#felt like 100k+ was rare when I was a teen and now there all these 400k monsters that never end

[theres-a-goldensky]

16 + 2 Reddie Fic Recs pt. 2

I’m back and still on my Bill Hader bullshit, so here’s another round of Reddie fic recs, because I can’t stop reading and sometimes sifting through the insane amounts of fic is a nightmare. So if you feel my pain and need some (at least in my opinion) fun stories, then come along with me on a magical journey filled with men crying during sex, hypochondria, and your mom jokes.

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

IT chapter 2 list part one - Reddie

Good Omens fic 

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

Various BL Series fic (fandoms: Love By Chance, TharnType, 2Moons series, My Engineer, Until We Meet Again, 2gether, History3: Trapped)

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

All my recs are completed, almost all of them are post-It chapter 2. * - denotes a favorite

1. I killed a clown. AMA! by liesmyth - ~10,000 words, teen - The history of Eddie and Myra’s marriage shown through their posts on reddit. The voices here are great, and it really feels like reading the reddit forums, down to the people sleuthing through their past posts and comments to try and figure out if what they’re saying is real or an elaborate troll.

 r/relationships

Posted by u/martymcfly6xo 7 months ago

 My (39F) husband (39M) likes horrible stand-up comedy. How can I stop him from bringing this up in front of our mutual friends?

For the last year or so my husband has been watching a lot of stand-up comedy on youtube. I want him to have something relaxing to do (he works a lot and gets really invested in his ‘hands-on’ hobbies in a way I’m not sure is good for him) but I was very puzzled by this discovery as he likes very crass acts and that is certainly not the kind of humor hubby usually enjoys...

2. all of the kids back home believing much more than you do by eatcheeseliveforever - ~11,000 words, explicit - This is a fix-it fic, which is becoming more and more rare in this fandom as we collectively started deciding that Eddie Kaspbrak doesn’t need to be brought back to live, because he never died in the first place, dammit. It has some great pining by Richie. You can really feel his grief and desperation as he searches for a way to get Eddie back. The other Losers are great in this too, especially Mike with his whales.

"A boat, actually," murmured Mike.  "I'm on a whale-watching cruise."

Richie mouthed the words "whale watching cruise" to himself.  Empirically he knew such things existed, that they happened not far away from the coast where he lived, but it felt like several fucking galaxies away from where he was, surrounded by the ghosts of takeouts and blackouts past and the actual ghost-ghosts, who he couldn't step in or stub his toe on at three in the morning, but hurt so much worse.

"He said you've been googling resurrection rituals."

Richie scrounged through his pile of empties, hoping one wasn't.  "Bill talks too much."

"Richie."  A sigh, or a wave, or a really quiet whale.  "You're not going to find a resurrection ritual on Google."

"I've found hundreds," said Richie.  "Funny thing, though, they all seem to call for orgies.  Or virgin sacrifices.  Or sacrificing someone's virginity in an orgy.  I'm hoping Ben will volunteer as tribute."

3. * - you’ve got the answers to my confessions by QueerOnTilMorning - ~17,000 words, explicit - This is the good stuff right here. Richie accidentally sexts Eddie and Eddie is IN. TO. IT. This fic starts with excellent phone sex, there’s misunderstandings and confessions in the middle, and then it ends with super hot sex. There’s a brief part with karaoke that was a bit of a lull in the story, but doesn’t take away from how great the rest is.

     suck on ur tongue  

     show u how much I missd that mouth  

     when u start getting weak in the knees  

     thats when ill get on mine  

 He set the phone aside to unzip his pants, palming himself through his boxers, already half-hard.

 Then he froze.

 The text he had just replied to--it was what he'd expected Travis to say, but it wasn't how Travis would say it. That text began with a capital letter and contained punctuation. That text was from--

 "Oh, fuck, no," Richie whispered, and his phone rang.

 Incoming call: Eds

4. * -  L'Appel du Vide by Mackem - ~92,000 words, teen - I know, I know, almost 100k and no sex, but hear me out! The pining in this fic is so exquisitely beautiful and wrenching. Eddie’s POV is excellent and feels really spot on. The other Losers are well represented, especially Ben and Bev. In fact, the group dynamics here are almost as good as the relationship stuff. The later chapters bring in a subplot about the deadlights that I wasn’t that interested in, but it’s still done really, really well, and that’s only a side plot that doesn’t impact that exceptional story of Eddie and Richie figuring out how to stop being dummies.

Two messages, however, are from Stanley, sent to him privately. He opens them, and is met with a picture of Richie, apparently taken without him realising.

It shows him laughing, his eyes crinkled at the corners behind his glasses, and his smile bright and broad as a hand gestures wildly in the air. The other hand is in his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he tilts his head back, displaying the line of his throat beneath his stubble.

The breath is punched from Eddie at the sight of it.

He stares at it for a long moment, surprised by the depth of his reaction. His stomach is swirling happily, a bubble of excitement growing at the pit, and he cannot help but feel a heated flush build at his cheeks.

It’s probably just because Richie looks like he’s enjoying himself. It’s good to see his friend having fun. That has to be it.

Then he reads Stan’s message.

Stan: He was talking about you. He does that a lot.

5. my love a beacon in the night - by zach_stone - ~4500 words, explicit - Richie is on the road doing shows through Christmas. His friends have a surprise for him. I know it’s almost Valentine’s Day, but it’s never the wrong time for a fluffy Christmas story imo.

 “Yep, just got to my hotel,” Richie says. “Now I’m getting ready for my big Christmas Eve plans.”

 Eddie snorts. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

 “Well according to my TV guide, they’re doing a rerun of The Mistletoe Promise, so I’m all fuckin’ set,” Richie says, grinning when Eddie laughs. On Eddie’s end of the line, he hears the sound of cars passing by, the muffled chatter of people, and says, “Are you outside?”

 “Huh? Oh, yeah,” Eddie says.

 Richie glances at the clock on the nightstand. It’s after ten; Eddie’s not one to be wandering around Times Square after dark. He frowns slightly. Eddie’s been unusually vague about his holiday plans, so Richie has no clue what he’s up to this evening. Not that it’s any of his business. Maybe he’s started seeing someone and is spending the holidays with them. Richie has a sudden image of Eddie, arm-in-arm with some generically pretty woman, taking in the lights and decorations around the city. It opens a pit in his stomach.

6. Coming Back and Coming Out: Richie Tozier's 2019 by Lunatical - ~2000 words, teen - I genuinely adore the mixed media fics that this fandom has spawned. This one is an excerpt from a magazine interview with Richie as he restarts his career.

Slouched on his couch in a cheesy Hawaiian shirt and torn-up jeans, Richie Tozier looks exactly like the manchild he is describing himself to be. Next to him, sitting up straight and dressed in a lovely suit that most people would consider appropriate for an interview, his husband rolls his eyes.

When we scheduled this interview, Tozier insisted we hold it at their house, citing a desire for the interview to be “as chill as possible”—in his own words, of course. He argued that seeing the two of them in their usual environment would help me get a better idea of the kind of relationship they have. After walking into their apartment and seeing the way they’ve decorated the place, I have to admit that I can understand why.

7. baby, there’s no other superstar by kaspbrakziers - ~7000 words, mature - Another mixed media fic that shows the progression of Richie and Eddie’s relationship and Richie’s career through tweets, texts, and interviews. Eddie not knowing how to turn off the capslock on his phone absolutely sent me.

Search history

Today Sunday, 13 November 2016

should i get a divorce? - Google Search

Unhappily Married: Should I get a divorce? - Yahoo Answers

10 Signs Your Marriage Is Over - Buzzfeed

how to divorce? - Google Search

How To File For Divorce (With Pictures) - wikiHow

how to divorce someone without them getting angry? – Google Search

can you divorce someone without telling them? - Google Search

8. Goes on Trips for the Scenery by InkandOwl - ~4500 words, teen - Eddie dies and then comes back to life and tries to get some perspective. I liked the conversations between Eddie and Richie and then way that Eddie starts to take care of himself. The end is really sweet.

If cosmic power and a literal alien space clown’s death wasn’t going to bring him back to life, Eddie was certain that the terrible pain of hearing Richie beg, his tears dropping onto Eddie’s face, probably would’ve done it. He feels sick just thinking about it. About what it all means. “Yeah, Rich, I will.” He could throw a jab at him, tell him something about eating like an adult for once, but he wants to be easy with him right now. Richie deserves it. “You’ll text, right?”

Richie looks down at the prepaid cricket phone in Eddie’s hand and laughs, “There’s no fucking way that thing gets texts.”

“It does.” Eddie grins, “You could call too.”

The fight drains from Richie, his shoulder slumping and he sighs, “Yeah, Eds, I’ll call.”

9. cause i'm about to blow that back out by thotgreeves - ~5000 words, explicit - Here, have some porn. Eddie wears lingerie and Richie loses his goddamn mind. Features submissive top Richie and his unending boner for Eddie.

Richie really should have learnt to never underestimate Eddie Kaspbrak by now. It had come close to killing Richie once, but Eddie might actually be trying to finish him off.

Because the other perk of always letting Eddie go ahead of him was that it gave Richie a prime view of Eddie's ass. Eddie knew about this part and was okay with it. He was wearing a high-waisted pair of slacks that Richie was pretty sure came from the women's section, slightly loose in the legs but nicely filled out by his ass. Richie had been very vocal in the past about how hot they got him, which signaled that Eddie definitely wanted to have sex tonight, and that was already enough to make Richie's dick twitch in excitement. He hadn't been prepared for the finishing blow.

Richie's eyes were fixed, pendulum-like, on how Eddie's slacks were hugging his butt perfectly with every step he took, tight enough to show off the outline of his underwear. Only the folds didn't sit where Richie had expected them to. Instead, Richie realized, his mouth going dry, that in the absence of boxers, there was only a V-shaped crease running from Eddie's hips to between his asscheeks, which could only mean-

Eddie was wearing a thong.

10. * - I’ll Be Homo For Christmas by Amuly - ~15,000 words, explicit - Bill and Audra get a divorce, so Bill moves into Richie’s house with him. Eddie, watching all of this from New York, where he’s still married to Myra, is super, super ok and fine with it in every way.

Except then Richie started posting.

Just stupid shit, mostly with Bill. It wasn’t even real. Eddie knew Bill wasn’t gay and him and Richie were just fucking around ‘for the ‘gram!’ But the more posts Eddie scrolled past on Richie’s Instagram—

 Bill in the kitchen swatting at Richie with a spatula.

 Richie and Bill at the pound, Richie rating dogs on adoptability, Richie begging Bill to adopt a dog with him.

 Richie in the morning with bedhead, smiling blearily into the camera as Bill…

Well. Eddie couldn’t even remember what stupid thing Bill was supposed to be doing in the background of that photo because his eyes couldn’t get past Richie’s bedhead and shirtless torso, chest hairs creeping up towards his collarbones and the little dip at the base of his throat.

Eddie hadn’t thought he was homophobic. But he must have some unresolved issues with it, because he got a stomachache every time he looked at that photo of Richie. Eddie popped a Tums and resolved to talk about it with his therapist.

11. A High-Five is a Hug You Can Hit by Amuly - ~26,000 words, explicit - This fic shows us times throughout their friendship when Eddie and Richie would invent reasons to touch each other without even knowing why. This author feels the same bone deep conviction about Richie crying during sex that I do, and I greatly appreciate that. Plus, all of their stories are fantastic, including this one.

“You know, one of the symptoms of hypothermia is feeling like you’re warm. So like, your body gets so cold that it gets hot, and then you start taking off your clothes-”

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Eddie?” Richie shot back at him without turning around.

“Why don’t you ask your sister how much she liked it last week!” Eddie hollered up at him. Richie just flipped him off without looking. That kinda… bugged Eddie. What the fuck did Richie think he was doing leading up the group with Bill? Why was he stuck back here with Stan? Eddie glanced over at Stan, who was trudging tiredly through the woods alongside him, breath puffing out in little clouds of smoke.

“Okay, Stan?”

Stan glanced over at him, confused. Then he shrugged. “Yeah, fine. Cold.”

“Well that’s better than feeling warm.” And now Eddie was back on track. “Because, if anyone starts feeling warm, they should tell the others immediately. That’s a sign of hypothermia. And we have to warm you up. But you have to do it gradually, you can’t just jump in like, a pot of boiling water-”

12. * - fall apart of stay intact by kaspbrak_kid - ~19,000 words, teen - A more melancholy take on the Christmas fic. This story takes Richie’s self-esteem issues and mental problems and amps them up in a way that feels entirely realistic. The gang comes together to celebrate Christmas, and everyone is walking on eggshells because last Christmas was a bad one for Richie. Also, Eddie moves into the house literally right next to Richie’s, and I find that detail endlessly charming.

“Five minutes ago. I called you, and you didn’t answer. Because you were outside, apparently, fucking...stargazing in December! With no hat on!”

“It’s about the Vitamin D!” Richie says. Now that he’s moved a little, he can really feel the cold—his ears are aching, and his face is numb. “Reflecting off the moon, or something. I have seasonal depression, you know!”

“You have seasonal stupidity,” Eddie mutters, audibly rubbing his hands together. “Just get inside.”

“Yours or mine?” Richie jokes.

Eddie doesn’t get the memo. “Mine, obviously. I’ll make you hot chocolate.”

“Oh,” Richie says, and sits up. “Um. Okay, be right there.”

“Oh, thank god,” Eddie says, and hightails it to his back door, cursing about the cold.

13. evidence of a happier future by lagaudiere - 23,000 words, mature - I am here, leading the Jealous!Eddie revolution. Why aren’t there more fics about this. Have you SEEN Eddie Kaspbrak, can you IMAGINE him jealous? Make this happen, fandom. Anyway, in this one, Richie has a boyfriend back in LA. Eddie has trouble dealing with that as he tries to figure himself out and pick up the pieces of his life post-Derry.

“It’s not gonna be like Mike’s announcement, don’t worry,” Richie says hastily. “And it’s not like, a huge thing, so don’t make it a huge thing. But you guys are like, my best friends, and I just wanted you to know that I’m, uh. Gay.”

He turns up his palms and raises his eyebrows in a gesture that suggests a magician presenting his audience with an empty hat after making the rabbit disappear, and Eddie says, “Are you joking?”

“What? Jesus, no, Eddie.” Richie’s face falls, and Eddie instantly feels guilty. “I’m trying to be sincere here.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says immediately, feeling all of their friends looking at him with reproach. “I was just — if you weren’t, I wouldn’t think you should… joke about it.”

“Well, I am,” Richie says. He sounds slightly put out — and who wouldn’t be, Eddie scolds himself, by that ridiculous response. “I have all the gay credientials. I have a boyfriend, partner, whatever people say. I don’t really tell people because of the whole, stage persona, thing. But yeah.”

“Richie!” Bev’s voice breaks through the awkwardness, and she reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thank you for telling us. Really.”

And the others all join in, a chorus of voices telling Richie they love him and they’re proud of him, and Ben is saying, “I wanna see a picture of the guy!” and Eddie’s throat feels like it’s closing up.

14. The ‘Do Not Fucking Touch Me’ Tour by MellytheHun - ~23,000 words, explicit - It’s Richie’s comeback special, and he makes it a big one. This...isn’t really a comedy show, but the author lampshades that. It’s an excuse to have Richie talk about how much he loves each of his friends individually, and it’s extremely entertaining. Richie doesn’t know that Eddie is in the audience watching it all.

“Hey, uhm… Eddie… he couldn’t reschedule his thing? He - I mean... it… it was really that important?”

She feels awful for him immediately, but not wanting to spoil what would ultimately be a lovely surprise, she tells him, “I’m sorry, Rich. He said it was urgent. He was really sorry about it.”

Her phone buzzes with a text from Eddie right as Richie curses under his breath, missing the noise. She clutches her phone more tightly in her fist, knowing Eddie is wondering where his seat is going to be; she bought him a separate ticket, elsewhere in the theatre, so Richie wouldn’t catch him sitting among them, as he will absolutely, inevitably look over to the Losers for most of the show.

“Okay,” Richie surrenders sadly, “Uh - I guess he’ll see it eventually, right?”

Smiling forlornly at him, she pats his arm, and tells him, “don’t worry, Richie. Your genius will inevitably be forced upon us all.”

He smiles at her, gives her a kiss on the cheek, and when Bill jokingly asks why he didn’t get one, Richie flips him off, and reminds them to treat themselves to the bar in the lobby.

Once he’s backstage, Beverly takes her phone out, and emails Eddie his ticket, explains that she’s already convinced Richie he’s not coming, and to make sure he doesn’t show up too early, or Richie will notice.

15. The List by cissues - ~7000 words, teen - Eddie finds a list he wrote as a teenager. Richie tries his best to fulfill them all. This is very sweet.

‘ All the things I want. Everything I’m not allowed to have. A perfect summer. ”

The words hit gentler than he thought they would, but they still hit and he finds himself blinking away at a wetness at the corner of his eye. He wipes at it and sniffles and Richie peers sidelong at him to make sure he’s okay. He is, he’s fine, and Richie never dotes on him when things are, generally, okay. Only when he needs it, which is one of the many things he loves about what they have now.

“This is… this is like a fucking  bucket list  for the most repressed child in the world.” Richie says, breathless.

Eddie rolls his eyes to hide the sting. “You’re looking at him,” he says, bitter. Richie frowns at him but turns back to the paper. Another thing Eddie loves, Richie never takes his trauma-induced bait. His knee-jerk reactions developed over years of what he’s now comfortable enough to call abuse.

16. Richie Tozier Answers the Web's Most Searched Questions by DeadpanMage - ~2000 words, teen - This is a short one, but the transcript of this popular YT video format with Richie felt spot on in terms of characterization and Richie’s voice.

[Back to the text screen: “So WIRED asked Richie Tozier some of the internet’s burning questions.” Cut back to Richie, now holding a poster board with several Google autocomplete searches half covered.]

Richie: I’ve undergone something of a rebranding in the past year, so I wonder how many of these questions are going to be super irrelevant-slash-embarrassing. Probably all of them. Let’s get started! [He tears the covering off of the first question.] Alright, that’s not bad. “How to pronounce Richie Tozier?” Well, we’re only on question one and I’ve already said it like a hundred times so there you go. And that’s “Richie Tozier” spelled J-O-H-N M-U-L-A-N-E-Y, so if you’ve got any complaints be sure to send them that way. Next question!

You can check out a larger list of stories I’ve enjoyed in my AO3 bookmarks. And finally, if you’re interested, here are the two fics I’ve written:

1. Waiting For a Sign - ~6000 words, explicit - Eddie meets Richie again and comes to the startling realization that he totally wants to hit that.

Maybe if Richie wasn’t famous, Eddie could have found a way to let it go. A couple furtive jerk off sessions in the shower after he got back to New York and the image of Richie’s big hands and wide smile and improbably flattering stubble would fade from his mind.

But Richie was famous, and the internet never forgot.

Eddie lasted three days before giving in and typing ‘Richie Tozier’ into the YouTube search bar. Just seeing Richie in the thumbnails was enough to make Eddie’s heart thud, what the fuck. He had to scroll past a bunch of news videos about Richie's supposed mental breakdown, but after that he landed on some old stand-up.

Before he clicked on the first video, he got up and made sure that the door of his study was locked. Then he turned off the lights and put on a pair of earbuds.

Fake It ‘Til You Make It - ~21,000 words, explicit - It’s that totally relatable situation where the man you’re secretly in love with is a celebrity who just came out and now needs a fake boyfriend to keep himself in the spotlight. Eddie offers to help out of the goodness of his heart and not because he’s insanely fucking jealous.

Eddie froze, breath catching in his throat.

Richie looked...really good.

Bev’s influence was obvious. His hair, which had been unkempt and shaggy, a perfect match for his stoner permakid schtick, was cut much shorter and neater. His formerly unruly stubble somehow now emphasized the sharp cut of his jaw instead of obscuring it.

He wore new glasses, Eddie noticed. Slim silver metal frames instead of his giant, clunky plastic ones. The fitted black sweater and dark blue jeans were simple, but made his shoulders look impossibly broad and his legs miles long.

Fuck everything and Beverly Marsh in particular.

LINK TO MY FIRST SET OF REDDIE RECS 30+ FICS

[callunavulgari]

Year-In-Fic

Total fics written this year?

Another Love (The Flash; Barry/E2Wells, Barry/Thawne; 4,586 words) “I want you,” Barry confesses unhappily, a charming pucker between his brows. His eyes dart back up, not shying away for once, to meet Eobard’s. A little bit of steel creeps into his expression again, and Eobard wants to applaud him all over again. What a beautiful creature he’s created. 

time in a bottle (The Flash; Eobarry; 2,961 words) “If I didn’t exist,” Thawne says, quietly, moving to slide his fingers up Barry’s jaw; they leave goosebumps in their wake. “Then neither would you. And if you didn’t exist… well. We won’t get into that mess. So the universe — the, hah, Speed Force — sent me here. A paradox, clinging to the cracks between time. Just… waiting.” 

nothing's gonna harm you (not while i'm around) (SW; Gen, Reylo; 1,167 words)  Ben and Rey Organa are born ten years and five hundred parsecs apart, but Ben can feel it in the Force the moment she comes into being. He can feel her every second of her way home, a bright star that outshines even the familiar intensity of his parents.

we dream in the dark (for the most part) (DA; Gen; 806 words) “Will it go away?” Bethany asks, her voice quiet as a whisper.

Ramble On (The Flash; Eobarry; 2,695 words)  Thawne playfully hums a few bars of something vaguely familiar. Barry looks back at him, and when Thawne sees him looking, he smiles wider and gleefully stomps his way through a puddle. Sings, “If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do…”

D.C. al Coda (The Flash; Barrison;  Harrison edges closer, until Barry is close enough to touch, and reaches out to take Barry’s jaw in hand. It’s tacky and cool against his palm, from sweat, tears, or both. He tilts Barry’s chin up in a testing sort of way, willing him to open his eyes. “Barry,” he says, gently. “Look at me.”)

it began with stones (DA; Fenhawke;  Everyone knows that the blight started in Ferelden.)

darling, you gotta let me know (Stranger Things; Nancy/Steve/Jonathan; 6,120 words) Jonathan’s room is messy the same way that Steve’s is. There are dirty socks and shirts and underwear strewn across the floor. Cassette tapes litter the desk like miniature landmines. There’s a notebook open on his bed, a textbook and a pencil beside it. He must have been studying when Steve knocked. 

   Binary Sunset (SW; Reylo; 1,747 words) Center stage, Rey holds herself as still as a statue. Spine straight, toes pointed, already in first position. They’ve done something to her eyelashes, softened all her hard edges, from the jut of her jaw to the point of her nose. She glitters, from her feathered bodice to her flowing skirts, a bright glint of white in the dark.He doesn’t think that anyone else has noticed that she’s trembling.

Nine fics. I don’t even want to know how many words.

Best story I wrote this year: darling, you gotta let me know. It was the first fic that I was proud of from the get go this year.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest. Ramble On. It had all of the weird dreaminess of Time In a Bottle without the Inception feel. I ended up rereading it on the plane back to Ohio and liked it so much more than I did when I was writing it.

Okay, NOW your most popular story. darling, you gotta let me know, hands down. It’s the first fic to get over a 1000 kudos since I stopped writing Teen Wolf. I mean, of the nine fics that I wrote this year pretty much every one of them is from a smaller fandom. I think the only reason this one got as popular as it did was because I published it right after Stranger Things got big and I was one of the three people who had written for the pairing. Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion: it began with stones, probably? I usually have a definite answer for this question, but this one was strange as it is. Dragon Age/In the Flesh fusion with Hawke as a zombie? Kinda weird. I don’t mind that it got a small reception, but it fits the most.

Most fun story to write: Another Love. I had a ton of fun playing with that whole concept. Barry going back in time to when Eobard was playing at being Wells was a fucking gift.

Story that could have been better? All of them? Technically? I’m still not entirely pleased with how  time in a bottle turned out, but I ramped that one up in my head for so long that I’ll probably never be satisfied with it.

Story I wrote to fix things: Pretty much all of my Flash fics were written to make something better. Ramble On and time in a bottle were both written to satisfy my need for there to be a current-timeline paradox Thawne still out there, tucked away in the speedforce, just biding his time. Hell, all of the God Complex series were written because I wanted to rewrite or add bits to an episode to suit my shipper heart.

Oddest story: it began with stones. In the Flesh. Dragon Age. Kind of weird. But my brain went, what would Jen like for her birthday? Okay, she likes Dragon Age. And she likes zombies. How can I write zombies in a way that I haven’t written them yet? Oh, I know! Hardest story to do: Okay, so it isn’t on here, but the Sabriel AU is what I’ve really been suffering through. I hit a point and wasn’t able to overcome it, which is why it still isn’t done. I’m hoping to read Goldenhand and the rest of the Like Young Gods series sometime this month and we’ll see if it inspires anything. Easiest story to write? I struggled with pretty much everything I wrote this year except for  Another Love. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it just so happens to be the only fic I wrote before I gave up smoking.

Most mining of your own history in one story: Pretty much none of them. D.C. al Coda has a lot of my experiences with grief, but that’s about it.

Themes, or absence thereof: Pretty much ‘heroes and villains make out’. Or in the case of Hawke and Fenris... rivalmancy. Where did you publish/archive your stories? Ao3, as per usual. Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to: I have nixed pretty much all of my Teen Wolf projects. I would like to say that at some point I’ll finish the Bioshock Infinite AU and the Carmilla one, just because I have so much written of it already, but I don’t know. I do know that I want to finish the Sabriel AU and I currently have a weirdly one-sided Julian/Barry fic, a Prompto/Noctis pining fic, and several Stargate Atlantis fics that I want to finish. Oh, and maybe the Yuri on Ice soulmate AU if I can make the idea hang around long enough to get to.

Sexiest moment (excerpt): He slides the palms of his hands up her sides, ghosting them up and over her ribs, framing them, feeling where the softness of skin and muscle gives way to hard bone where her rib cage starts, how each breath she takes pushes her body more firmly into his hands. She makes a noise when he reaches her breasts, shuddering when he cups them, even through the fabric.

“Please,” she breathes, and Jonathan hesitates, unsure of what she wants.

“Here,” Steve murmurs, taking hold of Jonathan’s hands once more. He guides them to the buttons of Nancy’s blouse and pauses, waiting, as Jonathan undoes them himself, his touch sliding down Jonathan’s forearms then back up again.

Jonathan pushes the blouse from Nancy’s shoulders, watching the blush that blooms under his eyes, going from her throat clear to her navel. Her cheeks are flushed too, her eyes black and wanting.

Steve lets go of him, maybe realizing that Jonathan won’t be of much help at this moment, and his hands vanish around Nancy’s sides, quick and darting. It isn’t until he’s helping her pull her bra loose that Jonathan even realizes what he’s done.

Steve’s hands go back to his, guiding them to Nancy’s breasts. The skin is firm and supple, and so very warm. Her nipples pull tight when his hand brushes them. Steve leans close to Jonathan’s ear, and whispers, “Touch her.”

Crackiest moment (excerpt): Outside, it’s raining. The air is heavy with humidity, heat pressing down on his back like something alive. Barry walks down the street, feet bare against the wet asphalt. Thunder rumbles threateningly in the distance. A bird sings, and a street over, another joins it. Everything is green and damp. It smells real. Would a dream smell real?

Halfway down the street, a second pair of feet join his. The person they belong to is silent, doggedly following him down the road. Barry doesn’t have to turn to know who his newest phantom is.

“Are you going to sing at me too?”

“Do you want me to sing to you?” Thawne asks.

Barry glances at him, frowning unhappily. He’s wearing Wells’ face again, a familiar little half-smile playing around his lips. His suit is wet. It isn’t the suit — not the yellow one — just a regular one. Plain. Black. The fabric clings to his shoulders and his hair is dripping in his eyes. His feet are bare too, and somehow it feels wrong to see them, the fine slender bones gleaming wetly. Too intimate.

Barry swallows and looks away, but even when he concentrates, it refuses to change. Figures, that even in a dream Thawne would cause him grief. When Barry doesn’t reply, Thawne playfully hums a few bars of something vaguely familiar.

Barry looks back at him, and when Thawne sees him looking, he smiles wider and gleefully stomps his way through a puddle. Sings, “If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do…”

Favorite dialogue (excerpt): “At least,” Eobard interrupts, thoughtfully tapping his finger against his lips. Slowly, he starts to grin. “Not everything. So, Mr. Allen, I’ll ask you again. What do you want?”

The answer is written all over Barry’s face. There’s a story there, behind the pain, the grief, the hopeless lust, and it’s one that Eobard knows he’ll get to live out himself over the course of the next year. He wonders just how many times he fucked this boy before the truth came out. The boy — his Barry — already loves him. Not like this, of course, not yet, but a hero worshiping kind that he’s had since day one.

“Well?” He coaxes, eyes widening. “I’m waiting.”

Barry wets his lips convulsively and swallows, his adam’s apple working. He tugs on the cuff, halfheartedly, mouth turned downwards. He didn’t expect this. Maybe he’d expected closure. Or maybe he’d convinced himself that all he really needed was the formula. But he wants this. And Eobard’s going to make him say it.

“I want you,” he confesses unhappily, a charming pucker between his brows. His eyes dart back up, not shying away for once, to meet Eobard’s. A little bit of steel creeps into his expression again, and Eobard wants to applaud him all over again. What a beautiful creature he’s created.

“Just you,” he adds, just as quiet and unhappy, but with a dawning comprehension. “Eobard Thawne.”

A shiver crawls down his spine, dick twitching in his pants. God, it’s good to hear that name again. “Oh, Mr. Allen,” he breathes. “Say it again, won’t you?”

Favorite lines (excerpt):

Jonathan had known that they’d done this before. After all, he was sort of a witness to it. But up close it’s something else, it’s poetry in motion, the way that Nancy’s head tips back, the bead of sweat that slides down the tip of Steve’s nose, how her legs wrap around his waist, her small feet locking at the dip of Steve’s spine.

It’s beautiful, and his fingers itch for his camera, so he fumbles around beside him, stretching his arm out to his desk until he catches the strap and can tug it into his hands. He watches them through the lens of his camera for a moment before he gets up the courage to touch, tapping Steve with his foot and then gesturing with the camera, head cocked.

Can I?

Steve’s entire face transforms when he laughs, going bright with emotion. He nudges Nancy until she glances over and then she’s laughing too, and they’re both nodding.

He catches them both mid laugh, naked limbs flung around each other. And then he catches the moment that the laughter turns to something else, mouths half-parted in breathless pleasure. He catches the curve of Nancy’s breast and the freckle behind Steve’s ear, and then he waits, breathless, for the right moment.

He waits and waits, and the moment that they both go still, bodies shaking with pleasure, mouth caught on soundless moans-

Click.

He swallows, lowering the camera as it spits the picture out with a hiss, and holds it in his hand, watching them. Their eyes are closed, breathless little smiles across their faces, sweat on their brows. Steve hasn’t even pulled out of her.

Click.

Fic goals: Finish Sabriel AU. That’s it. My only other writing-related goal is to get out of this funk, write something big (which will hopefully be the Sabriel AU) and something original. Fingers crossed.

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One thing that I don't feel gets discussed very often is how isolating entrepreneurship can be. I am lucky enough to have made low 7 figures in my early twenties, but I literally can't relate to people and feel very out of place. Maybe an older entrepreneur who has dealt with this can chime in.When I was still in university, I couldn't really relate to any of the people there because I was hyper-focused on business, and as a result made next to no friends. This is likely magnified due to the fact that I was mildly disabled in my mid-teens. My health issue prevented me from doing a lot of things and the first year I was in college, and to make matters worse I had to take opiates as well as things like gabapentin for my chronic pain, which meant it was really really fucking hard to think. If anyone here has taken gabapentin, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. It's a really really shitty time.Anyways, I noticed people also treated me very differently when I mentioned I had health issues, so I never really brought them up even though they were pretty serious and the same went for anything related to the ventures I was pursuing. Most people would just laugh at me if I told them what I planned on doing with my businesses and dismissed me, especially because I didn't have the best grades.Anyways, at this point I decided most people are fucking assholes, especially the yuppie scum that are so prevalent where I live, so I decided to focus solely on creating businesses I liked.During my late tweens/early twenties, I spent ~80 hours to ~100 hours a week working. Literally spent 0 time doing any sort of social activities other than grinding sales calls, negotiating, etc... This whole time I was still taking opiates and suffering from pretty bad chronic pain. It was probably made worse by the businesses I was pursuing but I knew I had to make a lot of money quickly because if I ended up in worse health in the future, I'd be shit out of luck.After a few failed businesses and some zombies, I ended up with a few businesses that do very well. If I wanted to, I could retire now and just feed off the passive income from them, maybe working like 2 - 5 hours a week but I'm not some sort of pathetic yuppie lifestyle entrepreneur. Every time one business is no longer reliant on me (or even before), I find some sort of newer and riskier idea to pursue. It's almost like I'm addicted to the risk.Anyways, after that terrible time, I got super lucky and ended up in much better health to where I am today. The problem now is that I really can't relate to anyone my own age or even most people in their 30s. I have next to no friends, just acquaintances and business partners. I've never had a girlfriend because most people I know are way too stupid for me to hang around with for more than 6 hours at a time, woman included. I used to spend time networking with people and giving free advice to people looking to start businesses, but they rarely follow through, which has made me pretty jaded. I also find they can rarely give me the same level of value I can provide them, so it's a waste of my time.My business partners are good people, but I still can't relate to them because they wasted their 20s then got semi-serious in their 30s and I happen to take them along for the ride. At first I thought I'm some sort of douchebag with a huge ego, but then I noticed the same thing with like 3 of my businesses where the only common link between them was me. The only reason I took these guys on as partners initially is because they could put in sweat that I required. IE someone to be somewhere physically and manage a location. Now that I have cash, I no longer require them and they are redundant, just feeding off the equity I gave them early on because I couldn't afford to hire the sweat I needed. They haven't taken the time to learn & grow the same way I have and they refuse to learn more which is incredibly frustrating.Anyways, I have some friends that are successful entrepreneurs around my age, but I can't relate to them really either because their parents literally gave them $100k to start a business. They are smart, but not really that smart because they had 100k to start with and their businesses are things where it's hard to fail with a 6 figure start. One of them has literally had his mommy loan him like $300k and brags about how successful his business is and even refers to himself as self-made, which is the dumbest fucking thing I've heard....and of course, the cherry here is that I really can't relate to normal people. When I'm talking to people I meet, their life is super boring to the point where I have trouble feigning interest in what they're saying. 90% of people don't seem to really be doing much with their life, which irks me more than anything because I feel they're not really appreciating what they have. The other 10% that are usually too stupid to hang out with, like these morons relying on Amazon Affiliate programs. Whenever I go to some sort of mixer, it's full of those fuckers. (Pro tip; you make your money when you sell a company so you want a business that jacks that multiplier up as high as possible. Businesses relying on Amazon have shitty multipliers which means all you're really making is whatever you take home each month VS a real business with a 7 - 10x EBITDA multiplier.)Anyways, if you're on the entrepreneurial grind right now and you're not dumber than a bag of rocks, get ready to find it difficult to make new friends. It gets even worse when you start making more money because then you realize a lot of people just want to be your friend because you have money and you're capable of giving them value that they can't reciprocate. Lately I've just been hanging around with homeless people, eating meals with them because they're pretty cool sometimes but they're also usually crazy which means they don't make very good friends, but they are genuinely appreciative which is nice.Oh also when you collect that first fat paycheck, it will validate all the feelings you've ever had but...you won't get the same killer rush you felt when you made your first dollar and you're probably never going to stop trying to solve bigger and bigger problems. An interesting thing I noticed is that I still risk 40% - 50% of my net worth on new ventures. The dollar numbers keep getting bigger but if a business doesn't have a good amount of risk, it's really fucking boring and you might as well get into something for entitled morons like real estate.All that said, I've decided to focus future ventures on things that will tangibly make the world a better place since I feel those are real problems that are much more difficult to solve than what I was previously working on so maybe I'll get some fulfillment out of that. Sorry about the douchey rant.I definitely came across as some sort of weird douchebag, but that's literally what will happen to you if you make bank at a young age.Edit: Of course someone PMs me a pitch to invest in their YouTube channel. Here's a tip..YouTube organic reach is dying just like FB and if you build a business relying on organic reach, you will get fucked.