#fic review?

[aropride]

[stemmmm]

if you havent read my wife's gf fanfic WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!

(no sound)

[ficwip]

fic writer asks

revised from last year's questions!

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

How many fics did you work on this year? (They don’t have to be finished or published!)

What’s something you learned about yourself as a writer?

What piece of media inspired you the most?

What fandom(s) did you write for this year?

What ship(s) captured your heart?

What character(s) captured your heart?

Did you write for a new fandom or ship this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write? Did you finish it?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics this year?

Rec a fic you wrote or posted in 2023

What were you go-to writing songs?

What were your go-to writing snacks?

What was the hardest fic to title?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share an excerpt from your favorite scene

Share the final version of a sentence or paragraph you struggled with. What about it was challenging? Are you happy with how it turned out?

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What did you use to write? (e.g. writing programs, paper & pen, etc.)

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What’s something that you want to write in 2024?

[principalinstigator]

sometimes I think I was a bit delulu for this ship then I remember this is literally how Supergirl and Lena Luthor met

[calif0rnia-lovers]

safe place.

an: ngl, I wanted to hug jude & bukayo through the screen when England lost😔

requested: I remember seeing that Jude said his mom helps him when he gets "too low with the lows or too high with the highs." Can you do a fic where his gf is that way?

pairing: jude bellingham x black!reader

series: lyrically inspired tales.

if my heart aches, you breathe with me at my pace.

song: safe place by ruthanne

warnings: this is most definitely not edited lol.

The stadium lights had dimmed, and the roar of the crowd had faded into a distant memory, replaced by a haunting silence. Jude Bellingham sat in the quiet of his hotel room, the weight of the Euro final's loss pressing heavily on his shoulders. Exhaustion seeped into his bones—physically, mentally, and emotionally he was tapped. The missed shot that could have changed everything replayed in his mind, a tormenting loop of what-ifs and if-onlys.

He felt utterly drained, each breath a reminder of the effort he had poured into the match. The worst part about losing was feeling like he was at his lowest, despite all the hard work and dedication he had poured in for his country. The memory of the silver medal being draped over his shoulder, the relentless flashes of cameras, and the disappointed faces of fans loomed over him like a dark cloud. He had tried to keep his head up, stopping to hug each of his teammates, whispering words of encouragement, but it still hurt like hell. He had forced a brave face, stifling the sting in his eyes, reassuring his family and friends that he was alright. Keeping up the front until he reached his room had been a monumental task, and now, alone in the dim light, the facade crumbled.

He stared blankly at the wall, the ache of disappointment settling deep within his chest. Hours seemed to drag by, each minute stretching into an eternity. His phone was on Do Not Disturb. Although he knew the messages were meant with the best intentions, Jude wasn’t ready to read the encouraging texts sent to him. He hadn't spoken to anyone since the bus doors closed, needing space to process the defeat alone. The team’s efforts, the dreams of a nation, all seemed to hang on that one moment when his shot had veered just slightly off course.

A knock at the door broke through his reverie. Jude ignored it at first, unwilling to face anyone. If he didn’t call out, whoever it was would go away. But then it came again. 

A single knock, followed by three softer knocks, a distinct rhythm that was all too familiar. It was a special knock. Your special knock, a signal that meant more than words ever could. It prompted him to rise from the bed and cross the room.

Your interaction at the stadium was still a blur. A rushed kiss against his lips, nose, and forehead, a whispered “I love you so much,” was all he could receive before he was moving through the line of friends and family. In the few short hours that had passed, you had showered and changed.

When he opened the door, Jude found you standing there with your travel backpack pressed against your chest.

Jude paused to take you in, grounding himself by focusing on your familiar features. It was a routine he had built over the last six months of your relationship, a way to find solace in the midst of chaos. His eyes passed over your smooth, deep brown skin, which seemed to glow softly in the dim light. He traced the contours of your face, from your cheekbones to your lips that carried a gentle, reassuring smile. The sight of it relaxed the furrow of his brow.

Your eyes, warm and filled with understanding, were his favorite feature. They held a depth of emotion and wisdom that made him feel seen and understood. Your lashes framed them perfectly, long and curled, adding to the natural beauty that always took his breath away. His gaze traveled up to the soft curls, pineappled at the top of your head, his hand instinctively reaching forward.

As he studied you, taking in every detail—his touch tracing the curve of your jaw before settling against your cheek—he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

"Hi," you greeted softly, your voice a balm to his battered spirit.

Jude managed a weak smile, the corners of his lips lifting. "Hey," he replied, his voice rough.

You stepped inside, Jude’s hand instinctively settling on your hips as the door closed.

The scent of lavender and chamomile wafted from the bag you carried, filling the room with a calming aroma. It was a scent that lingered on the sheets of each hotel room Jude stayed in, his bedroom at home, and even in his shirts and jerseys. He associated it with you, and only you—a fragrance that instantly brought relaxation and comfort. Whenever you couldn't make it to his games, Jude would find the aromatherapy tucked away in his bag, a thoughtful gesture that made him feel close to you even when apart.

“My flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow,” you began as you unzipped the bag. Gathering what you needed, you started towards the bathroom. “So, I’ll probably leave here at 7. I’m sure traffic is going to be insane.”

Jude listened to your voice, the calm cadence soothing his frayed nerves. You didn’t expect a response; you knew him well enough to understand that after a loss, he needed time to recover. So, you verbally went through your travel plans. The turnaround was quick, but you needed to report to work. While slightly annoying, the plan was simple: report home, get back to work, and into your routine. Jude would soon follow.

As you focused on starting the bath, Jude began to look through the items you bought. His hand paused on something small and familiar, tucked beneath his favorite snacks—a stuffed lion. He picked it up, a wave of bittersweet memories washing over him. The lion had a soft, golden mane and big, friendly eyes. Stitched into the pad of its right paw was a heart. Jude remembered the day he won it for you at the Ice Palace, the way your face had lit up with joy, your smile so wide and genuine it had made his heart swell.

"My lion," you’d giggled, hugging the plush toy tightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, your laughter ringing in his ears. “I can keep him with me when you’re away.”

You paused in the bathroom doorway, watching him hold the stuffed lion. "That always makes me feel better when we're apart," you said softly, a smile finding your lips as the shared memory hung between the two of you.

You began to take out and explain the things you had brought to cheer him up—a selection of his favorite snacks, your iPad full of movies, and some comforting toiletries. "I brought these because I thought they might help you relax. And I know how much you love Shawshank Redemption. So...being the gracious, loving girlfriend I am, I will sit through it for the hundredth time. But, only if you promise to share your sour st-"

You were mid-sentence when he moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind. For a moment, you stayed that way, the warmth of his embrace speaking louder than words. Jude buried his face in your shoulder, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to escape.

You could feel the tremors in his body, his grip tightening as if you were his anchor in the storm of his emotions.

"It's okay," you whispered, turning to face him, the warmth of your palms against his cheeks lifting his eyes to yours. "You gave it everything you had, and that's all anyone can ask for. I'm so proud of you, Jude. You’ve come so far, and this is just a moment in your journey. It's okay to feel hurt and disappointed, but remember that you are stronger than this. Everything happens exactly when it's meant to."

Finally, the dam broke, and Jude rested against you, the tears he’d managed to keep at bay all night came pouring out. He remained pressed against you until the stress of the past few months drained his eyes dry. He allowed you to lead him to the bathroom, welcoming the warm, fragrant steam filled the room, creating a cocoon of comfort. 

He allowed you to help him undress, your movements tender and deliberate, as if you were peeling away not just his clothes but also the layers of his hurt.

"Let's get you in," you murmured softly, as his lips brushed against yours, guiding him into the tub. Jude eased himself into the warm water, letting out a deep sigh as the heat began to soothe his aching muscles and weary mind.

You stepped back to gather the other things you had brought, but Jude's hand gently traced soothing circles into your thigh as you stood by the tub. The simple touch spoke volumes, a silent plea for your presence, for you to stay close.

Jude leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he let the warmth of the bath wash over him. The exhaustion and frustration that had gripped him began to loosen, replaced by a growing sense of peace. He listened as you moved around the room, lighting a few candles and setting out the items you had brought—a fluffy towel, his favorite shampoo, and a soft robe for when he got out. 

You joined Jude in the tub, settling behind him. He welcomed the loofah against his skin, the gentle, rhythmic motion of your hands soothing his frayed nerves. You massaged his shoulders, careful with the one that had been previously injured, as he rested back against you. His hand found its place on his leg, grounding him as he watched the movie playing on the tablet propped nearby.

Your touch worked magic, and you could feel his body gradually relaxing. The tension that had coiled within him slowly unwound, and he seemed to be coming back to himself. The voice in his head, the one that echoed with doubt and personal criticism, grew quieter with each passing moment. Each gentle kiss you pressed against his skin, each laugh you shared from the film, chipped away at the walls of his frustration.

By the time most of the bubbles had dissipated, Jude was completely relaxed. His gratefulness showed in the way he gently squeezed your thigh and the soft kisses he brushed against your knuckles. The warmth of the water, combined with your presence, created a cocoon of comfort and safety. 

He tilted his head back slightly, letting it rest against your shoulder, eyes half-closed in contentment. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, fingers tracing small circles on his chest. "You don’t have to," you replied softly. "I’m here, always."

Jude sighed, a deep, contented breath that seemed to release the last of his lingering tension. He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, a silent thank you for being his anchor in the storm. The doubts that had plagued him earlier were now a distant memory.

The kiss he left against your lips was soft, almost sloppy. The physical and mental strain he's been under from Real Madrid and the Euros suddenly registering. His body begging for sleep.

"Let's get you outta here," you giggled. "I don't think I can carry you to bed if you fall asleep."

You press against the corner of his mouth, the action stopping the closing of his heavy eyelids. "Come on, Jude."

"Mmm...hold up..." Jude mumbled, eyes drifting shut as your lips brushed against his. Brow arching, his smirk prompting your eyes to roll. "...I'm not even tired."

"Uh-huh," stifling your giggle, you watch as Jude nods. His heavy eyes blinking before dropping down to your smile.

"'m not," he mumbled, his kiss missing your lips and settling on your chin.

A series of soft and light kiss lingered against your jaw, drifting to your shoulder. As much as he tried to fight off the comfortable sleeping tugging at him, Jude couldn't resist. By the time he reached your lips, a tired and goofy smile stretched across Jude's lips.

"Alright," he relented. "Let's go, but we gonna finish this in the morning."

"I'm sure we will," you smiled.

You place a final kiss against his lips. The brushing of your nose against his pulling out the smile that left you the victim of constant butterflies and euphoria. Before Jude knew it, the words slipped out.

"I love you," he murmured, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate promise. "Thanks for this."

The words halted your movement of slipping from beneath him, your eyes widening slightly in surprise. It was the first time he had said it aloud. You had never pressured him for those words, knowing that he showed his love in countless other ways. Just as you did for him.

"I love you too, Jude," you replied as his lips found your forehead.

Letting his lips pass over your nose, Jude pushed himself.

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

more phanart for more phanfic that ive recently read and enjoyed quq I Do Not Trust the World With You by @too-much-tma-stuff is a very interesting fun-to-me romp through action scenes and boundaries and ghost culture and this is one of my fave scenes from it

presenting your BF with the decapitated head of his killer is peak romance okay

author, tysm for sharing your work w/us!!!

halftone, gradient, blood spatter

Jason's flowery BG is from ibispaintx. City BG is also traced/referenced from ibispaintx bg stock :3

[bloodbruise]

@jegulus-microfic | april 7: regret | 2,011 words | NSFW

sometimes your best friend's brother is so hot you just have to jerk off about it.

Fucked. 

That’s what James was—completely and irrevocably fucked.

He couldn't claim ignorance; he'd seen it coming from a mile away. The change had been gradual, an ever-present whisper he failed to quiet. The subtle shift from looking at Regulus and seeing Sirius’ younger brother to looking at him and seeing Regulus. His continued presence at his and Sirius’ place had casual conversation turning into inside jokes, quips and jabs traded back and forth–James loved it when Regulus was a little mean to him. It turned into movie nights and visits at Regulus' job. 

All of it was fuel to a slowly kindling fire.

So, really, he had no one else but himself to blame when he got burned. Scorched, actually. 

It was a casual favor–helping Regulus move because Sirius had gotten held up at work. It was supposed to be nothing, just helping out a friend, something he would do for anyone in his life. Something he did without a second thought because that was James’ Thing. But, he really should have thought it through. Because watching Regulus, who was usually so impeccably composed, now disheveled and glistening with sweat, was an exercise in restraint. James’ mind was in a tailspin, fixated on lithe muscles moving beneath skin, flush from exertion high on his cheeks, messy hair pushed back and curls barely controlled by a headband.

James had been so normal about it all, truly, given the circumstances. Silently commending himself on his raw unadulterated strength for not jumping Regulus right then and there– he was playing it so cool. But everything teetered on the edge of collapse when Regulus, busy trying to put his couch back together, asked James to fetch the other screwdriver from the box beside his bed. 

To James’ credit, there were a lot of boxes there, so he naturally went with the one closest to the headboard. And later, when Sirius chewed him out for wanting to fuck his younger brother, he would blame it on that fucking screwdriver. Because when he lifted the lid, the contents inside hit him like a physical blow. The room spun. He was going to fucking faint. 

Inside the box was... Christ. It was overwhelming. Toys, lots of them, lined up all pretty and careless and innocent. Like they weren't going to kill him right on the spot. His eyes caught on the purple one, how thick it was. His mind oscillated between stupor, awe, and undeniable arousal, only snapped back to reality by Regulus' voice, muffled from down the hall.

“James? Did you find it?” 

In a panic, he slammed the lid shut and scrambled for another box. “Uh-huh, yeah,” he called back, nodding to himself, still dazed. “Found it, found it.”

With the screwdriver finally in hand, James re-entered the living room, his cheeks flushed and a strained smile on his lips. He passed it over to Regulus and awkwardly clasped his hands in front of him, attempting to conceal the evident bulge in his pants. He had intended to stay, they had planned for dinner afterwards–Regulus’ treat for his help. But now, his thoughts were a vortex, endlessly spiraling around Regulus and those toys and–.  

Voice too high and a little thready, he hastily blurted, “Okay, we got all the boxes, right? Yeah, okay, all set,” thumb jerking towards the door, “I forgot- I actually have to go, yeah.” Nodding to himself. He was aware that he probably looked insane, but staying was not an option. Not when every thought was a hazard. So he just stumbled through a weak excuse, pointedly ignoring the puzzled look on Regulus’ face, and rushed home. His grip flexing hard on the steering wheel and music blasting the entire time, because he was sure if he let his mind wander he would veer off the side of the road and crash his car.

It was only in the safety of his own room that he allowed himself to unravel. He twists the doorknob, pulling on it to ensure that it’s locked. His mind going straight back to that box, to Regulus, and his imagination runs. 

Fully clothed, pants a mess–precum everywhere– he shoves them down. Just far enough so he can get a hand around himself, not even bothering to move to the bed. He knows the intimate details of what the inside of Regulus’ bedroom looks like. So there’s a crystal clear image that he can’t shake. Regulus, legs spread wide and fucking himself—his head thrown back, hips twitching up and opening so sweetly around a toy. There was something so erotic about the thought of Regulus coming home, maybe even from James’ place, and taking care of himself. Stuffing himself full until he was crying out and shaking with it.

Was it drawn out–slow? Did he take his time and open himself up with his fingers first? Or was he usually too worked up and eager to wait, just sinking down and reveling in the burn? Did he ever use a vibrator at the same time? It was delicious, the idea of Regulus being pleasure-drunk by his own hand. James knew if it was him, he would be insatiable, would force one more and another one please, baby out of Regulus until he was sobbing. James needed to see it, thought he might die without it. 

A whimper rips from his throat at the mere thought of it– picturing himself at the foot of Regulus’ bed, content to just watch, to be so good for him. His movements become more frantic, hand working over himself faster. He pulls up his shirt and bites down on the fabric, head falling back against the door. In his mind, he wonders if Regulus would chide him for being bad, when James would finally break and scramble over to him. If he would let out a noise of protest when he pushes Regulus’ hand away and takes over, gripping the base and fucking him. He imagines how he would react when James crowds into his space, licking into his mouth and swallowing down his moans.

James is close when he thinks about Regulus’ eyes half shut and rolling back, body arching against him. How he would feel under his palm if he dragged it down the plane of his chest, if he raked his fingers through the hair under his belly button. Fuck. The thought of what it would feel like to touch between his legs, feel him wet and warm and dripping on his fingers. He’s almost there, movements getting more urgent. He starts circling his thumb over his sensitive tip with every upstroke. Has to grab at his own throat to ground himself, squeezing for just a little pressure because his body is feeling so good that it's floating up, up, up.

When James finally breaks, its with a weak, breathless, “ah- fuck R- Reg.” He makes a mess of himself. Back arching off the door, coming in ropes across his chest and dripping sloppily over his hand. He stays there for a while, slumped against the door, twitching with aftershocks. It’s only after his breath returns to its regular pattern that he moves, grimacing slightly as he sheds the rest of his clothes in a crumpled heap.

Nevermind the guilt of jerking off to his best friend’s brother, his own friend–his mind was reeling. James had convinced himself that it would help, to get it out of his system and be done with it. Deep down, though, he knew that wasn't possible. He knew that indulging himself would only pull him deeper into his spiral of obsession with Regulus. It was a little fucked up, but he couldn't find it in himself to regret it.

Exhausted, he collapsed onto the bed, a groan escaping him. The images and thoughts of Regulus were still there, but they were shifting. Had he ever used them on anyone else? What would it be like if he used them on James?

Against the mattress, James let out a heady moan. His forehead was slick with sweat, hair clinging to his skin. He found himself rocking hips involuntarily, pushing his spent cock into the bed. God, would Regulus top him? Fuck him with his strap and tell him he takes him so well. Oh, would he make him suck on it too? The overstimulation from the lack of respite was deliciously painful. He bit down on the sheets, grinding against them as he reached out clumsily and fumbled for the lube in the bedside table.

This second time was just as desperate. Lube in hand, James coated his fingers. So messy–glistening on his hand the same way he imagined it would look after pulling it from Regulus’ cunt. He drew his knees up under himself, breath picking up again and chest heaving against the mattress. His glasses askew and head turned to the side, he was looking back as best as he could at where his fingers were circling his hole.

He eased one finger in. He didn't feel nearly full enough but there's a slight burn– a reminder that he hasn’t done this in so long. He wishes Regulus were here to stroke his cheek, his neck. For him to press down on where James’ hand is inside of himself and tell him, “You can take more baby, I know you can. Need it, hm?”

James is gasping with the thought, mouth open and drooling a bit. He can’t bring himself to care though. He briefly pulls his finger out, swiping hastily at his stomach where his cum hasn't dried and mixing it with the lube before he’s pushing back in, another alongside it. 

“Christ” he swears to himself. It’s a little clumsy, an awkward angle. His own fingers are a little too thick to move them fluently. He thinks it wouldn’t be like that with Regulus. In his mind, Regulus would work his fingers inside him with the same poise and deadly precision that he does everything else. He’d probably talk him through it too, breath hot against his ear as he teased James for being so needy, for wanting to be filled. It would have James on the edge in minutes, and that thought alone is so hot that James can't even feel shameful about it.

He shifts, pushing up on one arm and arches his back, so he can drive his fingers deeper. He slips in another finger. He’s so– so worked up, body so warm. Sweat beads on his neck, trailing down and pooling where his back curves. Both of his arms ache with the strain, but he’s too far gone to notice. Too caught up in the slide of his fingers, lost to the thought that even three of them were still not as thick as the purple toy in Regulus’ room. He’s pretty sure he’s making noise, he can't really tell though. Everything’s gone a bit fuzzy from the pleasure. 

He knows he’s loud when he comes though. He finds the spot that has him going weak, almost buckling the arm that's holding him up. It’s overwhelming, he focuses on a few hard presses of his fingers right there and he's coming. A broken sob wracking his body as he gives into it,  writhing against the feeling, ruining himself even more. He draws it out as long as he can, fingers moving relentlessly until his nerves sing with raw sensitivity. He slips them out before collapsing into the mattress, just breathing.

He can't help but laugh at himself-–thinks it's a little pathetic. That one accidental peek into a box has left him lying here, covered in his own sweat and spend. And yet, his mind is still running over the possibilities. A constant loop of Regulus and toys and straps. A low whine escapes him at the idea of going another round, his cock already twitching at the mere thought.

And through the haze of it all, the pleasure and the embarrassment and the Regulus, he can only make sense of one thing: 

He is so utterly fucked.

[anna-scribbles]

what a shame, i can see it all now that we’re through

- firearm by lizzy mcalpine

(chapter 5 of call it even is making me feel bonkers insane. thank u @sha-nwa)

[drarryspecificrecs]

2024.08 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3

1. The Emerald Room by echostep [M, 181k]

►While working a psychology internship, Harry Evans is presented with the challenge of analysing Draco Black, a mysterious patient who spends his days writing on the walls of his hospital room. But when the story of ‘Malfoy’ and ‘Potter’, a Dark Lord, and a magic castle starts to sound familiar, Harry struggles to find his place in a world that no longer remembers him.

2. The Art of Getting By by @thusspoketrish [E, 149k]

►This is a story about love. Draco is on a desperate mission to escape the devastating voice controlling his life, taunting him about his past, and cursing his future. As he reaches his breaking point, he’s sent to a psychiatric hospital, rendered mute, and struggles to find meaning in moving forward. Harry, grappling with his own demons, has been spiralling out of control with an unchecked temper. Unable to escape the anger that has consumed him, he finds himself involuntarily committed, believing that there’s little hope in achieving the semblance of normalcy he craves post-war. Their paths collide, and fate proves how beautiful and cruel it can be.

3. The No Divorce Clause by @coffeedrgn87 [E, 144k]

►Haunted by the war’s aftermath, Harry Potter flees his old life, searching for peace in far-flung corners of Europe. But peace proves elusive when he unexpectedly crosses paths with Draco Malfoy. In a world where magic lingers just beneath the surface, their journey takes them through enchanted cities and ancient secrets, testing the boundaries between rivalry and something far deeper. With unresolved tension crackling between them, Harry and Draco face a slow-burning connection that neither can ignore. As they navigate heartbreak, danger, and the shadows of their past, they’ll discover that the hardest battle isn’t always against dark wizards—it’s against the walls they've built around their hearts.

4. Out of the Dark by Chioces [T, 127k]

►Ten years after the war, most Slytherins have either been executed or gone into hiding. A few, like Draco, exist on the outskirts of society. Not that Draco minds, his life is simple and respectable. He runs a business he loves and keeps his head down. It's not perfect, but for Draco, it's more than enough. That is, until he makes the ill-advised decision to help a very drunk Harry Potter. Potter, true to form, takes this as an open invitation to not only invade Draco's home, but also to drag Draco into the political mess that Wizarding Britain has become. [...]

5. Lifeguards by patrick11stump [M, 123k]

►Draco Malfoy is simply trying to get on with life working at a muggle pool as a lifeguard. That is until a certain trio of troublemakers decides to come to HIS pool and change everything in his simple, stress-free life.

6. When We Were Lost (We Found Each Other) by spifty_one [E, 110k]

►If there was one thing Harry Potter could count on in his life, it was a guaranteed lack of boredom. So, it really shouldn't have come as a surprise that as he was making his way through Diagon Alley to the nearest Apparation point-the one day a month he ventured out of 12 Grimmauld Place-that he passes by an altercation that was absurdly unevenly matched. His whole world turns on its head from there. He just doesn't know it yet.

7. A love story by Year_ofthe_Rabbit [?, 98k]

►Draco Malfoy is just doing his best to keep his head down and get by as he counts down the days until the end of his probation. He clings to his secret dream of finding a way out of the drugery to earn his potions mastery, counting every knut and sickle he can scrape into his savings. His only indulgence is his weekly trip to Sereni-Tea, a cosey shop welcoming even to a convicted death eater. And Harry Potter, who came out of no where and is determined to make himself a part of Draco's life. [...]

8. One Starry Knight by @ferretboyandpotty [E, 93k]

►A story told through Draco’s perspective as he goes through life as a bored Prince, sad knowing he has to marry a woman he doesn’t love. Hope is well and truly out the window until Sir Harry Potter, the kingdom’s most popular Knight, is hired at the castle, and he shows Draco things he’s never experienced before. In one way or...another. There are troubles that lie ahead for both of them, mainly one being a deliciously evil King Lucius Malfoy. Angst, adventures and copious amounts of romance.

9. Show Me by VanessaCG [E, 77k]

►Nine years after the war, and Harry thinks he's fine. All right, his work is all-consuming and his social life is woeful. [...] Draco has spent years trying to establish himself as someone of worth to Wizarding Society, albeit in a reclusive, understated way. Throwing himself into his business in an attempt to manage his own anxieties and ignore the nagging voice telling him that he's not good enough, his private little world is at least safe and comfortable. Or as safe as he can make it. But when famous Harry Potter shows up in his shop after nine years, everything looks set to be turned on its head.

10. Hearts Need Change by Adora_Slytherin [M, 75k]

►Draco spends his days at the manor just like any other day. It feels like everything is the same until he chooses to change that. /// Featuring: Soft Draco, tea time, baking and lots of fluff hopefully.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 15k

※ Word count: 15k ~ 40k

All I Ask of You by veradubhghoill [E, 36k]

Beneath the Masks We Wear by Dbenny [T, 18k]

In Deep Water by @mallstars [E, 39k]

Kiss me on my pretty lips, I'd tear my soul out for a piece of this by fairies_withspirits [E, 15k]

Kitchen dancing to bad 90’s music by Big_dog_energy [?, 19k]

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A Smarter Hat Than Me by @enparallel [E, 32k]

Sore by rubygreene [E, 38k]

Viewer's Discretion by @mintyelbows [E, 21k]

The War of Souls by @ladyrava [G, 30k]

you weren't supposed to die (before I could kiss you) by @dobbyrockssocks [T, 28k]

—

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HP Soulmates Fest 2024 | @hp-soulmates

[kcrabb88]

I feel like we really lost something when we started looking at writing as a reader-centric product meant to appeal to the desires of a specific audience rather than a writer-centric approach of someone writes whatever particular thing particular compels them/whatever weird thing the demons in their head want to talk about, and people out there who are also compelled, and/or relate, find that writing. A lot of discussions of writing really center around what readers want rather than a writer's exploration. Sometimes as a reader I don't know what I want. I click on a fic or pick up a book I'm not sure about but that looks interesting, and I love it. Reading what I expect to get is it's own joy, but we always need to expand our horizons and not get mad at creators for not always writing what we want/expect.

[hbyrde36]

Fanfic year-in-review-type-thingy🎉

Hello lovely people 🥂 Here's to another great year of fic, fandom, and friendship in the books! And hopefully many more to come!!

In 2024 I completed 3 fics I began in 2023:

The Crawl (WC: 23,009)

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy) (WC: 73,419)

No Vacancy (WC: 58,586)

I also completed and posted:

Burnin' For You (WC: 7,130)

Honey, You're Familiar (WC: 2,998)

Hellfire Ink (WC: 10,359)

I Don't Think We're In Hawkins Anymore, Big Boy (WC: 17,561)

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition) (WC: 76,654)

It's Only Forever (WC: 43,574)

As well as various other ficlets, drabbles, and microfics

In 2025 I'd like to complete:

Midsummer Nights (WC: 6,858 and counting)

Fuggi Regal Fantasima (WC: 8,784 and counting)

Caught In The Undertow (WC: 32,564 and counting)

Forever After (un-posted sequel to It's Only Forever)

In 2025 I'd like to start:

haha, nice try 🤫

But really, my WIP ideas folder overfloweth still, even this many years in. I know the Steddie hyper fixation has come and gone for some but i'm still here baby, and I couldn't be happier.

No pressure tags 😘 @penny00dreadful @pearynice @firefly-party @sidekick-hero @devondespresso

@dreamwatch @thefreakandthehair @vegasol @griefabyss69 @momotonescreaming

@tinytalkingtina @little-annie @steddiecameraroll @thisusernameisunavailable01 @medusapelagia

@eriquin @rocknrollsalad @spectrum-spectre @mugloversonly @mentallyundone

I didn't want to tag TOO many people so please, if you'd like to play along with any sort of New Year post, consider yourself tagged!

Happy New Year, besties, mutuals, and all! 💜

[ekingston]

| By Way of Wit | rated M | COMPLETE |

The jury summons arrives on a Friday.

“You have to get yourself disqualified,” Alex says.

Kara frowns. “What about my civic duty?”

Her sister ignores her. She’s on her phone, already finding her an out. “Your occupation should qualify you for an exemption,” she discovers. “It says here, if you’re full-time military, or a firefighter, or a cop—”

Kara holds the letter up for Alex to read. “They didn’t summon Supergirl,” she says. “They summoned Kara Danvers, freelance food critic and full-time reporter.”

-

In which no one escapes jury duty, not even superheroes and celebrity CEOs, and when Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor end up in sequestration, well—the defense submits that there's more than one type of civic service.

[cha-melodius]

2024 Writing Roundup

This one went around last year but I don't THINK I've seen it turn up this year? If it has, please excuse me, especially if you tagged me. 😂

This month marks the 36th month in a row that I've published at least one fic—since January 2022. Insane, I know, but I'm very proud of this streak, especially keeping it going in the midst of writing/posting long fics. I published 17 fics this year, which was considerably fewer than my 31 last year, but my wordcount was almost the same (more stats coming in my year in review at the actual end of the year). Here they are, by month!

JANUARY

Trying My Patience (Try Pink Carnations) (RWRB, E, 5.7k) Florist!Henry and cake artist!Alex have to work together for a wedding last minute

FEBRUARY

Ain't No Place for a Better Man (Lokius, M, 3k) Old west AU, the notorious bandit Loki tangles with gun-for-hire Mobius

MARCH

False Dichotomy (RWRB, E, 62k) You've Got Mail AU, indie bookstore owner Alex and corporate bookstore heir Henry fall in love over email

APRIL

So Close to Something Better Left Unknown (RWRB, E, 20.2k) CIA agent Alex and MI6 agent Henry unwillingly collaborate a mission where Henry gets dosed with a sex pollen drug

The Hazards of Unsolicited Toy Advice (RWRB, T, 2.2k) Henry gives Alex dog toy advice at the pet store.

The Impossible Soul (RWRB, M, 7.2k) Westworld-esque AU. First Son Alex falls in love with an android named Henry at Kensington Palace

MAY

No Ordinary Friend (The Pairing, M, 3.5k) The Calums' story, from Monaco to Palermo

JUNE

Kiss Me Like You Mean It (Firstprince Edition) Kiss Me Like You Mean It (Lokius Edition) Various kiss ficlets from tumblr prompts

Body and Soul(mate) (RWRB, E, 39k) Soulmate bodyswap AU featuring MI6 agent Henry and lawyer Alex, who gets unwillingly pulled into the thick of a mission

JULY

Our Get Along Oodie (RWRB, E, 7.7k) Grad student AU; 3 times Alex and Henry were forced to share the couples oodie and 1 when they shared because they wanted to

AUGUST

Tonight, You're Gold (RWRB, M, 6k) Olympics AU feat. beach volleyball Alex and sailor Henry, accidental roommates in the Olympic Village

SEPTEMBER

Flowers Only Grow Where There Are Seeds (RWRB, T, 4.1k) FSOTUS Alex falls in love with a White House gardener

OCTOBER

Infinitely Late at Night (RWRB, T, 2.7k) Alex is pretty sure the man at the Waffle House in the middle of the night is a vampire

NOVEMBER

Desperate Measures (Lokius, T, 5.3k) When a mission gone wrong strands them on a hostile planet, Loki pushes himself to his limits in order to save Mobius' life

DECEMBER

Since I Memorized Your Face (RWRB, E, 24k) Alex and Henry hooked up in college and find each other 20 years later—oh yeah, and they're soulmates

Not the Hero (RWRB, E, 61k) Fall Guy AU. Stuntman Alex and Director Henry are exes who have to work together on a movie, until the lead actor disappears

[Redacted] (TMFU) My fill for the annual TMFU winter holiday gift exchange.

Ok! Tagging a bunch of folks! @cricketnationrise @rmd-writes @clottedcreamfudge @tintagel-or-cockleshells @firenati0n

@blueeyedgrlwrites @iboatedhere @pippinoftheshire @porcelainmortal @thesleepyskipper

@kiwiana-writes @justabigoldnerd @three-drink-amy @eusuntgratie @faketrex

@orchidscript @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @14carrotghoul @sparklepocalypse @too-young-to-fall-in-love

@welcometololaland @indestructibleheart @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @suseagull5914

@leaves-of-laurelin @nicijones @mirilyawrites @onthewaytosomewhere @getmehighonmagic

[poorlittlegreenie13]

You’re telling me Taissa was worried enough about Natalie to send her to rehab multiple times & say “who does Natalie have?” so sadly. But she didn’t check up on Van who was living alone, not paying her bills, not healthy, not happy ONCE… I DON’T BELIEVE IT. That kind of love doesn’t fade 😭.

[calaisreno]

2024: Year in Review

This year I posted 14 stories, fewer than any other year, but my word count still hovers around 300k, as it has for several years.

This was my first year writing for Fandom Trumps Hate. My story, written for the very generous and lovely @LHRinchelsea, was The Disappointed Optimist's Guide to Sharing a Flat with a Madman. It was so rewarding to participate that I plan to offer a story again this year.

My favorite story I've written this year is Déjà Vu, a closing chapter for the Off Axis series. I may write more for that series, but this one is a story that brought a lot of closure for our heroes and their friends.

My second favorite: This is Family, a fill-in story for The Final Problem (S4Ep3). I combined this into a series with People We Love, an aftermath story I wrote in 2023. "Solving" The Final Problem was a very satisfying endeavour.

I had great fun writing my first Harry-centric story in October, When Harry Met Mary.

I'm closing the year with a parallel story for When We Were Young. My Heart at Your Door will finish posting in January 2025.

This was my second year doing the May Prompts event. In 2023 there were only a few of us, but this past year, it took off in a big way. I think I was tagging over 30 people with the daily prompt! As always, it was a lot of fun. This year we had a number of people writing daily limericks, an activity that has continued for the rest of 2024, and I hope will still be going strong in 2025. Thank you @Friday411 for inspiring that!

My number one project for 2025 is The Secret of Agra, a fic that I've been writing since 2020. I've called it a White Whale, but it might be more of a Frankenstein. 😆 It is finally coming together, though, and I hope to post in 2025.

I don't have any other specific writing goals for 2025. I have quite a happy writing groove, and many WIP that I hope to complete.

I'd love to hear what you are planning for 2025, if you'd like to share! Tagging:

@keirgreeneyes @meetinginsamarra @totallysilvergirl @raina-at

@7-percent @lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @copperplatebeech

@discordantwords @chriscalledmesweetie @holmesianlove

@khorazir @jrow @thegildedbee @ghostofnuggetspast

And anyone I've forgotten!

[boopidyboopidyboop]

It's a mystery that this cat likes cuddling with him so much, but a bigger mystery that he lets it.

A gift for @papiliovolens :)

Go read their fic here!

:) All of them