!!

As you can see, my drafts in perpetual change; it's totally fine not to write the perfect fic in one go! Don't be afraid to re-write and change things as many time as you want! (I honestly think I have to stop myself from reading my works because even now after publishing, I would still be changing things!)

Never ever put pressure on yourself while writing, this must not be a source of negative emotions (this goes for writer's block too, everyone has been through it, and you should not feel bad for it!)

The most important thing is for you to try! Try different styles, and different settings, try to get interested in new stuff even if it's not your usual medium. Always be curious!

And for my fellows non-English natives, try to use Grammarly to check your grammar and spelling, WordReference to check for translations/meanings, and DeepL instead of Google's translator!

Here, I think I'm finally done! Sorry it was that long, I hope I could help you Zae, and bring you guys some useful advice! As always, take care, and have fun writing!

-Pine 🌱

[uncannyalien]

Yes and my dolls are a group of Ninja Mutant Turtle Teens who look at me and say "yeah you're part of our family now"

Im having the time of my life over here

I just saw someone on tiktok say writing fanfiction is basically just playing with dolls….i can’t get that out of my head. We’re literally just playing with dolls in our heads and putting it on paper 😭😭😭

[put-a-keep-are-you-foo-dell]

[morbidmira]

ao3 writers are either *90% of works are short oneshots* or *physically incapable of writing a oneshot, everything must be expanded upon*

[deadghostgirl12345]

*writes a sentence or two after writing nothing for days*

[koulakoukoula2003]

To my non-english native moots and fellow fanfiction-writers, have a look at this wonderful questionnaire, I believe we can all agree that fanfics have literally taught us what our boring English classes couldn't 😂

Has writing fanfiction helped you guys with your English?

Has writing fanfiction helped you guys with your English? (question to non-native English speakers).

I’m writing my MA thesis about the impact of writing fanfiction on English skills and proficiency, as well as on several individual differences.

Could you take some time to fill out my questionnaire? I would be forever grateful <3 It's a bit long, but I wanted to conduct a comprehensive study.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Saving My Fanfiction Work

First. Side note: This post was only intended to give resources to fanfiction writers and enjoyers. My talk on recent political events was a context/reasoning on why I made this post. Also I’ve had to add more information to this post over time due to people’s confusion in my comments. Explaining it was to make sure that this post didn’t come off as out of the blue for my followers and this community. Which is fanfiction.

Also, why I made this post was from people asking if they could download my fanfiction because of the recent political events in America hence why I named it “saving my fanfiction work” and added my context. So this was also a post to tell people that liked my fanfiction they could download it as long as it was for their personal collection. I merely just wanted to list resources to people who wanted to download fanfiction and don’t know where to start or don’t have the immediate resources. I’m not here to fear-monger. I am just giving resources and the reasoning on why I’m giving them along with urging people to look into those information/recent events as staying aware is important. I respect everybody who’s given their opinion and yes, some of my grammar in this post is not adequate as this post was merely made for giving/stating resources.

Lastly, I will no longer update this post with comments as I’ve said my peace, nor will I pay attention to the notifications as they are muted. As my page is for fanfiction not politics. Thank you for the people in this community who share this post for the resources see you around the tags! Stay safe friends!!✨ Remember I love you! And you are loved!💛

-

Due to the recent events in the United States. To clarify the recent events being Trump becoming president of the United States, Project 2025 more than likely going to be integrated. If you are not familiar with Project 2025 I urge you to look it up.

Along with the KOSA bill that has many problems and it has passed the senate now needing the finally vote in the house, which both are majority red. Go here to learn more on why it needs to be stopped and how you can. This is another component that will harm our communities. Go to: stopkosa.com

With all of its harmful plans some of the plans are to take down/restrict internet sites that have LGBTQ+ communities that means communities like the fan-fiction communities/sites in the United States.

I am only giving resources to those inside and out of the US in case they banned sites that hold fan-fiction. Better safe than sorry.

Being that I live in the US the possibly of mine and many others Fanfiction has the possibly of being in danger. Therefore I'm giving you recourses. (I'm not leaving or stopping my writing, I'm here for the fight!)

For those wanting to save my fanfiction, I give you permission to download them off of AO3 and to be used for your personal collection. Meaning, your eyes only. To clarify I’m saying this as others have asked if they could download my fanfic so for those who would like to you can.

If you do not know how to download them many others on online have tutorials on how to download them and add them to our phone libraries.

Here are some links to tutorials:

Downloading Fanfic

Adding to Iphone & Android Library

Adding to Kindle Library - Video on How (On TikTok)

Adding Book Covers (At the bottom) - Good EPUB Cover Changer (I use this)

Types of Files and What they mean

Please stay safe out there! Remember to follow the rules below.

DO NOT share the downloaded file anywhere online.

DO NOT repost the downloaded file under your name.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

Please stay safe out there friends! I love you so much! Know that there will always people that love you and in for the fight to make sure you are loved!

And here are some resources in case you don’t feel okay! Resources here

[witch-of-the-writing-desk]

It really be like that though

[fangdokja-anon]

Very true.

Future me editing what my past self wrote while sleep deprived: