#i dunno. i have too many wips on the go at the moment it's slowing me right down on everything.

[nostalgia-tblr]

Mobius is strange. I didn't like the "we pruned her" thing because idk if felt almost like a law and order episode. And it also felt like something loki might say 🤔

Well he is a cop, basically, isn't he? Good Cop and Bad Cop at the same time, with his attacks and his praise intermingled. Which must be a complete mindfuck to be faced with so he's probably really successful. I joke about the lokius praise kink thing but he does seem to have managed to make Loki eager to please him (and to thus receieve praise from him) really quickly.

"We pruned her" is really mean but as it's right next to the Actual Torture bit it kind of flies under fandom's radar a bit, plus shipping people tend to focus on how about three sentences later he's all "LOL u fancy her!!!" and THEN he says the narcissism thing which angers a different set of people so basically it's surrounded by wank-fodder such that it fails to become wank-fodder itself.

Alas for me people either don't want to write about Mobius at all or they want to write about his softer side, because no one wants to ship Loki with someone who's being manipulative and potentially abusing a position of power and if they do then Jeff Goldblum the Grandmaster is the obvious go-to character for that.

[signanothername]

Sooo... I'm back from the dead after dying from the overflow of too many positive emotions yesterday... (thanks for all the kind words 🩷)

And I'm back with another ask! Cool.

My question is not something necessarily related to the topic of the blog or anything, but rather about your artistic process?

So, personally I think many artists have those moments, or maybe specific paintings, that may just be emotionally draining. Like you're drawing a piece, and you don't like it for some reason, you try to change it, but you still don't like the painting, and you keep trying, but it's just something that's missing and you don't understand what it is and it just becomes frustrating and you start to get angry and-

Well, at least I seem to have such moments quite often (I dunno, maybe I'm just a perfectionist), and as far as I'm concerned different artists have their different ways to cope with this, so I wonder - do you have such moments sometimes and what do you usually do about it?

I'm sorry for the long ask I just can't keep things short and I'm just always curious about such things and the way different artists do stuff 😅

Hello!! Amazing to see you again! <33333 (of course!! Thank you for your kind words as well aaahh 😭❤️✨🌷)

As for your question, oooh boi, yes actually I have these moments A LOT, it’s cause i’m a perfectionist myself jdhdhdh

In fact, these kinda moments is why i sometimes give up on certain artworks or comics I make, and that’s why my wips just always seem to pile up, here are some examples of two artworks and a page of a comic I gave up on cause I just couldn’t for the life of me make them into what I wanted

And I will be lying to you if I said I have a solution for it or that I know how to deal with it

But I deal with it in two ways, I either completely delete the sketch i made and start over again

Or what I usually do is that I actually stop if i find the piece I’m working on emotionally draining, let go of the artwork and work on something else that i find fun, cause “giving up” doesn’t necessarily mean i will never get back to them, I see it as “taking a break” from the artwork till I get inspiration or motivation back to work on it again

Generally I’ve learned that in art, it’s ok to take things slow, I don’t always need to finish the artwork that I started before I start working on something else, in fact, taking things slow is how I made art much more enjoyable to me, cause it means I actually enjoy the process instead of treating it like there’s some sort of deadline above my head

To give you an example of what i mean, this artwork right here? Took me over 2 weeks to finish, not cause i couldn’t finish it quickly (in fact i can easily finish the same artwork in less than an hour) I just taught myself to take my time when making art, take things slow snd enjoy the process bit by bit, i worked on the quick sketch, closed it, then got back to it to work on cleaning it up multiple times, closed it again, then worked on coloring it and so on

And that’s also how i deal with artworks that make me frustrated, i take things slow, if i get frustrated then i simply close the artwork and work on something else till i have the motivation to work on what frustrated me again, that way i took a little break, and sometimes actually while working on something else you might get an idea on how to fix the artwork that frustrated you, but ultimately art is supposed to be fun not frustrating, so it’s ok not to finish artworks, it’s ok to abandon artworks if you don’t like them or if they emotionally drain you

That’s how i deal with it at least, but i say try to find your own path to how to deal with it, cause my way might not work for you, so i say experiment and find out :D

And nah don’t apologize i love long asks actually dychchch

[ageless-aislynn]

Hello again, friends. I'm in the final stretch of Camp NaNo and I'm hopeful that I'll make my word count goal. Still disappointed that it's all being "wasted" on original stuff nobody will ever read instead of finishing my WIPs but who knows? Maybe I just needed to write nonsense that doesn't have to have any logic or whatever to it, just to get me through this month? I dunno.

Still going to try to get some words added to my WIPs before the month is done if I can. We're at a moment in "15 Minutes" that has been in place since the start, we've always been traveling here, even if nobody else knew it but me, and I think that's what's making it difficult for me to finish this chapter. There's just a lot of expectation on it from myself, I guess. I dunno. It's slowing me down but I won't let it stop me. "Recreation"'s next chapter is literally stalled on the final scene, ugh. Same thing, though, I'll get it done ASAP.

I'm taking some time today, though, to try and catch up on some of the things I've missed. Apologies for being so far behind. I've been a lousy friend for a while now and I hate it but can't seem to do any better. I won't waste your time complaining about being sick. Ugh.

I have so many pictures I want to take of my action figures and dolls. For instance, I made a Barbie version of Sara and Reyes! Totally not "authentic" in outfits, more of an "inspired by" sort of thing because I had to just work with what I could find but still! I love having something in hand that reminds me of them. It just makes me happy to look at them, what can I say? I also have an idea to kitbash an action figure tv!Master Chief that I'm hoping will work. 🤞😣🤞 I'll do my best to take pictures whenever I can.

I'm going to make some new GIFs from my latest Mass Effect: Andromeda shenanigans whenever I can, too. Playing that and Halo have been my life preserver through this rough month. Though, if you need an idea of how sick I've been, I actually fell asleep playing Halo the other day. 😬 I'm honestly not even sure how you DO that. But hey, at least my amazing gamer reflexes 😂 managed to keep me from dropping my controller. I woke up some unknown time later, still clutching it in both hands, while poor Chief had been stuck doing his idle animation for who knows how long? 👀😉

Anyway, I hope you're doing well. I've missed you.

[circa-smuturgia]

Drunken Desire

Hi! This is a short smut, for two characters from @agrimedena-drax’s WIP, Quinque Lupi, Academy of the Five Wolves. We had ideas for a scene between Dakarai and Lech, to best friends in the main cast of the story, getting drunk and exploring their sexualities, and decided to both write the scene based on the discussion we had of it!

Her scene is here! Read that too once you’ve read this one to see the ways our versions and styles differ!

TW// Smut. Obviously. Go no further, ye of little age. Or interest. Though to be fair there’s not much fucking here. Just some kissing and requests.

The two of them winced as Lech opened the door with this shoulder, the hinges giving a piercing shriek, neither of them having bothered to ask Devina for some grease to fix them over the last week.

Which would have been fine if they weren’t both heavily, heavily drunk.

Dakarai had always been a lightweight, having been drunk already by the time Lech arrived late, but a drinking game gone sideways has ended with even the Lassan blond watching his steps so as not to trip on the stairs. They’d somehow managed to conquer said stairs, and the hall, though Lech could feel the bruise forming on the back of his arm where it’s made contact with the windowsill. ‘’Rai’ had tripped and sent them both flying sideways, collapsing on him with all his weight.

Finally they’d made it to their room, collapsing on Dakarais bed. The Gatian’s toned arm slipped out from around Lechs shoulders where it had been held for balance, as he lied back on the bed, groaning with some satisfaction to the comfort.

They sat in silence for a moment. Half asleep, the breeze familiar in the open window. Staring at the space occupied by his bed.

“Do you want to kiss?”

Dakarai went still for a moment before sitting up to the edge of the bed next to Lech, brushing sand from his eye, elbows on his knees in mirror to the other boy.

“Mm?”

“Sorry, that was- ‘s dumb. Never mind.”

“Are you…?” He hedged, still staring forward. Stealing a glance at the boy beside him.

“Uh, no. N’, I don’t think so. I dunno?”

“And you wanted to try…?”

“Yeah. Sorry, forget it.”

A moment passed. Lech fiddled with the button of his dress shirts sleeve.

“I’m down, if you want.”

Lech didn’t quite look up, instead training his unfocused gaze on his friends shoes. One of which had gone missing in their journey to the bedroom.

“If I’m going to kiss you though, I’m going to kiss you proper.” Dakarai continued, lifting a hand to try and brush the blondes hair behind his ear, fumbling the first attempt. “Do you want that?”

Another pause, the air sort of light, moonlight shining on them both, coating everything in a silver.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” The Gatian repeated, tilting the sharp jaw of the other boy slightly to lean in for a kiss.

Lips to lips, gentle, slow.

“So…?” ‘Rai asked, tilting his head slightly, nose brushing his best friends.

“Can you… Uhm… More?”

“More ‘s good.” He smiled, basked in the moonlight from the window behind Lech, light sparkling in his eyes before he closed them leaning in with more intent.

Hands undid a button, then two, sliding across skin, beneath a waistband, coaxing a melted sigh of pleasure from his friends lips in the kiss. Private. The two of them.

“Y’ taste like alcohol.”

“So do you.” Dakarai giggled. The two paused, Rai’s hand working slowly, a movement of his shoulder against his friends nudging him to lean back, finding the shiver that ran through his body endearing.

“Rai?”

“Mm?”

“Are… you gonna-”

“Give you a blowjob?”

“Yeah…”

“Lech?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re both very, very drunk.”

“…Fair.”

The two of them sat silently for a moment before they cracked, laughing stupidly just like they’d done so many times before. Eventually Dakarai cut his friend off, returning to his lips, playing with his kiss. Hand speeding up, other cupping his cheek. Breath still tasting of alcohol in the brief moments they took to take each others.

A few seconds of pleasure suddenly shifted.

“Stop. Please.”

In a second, Dakarai had leaned back, hand slipped from his pants and resting on the bed, looking at Lech with that head tilt of his.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, jus’…” The blond sighed, leaning forward a bit, hair once again in his face. “Don’t think it’s my thing.”

“That’s all good.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Dakarai initially stayed still as they both calmed their breathing, before shifting forward on the mattress, next to Lech as they’d been before.

“It… I didn’ dislike it, though. It was… I think it was nice. Thank you.” Lech said, wiping a few tears of built up emotional turmoil from his face, voice a whisper as he finished.

“’m glad.” The other boy managed, wiping a tear from his own eye.

Tears…? Why was he crying? It’d only been a stop. If the roles had been reversed, he’d have wanted Lech to stop, if he asked, so why did it make him- Ah. There.

“Are you ok?”

The question had been soft, spoken in that voice of his that Rai found so endearing, that caring gentle tone… He stared past him for a moment, not too keen on eye contact, before letting himself calm down a little.

“More than ok.” He said, smiling gently, adding: “Thank you, too. I really liked it.”

He paused for a moment, before asking.

“So, you’re not…?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

The two of them lied back, hands on their chest, content in the silence. Staring up at the ceiling, the lamp swayed ever so slightly from the whistling gust that came in through the window. Lost in thought, and enjoying the silence and company. Eventually the Gatian spoke.

“You really asked me to suck your cock, huh?”

“Oh my god.” Lech hid his face in his palms, though the smile on his face leaked into his tone. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Never.” Dakarai smiled, wide as the sun.

“Fuck.”

Dakarai managed to make it down the stairs all the way to the dining hall without tripping from the hangover, some of the younger students having been making enough of a racket to make his headache make him feel queasy.

What made him feel sicker, however, was the thought of what Devina would do to him if he skipped breakfast.

Thus, fear- and shame-motivated, he picked up a plate and some silverware. He couldn’t be bothered to swap any of the three forks he now held at his side to swap them out for a knife or spoon. Paying no mind to the first years who looked at him incredulously as he blatantly ignored the seating arrangements, he shooed them off as he sat in front of Lech.

Seems he hadn’t been as lucky his coordinating, rubbing a bruise on his cheekbone where he must’ve bumped into something. Judging by the color, it’d definitely been this morning.

Picking out a few things to his plate, he gave the Lassan a look, just as the blond collapsed on the table, head resting on his arms, face hidden. He only gave a slight nod of thanks as Nurah set a glass of ginger and honey lemon tea in front of him on the table.

The gesture could’ve been a lot sweeter if it wasn’t for the ‘serves-you-right’ flick to the forehead he got right after as she sat down next to him, making Dakarai laugh.

With a mischievous grin, he impaled a sausage on his fork, lifting it and tapping Lech’s shoulder…

The look on his best friends face was well worth the laughter that’d been so loud it got him escorted out of the dining hall.

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! ✨

[staysaneathome]

That Day (Evening)

(The Entity-Swap kid fic WIP that now has a fourth part. Warnings for continued endangerment of children and high levels of pining)

The park is quite a bit further from where they lost the teenager in the hijab than Jon initially thought.

It’s almost funny, how two or three miles doesn’t sound like a very long way to run-walk. Just two or three, the small number making it sound doable, like they should be able to get there in a matter of minutes.

It’s less funny when they’ve been walking for over half an hour and Melanie won’t stop whining about how her legs are tired.

”Carry me.” She demands imperiously.

“No.” Replies Jon, flatly. “Last time I did that, you scratched me really badly. My shoulder and face still hurt.”

”They do not.” Melanie says, as if her denial is enough to undo all the damage. “And I won’t scratch this time. Carry me?”

”No. It’s not even much further to walk.”

”Uuuuugh, you said that last time!” She complains. “It’s been for-eeeee-veeer! Can we at least get some juice or a Freddo Frog or something?”

”With what money?” Jon asks archly.  That buys him maybe half a minute of blessed, blessed silence.

“Wait. You don’t have money?” Melanie asks with a frankly insulting level of incredulity. “But aren’t you like, an adult? Adults have money!”

”I’m twelve!” He sputters, gesturing to himself. “Do I look like I have any money?”

There’s a moment of silence as Melanie eyes him up and down. “I thought you were just ugly.” She says dismissively. “Wait. If you aren’t an adult, can I be in charge?”

”No!” He snaps indignantly. “I’m still the oldest.”

”That’s dumb.” Melanie complains. “You’re dumb. And ugly.”

”And older than you.” Jon reminds her smugly. He’s been with her for long enough by now that he knows when to dodge out of the way when she tries to pinch him.

It’s a relief when the park finally comes into view.

It’s an even bigger one when he catches sight of Martin sitting on the balance beam, looking around patiently.

It lifts a weight off Jon’s shoulders that he didn’t even know was there when Martin catches sight of him and his face breaks out in a grin, like the sun rising.  Then Martin’s face rapidly falls, and he’s sprinting over to them, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

Jon has a fleeting fear that the teenager in the hijab or the searcher are right behind them, poised and waiting for him to turn around to strike.

Martin slows, huffing and puffing as his hands reach out towards him, shaking slightly. “Jon! Jon, oh my gosh, what—what happened to, to your arm, to your face?!”

Ah, Jon thinks, as Martin cups his less-savaged cheek gently and tilts his head. Was that all he was frightened of?

”It’s nothing.” He says gruffly, trying not to think about how weird-hot-odd it feels to have Martin worry about some little scratches like this, fighting the urge to fidget. “Just doing, um. Doing what I had to.”

Martin’s eyes are big and liquid and sad, and he frowns, opening his mouth—

“Liar. You didn’t say it was ‘nothing’ when you wouldn’t carry me.” A sour voice interrupts.

Jon startles and Martin whips his hand away so fast it feel like a burn, both of them turning to stare down at where the interruption came from. Melanie is starfished on her back on the grass, glaring up at them moodily, one sweaty hand still clutching Jon’s. The Watcher informs Jon that her clothes will have grass stains on them when she gets up. Jon tries to inform the Watcher that he doesn’t care, but is ignored, as usual.

Melanie eyes Martin critically. “Are you his friend then?”

Martin straightens up, his usual smile on his face. “Erm, um—yes! Yes, yes I am Jon’s friend! Mar-Martin Blackwood! Um, hello! And, and you are?”

Melanie pulls her sweaty hand out of Jon’s grip and holds it out to Martin, sitting up. “M Melanie King. Jon kidnapped me and we’re friends now too.”

Martin’s smile freezes as he processes that sentence. His eyes dart between Jon and Melanie. “Ah. Um.”

”I did not.” Jon protests. “You were being kidnapped by a searcher, and I saved you.”

”Didn’t do a very good job of it.” Melanie mutters, pulling up grass by the roots and dropping it on his shoes.

Jon retreats with a disgusted noise, trying to shake it out where it’s fallen through the holes of his too-big trainers. ”Stop that! And-and we’ve just met, we’re not friends!”

There’s a moment of silence.

Melanie’s eyes start to water.  She begins making an awful noise that makes some part of Jon’s brain he hadn’t even known existed freeze up and go “Oh no”.

He exchanges a brief terrified glance with Martin, who reaches out. “Oh, no, no, no, oh please—”

Melanie wails, the sheer force of the noise making Jon stumble backwards.

“Melanie, shh!” He hisses, darting glances around at few parkgoers who are stopping to stare, “You’re making people—”

”NO!” She bellows, swiping out at him with a poorly aimed claw, tears and snot running down her face in rivulets. “I HAE-HATE YOU! I HATE THI-I-IS! I HATE THAT EVERYTHIN' SO ANNOYING, ALL, ALL THE TIME, AND IT DOESN'T STO-O-OP!! I HATE MY FRIENDS NOT, NOT LIKING ME ANYMORE! I HATE MY DADDY GETTIN' SAD 'CAUSE OF ME! I JUS' WAN' IT TO STOP! I WAN’ MY FRIENDS BACK!! I WANNA GO HOME!!”

The little girl curls in on herself, the bright green grass stains on the back of her sparkly top shaking with her as she continues to sob like her little heart is breaking.

Jon has no idea what to do to fix this, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly at his sides. He has no idea how she was touched by the Slaughter (though the Watcher croons for him to question her, to learn, to Ask—), and even if he did, it’s not as though he could make it just go away, as if a mark like this could be removed with a bit of scrubbing. This isn’t something that can just be pulled out of her, like a loose tooth. It’s part of her now, wedged deep inside like the Forsaken is in Martin, and the Watcher is in Jon.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t Know—

“I-I’ll be your friend!” Martin babbles frantically.

Jon stares at him, feeling suddenly, irrationally betrayed.

Melanie gulps and sniffles, peering up at him through red-rimmed eyes. “…you promise?”

”Cross my heart and hope to die.” Martin smiles, holding out a small, ragged tissue. “C’mon now, can you give me a big dragon blow into this?”

She gives him a Look, like she knows he’s trying to make her laugh and is cross with him for it, but does as he says, making a noise that’s a bit like a honk.

“Good job!” Martin praises, while Jon crosses his arms and tries to make his face not frown like he wants to. This is stupid. You can't be friends with somebody you’ve just met, you don’t Know them, it’s silly. Childish. Plus Martin’s his friend. Melanie has no right to come along and-and steal him like this. Martin looks up and catches sight of Jon’s face. His smile dims a bit and his colors go paler, more faded, which makes Jon’s tummy squirm uncomfortably.

Still, he keeps babbling, “I-I’m really happy to be your friend, and Jon’s friend too! I don’t have many friends at home, so this is. This is nice. To be friends with you two. It makes me happy. Do you have superpowers too? Like how I can go invisible, and Jon can make people tell him stuff and Know things?”

Melanie shrugs, tearing up the tissue in her hands. “Dunno. Making people get into fights, or something. Invisibility’s cool, I guess. But getting people to tell you stuff isn’t a superpower. That’s just asking questions. It’s dumb.”

“No it’s not!” Jon bristles indignantly, all his focus on the little friend-thief. “Asking questions can be dangerous. Especially when you can’t stop yourself from answering them. How’d you think the searcher was going to eat up your life?”

“W-well, a brain sucker monster like her wouldn’t need to ask questions, would they? They’d just bite your ugly head off and know everything anyway.” She argues back, little chest puffed out and tears all but forgotten. “If all that creepy lady was going to do is ask questions, I could take her. I just wouldn’t open my mouth. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

Jon barely notices Martin going wide-eyed and near translucent out of the corner of his eye as he opens his mouth to prove exactly why Melanie is wrong.

But he freezes up when he hears a soft, deep voice behind him. “Oh, really? Care to put that to the test?”

The searcher smiles down at the three of them.

Her eyes are empty and something hungry looks out from them.

”Come, little ones.” She coos, one hand outstretched. “Come home with me. Come back to the Collection. You’ll want for nothing, never hungry, never cold, never tired, never lonely, never angry. And you’ll hear such interesting stories. We’ve missed you, my prized Recorder. I’ve missed you so much.”

Jon feels frozen, pinned like a bird in the eyes of a snake, a part of him that he never wanted to know existed clamoring at him to take it, take her hand, you need the stories, you need—

A large, warm, soft hand grabs his, and yanks him back into the fog.

Jon yelps, though it feels like his yell is swallowed up in the crushing, inescapable isolation that now surrounds him. He sees Melanie, but it’s like she’s miles away, her shouting and directionless anger losing teeth as it dawns on her how utterly, utterly alone they both are. They aren’t friends. They can’t rely on each other. They’ll lose sight of each other and perish here, unremarkable and unremarked on and alone.

”C’mon!” A familiar, kind voice comes through the fog, shocking Jon back to his senses. “We’ve got to go! This way!”

His hand is being held. Of course it is. How could he forget? He and Melanie are holding Martin’s hands, as the barely visible boy tugs them through the eddies of fog, away from the searcher.

They run through the dreamlike realm of the Forsaken in a weird, birdlike configuration.

Martin had grabbed the hand which was closest to him on Jon, while Jon was still facing the searcher, locked into her gaze. The result is that his arm is drawn almost painfully across his body as they run, his sweaty palm clutching Martin’s tight, sure that if he even loosens his grip enough to change to a more comfortable position, he’ll be lost forever in the fog.

Melanie is stumbling along on Martin’s other side, her legs weak and shaky, almost skipping at some points to try and keep up with the pace Martin is setting, glancing back every so often. Tears are running down her face almost absentmindedly.

For a moment, as they pass through the darkening trees and get further and further away from the playground, Jon thinks they might actually make it. They might actually escape the searcher and live to fight another day.

”Stop.”

Jon feels his legs lock up, all his muscles seizing together as though cramped. The burning sensation of being Watched sears itself into the back of his neck, the entirety of him Known and Seen and Exposed.

He faintly hears Martin and Melanie scream as though they’re being peeled open and pinned down for study as he crashes face first into the mossy earth beneath them.

The searcher takes her time strolling up to them, forcing Jon to listen to his friends’ pained whimpers where they’ve fallen. Martin’s face scraped viciously from the bark of the tree in from of them, and Melanie unable to even inch off of where a root is digging into her stomach.

That’s how he knows it’s the man looking through her eyes, delighting in their distress.

”No,” He can hear Martin choke out, “No, st-stop it, st-stay away fr—!”

”Look at you.” The searcher coos in a tone that has never been her own. “All banged up and bruised. Do you enjoy this, Jon? Do you enjoy hurting your friends?”

Jon wants to scream, to cry, to yell that of course not, of course he doesn’t, he’d never want to, but it feels like his throat is closed up. It’s all he can do to suck in shaky breaths through his nose as the searcher gets closer and closer.

“Kill you,” He can faintly hear Melanie wheeze. Jon’s honestly at a loss for whether she’s speaking to the searcher or to him. “Swear, I-I swear, kill you, I’ll—”

“Come now.” The searcher says pleasantly. “That’s enough games. Time to come back now, children, Recorder. Time to come back to the Collection.”

He can see her hand reaching down for him.

A dark blur slams into the searcher.

Jon hears several short screams, what sounds incongruously like a growl and then a loud, wet, puncturing noise.

His limbs release from the rictus they’ve been forced into.

The burning sensation of being Watched fades to the ever-present prickle on the back of his neck.

Jon jerks his head up with a punched out gasp, reaching for the others, pulling them behind him even as he turns to See what is happening, what’s going on.

There’s a lady kneeling over the searcher’s limp, lifeless body.

She’s got combat boots and a hoodie that’s slipped down from her shoulders to bunch around her elbows. A small burst of scar tissue, almost like a flower, is visible and hidden again as she shifts, more animal than human in her movements. It reminds Jon of a nature documentary he watched with his grandmother once, a mountain lion stalking forward lithely to devour its prey.  There’s the same intent, hungry stare in her eyes that Jon vaguely recalls the mountain lion having as she draws up to her full height and pins the three children huddled at the base of the tree under her gaze. There’s a penknife in her hand that’s dripping with the searcher’s blood.

He hears Martin suck in a frightened whine behind him, fog spilling out to pool around Jon’s ankles. Melanie’s breathing so fast she sounds like she’s a mere moment away from hyperventilation.

They can’t escape like this. Not from a killer touched by the Hunt. Not without a distraction of some kind.

Jon’s mouth is opening before his brain can process what an awful idea this is. “How did you get that—”

He doesn’t even see her move.

All he knows is the breath is punched out of his lungs and his feet are dangling uselessly as the Hunter slams him into another tree, a snarl on her lips. The bloody penknife is pressed hard into the thin skin of his throat.

”So you’re one of them, hm?” The Hunter snarls, the burr of her Welsh accent mixing with a growl that almost drowns out Martin’s frantic cries of “JON!” A tiny part of his brain that isn’t frantically trying to stay as still as possible notes that she’s got Melanie’s sparkly hair bobble stretched around one wrist.

“I wonder.” The Hunter says, with fake casualness. “What’d be the best way to make sure you can’t ask any more of them pesky questions that hurt people, hm? The tongue? Or the voicebox?”

”DAISY, STOP!”

It’s like magic.

The Hunt slides away under the young woman’s skin like someone’s pulled a blanket over it. Not gone, the shape of it still plainly visible, but softened, gentled by the cover’s drapes and folds. The arm that’s holding Jon up trembles, ever so slightly, and the penknife is finally, finally pulled away, even if only by a few centimeters.  Jon’s breath hitches in his chest and he has to blink away tears.

As she twists around to face the teenager in the hijab, Jon’s given a clear view of one of her ears, which has begun to flush pink, for some reason.

”Basira.” There’s barely concealed excitement in her voice that is very confusing right now. “Hi. I, uh. I was in the area, and I, uh. Noticed you were having some trouble. So I found those kids that, that you were looking for.”

”That’s. Nice? But, Daisy, I need you to put him down now.” The teenager in the hijab is holding her hands out placatingly. “That boy’s not dangerous, not like Rayner. I wanted to ask him some questions.”

The teenager in the hoodie scoffs, but does as she asks, tucking the penknife away and lowering Jon to the ground. “If you say so. Just don’t let him ask you any—they’re tricky, Eye types like this.”

Jon feels his legs go wobbly the moment his feet touch earth. He slumps, breath wheezing out of him, heart racing like he’s running from the searcher all over again.

”JON!” Martin’s arms curve under his, pulling him forward into a tight, warm, soft hug. “Oh, oh god, I-I’m so sorry, ah-are you okay?! Did she hurt you?”

Jon can only grip feebly back, burying his head into Martin’s increasingly saturated shoulder as it feels like he shakes apart.

Part of his brain that isn’t focused on clutching onto Martin like he’s a lifejacket and swallowing compulsively to remind himself that he’s alright, he’s whole, faintly registers the sound of something smacking flesh, and the Hunter going “Ow!” “That’s what you get!” Comes Melanie’s shrill reply. “Don’t you ever touch him again, okay, you big, big, stupid, bullying, ugly—!”

”Okay, that’s enough of that.” The teenager in the hijab—Basira? says. “Break it up, you two.”

There’s the distant sound of dried leaves and tree detritus crunching underfoot, and then Martin’s breath hitches. Jon tightens his grip, preparing to twist him away from whatever’s threatening them now.

”Hey, easy, easy.” Basira’s voice comes from a lot closer. “I’m sorry about Daisy, but she’s very…passionate about stopping monsters. Like the one chasing you three. That was a monster, wasn’t it?”

“Y-yeah.” Martin stutters. “She was going to hurt Jon. Just like she did.”

Jon stiffens at the sound of the warning growl, but Martin doesn’t let go of him, even though Jon can feel his heart racing in his chest. A peek shows that Martin’s staring down the teenager in the hijab with a wobbly lower lip, but eyes set hard.

”And she’s very sorry about that.” Basira demurs. “It was all a big misunderstanding, wasn’t it Daisy?”

There’s a moment, and a decidedly grumpy, “Yes.”

“There we go.” There’s a rustle, and Jon withdraws his head from the safety of Martin to see that she’s pulled out a small leather-bound notebook and a pencil. “Now, could I ask you both some questions? About the whole,”

She makes an all-encompassing gesture to them and the cold fog of the Forsaken coiling around them.

”Our superpowers?” Martin blinks. “Why? Do you have them too?”

The teenager shakes her head. “No. I’m ah, uninvolved in a lot of this. But then a boy I was babysitting got kidnapped by shadow monsters, and I met Daisy while trying to rescue him, so ‘forewarned is forearmed’ and all that. And since I’m under strict orders not to go to the Orsinov Institute—”

”I told you,” The hunter—Daisy—interrupts. “That place is dangerous. They say they research stuff, but something ain’t right there. You’d walk in, and something else would waltz out in your place.”

Jon can’t help his curiosity. “H-how—?”  It feels like his vocal cords dry up under the glare the Hunter pins him with. Thin ice, she mouths at him.

”Yes, thank you, Daisy.” Basira cuts in, shifting so she breaks the line of sight between the Hunter and Jon. “So, as I am banned from ever setting foot in the one reputable center for the study of the supernatural in this country, I have to do my own research piecemeal from subjects in the field.”

Martin and Melanie are giving her blank looks.  “She wants to ask us about the Watcher, the Forsaken and the Slaughter and what we can do.” Jon translates.

Martin nods with a little ‘oh’. Melanie just looks even more confused.

”I just want my Daddy. I wanna go home.” Her voice breaks on the last word.

Basira’s face softens at that.

”Y-yeah.” Martin says, shifting from one foot to the other. “A-and I need to get my train back. My, my mum’s probably worried about me…”

Jon can’t quite help the way his arms tighten at that, though he loosens them quickly. It’s only natural. The sun’s practically gone down, after all. Whether Jon desperately wants him to stay has no import on the matter at hand.

“Right.” Basira scribbles down something in her notebook, then tears the paper out and then tears that into three strips. “This is my mobile number, and email address. You can contact me using either of these to talk about…superpower things.”

”And I’ll find you if you try to vanish, easy as anything.” Daisy adds with a toothy grin. “So don’t.”

”Daisy.”  The hunter holds up her hands. There’s dark red blood on the one that held the knife. “I’m joking, Basira, joking.”

Jon, despite how much he doesn’t want to, detaches from Martin. “I, I don’t have a phone. Or a computer.”

Basira hums, her head tilted to the side. “You know Angel of Islington? Near where you two got on the bus earlier?”

Jon nods as she goes on. “I can be found around there most days. Just drop by if you feel like sharing any of the things you’ve seen so far. And who knows? Maybe I’ll have some stories for you too.”

Something leaps in Jon’s stomach.

Still, the way the Hunter’s gone tense puts him on edge, so he makes himself say, “Only-only little ones. Not, not big stories.”

The teenager in the hijab nods impassively.  She claps her hands together. “Well, that’s enough excitement for one day, I think. Let’s see about finding your parents and getting you all home, shall we?”

Daisy nods, stepping close. Her ears are still red in the fading evening light. “I’ll come with you.”

Basira gives her an unimpressed look and a snort. “And then who’ll deal with that?”

They all turn to stare at the searcher’s body.  Martin shivers and grabs his hand, squeezing gently. Jon almost jumps when he feels something small and warm press close to his other side, before he looks down and sees Melanie’s leaf-and-twig-filled hair. The other sparkly bobble is almost falling out too.

Daisy’s eyebrows draw together and she lets out a small growl. “Ugh, fine. But just, um. Call me, maybe, next time? If you’re gonna go chasing after weird things.”

Basira smiles, playing with the edge of her hijab for some reason. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jon glances back as she ushers the three of them out of the park, shoulder and throat and everything else aching and feeling like he imagines an orange must do after the juice is squeezed out of it. The hunter’s eyes shine in the looming dark as they go, shifting from something that Jon wants to call friendliness to a more animalistic bent as she crouches over the body of the searcher, and the two of them disappear into the trees and the twilight.

[sub-hoshi-enthusiast]

I have so many other fics to write but I just randomly decided to write this one cause ✨Jacob Bae✨. But I'm almost finished with the Jisung one I talked about on my current WIPs post so that should be out soon :)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!Jacob, fem!dom!reader, pegging, dacryphilia, edging, overstimulation, kind of top drop at the end I guess?? (Reader isn't sure if Jacob is actually comfortable with what reader does to him and starts to feel self conscious)

Untitled 

     The only sound that could be heard echoing in your bedroom was your boyfriend's moans and pleas for you to go faster, drowning out the headboard hitting the wall and the lewd sound of skin slapping as you pounded into him as hard as you could. He looked like an angel as the light from the setting sun shone through your window, covering him a golden hue as he thrashed in your hold. It ran beautifully over his torso as he arched his back sinfully, his muscles making themselves known as he gripped the pillow under his head in his body's search to ground itself. Jacob's mind was too far gone to fully process anything but the way your cock hit all the right places inside of him. He threw his head back with a loud moan as the tip of your silicone cock hit his prostate.

     "T-there! Oh god right there- AH! Fuck miss, y-you feel so good! I'm gonna cum- Oh fuck- please let me cum!" You smirked down at him, leaning closer to leave love bites down his neck as you slowed the movement of your hips. A mantra of "no" fell from his swollen lips as you edged him for the third time that night. 

     "I dunno baby, I think you can wait a little while longer. You look so cute begging and squirming beneath me, I wanna keep you like this as long as I can." He whined at your reply, thighs shaking in your hold as his dick twitched in a pool of his pre-cum on his stomach. You waited a few minutes, making sure his orgasm had fully faded before picking up the pace again. You made sure to pound into him harder than you had before, causing his eyes to roll back in his head as you continuously hit his prostate. It didn't take long for his orgasm to build up again and soon enough he was digging his nails into the skin of your shoulders, begging for his release. He was expecting you to pull out and tear him away from his high for a fourth time, so it was a pleasant surprise when you sped up your movements while pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss. 

     It only took a few more thrusts for him to throw his head back with a cry, white stripes of cum painting his torso. He relaxed back in the mattress before tensing up as he realized you hadn't stopped your movements. His hands shot up to your shoulders, weakly pushing as tears started to build up from the overstimulation. His mouth opened in a silent moan when you bit down on his shoulder to leave another mark, causing the tears that had been building up to fall down his face. A gentle sob wracked his body as he locked eyes with you.

     "I'm sorry! I-I don't know what I did but I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please!" He cried out, the tears seeming to come down in a never ending stream. Your face softened as you looked at him.

     "Oh baby, you're alright. You haven't done anything wrong. I just think you look so pretty covered in your own cum, crying as I fuck you till you can only think of me. Wouldn't you like that? Wanna be a pretty boy for me?" He whined as he thrashed around beneath you. He weakly nodded his head muttering under his breath.

     "Y-yes, yes, yes! Ngh- I'm a g-good boy, right?" He asked through his sniffles and hiccups. You smiled down at him as you lovingly ran your fingers through his hair.

     "Of course baby, you're the best boy. You always take everything so well for me, my pretty baby boy." A loud whine fell from his lips at the praise while he moved his hips to meet your every thrust. "Are you gonna cum for me baby? Gonna make a mess all over yourself?" A guttural moan fell from his lips as he frantically nodded. You peppered kisses all over his face as you sped up your movements. "Go ahead baby, be a good boy and cum for me." Almost immediately after his back arched as he came all over himself, some of the white spurts ending up on his neck. You slowed your movements before coming to a complete stop. You both sat there panting for a moment before you pulled out of him, cleaning him up while whispering sweet nothings into his ear. A content hum rumbled in his chest when you finally flopped down next to him, pulling him as close to you as he could. You softly pet his hair, pushing him back a bit so you could make eye contact.

     "Did you enjoy that?" Jacob furrowed his eyebrows. "It's just- I know I can be a bit much sometimes and I don't want you to feel like you have to do something just because I enjoy it." A soft smile stretched across his face as he cupped your face in his hands.

     "Honey, of course I did! You always take care of me so well and I honestly couldn't ask for a better partner." He gave a light kiss on the forehead as he hugged you close to him. You lightly smiled as you played with his fingers for a little bit before muttering into his chest.

     "You would tell me if i ever tried something you don't like or you just aren't feeling it, right? This is a two person thing and I wanna make sure you're enjoying yourself." He pressed another kiss to the top of your head while combing his fingers through your hair, muttering a quiet "Of course" against your scalp. You smiled as you cuddled into him, drifting to sleep in the warmth of his embrace.

[shadowdianne]

Fic writer review [Or a fic writer tag game if you prefer]

I was tagged by @naralanis and I can already see her grin all the way from where I am xd Thank you, dear, for the tag, let’s see what are my answers, shall we.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

*bursts out laughing* Adding both pseuds I have… 535 according to the account info but by counting them all I’m reaching 541 so I’m guessing it’s counting some drafts I need to re-find.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

I seriously hated you for this one xd I was going to do it by hand by I decided one-third there that I value my mental stability a little bit more xd according to the stats page back at a03 that number would be 1257884. It may be wrong. I think there should be a few more numbers up there but the majority of my works are one-shots so *shrugs* There’s also the fact that counting my ao3 things only is shaving off like half of it Xd Anyway, can we laugh at the fact that I’m a pain in the ass and that I’ve written a lot? More than I should have, that’s for sure

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Trick question because I haven’t crossposted everything I wrote back in ffnet and I actually erased some fics from my account back there so the numbers are a little blurry there.

When I had the entirety of my work posted both in ffnet and a03 I had written for: Twilight (Bella/Alice) Glee (Faberry and there were a couple Pezberry and I don’t fucking remember the pairing name for Santana and Quinn), Harry Potter (Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Narcissa, Hermione/Bellatrix) OUAT (SwanQueen and several oneshots focusing on the mad hatter and the blue fairy solely back at ffnet that were written in Spanish and never translated), I actually had a veeeery old au prompt of Frozen (Elsanna in where I wrote them as non sibilings), Rizzoli and Isles (Rizzles), Dishonored 2 (Emily Kaldwin/Alexi Mayhew), Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, Supergirl (SuperCorp/Supercat) I had a 100 one -or maybe two??- (Clexa), The Shannara Chronicles (Amberle/Eretreia [Or Princess Rover], Rwby [Blake Belladona/Yang], The Worst Witch (Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle), The Half of it, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Madam Satan/Zelda Spellman) and… I think that’s it(?) I may be forgetting some but probably nothing important if I’m not remembering it lol.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Ah, we are going to go there, uh? Xd My works are not the kudos and comment getting type Xd So I was quite surprised when I went to check this.

1: Cracked it I wrote this one back in 2017, it was a prompt done by an anon: Lena is nerding with one of her projects at home, mumbling mostly to herself because she’s stuck and Kara casually mentions how to solve the problem like it’s nothing. I really had some fun with this. It was back when some us, SQeeners were fully doing the jump between OUAT and SuperGirl (I mean, there had already been some crossover as for fandom is related but this when the girls were actually getting their conjoined voice within the fandom)

2: Dateless I honestly needed to check what this one was about but I think I can see why this one shot has the amount of kudos it has. It’s a short and sweet idea and responds to the Teachers Au that went SO well with SQ. Everyone thinks they hate each other and try to set them up with other people whilst they, in truth, are dating. I don’t remember if I wrote them as married rather than dating but despite being from 2017 as well is one cheeky enough to be cool Xd I probably would edit some lines now *shudders*

3: After you I truly didn’t expect this one to be top 3. Makes me think of a lot of things, if I’m being honest Xd. After you was a one shot written almost feverishly as an answer to the fabulous drawings that Sejic did of both Lara Croft and Wonder Woman back at 2018 or something. It’s just Lara and Diana being himbos but not at all with each other.

4: How about… How about is one I remember perfectly, it was my answer to the ending of the Half of it film. I had SOME thoughts about it, let’s just stop there Xd I really liked the film itself but I think and I thought at the time that my response to wishing for a final scene at the very end of the credits responds to me being in a different personal moment than the characters. I really wanted to explore my feelings about it and so I wrote about them finding each other again after some time passes. It was also something I wrote after quite the hiatus so I took it as something I could write about without focusing too much on the why.

5: Come to me

Ahh, SuperCorp Xd I remember this one actually. A friend of mine and I were talking about descriptions, and she mentioned quite off-handedly how she wanted a fic in where Kara’s back was described. I complied… more or less.

Fun tidbit, despite the big volume of my work is obviously set in ouat there’s only 1 SQ fic there as you can see, the others are either SuperCorp or the random one shots I created for Wonderwoman/Lara Croft and The half of it. *sighs in deep thought* I’m also not going to look too much into how almost all of the fics were posted and written back in 2017. Nope, not at all.

*Small voice screaming you peaked in 2017 and everything else is garbage jumps back and forth*

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I tend to always respond, yup. I truly value comments. I might have gone for spells of time in where I didn’t have the mental capacity to check in old fics because I truly didn’t know what to answer but I treasure every single comment and you all who comment know that I can start to ramble in the answers xd -sorry about that- I really really REALLY love interaction.

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending:

Ok, Nara, come on, this one is a catch for me. I’ve written angst in far too many fics to remember the angstiest one :P I have the most recent one, though, that is the easy one to think about: Goodbye.Written for @delirious-comfort. I’m just going to say “Kisses with their last dying breath” as an idea of what awaits inside but I’ve written about death and loss and angst quite a lot. There were some I wrote back to SQ with Regina needing to kill Emma during the Dark Swan arc that, to this day, I still love and some others in where Regina is the one that dies, again and again, trapped by magic while Emma watches. I have the loss in mental destruction form and… I REALLY like my angst y’know xd

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not counting Lara and Wonder Woman not really! I think it comes from the fact that I loooove worldbuilding as a whole and some pairings would require all my focus into making the world perfect which in turn would make me self conscious on the OOCness of it all.

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

*snorts* I’ve received hate due to the pairing I’ve written about, how I’ve written about it, the amount I’ve written, how slow or quick I can be, the usage of some tropes, the lack of usage of those same tropes… Let’s just go with: yuuuup.

9. Do you write smut?

I’ve written smut, yeah! But I can already see the pointed looks of some so let’s elaborate Xd I write smut when asked and sometimes when not asked but there’s a part of me I like to call a terrible tease that prefers writing the beginning of a scene, taunt it, focus on what happens before the sex scene per se as I find it more enjoyable to write. The process of escalation is always the best for me to see what can I do it by using both dialogue and descriptors tbh, so I tend to tease more than show.

9. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

A few weeks ago I’d have said: Maybe(?) But trying to follow the trail of some other fics that had been stolen from some friends -I think it was me trying to find more about the page that stole something from your Nara!- I found some pages in where my fics had been reposted. In some it was stated that the person posting the fic wasn’t the author but I had never been contacted in order to see if I’d say yes to such a thing and in some others the page was locked up but I could still see someone was pretending to be the author. I did the thing and got some of those down.

Pointed note: Ask me if you want to post or translate or anything. I will look into you and answer you if you seem honest about the thing. But despite every joke and self-deprecating comment those 500 and then some fics represent MY time so very kindly I say fuck off to those who wish to steal from me and if I catch you… you don’t really want to see me angry, trust me.

10. Ever had a fic translated?

I’ve given permission to some, yeah, but never heard it back from them so I’m guessing it didn’t stick.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I’ve written series alongside other authors as @stregaomega for example. And some others that are unpublished -looking at you @carsonnieve - I’ve also done collabs… but fics co-written in the sense of two authors same chapters I don’t have anything posted I’m afraid :P

13. All-time favourite ship?

*snorts*, I guess the obvious answer is SQ uh? And I do think they were the ones that allowed me to read and write SO much. The one I feel more strongly about, however, is Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13.

14. WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

All of them counts as a valid answer? But if I only could finish one that would be Arcadia. With A forgotten Promise second and the one I did as an Assassins Creed AU third. (I don’t remember the name so there’s no link, sorry xd)

15. Writing strengths?

Uhhhh, you REALLY want me to say that? I don’t fucking know!! To me everything I write is garbage. I always try to go for the feelings so I guess. Dunno xd I’ve been told I’m good at worldbuilding and to be honest is what I enjoy the most.

16. Writing weaknesses?

Everything Xd Pacing? What I hate the most sometimes is dialogue, I would count it as a weakness but I’m always far too focused on description rather than dialogue. I don’t think it’s a bad thing per se but it’s something that I don’t do as much.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I’m conflicted. Always. Majorly because I think that having bilingual characters in fanfiction is portrayed and expected in a way that I don’t feel it’s honest with how bilingual people -us- talk. So if I go by what I know I do I think it’s not what readers hope to see when it comes to that and if I go for how canonically is hoped to be found I don’t think it’s logical. But that’s me and my overthinking Xd If I have the option I like to do it.

18. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Belice! Or Bella/Alice. Worst first fic ever but oh, well, I’m always saying that :P

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

Uhh… Don’t make me do this XD Agh, I don’t know. I’ve always been very vocal about Metallic Ink because I let myself enjoy the process of creating a magic system almost out of zero and that was fun. Despite hating some of the writing process and that I’d do it differently now I think I’m going to stick with that answer. Or anything that had any steampunk-based undertone. To be honest I like more thinking of concepts, I had one in where Emma was a thief and it involved the robbery of a ring that was Regina’s one way ticket to freedom I then later repurposed that I adored thinking about so let’s go with…. Yeah, I love having the option of changing things up a little and focus on how characters would fit in different aesthetics for this one Xd

Annnd… these are four pages, gods. I’m just going to tag @waknatious @carsonnieve @stregaomega here and see what they do- Enjoy the questionnaire ladies :P

[presidentbungus]

ok ummm. for the sake of comparison here is a wip that i have from about a year ago (Jan 11th, 2021, is the date my note app says, though I'd guess it was started sometime November or December) and, uh... so it's been like a year since i wrote this or whatever and yikes. sorry in advance. I'm not really sure most of the things I was thinking but I was sure thinking em. not really a point to publishing this but i will anyway. certainly self-improving or whatever. you've been warned.

"My god, what did you do to yourself? It looks excruciating." Engineer's shoulder was almost completely obliterated, the rest of his arm loosely hanging on by scraps of flesh and bone. A bullet, seemingly lodged into his collarbone, glinted red with blood. "That's... right, Doc," Engineer said. He stumbled towards the operating table, making light groans. "S... Sniper got me, real bad. Saw him aiming. Dodged too slow, I guess." He attempted a chuckle, which turned into him inhaling through his teeth. Medic paused, much to the chagrin of Engineer. "Aren't we off-combat today?" "I was fixin' up the sentries and there must've been a Sniper sticking around anyway. Can't trust the little buggers. Can you fix this?" Medic ignored Engineer and closer examined the wound. "Odd, zhis doesn't look like a sniper-inflicted wound. I'm sure it would have gone through your shoulder entirely. Are you sure zhis did not hit anyone else? Or zhat there wasn't a Scout around who may have fired at you?" "Medic, I am currently losing gallons of blood." Medic stood back. "Yes, of course, of course. Zemantics, I apologize. Let's get zhis fixed up, shall we?" "Yes please." With shuddering breaths, Engineer hauled himself to the operating table (Medic, instead of helping, began searching through a set of drawers for something) and finally collapsed on it. His shoulder felt like it was about to fall off... which, admittedly, it probably was. "So... (oof, ouch)... are ya... workin'... on anything right now, Doc?" Medic glanced at Engineer, and then back at the cabinet he was currently ransacking. "Vell... your shoulder, once I can find these tongs." "Yeah. Makes sense." Engineer paused, wincing. "You got any... bigger projects going on? Medigun upgrades or something?" "I dunno about zhat, necessarily... ah, here are the tongs... I suppose zhere are a few new sorts of syringes I've been working on..." To punctuate this, Medic suddenly embedded the tong in the wound and began probing it around. Engineer yelped, looked at Medic, and looked back at the ceiling, attempting to keep his tears secret. "What does... ow... what does 'syringes' mean? Like... new... kinds of..." he trailed off as he was too breathless to speak. "Hold on, I almost got ze bullet. Oh, and I mean new things to put in the syringes. I have enough needles as it stands." He glanced at Engineer. "It is alright to cry, komarade. We are almost done, anyhow." A final, blinding burst of pain came as the bullet was freed from its socket, and then sweet relief as Medic switched the medigun on and the wound began to close. "Ain't... cryin'..." "What's zhat?" Engineer noticed that Medic set the tongs down on the operator's table, not bothering to rinse them. "A-ah. Nuthin', sorry. Is there anything you could use my health with?" "Not really." Medic laughed. "They're already complete. I've been telling Soldier they're 'America shots'. Zhe things he believes." Engineer considered how many of Soldier's antics were a result of those as a moment of silence passed. "Do not tell him that," Medic clarified. "My lips are sealed, Doc." He paused, cranking his newly-healed shoulder around; something made a snapping noise, and he kind of had to really push to get it all the way around, but it still worked again. That was enough. "Do you--" Engie interrupted. "Say, Medic. If you need any extra help with testin' I could assist." "You mean... get the other team members to take the shots?" Engineer laughed. "No, as... fun as that would be. I'm sayin' I could take 'em and you could... closely examine the effects, more?" "Never really took you for the type to do zhat kind of thing." "I owe you so many favors at this point, Doc. Consider it a debt repaid." Medic pondered for a moment. "Well, I suppose I can't really turn down a willing test subject in due conscience. I will warn you, Engineer: zhere is a possibility zhat your bones could melt." Engineer stood, stumbling and reclaiming his balance. "Well, that's always a--" "Or you skin could... loosen." "Huh--" "Or your organs

could pull in on eachother like magnets and you could have a ball of organs inside of you. Which would be fascinating, but also excruciatingly painful." Engineer gulped, grimaced, and then adopted a calm smile, looking back at Engineer. He shrugged. "Nothing you can't fix, Doc." Medic's face flipped from gleeful to solemn. "Actually, all of those things would be very, very unfixable." "You know what, Doc?" Engineer slapped Medic on the shoulder, to which Medic pushed his hand off and drew away. He frowned and continued: "It happens. I'll do it." Medic's face flipped from solemn to gleeful. "It really doesnt, but ah, vonderful! Simply come down here anytime you like and pick out a syringe." He opened a drawer and gestured to a number of needles, filled with a variety of colors of liquid. Some are labeled in messy handwriting ("melts bones", "loosens skin", "ball o organs") but most are not. "I vill leave it up to you, since I don't especially remember vich is vich." Engineer nodded apprehensively. "Yeah... cool. Super cool. I'll see you later then, Medic." "Good. Auf Wiedersehen!" "Seeya, Doc." Engineer slowly wandered his way towards the door with his heart in his throat. He hadn't got entirely what he was looking for (he wasn't sure what he really was looking for, so that complicated things somewhat) but Medic had still agreed to spending time with him. Time that might be filled with burning pain and permanent side effects, but it was time nontheless. A date, he thought, crossing into the hallway and up the stairs.. Not the sort of date he really wanted, but beggars can't be choosers, really, and it could very likely lead to-- Demoman was suddenly in Engineer's face and he was yelling. "What was all that about, then?" He said, hiccuping between words. He stunk of alcohol. "Good lord, Demoman. Give a man some warning." "There is no 'BLU Sniper' outside right now--" he burped--"it's St. Patrick's day, for god's sake. They're all drinking!" He took a large swig from a bottle that had seemingly come out of nowhere. Some of it sloshed onto the floor. "You were listening?" "Of course I was. I'd keep an eye out if I were you. Bloody... bloody spies, stinkin' up the festivites! Buncha..." he trailed off into his bottle. "So what really happened, then?" “I’m drunk! Sue me! I just think you’re hiding something from me. Are you hiding something from me, Engineer?” “Now why do you think I would be doin’ that?" "I don't... don't bloody know! Why are you hiding something? We're friends, y'know!" "My god, you are so drunk--" "Engineer." "Yes?" Demoman held out his hand. "Give me your pistol." "Are you sayin' that I shot myself?" "Show me your pistol or I will assume you are a Spy with great predjudice." Guiltily, Engineer tugged it out of its sheath on its belt. Demoman snatched it out of his hands and examined it closely. "It's... bloody... bloody! You did shoot yourself!" "It's... always been like that, or at least the blood ain't mine. I fight sometimes too, y'know." Demoman pointed at Engineer with one hand and chugged the drink with another, finishing it off by yelling: "Liar!" A voice came from somewhere downstairs. Medic's. "Is everything alright up there?" "Sure thing, Doc," Engineer called. He glared at Demoman. "I don't know what you're playing at, but you should quiet down before someone confuses someone for a Spy." Demoman slapped Engineer on the shoulder, painfully (the Medigun had a bad tendency to leave bone shards floating around). "Listen, laddy, if I didn't know much better I would say you needed an excuse to talk to Medic." "Don't say that so loud." Demoman's eyes widened. "You're kidding." "I just don't want anybody to find out about a crush that don't exist." "Holy shit. So many things make sense now..." "Listen, Demoman," Engineer said, squeaking a lot more than usual, "if this gets out you might find a sentry in your room tomorrow." "Bloody hell. Medic? God, you have bad taste." Engineer shook his head. "I don't understand... either..." he trailed off. "Why am I still

talking to you?" He attempted to move through, but was blocked by Demoman, who grabbed Engineer and shook him by his shoulders. "Laddy, don't leave. We gotta get this sorted out right now, alright? I'll help yae." "What do you mean?" "We're telling Medic. Yer gonna be so much less stressed about this afterwards. C'mon. Downstairs." "I'm not goin' downstairs, Demoman." The bottle somehow mystically vanished and Demoman was grabbing both of Engineer's shoulders and staring deep into his eyes. His breath still smelled like alcohol, and maybe fermenting meat. "Mate, do you want to keep this secret for the rest of your life?" "If I have to." "What is going on?" Both men tensed at the voice and turned to see Heavy, waiting at the top of the staircase. He held a sandvich in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. "Demoman, why are you so close to Engineer?" "Spychecking. I'm making sure he doesn't have any... cigarettes... or anything," Demoman mumbled. "Can never be too careful." "Engineer," Heavy said. "Tell me what's happening?" Engineer poorly attempted to disguise a grimace. "Well, yeah. What... he said. Never too careful." He chuckled. Too loudly. "You are bad liar. Tell Heavy the truth or you will be assumed Spy--" "I hurt my shoulder, so I went to Medic to get it healed, and I ran into Demoman on the way back. That's all it is." "So why did you lie to Heavy about this?" "Panic. In the moment. That's all." "You are scary," Demoman added. "That does not explain much." Slightly hyperventilating, Engineer attempted to push past Demoman and Heavy but he was, again, denied access and now 500 pounds of muscle was leering down at him. Engineer found himself wishing he was taller. "Tell Heavy what is going on and you can pass." Demoman briefly looked like he was trying to hold in throwup. "Engineer, just tell him. It'll be practice!" "I don't have to tell him anything." Engineer felt two very large fists around his neck, lifting him into the air. Demoman rushed forward, attempted to lay a hand on Heavy's shoulder, and decided on his forearm instead, standing on his tiptoes and whispering: "Engineer has a crush on Medic and he's scared to tell anyone." Engineer was immediately dropped and scuttled a short ways away. Heavy scratched his head. "Goddamn. Engineer has--" "Please shut up," Engineer pleaded. Heavy and Demoman briefly exchanged looks before helping Engineer stand. "You want to bang Doctor?" said Heavy, who snickered at his wording. "God dammit. Demoman, what did I say?" "You were about to die. I didn't have much choice, laddy. My lips are sealed from now on. Promise." "That promise didn't last long, did it?" "Oh." Demoman looked dejected. "I suppose next time I'll just let Heavy choke you to death, then." "There better not be a next time, Demoman--" Heavy grabbed both of them by the backs of their shirts and tugged them away from each other. "Men, men. Let us be civil--" "What is happening? Did someone mention civilians? Is someone fighting? I want to fight too." Engineer's face burned. "My fucking god." "Engineer has crush on Medic." "Heavy!" "What?" Heavy giggled. "I never promised anything." Soldier paused. "You mean..." He raised two index fingers and pressed them together. "Was what I asked!" "Men--" Engineer's voice wavered, and he waited a long time to regain his composure--"Men. I am going to leave this room before my head explodes." As he marched down the hallway, he could hear anxious chatter and, more annoyingly, laughter emanating from behind him. He turned around, and-- Something touched his shoulder. He jumped back. "Jesus, Pyro. A little warning?" "Mmmph mmph mm mmph." "Yes, yeah, sorry... I'm a little on edge." Pyro tilted its head. "Mmph mmmph?" Engineer sighed and set his hand on Pyro's shoulder. "It's fine. I'm fine. Can we go get some drinks?" Pyro nodded and clapped its hands together excitedly. "You're good to me, Pyro, you know that?" "Mmph mmmph mmph." Engineer laughed. "Thanks. Let's go get some drinks, huh? I got some welding for you to

do in the lab." --- Pyro was leering over Engineer when he woke up the next morning. “Oh my god!” He screamed, lurching out of bed and accidentally pushing Pyro backwards. Pyro didn’t seem to notice anything. Engineer wheezed. “P... Pyro... you gave me quite the scare there, bud!” He attempted a laugh but was breathless. Pyro tilted its head at him and thrust a charcoal-smudged note in his direction. “Oh dear,” Engineer said. CONGRATULATIONS Upon further consideration, we have decided to form a committee. Meetings will be in YOUR workshop once a day. To prevent the risk of Scout finding out, one member will be sent each day and will later relay the information to the rest of the team. Thank you :) Under the body of the message there was a crude drawing of two stick figures kissing. They both had glasses on. “Oh dear,” Engineer said, again. Pyro excitedly pointed at the drawing on the letter and clapped. “Did you do this, Pyro?” Pyro nodded. “It’s... nice.” Pyro clapped and pointed to the door. “Is someone there, Pyro?” Instead of nodding, Pyro grabbed Engineer’s hand and tugged him towards the door. “Hello?” Engineer called. His voice wavered. “Oh, good, you're up," Demoman replied. He attempted to open the door; Engineer stopped it with his foot and pushed against it. "Demoman." "Yes, Engineer?" Demoman wheezed, trying to get into the room against Engineer's efforts. "You respect me as a man, right?" "Of course." "Can you please stop trying to do this, then?" Demoman suddenly stopped pushing and Engineer collapsed against the wall on his bad shoulder. "Man, do ye want to be sad and alone for the rest of your life?" Engineer sucked air through his teeth. "That is extreme hyperbole." "Let me rephrase it: do you trust yourself to handle this on your own?" Engineer scoffed. "I don't really trust you." "That's not what I asked you." "Fine. Yes, I do trust myself. I... I can do things on my own. I'll figure it out. I have eleven PhD's, it can't be that hard to navigate... that... kinda thing." "You are still a bad liar," Demoman said. "I'm..." Engineer paused, pondered, and then chuckled. "Dammit. You're right." "I am?" "Yes! And I hate it. Like... what am I thinking?" Engineer cackl "Oh yeah, you were bad yesterday." A pause. "But a big part of it is my fault. I don't blame ye for it. People don't like to be forced into things? Who knew." "Tch. Yeah. You can come in now, I guess." Engineer left the door, almost crashed into Pyro, and collapsed onto a stool by his workstation. Demoman entered immediately and gently shut the door. "Oh, yeah. I'd prefer if you didn't tell Pyro to stand over me while I sleep." He paused. "It's not the most comforting thing to wake up to." "Oh. He was in here that whole time?" "Mmph mmmph." "I forgot too, to be honest. Coffee?" "Sure. And to be fair, I don't really remember telling Pyro to go in your lab last night." Engineer folded the letter out of one of his pockets and pushed it to Demoman, who grimaced as he read it. "Sorry. I vaguely remember writing a letter, but... yikes."

[vaguely-concerned]

T.F.’s eyes finally slide open. It takes them a while to focus — there’s still the hectic pink of fever in his cheeks, though right now I’m so happy to see him look any shade other than ash grey that no sight has ever been dearer to me. He blinks a couple of times, snuggling close to my chest in an instinctive, thoughtless sort of way as he tries to glance around only to find himself too weak to lift his head for it, then looks up at me, befuddled and expectant. I swallow at how he seems to have known it was me next to him on the bed before even opening his eyes — the healer lady had said it might help him make sense of things faster if he woke to somethin’ familiar, guess she was right — and carefully stroke some hair away from his forehead. It’s curling a bit from the dampness there and in a state of uncombed chaos he’d never allow under normal circumstances; it makes him look, I dunno. Different than normal. Like a kid, almost. Small, for all that he’s those two eternal inches taller that he keeps lording over me. My arms tighten around him. She’d said he was gonna be completely fine after some rest ‘n all, but… still.

“Malcolm?” he says, voice scratching up his throat, eyes shining with feverish brightness but lucid enough, too earnestly if blearily confounded to be worried. “What the hell’s goin’... where…”

“Sssh, don’t worry about it, I’ve got it handled,” I say gruffly, pressing my lips to his slightly too warm forehead and hearing his small surprised-but-not-displeased noise. “You just… sleep it off and get back on your feet again so I can yell at you for that dumb shit you pulled back there.”

He laughs a bit at that, finally managing to glance around the spartan interior of the small stone cottage and seemingly not finding the results of the exercise terribly rewarding. With a strained grunt he lets his head fall back to the straw pillow and slowly nuzzles his face against my chest. “Oh, I pulled some dumb shit,” he murmurs, sardonic even while weak as a kitten.

I growl, squeezing him tighter against me as carefully as I can. The broken ribs probably healed up along with the wound when the healer did her magic lightshow… thing, but I don’t feel like testing that theory right now regardless. “Oh, don’t even start with me, Tobias. Gettin’ in the way of the blast like that, I — you — ” I splutter for a few seconds, having to suppress a wince at the memory of the way he’d pushed me out of the way, that strange confused moment afterwards when all I’d been able to notice was his weight on top of me and the smell of blood. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” he drawls, a smile in his exhausted voice as he rests his forehead against my collarbone and winds his arm over my waist, using the right now truly pathetic extent of his strength to draw me close. “Now you know how it feels.”

He sounds much smugger about it than anyone decently should. I bite my tongue against a couple of choice words that fight to get out in response only because he just gently bounced off death’s door and I’m still stupid with gratitude that I managed to catch him before he hit the ground. Y’know, spiritually speaking. So instead I sigh and comb my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Shit, T.F., just… stop spendin’ breath being smart with me and start spendin’ it on getting better, huh?”

“Aye aye, Head Nurse Graves,” he murmurs. Despite the amiable sarcasm I can feel sleep pulling at him again, his limbs going heavy and slack as he burrows against me, breathing growing slow and deep. In some ways it’s like every night when we go to sleep, and in other ways…

I brush my lips to the top of his head, and he sighs softly and fumbles, clumsily, for my hand. He kisses the back of it very gently, then looks up and runs his fingers down my cheek, pausing over the small cut there that was, somehow, the only mark I walked away from this whole debacle with — it’s already scabbing over.

He smiles.

“It was worth it,” he says, gaze momentarily bright and clear like sun reflecting on the surface of the ocean in calm. “...are you okay?”

Am I… but, well, that’s a talk for another time and I know I ain’t getting him to let it go before I answer properly, he’s impossible like that sometimes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. A bit rattled, but that’ll pass. Now sleep,” I add severely, wrapping my arms around him properly again to stop him from wriggling around so much, and he chuckles and dutifully lets himself settle against the shelter of my body under the woollen blankets, his face tucked safely against the line of my throat. He’s snoring gently within minutes, in that hilariously dainty little way he has as opposed to my wall-shaking one. Reportedly. Mainly according to the testimony of a known liar and scoundrel, I’d take it with a grain of salt if I were you.

I stay awake for a long time, listening to him breathe and feeling the warmth of his body against me as I hold him. The healer comes in once or twice to check up on him and tells me each time, mingled sympathy and amusement in her voice, that he really is going to be okay and that I can sleep too.

At around dawn I do, finally lulled by the warmth of the covers and the strong, undaunted beat of his heart.

For reasons of its own that I do not fully understand my brain chose to write this instead of working on any of the many WIPs I've got going on, so here we go lol. some hurt comfort nonsense coming right up

[fictropes]

oh boy i sure did write many words in 2020

Hi! I am copying people due to i want to.  This is a lil (well... 63) round up of all the fics I wrote this year! Cos i’m very evil @ myself and writing fic and think i’m either not doing enough, or not doing it good enough, so i wanna full list of what I actually did so I can see my own accomplishments and can maybe... clap 4 myself for once. And honestly writing has helped MASSIVELY with my depression so.. that’s a bonus. 

ALSO. this is a big huge thankyou to everyone! I only joined here + started writing in august and you’ve all been so so nice and welcoming and supportive  <333 ;_; and I know they say write for yourself... but honestly peoples comments and excitement about my stuff has just been really, really lovely and I would never have written this much without all of you cheering me on<3. 

so here is a list of everything i’ve written, organised by length and everything, so if you find yourself bored over the holidays... have a lil browse. (Sorry if u are on mobile and this doesn’t show as a read more) 

Chaptered:

Can we try again? series (M) Complete - 35k  - “Yeah, Phil. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dan answers, softer than he’d wanted because he already knows what he’s about to do next.(or Dan doesn't turn up in 2009 and bumps into Phil 11 years later at a youtube convention 2. I like cupcakes, especially the gay variety (M) Complete - 30k - Firstly, Dan was 29. How was that a mature student?Secondly, his actual book was on the university fucking syllabus.(or the one in which Dan tries university again in a desperate attempt to prolong his procrastination, and his lecturer Phil is apparently something of a fan) 3. 7 Letters series (M) Complete - 9k - Your penpal can be the person you live with, actually. 4. There's Beans in Here (T) Complete - 2k - Phil has his wisdom teeth removed; Phil says many questionable things. 5. Roadtrip (E) Complete - 8k - “Exactly. I am right, as always.”“As always.” Dan agrees.Series 6. night shift, please (E) Wip - 27k I PROMISE THIS WILL COME BACK IN 2021 - Ten years and he’ll never get over how early he has to get up sometimes. In all honesty he prefers the night shift. 7. Still Not Calling it Fate (M) Wip - 14k - It’s become a bit of a thing, a bit of a thing that everyone he crosses paths with takes the piss out of him for 8. when i met you, a blue rush began (M) Complete - 5k - They end up in a small restaurant overlooking the sea, everything here is so blue. The sky, the sea, Phil’s eyes, the shirt he’s wearing buttoned up all the way to the top. 9. Luggage Tags (E) Complete - 2.5k - Just because it looks like your suitcase, it doesn't necessarily mean that it is. 10. Demon in the sack (E) Complete - 2.5k - Dan’s leg jiggles beneath his desk, knee hitting the table as he tries to force himself to hang up and ring the number he was supposed to ring— he doesn’t, he can’t. Long ( for me) oneshots (3k+) 11. Electronics and the Phil's who break them (M) Complete - 9k - The first time’s an accident, a proper accident— a Phil forgot how to hold his cup and now he’s watching his coffee seep into his keyboard type accident. 12. A Letter of Specifics (T) Complete - 4k - You'll know it's your soulmate because no one else on earth could be doing what they're doing. 13. The Benefits of A Weak Floor (M) Complete - 4k - He quite literally falls through Dan’s ceiling. 14. 10:35 on a Thursday (E) Complete -  3.7k - He’s tapping his pen against the paper, acting as though he isn’t asking Phil to take a sex quiz at 10:35am on a Thursday morning. 15. 2009, catboys (T) Complete - 3.2k - “You have your own ears, can’t have four.”“Why?” 16. Wrong Room (T) Complete - 3k - “Congratulations!’’ And he was expecting to hear a cry, or at least his mother telling him to be quiet because a certain baby was sleeping. Instead he heard the deep clear of a throat, a rustling of sheets. 2k-3k oneshots 17. Dinner with a stranger (T) Complete - 2.5k - @amazingphl hi! second year of doing this, sooo if anyone has nowhere to go for Christmas dinner I am once again offering..my flat (and by extension me) ;oSeries 18. Easy Lover (M) Complete - 2.4k - ''Yeah. We're always fine.'' It was always fine. It was always easy, despite always behind hard. 19. Cold Season (M) Complete - 2k - Dan is ill, insatiable and another word beginning with I. 1k-2k oneshots 20. Morose men on rooftops (T) Complete - 1.9k - “Dunno, maybe chatting up morose men on roofs is my thing.” He laughs, and it’s a nice noise. 21. Love with tongues of fire (T) Complete - 1.7k - So when Dan waltzed into the room, declaring his hunger Phil thought nothing of it. Just another night for another takeaway. 22. Your Rocks are my Rocks (T) Complete - 1.7k - Phil wants a new rock for Norman, Dan wants a peaceful life. 23. Joint Content (M) Complete - 1.6k - It started of a as a joke— a Joint Content joke. 24. 24/7 Fantasies (M) Complete - 1.5k - He thinks about Dan 24/7, constantly in two separate fantasies 25. A Conversation in Multiple Hallways (T) Complete - 1.5k - You're still here then? 26. Sharing Space (T) Complete - 1.5k - It's 2010 and dan has had a day. 27. The Obvious (T) Complete - 1.5k - "Can I use that?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, already scrawling it beneath the only three words he currently has— I love you. 28. I'm Thinking of Ending Things (T) Complete - 1.5k - Dan hears half a conversation, jumps to one whole conclusion. 29. Love Language of the Tactile (T) Complete - 1.4k - “I’m just— that’s a hypothetical.” Dan leans in this time, takes the touches that Phil always so freely gives away. “Can’t kiss in secret rooms if I leave.” 30. Don't Let the Self-Doubt Ruin You (T) Complete - 1.3k - “I’m here.” “Yeah, you’re here.” 31. Conflict Resolution (T) Complete - 1.3k - Following recent events we’ve decided it best we take a combative approach to your current workplace issues, we have booked you into a conflict resolution class this Thursday afternoon - we will not be paying you to attend. 32. when it comes to love (i want a slow hand) (E) Complete - 1.2k - And there it is, the refusal of anything in return. This is just for Dan and it always will be. 33. You're Still The one (T) Complete - 1.1k - “What’re you thinking about?” “You.” 34. Teach Me, Dad. (T) Complete - 1k - "Do you think I could be the next Mozart?” 35. The Logistics of a Clone (M) Complete - 1k - “I don’t think that’s a clone, though, like maybe more of a Doppelgänger.” Dan doesn’t know why they’re delving so deep into this, why he’s so damn bothered about being right. “It’s just literally you.” 36. All's fair in Love and Monopoly (T) Complete - 1k - Phil does not play by the rules, Dan lets him win anyway. Under 1k oneshots 37. Hide out in your heart (E)  Complete - 0.9k - The second time Dan comes to visit it’s different. 38. Oh, there you are. (G) Complete - 0.9k - So after all this, after everything, he doesn’t think anything of it when someone else slips into his dms. 39. The Boy has Attitude (T) Complete - 0.9k - “You didn’t tell me you looked like this.”“Like what?”“This!” Phil’s waving a physical copy of the magazine in his face— so that’s where he’d been. 40. Hairties (and how not to use them) (M) Complete - 0.8k - “Why would you do that? Let us settle in, nice and slow and— gently does it.” 41. The Second Apartment. (T) Complete - 0.8k - It’s a stop-gap apartment, a we’re going to get our forever home after this. 42. Japan, 2019. (G) Complete - 0.8k - NO summary, just an obviously I was going to write this after phil's post 43. Doting Man (T) Complete - 0.7k - They’re both drunk, Phil more so— definitely more so.Series 44.  Imposter (T) Complete - 0.7k - Among us is.. a bastard. 45. Ratemyprofessors.com (M) Complete - 0.7k - ‘Maybe if that Phil bloke from the English dep he’s always staring at fucked him he’d stop being so uptight’ 46. Failed Attempts (T) Complete - 0.7k - Dan enlists the help of Phil for his latest Instagram. 47. Bonus Prize (M) Complete - 0.7k - Phil Trash Number One 48. Feels like home (G) Complete - 0.7k - Home is where the Phil is. 49. We can make Forever work (T) Complete - 0.7k - It’s a moment of realising forever may sound too much to people, but we’ll get through everything together— we don’t have any other choice. 50. Scene in the Kitchen (T) Complete - 0.7k - New place 51. 4'11 (T) Complete - 0.6k - Dan is baby 52. Pillow Imprints (T) Complete - 0.6k - Dan is a menace, and Phil loves him anyway. 53. Parachute Jacket (T) Complete - 0.5k - Dan thinks Phil is obsessed with them Those few times I thougt I was goddamn Ri**ard S*ken 54. Home (G) Complete - 0.7k - It’s their forever home, because their actual forever lives inside of it. 55. secrets spoken in empty rooms (T) Complete - 1k - So he wants to be the same, but he wants Dan more. 56. Separately Together  (T) Complete - 0.9k - Phil’s soft hands and even softer words. It gets harder to leave. Gets to the point where Dan turns off an alarm just so he misses the train. 57. It's not hard to fall (T) Complete - 0.7k - Still a little bit of your words I long to hear Some more Epistolary (apart from 7 letters)  58. A Play in One Act (T) Complete - 1.1k - [Manchester Piccadilly train-station, midday, October 19th, 2009.] 59. R/AITA (T) Complete - 0.8k - AM I THE ASSHOLE FOR MAKING MY BOYFRIEND BE A WORM?Series 60. Lonely Hearts (T) Complete - 1.8k - I will not say you were crying on the tube (out of politeness) 61. Conversations of the Lazy Kind (T) Complete - 1k - eggs? wot? Smells like eggs

[withoneheadlight]

Fic Writer Questions

I was tagged by @neonponders, thank you so much, love! 🔅🔅🔅💓💓

How many works do you have on AO3?

I have a few accounts? xD I’ve got 23 in the one I’m using now, but it's all very tiny.

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

54,159

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

mmmm…

Game of Thrones

Supernatural

Teen Wolf

Harry potter

Pacific rim

Stranger Things

And a few minor fandoms

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

‘That’s how you close an open wound’ | ‘Kinda wanna make us happen’ | ‘It burns in my tongue’ | ‘The Buckley-Hargrove dilemma’ | ‘Forget the paths written in the palm of your hand’

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I always, always try to. Sometimes It might take me a little while to get to things but I try to never forget to answer. I honestly appreciate the effort it takes to leave a comment or a note or tags in a reblog, and I also try to always answer to those. I think it’s important to show to that person how much it means to you that they’ve taken the time to reach out. Because it is so important to the writer. So important it can even be determinant for us to keep on writing.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Uff. It was a Ned/Robert, for Game of Thrones (more like Asoiaf). And I basically cried the whole time. I still do, when I re-read it. I managed to actually capture something, in that one.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Sometimes? I wrote a Supernatural/Lost Boys thing back in the day that’s still 2? 3? Chapters from being finished? Hopefully one day. And I have not as much a crossover as an ‘inspired on’ the Goonies universe Teen Wolf fic where Derek and Stiles go to Stiles’ mom natal town to investigate a polish ghost pirate ship while falling in love. And a tiny harringrove /Men in Black au where Agent S and Agent B end up paired with a demo-puppy.

Wich one's the craziest, I honestly don't know. All of them feel pretty ??? to me! xD

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeh, a few times. Basically just bc of writing m|m, of bc my 'awful writing' or for catboy!Steve xD.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yep. I’ve always considered myself more smut writer than anything else. Now I guess I’m a smut writer with pretensions xD. (Truth be told, when I started writing I didn't imagine I would be capable of writing anything more than that). So I wasn’t actyally writing that much smut when I landed on harringrove. I was more focused on the pretensions (aka the gosh pirate ship fic). But harringrove and their chemistry hit me hard, I literally put aside everything else and started writing them like crazy, including lots of smut bc hfahfsafhfhsifhs. Another reason is that it’s hard for me to keep other kinds of stories short, but smut not that much (I get an idea for an slightly emotionally charged scene I like and I suddenly feel the need to write 10k for it minimum). So I focused more on smutty stuff when I jumped into this language, as a way to have something finished on my hands, feel like I was making some kind of progress (BUT ALSO: THE CHEMISTRY).

And I guess my smut comes in diametric opposites, or at least that’s how I perceive it. Plain, straightforward smut, or heavily (in my head, at least) emotional smut. I’M IN LOVE WITH the way we can use touch and slow pace and physical sensations and glances to enhance what we’re saying about emotions in a sexual scene.

Also, and contradictorily, smut is so hard to write sometimes for me! So another good thing is that when I finish one smutty story I suddenly feel like a can write anything! Haha.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeh. A few times. Both Sterek oneshots :(.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yess! <3<3<3< To Chinese and Russian and English and I <3<3<3<3<3<3<33<3<3<3<

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Was about two once, with a friend. But sadly both out lives became real busy, so didn’t. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll be cut for it, but I wanted to test it.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

The last ship I land on always feels like my fav to me. But it might be true in this case. Bc yeah, harringrove.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ufff, too many.

What are your writing strengths?

Uh. Eh. Well. I hopeguess sometimes it sounds good? I can’t control that in eng as much as i do in spa bc I don’t have any real knowledge of the phonology but, well. I try. And that’s one of the aspects I put more thought/work into because I LOVE that.

Sometimes I like my dialogue and sometimes I like my pacing/rhythm. Sometimes I feel like I’ve managed to convey/describe one feeling the way I wanted to.

I dunno. I try to keep my head in a the ‘get the work done’ space not as much as in the ‘is good’. Not easy but, again, try is the key word in here.

I rely a lot in the editing process but I think I’m actually good at that. At least, when I finish, I like the prettified version way more than the ‘raw’ one.

What are your writing weaknesses?

My writing reads the same way my brain works: in a cluttered, messy way. And I don’t like it but. I feel like I can’t change it. Can control it, sometimes. I manage to keep the ‘too much’ at bay but other times it just wins me. I also keep rolling my eyes at how sticky-sweet I can get and despise the way I keep repeating formulas and sentence structures (I feel you @neonponders ) but. Ugh. They just. Happen? Gah.

But! I actually feel more at peace with all that than it might look like xD. ‘Cause the alternatives is not writing and that I cannot do so 🤷‍♂️

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Ahhh, I LOVE IT! Started doing it with the kegboys, basically to treat myself XD, and I’ve got it in a few wips and also in this dumb thing I wrote. I think it’s fun, and it also adds certain feeling of expansion to the world the characters live in, helps us remember there’s more (people, places, types of lives and ways of communicating and meanings) aside from the ones represented in the scene/wholeness of the story. I’m aware that too much can be confusing and tiring for the reader, but not more than a bit is needed, really. Also, can be used to induce some fun misunderstandings xD.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Some fantasy book series I was reading at the moment, during my ‘epic fantasy’ phase xD.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Probably one supernatural fic I wrote ages ago. It isn’t particularly well written or anything. But was one of the first longer-ish things I wrote. And I still feel proud about that one. And I always felt so happy writing Theon Greyjoy, so I really love the things I wrote for him. And the ship fic, again, if I ever finish it! Except I feel like I can’t stop writing harringrove.

I’m tagging! @memes-saved-me @edith-moonshadow @disdaidal @dyingontheharringrovehill @wherearetheplums @c0bblenygma @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger @pretty-bratty @ghostofjellyfishforgotten

[undinoble]

Crazy long text ahead i warn you, just explaining some process I went through while drawing this Frank and Julie low light dying thingie, probably gonna drop some wips along the way, you may want to see… idk, dealer’s choice

!TRIGGER WARNING! Violence, death, suicide. Proceed with caution.

Well where do we begin? The inspiration maybe?

Exploring the magical world of Spotify when a band came in, one of the first songs (if not the first one) of theirs I heard was Partners in Crime by Set It Off, you know, love at first sight, love for their voices, their music style, aaand the lyrics, OH BOI the lyrics, check it out:

“You’ll never takes us alive We swore that death will do us part They’ll call our crimes a work of art You’ll never takes us alive We’ll live like spoiled royalty, lovers and partners”

Dunno, for two passionate juvenil delinquents that just wants trouble this line really fits to me, the dreamy couple feels invencible.

“Everybody freeze Nobody move Put the money in the bag Or we will shoot Empty out the vault And me and my doll will be on our way”

It’s actually interesting to think of the Legion robbing a bank, it’s not like troublesome teens didn’t do that in movies c’mon, it’s a small city, they wear masks, ez!

“Our paper faces flood the streets And if the heat comes close enough to burn Then we’ll play with fire ‘cause

You’ll never takes us alive”

THIS. This is so a Legion thing to say. Can you imagine their masks all around the streets as a warning like “HEY, WE ARE HERE, FEAR US” I love this

“Here we find our omnipotent outlaws Fall behind the grind tonight Left unaware that the lone store owner Won’t go down without a fight Where we gonna go He’s got us pinned Baby I’m a little scared Now, don’t you quit He’s sounded the alarm I hear the sirens closing in”

The second big moment, the adrenaline along with the instrumental is crazy for real

“The skies are black with lead-filled rain A morbid painting on display This is the night the young love died Buried at each others side”

THIS. (again) is the main theme of the drawing, it’s where the inspiration flood over me, the scene was clear in my mind, c’mon if you read till here there’s absolutely no reason not to listen to the song you won’t regret im not even getting payed to show it off

ACTUALLY FORGET IT- i just won a sub on Cody Carson’s stream WHAT IS LIFE??????? Thanks Max!!!

I totally didn’t draw this while listening to the music when i should be working what are you talking about??

Hold the sketch, focus on the gun. It’s dope aint it?

Anyways, here goes the lore, along with the music lyrics I filled up the gaps, well, Suz and Joey are not around, maybe doing school stuff Julie didn’t feel like doing so she decides to hang out with Frank in the meanwhile, they’re on the lodge, bored, upset about the world cause it’s what teens do in their free time, listening to one of their mixtapes, probably Frank’s, the more hardcore one when the idea hit: what if they try some good mischief? “There’s a small banks a mile from here, want some adrenaline babe?” And oh of course she does, grab your mask, here we go

Sorry, not a big legs-drawing fan…

They grab their knives, put on the masks, get ready, drive to the bank. I didnt really think this part through, the song says it all. Long story short - they rob the bank, the police arrives, the action begins.

They brought their knives, didn’t expect the cops to show up with guns, damn they didnt even know little Ormond cops had actual guns. After long minutes of hiding on the bank safe the couple decides to fight their way out, they would be more useful alive than dead so laws could apply, but that went out of question once Frank stabbed the first bank employee on his triumphal way out, the police don’t think twice before shooting to protect the citizens inside.

Frank and Julie have too little time to react, the stress and anxiety kicks in, they go feral, crazy cinematic bullet avoids, for a moment it’s possible to get away. It all happened too quick, but in Julie’s vision it went slow motion. She just saw a cop leaning behind a car, aiming directly at Frank, even her fastest reaction wasn’t fast enough to stop the trigger from popping. With tears in her eyes she watches as the bullet hits her boyfriend right in the chest. 

She snaps. One target in mind, she sprints to the cop and stabs him over and over until she’s sure he won’t see the sun set ever again. She takes his gun and rushes towards Frank who is kneeling against a taxi holding his torax, she screams that they must go to the hospital immediately but he refuses, hospital would be just a quick stop on his way to jail. No fucking way. 

He demands to go back to the lodge, the cops are too busy helping their wounded partner to look for them, they think Frank may be dropped dead somewhere on the street after multiple shots, the two of them must flee before the cops realize the mistake and go hunting for them. NOW.

Julie side-carries Frank back to their car, the lack of a license of her own won’t stop her from driving as fast as the car can. Breathing heavily while constantly telling Frank to hold on, they will find a way out, they must do. Oh what a fucking stupid idea holy SHIT. 

The travel takes half the time it usually does and still feels like hours. The car gets all red with Frank’s blood that keeps leaking. Once they arrive, Frank wants to go upstair, Julie shouts at him to keep next the central campfire once he should grab some heat (and for god’s sake why is he still carrying the money bag they stole????), anyway he gets the last word and they climb the stairs up and lay on the bed, Frank hisses from the pain but also sighs in relief for the soft spot under him, ignoring Julie cursing besides him, saying she can still call an ambulance, she doesnt want to lose him, Suz and Joey will be devastated, although he just replies with the phrase they were saying sooner that day “They’ll never take us alive”.

After 20 minutes of agony, low whispers of memories of how they met, what they had been through together and a huge amount of blood moisturing the covers, Frank says he’s feeling light-headed, Julie looks at him and he’s paper white, the blood loss is finally getting to him, she wants to cry, scream, curse and stab that damn cop a hundred times again, but all she does is cuddle her head harder against his shoulder and tell him she loves him, that she will keep his legacy alive, with Joey and Susie, she will revenge him. He chuckles and slowly feels the life being drained from his weaked body until everything goes black.

Julie need a few seconds to process. Frank died. For real. He was good a few hours ago, he was right. They would never take them alive. Death could do them apart, but, he never said for how long they would be apart.

She reaches for the gun on the hand under Frank’s body. THAT DAMN GUN. She aims it to the side of her head, never leaving Frank’s side on the bed. Triggers it.

“Partners in crime”

Damn did I just write a fucking fanfiction? This shit is way longer than I expected, did anybody even get down here?

Well, this is the part of the drawing where i left cause I just couldn’t afford to work on it, have in mind everytime the file were opened the whole lore came in my head, and fuck did i feel dizzy writing it all down. Hell the bloody details get me, seeing Frank so white with a blue undertone simulating the lifeless body gave me headaches fr. My escape was drawing other things until the courage to finish it came back. It was easier because the story kinda faded away from my mind, the drawing became “lighter” to deal with.

Well, guess that’s it. I hardly have this big insight while drawing, to visualize the finished piece on my brain and it’s just so fucking cool, making art with so many mixed feelings along, and overall pride, cause i feel so proud with the result you have no idea. It isn’t perfect tho, but i like it anyway. So, thank you so much if you made it all the way here. gonna sleep now for fucks sake im gonna pass out bye

[puppy-phum]

fic tag game

thank you so much for tagging me @i-am-just-a-kiddo ♥ i love rambling about my fics and my writing even if it always also brings up all the doubts and insecurities i have but. these are my children so i will show them some love :’) and it is always just wonderful to share this all with you my dear ♥

placing under cut bc i do ramble, as yall know to expect by now!

Name: VishCount i’ve already explained the origin of that name a couple of times so am sparing you from that but gotta just say that i never expected to get so fond of this username and the nicknames that followed ♥

Fandoms: wow ok so buckle up, this is gonna be a ride first i gotta mention the finnish fandom for this youtuber group called LaeppaVika. i adored them as a teenager and i still watch the videos sometimes :’) couple of the members still stream stuff even if the group has pretty much fallen apart by now and am just very fond every time. they feel like home in a way. those fics were my first ones and am still kinda proud of some of those?

then there’s this one random finnish utapri fic i once wrote... tbh i’m not sure why my anime fandoms never made me write anything? maybe it was the inexperience and the fear of using a second language lol 

after i got over that and got into BTS, i’ve written a ton for them. most of those are oneshots that vary from 1k words to 10k or something. a couple of longer ones have sprouted too and one is still in the making and i have sooooo many ideas. mostly just random aus. i adore to write those. 

lately MDZS has been my favored fandom and it has gotten some oneshots too as well as my gigantic xicheng fic that hangs somewhere well above 100k now. i wish to finish the last part for that soon but who knows, maybe it will take longer than expected sigh. and now DMBJ has pushed in as something that yells at me to write tho i’ve only posted a short oneshot for it for now. and oh, last year i also posted a couple of silly oneshots for 2moons! that was... weird tbh but am glad i did that. 

i wish i had more fandoms tbh bc there is so much interesting stuff there and i have so many ideas and inspirations but i’m very slow at writing. things don’t always just come out and some fandoms don’t grasp me for long enough that i would be able to tap into any projects. but i have no hurry, right?

Tropes: hmm do i have any? am not sure. i thought that maybe soulmate aus or some abo stuff was my thing but i’ve slowly drifted away from those. then it comes to just... idk. hurt/comfort? found families? i also adore slow burn these days and i feel like i’ve gotten a bit better at writing that but it’s still a struggle. also just, as already noted, all these different aus? mostly fantasy based ones. those are always so cool and somehow very whimsical? and lately i’ve also just fallen into this hole where i love to write some bittersweet tragedies or at least stuff that feels like a tragedy in some sense (and i blame my dear kiddo for that bc they’ve written the sweetest of tragedies and i want that too ok)

Fic I spent most time on: how do you count this? do wips count? bc if they do, then I feel like my xicheng fic called you’re the sunset and i’m the last purple left behind is it. it just keeps on going and i feel like i’ve given it all of my waking hours and heart and soul.  then it could also be my BTS abo fic My Lungs for You to Breathe that is slowly reaching its second year? am not sure. but it has been going for ages bc sometimes it comes and sometimes it goes and currently i’ve spent over six months without updating it and. yeah.  (it would be nice to mention some fic here that i’ve made some research for but tbh i never do any research. am horrible like that but i’ve never just. had the energy? tho i have hopes that i could go on this wild research spree for this one guardian idea i have but let’s see...) 

Favorite fic(s) you’ve written: (making a list bc am unable to choose, fight me)

and you remain - my pingxie oneshot that just helped me to get all of the feelings i had after tlt2 pour out. am very fond of it destiny tied us together - some introspection of lwj and jc’s relationship and how it changes throughout the years as they both mature, learn things about themselves, fall in love and realize that they share the same ppl in their hearts (and maybe develop a tentative friendship bc they’re so similar in so many ways). i had so much fun with this and it just felt like my brightest moment haha painting your skin with all of me��- the xicheng soulmate oneshot i wrote at some point and still adore. it just seemed to work and in the middle of my xicheng struggles writing them so briefly and gently just felt right pouring love (growing flowers) - the ot7 oneshot i wrote bc of this one amazing twt prompt/moodboard. it was the last part of my mono series. i love it so much. joon was so nice to write throughout the whole thing ;;  lilies bloomed under your carpet - my god au for taejoon. it poured out of me so wonderfully and it was so amazing. still one of my favorite creations, this whole au.  Stories Untold / chapter 3 - this was a collection of taejoon oneshots that i was trying to make but am not sure if i will ever finish them all. but this one, where tae is a forest god and joon a human able to see supernatural things, is very dear to me bc it just feels complete

Fic I spent least time on: gosh i think it must be either my first wangxian oneshot we had it almost or my touch-starved joon oneshot show me my skin and touch my heart with very soft and lovely taejoon. both created themselves in a couple of hours?

Longest fic: currently my xicheng monster but i somehow expect my bts abo fic to get even longer if i ever manage to finish it

Shortest fic: it’s apparently my namseok fic for joon’s tokyo called missing you (i’m homesick). it created itself out of my own experiences of living in a long distance relationship and is one of my faves in that series.  

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks: most hits and comments go for my bts abo fic which doesn’t really surprise me when it’s a multichapter fic :’D most kudos go for the already mentioned xicheng oneshot and most bookmarks go for the bts ot7 fic!

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: hmm if i could rewrite something, it would probably be my first bts fic and my second long fic called Even the Universe Makes Mistakes. that soulmate au now feels a bit outdated and there are many parts i would like to change and things i would love to think again.  then if i was allowed to expand some world, i would love to write more for the xicheng soulmate au bc there are many other pairings i would love to explore there too or just to see lxc’s take on the events perhaps. other thing would be my namgi oneshot it passes (for us both) bc i adore namgi and the love they create in that brief moment. 

Share a bit of a WIP: it hasn’t been long since i shared snippets of several wips but let’s go with my pingxie which i’ve been working on and am just so damn excited about (especially now that i can use the bazaar photoshoot imagery as inspiration):

“He moves, pulled in by the darkness of the lake, mirroring the softly blue sky with its gray, heavy clouds. The snow lands on his nose, into his lashes, clings to his coat and his shoes. He doesn’t feel cold, doesn’t hear anything beyond the softness of the snowfall. Nothing exists and everything does, real and fake at the same time, comforting but still making him feel afraid.

He could lose himself here, could be lost from everything. He could stay and be forgotten, could join those people that tried to make him remain, could take the easier way. He could rest, just like he was supposed to do so many times before.

Maybe he does belong, after all. Maybe he is part of this place, so awfully familiar with it, so willing to even stop his own heart to get here. And maybe he is not, this place only hungry for those who don’t yet remain, refuse to give into this dream-like space.”

thank you once more for tagging me my dear! this was fun even if looking back to my old fics and all the lack of updating and posting these days makes me feel kinda bad... i’ve just been in a slump lately and am slowly trying to get out of it even if i almost fall back in all the time. it’s funny when last spring i felt like i was at my peak sigh. but well, as i’ve already said, i have time right?

i dunno so many writers over here but i’m tagging @cross-d-a and @kholran bc i’m curious about your work. also tagging @inkblue-black and @jockvillagersonly if you want to blabber about something or if you just want to see this. and oh also tagging @wangxianbunnydoodles bc am always open for new ppl and i know that you write ^^ 

[hanmajoerin]

Fun fact about my newest WIP, Lost Time: I wrote most of the first chapter while I was drunk and got way too excited about finishing a chapter of anything that I posted it before editing it sober 🙈. I just finished writing the second chapter of the story and will have it edited and posted by the end of the weekend or early next week. That being noted, I wanted to repost the edited version here for your viewing pleasure. I’ll be making a separate post with a preview for chapter two shortly! 

It’s been updated on AO3 and Fanfiction.Net as well!

Kagome found her gaze fixated on her high school uniform which sat neatly in the back of a blue locker. Soft shadows hugged the navy and beige fabric as a soft sound—almost like white noise or static—seemed to embrace her thoughts. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Kagome reached out and grabbed her clothes. Exhaling slowly, she turned away from the locker so that when she opened her eyes nothing would have changed. 

It was hard to believe that a year had passed since the Bone Eater’s Well stopped working. Like a catalyst, the broken connection between her time and InuYasha’s changed so much about Kagome without having to change itself. Her attendance soared, her old lifestyle came slamming into her weekdays, her acquired fear of the darkness felt like a slow burn even though it wasn’t, and now she had invented ways to carry the consequences.

Even though her friends in the Feudal Era were alive and well, they weren’t here. Kagome supposed she was grieving but she felt as if she should be... happier. Miroku’s wind tunnel must have vanished so he and Sango were probably married with a child on the way. Shippo was probably having a lot of fun staying in the village and playing with kids his own age while InuYasha... everyone always said that he was restless in the village, but Kagome liked to think he was somewhat happy. Not that happy and InuYasha often mixed, but Naraku and the Sacred Jewel were defeated, he should at least be able to relax. 

The young high schooler sighed, imagining InuYasha asleep on her bed. He always appeared angelic especially when a soft pink comforter acted as an unintentional backdrop. But once he was awake, he and Shippo could easily tie for the title of “Most Mischievous.” Remembering the stories Gramps told her about how he ran circles around the table left Kagome hoping that, at the very least, her half-demon companion wasn’t driving the villagers insane.

“Higurashi!” Yua Watanabe, the archery club’s captain, called out with a slight wave. 

Kagome dropped her hands from the ties of her hakama, offering her senior a soft, “Hi, Watanabe.”

As Watanabe approached, Kagome gulped, attempting to swallow the idea of InuYasha. “Thanks for all of your hard work this year. I’m really glad you joined the club!” Yua exclaimed with a carefree ease that Kagome envied. 

“Thank you; being able to do archery is important to me.”

Yua nodded a few times in agreement, not at all able to comprehend the meaning behind Kagome’s remark. She continued talking, also unaware of how Kagome’s thoughts about the past crawled back past her throat to nestle in her mind. She never asked to leave her double life behind, was never given a chance to choose. 

“Oh, and we’re really looking forward to having you start training to compete next year. I know you’ll do well!”

Kagome flashed Yua another modest smile but before she could thank her for a second time, she yawned. “Excuse me,” Kagome apologized. Another large yawn stretched at her consciousness. “I’m just going to go to bed now...”

The world returned to Kagome slowly. She blinked her eyes against an overwhelming amount of deep browns and warm oranges. The ceiling above almost looked like the wood roofing of a hut and the unmistakable popping fire and chirping crickets sounded like a lullaby. It’s almost like I’m back in the Feudal Era, she thought to herself as she yawned. Just as she was about to turn and settle back into sleep, she heard him.

“You’re awake.” 

InuYasha’s voice sent Kagome lurching forward, all thoughts of sleep vanishing instantly. “InuYasha!” she exclaimed, her heart beating as quickly as her head spun. The high schooler clutched at her chest with uncertainty, brown eyes daring to take in the telltale colors of silver and amber. She spent so many days longing for them to come into view.

“Hey,” InuYasha began, resting his hands on her shoulders. When—how did I come back? Kagome asked herself as she reached up to grasp one of the half-demon’s hands. She never realized that his calloused skin could feel like a balm, working without delay to relieve this past year’s emotional build up. InuYasha was seated properly before her, his face highlighted by firelight and grounded by a somber expression.“You shouldn’t be pushing yourself right now. Kaede said you should rest.” 

Kagome’s eyes had to be shining as he—InuYasha!— gingerly lowered her down to the floor. She could feel moisture building bridges across her waterline, too. Of course there were so many questions she needed to blurt out, but watching InuYasha pull a thin blanket up past her shoulders stilled her. Kagome was just happy he was here. He felt so real; his touch, the timbre of his voice—everything about this InuYasha. If she was dreaming, she didn’t want to wake up. “I can’t believe you came for me,” Kagome croaked out because she always knew that he would.

“Of course I did, stupid,” InuYasha chided, crossing his arms. A small giggle filtered past Kagome’s lips as he turned up his nose. When the schoolgirl fantasized about her reunion with InuYasha, he never acted this casual. They spent a little more than a year apart from each other for the first time since they met and it was entirely too long. Had she not been so wrapped up in her own emotions, Kagome may have chastised him back. “Would have been easier for me to do that if you stayed hidden instead of charging out of the brush like that. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, Kagome.”

Kagome furrowed her brow slightly at the comment. “What?” She asked, wiping away a tear with her index finger.

InuYasha thrust his nose even further in the air. “Keh, don’t play innocent; damn ogre’s club wasn’t that hard, I was fine.”

Kagome frowned as his words sunk in. “I...” She brought a hand to her temple, rubbing it lightly as she tried to process what the half-demon told her.

All traces of agitation scurried from InuYasha’s features at her motion. “Kagome, is your head bothering you? Kaede gave me some medicine to help with that, let me get it for you.”

Before he could walk away, Kagome grabbed at his pants, instantly stilling him. “Kagome...?”

“Where’s Kaede?”

“‘Dunno,” InuYasha shrugged. “She probably went home or somethin’.” Lightly shaking her hand away, he walked to the fire to settle the kettle over its steady flames.

So InuYasha has his own hut and he wants me to stay, Kagome thought to herself. A molten smile spread, matching the warm blush she was sure dusted her cheeks.

Kagome rolled to her side to watch InuYasha as he babysat his kettle. Everything from the painted scowl to the delicate way he mixed tea was deliberate and when he was beside her once more, she pulled herself into a sitting position effortlessly. As he passed her the cup, his hands lingered against hers. It was glaringly clear that InuYasha wanted to pick up where they had left off a few weeks before they defeated Naraku. Still, Kagome couldn’t help but laugh slightly, not used to an InuYasha who was anything but abrasive. “You’ve sure grown up some,” she pointed out, tilting her head to the side.

“Uh...” InuYasha replied, breaking their contact to shove his hands into the voluminous red sleeves of the fire rat. “You uh, really hit your head there, didn’t ya?” Kagome frowned again—hit her head? Didn’t listen to him? She was missing something but before she could even ask, InuYasha was grasping her free hand and squeezing it tightly. “Listen, when I told you to stay hidden, it was only because I knew I could handle that dumb-ass ogre on my own. I should have been paying more attention to you, though. You’re still learning and I—I should have protected you. I’m sorry.”

Kagome shook her head as InuYasha bowed his own. He wanted forgiveness when absolutely nothing he admitted happened to them. Kagome wriggled her hand from InuYasha’s and winced, rubbing her forehead again. “Are you real?” She nearly whispered, tears forming once more. Kagome was used to the dreams—it would be so easy for him to deny it or stumble over his words or maybe just admit that all of this was another fantasy. But when she saw the anxiety accumulating across every aspect of her half-demon’s body, Kagome had a feeling that she really was awake. “It’s just that I—“ she cut herself off. She needed to stand and maybe get fresh air or something. The world quickly spun beneath her feet but InuYasha was there, catching her and he was really there—they were really together. “Oh InuYasha,” she stated, closing her eyes and letting the tears glide past her cheeks.

InuYasha froze the moment she buried her head against his chest, but it didn’t take long for him to wrap his arms around her. “I’m supposed to be the one who’s upset,” he reminded her, hands softly stroking her hair. “You’re really starting to worry me, Kagome.” 

Kagome shook her head, lifting her dewy eyes up with a sense of relief she thought would never materialize.

InuYasha was different than she remembered and yet exactly the same. Just being around him set her at ease and she could feel some of her anxieties fade away. Kagome was safe now, but even as she calmed to sniffles, InuYasha continued running his hand up and down her back, he radiated a peace she hadn’t expected after being apart for an entire year. “How can you be so calm?” 

InuYasha’s brow twitched slightly and he raised a fist, it was almost as if Kagome unintentionally spiked his ire. All she could do was tilt her head to the side. “Because Kaede said that being upset wouldn’t help you relax. She didn’t tell me it would make you worry more,” he ground out. If InuYasha could trade a gentle reaction for an angry one within seconds, Kagome knew absolutely that she was in the Feudal Era again. 

“It’s been such a hard year without you, InuYasha, why on Earth wouldn’t I want you to feel something? Did you even miss me?”

“The hell are you talking about, Kagome?”

Well, it was good to know that InuYasha could still unintentionally spark her ire, too. “My life has been absolutely miserable without you!” She blurted out, pressing an accusatory finger against his chest. “Do you have any idea how difficult things have been for me? And now you’re just standing here like... like you haven’t even thought about me on—“ Kagome groaned, her head glaringly protesting her argument.

InuYasha reached out, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “Kagome, take it easy,” he advised, and she could hear the note of concern in his voice despite how stern it was. She glared up at him. He offered her a crooked smile that quickly faded. “Wait, did you say it’s been a year since the well stopped working?”

“I mean, I think so...” Her temper fled, leaving her feeling sheepish. Maybe her memories were a little off.

InuYasha placed a finger under her chin, tilting her up to look into a storm of amber. “You were gone for three years.”

InuYasha sounded as if the news might break her and it didn’t but Kagome couldn’t hold back a slight gasp. She stepped back from him. “Three...” three whole years—she had to wait two more years to be reunited with InuYasha and her friends here? It didn’t seem plausible. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” InuYasha asked, picking Kagome up then laying her back down onto the ground. Although he was trying his best to remain calm, she could tell he was upset. 

Kagome swallowed the lump in her throat, reaching her hand out to lay against his thigh. “I just finished my first year of high school,” she confessed. “What happened to me?”

InuYasha rested his hand on her arm. “We were fighting an ogre on the outskirts of the village ‘n it threw you against the ground.”

II Chapter 2 II

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Word Prompt #10 - NSFW

Word: Honorific WIP: Thriving series CW: 18+ only, my fellow humans(?), for this is…not in any way safe for work whatsoever. Word Count: 1,922 Additional Notes: This is directly following up another WP piece of mine, Beard, and uh yeah. Also, I’m kinda glad I originally pulled this cuz I made a few minor changes to it.

***

Possibly two feet from the bedroom door was when Warren realized he was in the midst of experiencing the most difficult anticipatory moments of his life, and he glanced from his bags in Thrive’s arms up to the beautiful beard growth over the sharp angles of his jaw, the silver pin keeping the small bun of hair in place, and wanted so badly to knock the luggage out of his clutches and throw himself at him right in the middle of the hallway.

Thrive, however, had slightly different plans. He allowed Warren into the bedroom first, kicked the door closed behind him, and set the bags on the floor at his feet. Then from all but nowhere shot his hand to grab Warren’s throat and shove him back into the wall with barely restrained effort.

“Oh, fuck,” Warren managed to gasp before Thrive silenced him by claiming his mouth, the urgency of their kiss very apparent right off the bat. Warren pulled him closer by the hips, slid his hands up his back, clutched him around the ribs, weak in the knees from letting Thrive run his tongue over his bottom lip while simultaneously giving his mind permission to curl around his psyche, to return home where it was familiar and warm.

Warren reached up to remove the pin holding Thrive’s hair together, and he couldn’t even pull away to get a look at it as he was too busy reeling from the thigh that had made its way between his legs and the fingers creeping their way into his hair. Somewhat luckily, their mental connection allowed him to foresee it when Thrive decided to grip his mahogany locks and tug his head to the side, grazing his teeth over his throat and inhaling deeply.

“Hmm,” he murmured, and Warren could feel his husky timbre vibrating in his sternum. Thrive pressed his mouth to Warren’s ear. “This smell is unfamiliar.”

Heat roiled in Warren’s stomach and all of the blood in his head made a quick and terrible nosedive in the complete opposite direction. “This smell is possibly a whole month of being in the wilds of Logoryt.”

“We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?” Thrive said, his voice barely a whisper as he deftly moved down the succession of Warren’s shirt buttons with one hand. “You and I both know the only scent that should be on your skin is mine.”

He’d growled the last word and Warren’s knees nearly buckled, though the thigh between his legs did a good job keeping him upright. “This is…probably the most functionally deficient I’ve ever been in my life—”

Thrive kissed him again, his beard barely scratching against his face, and it only became clear that he’d finished unbuttoning Warren’s red and gray flannel when his fingers found the strained zipper of his jeans and he dusted his knuckles across the swollen shape.

Warren, who’d been touch-starved for about an entire year, quickly pressed Thrive’s hand to himself and kept him still, biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “Ah…careful. I’m a bad gust of wind away from ending this whole thing.”

Thrive’s eyes glittered with a thought. “Is that so….”

Warren didn’t even have the chance to confirm before Thrive sank to his knees, popping his jeans open and releasing him in one fluid movement. He curled an arm around the underside of Warren’s thigh and pinned him against the wall.

“Hey, now, wait a minute, wasn’t I supposed to be the one—OH! My fucking god—” Warren’s head smacked the wall upon Thrive’s mouth enveloping him, and it was all he could do not to buck forward, though that proved moot once Thrive’s other hand gripped his hip to keep him still. “Yeah, shit, I can't—”

“You can,” Thrive said against him, tightly squeezing him and inciting an inconsequential amount of pain to keep him in check. “And you will.”

Warren took a few deep breaths through his nose, his legs already shaking. “I’m gonna die here and it’s your fault.”

Thrive slid his hand up Warren’s stomach and stroked him slowly, angling a crooked grin in his direction. “What a way to go.”

Warren ran his fingers through Thrive’s chin-length hair and cradled the back of his head well into finding himself back in his mouth, screwing his eyes shut and simultaneously enjoying the sensations and doing his absolute best to keep himself going for just a little longer.

“Okay,” he panted, cupping Thrive’s face as a warning. “Okay, okay, okay….”

Thrive pulled back, but instead of stopping, he continued to stroke him, watching him intently. He used his other hand to flip his hair to one side and made direct eye-contact with Warren. “I don’t think you realize who’s in charge this morning.”

With a loud groan and a sharp cant of his hips, Warren writhed against the wall, full-body shivers overwhelming him and practically uprooting him as Thrive encouraged everything out of him. His limbs turned to jelly and he didn’t notice Thrive had begun to remove his jeans for him altogether.

“God,” Warren said forcefully. “I think I gotta leave home more often….”

Thrive stood. “Bed.”

Blinking away his lightheadedness, Warren glanced at him. “I dunno if I can walk, babe.”

Thrive curled his fingers around him again, causing him to inhale sharply and hiss through clenched teeth. “…You will address me by my honorific.”

Warren groaned again. “Mm…sorry…Your Majesty.”

“Get on the bed.”

He sat on the edge, watching Thrive carefully remove his cape and peel off the few layers of his robes and flushing a deep crimson when his hair caught the light of the sun through the window.

“On your stomach,” Thrive ordered.

Warren shivered again, doing as instructed. “Wanna get this thing out of the way?” he asked, tugging the collar of his shirt.

Thrive rummaged around the drawers of Warren’s dresser. “No.”

The fabric of his bedspread made Warren’s sensitive skin tingle. “I gotta say this is kinda hitting on a fantasy of mine,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve spent years daydreaming about you, uh, dominating me and….” He scratched his temple. “The choking thing was really doin’ it for me.”

“The idea of me breaking you in half arouses you?”

“Fuck yes,” Warren laughed. “Yeah, exactly. The fact that you could is like…combined with the fact that you’re super smart is just….”

Thrive had meandered back over to the bed. “Talk more of what turns you on about me.”

“So many things,” Warren said, fully aware of the snap of a bottle opening and the scent of synthetic peach filling the air, and his gut tightened in response to the bed sinking beneath his knees. “Your eyes are so gorgeous, the way you talk to me sometimes is so hot, and your body….” He dropped his head to the mattress when he felt a hand at the small of his back. “…Is incredible.”

“This is not my body, Warren,” Thrive murmured.

Warren clutched the bedspread with tight fists as Thrive’s coated fingers found their target and sent a wave of electricity through him. “Yeah…yeah, I know that….”

“If I were to become natural at this very moment, would you still feel as unraveled and vulnerable as you do now?”

Warren couldn’t hold back the laugh that burst forth from him again. “If you became natural right now while you’re doing what you’re doing I would actually explode without further prompting.”

There was a curious pause from Thrive as he continued to touch Warren, hot palm caressing his back and the curve of his backside as his other hand prepped him. “…That is good to know.”

Warren’s grip on the bedspread only tightened when Thrive pulled him back by the hem of his shirt, then his hips and sheathed himself within him. “Ah, god….”

“Up,” Thrive grunted, and with his help Warren pushed himself upward so Thrive could wrap an arm around his midsection and hold him tight to his chest, finding a pace that drew the most sounds out of him. He tugged on Warren’s earlobe with his teeth. “Right…I’m not letting you out of this house again.”

Warren’s head dropped back onto a broad shoulder, his emotions swirling together with Thrive’s. “I…can’t see myself arguing with that at the moment….”

The sun eventually reached its peak in the sky and Thrive flipped Warren onto his back, his hand once again tight but safe around his throat, and Warren hooked his legs around Thrive’s waist for leverage, and between all of that and the fact that they were in full view of anyone who happened to fly by the window at that time—

“Oh, fuck, Thrive,” Warren groaned, overwhelmed with heat and the rise of pleasure in their mental connection.

“Say it,” Thrive growled.

“Your Majesty—!”

Thrive arched himself over Warren and threw a dark leg over his shoulder, rolling his hips into him a few times before Warren couldn’t contain himself any more and let go, pulling Thrive’s face down to kiss him hard and dig his nails into the flesh of his back, releasing cries of ecstasy that he was suddenly glad no one else was in the house to hear.

Slowing to a stop, Thrive smoothed Warren’s hair down on his head and instantly collapsed beside him, holding him in his arms as Warren came down from his euphoric state.

“Holy shit,” Warren panted, throwing an arm over his face to hide the tears streaming down the sides of his head. “That was so fucking amazing….”

Thrive stroked the side of his face. “You’re alright?”

“I’m shaking….” Warren held his hands up to look at them and chuckled. “God, yeah, I’m great.”

“Was it too much for you?”

“No. No…no, you could’ve even pushed harder, to be honest.”

“I worry about hurting you.”

Warren turned his head to look Thrive in the eye, a bit taken aback. His chest heaved with his efforts to catch his breath. “I mean, everyone’s got a limit, but…a little pain isn’t too bad. Is it?”

Thrive linked his and Warren’s hands together and brought his knuckles up to his lips. “As long as you’re fine with what transpired here.”

“Are you?”

“Truthfully, I only had you in mind.” Thrive shook his head to keep his hair out of his face, and he smiled when Warren raked his nails through his beard. “I only ever have you in mind.”

He dropped his head low to meet Warren in another kiss.

“Damn,” Warren whispered. “I’m so glad to be home.”

“Well,” Thrive replied, “I very slightly meant what I said about keeping you here. It’s always a ruin to contentment without you at my side at all times.”

They lay in quiet for a moment, gazing into each other, and Warren held his face in his hands.

“Let’s do this again,” he murmured. “But keep looking at me just like that.”

Thrive obliged him, and they spent the rest of the day in bed, making up for lost time, until Warren had nothing left within him to spend, and the start of the sunset called for a long nap in each others’ arms with the view of the three moons of Tournaltis curving across the sky and the waking desert lights bobbing over the distant shore.

“Love you, Your Majesty,” Warren mumbled sleepily beneath Thrive’s jaw.

Thrive tucked a hand comfortably into the waistband of Warren’s sweatpants at the small of his back. “Love you as well, Your Highness.”

Warren smiled against his skin.

***

NSFW tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @pertinax--loculos @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @biscottibitch @drabbleitout  @holidaysong

[lostinfic]

hello! was curious: you always write abt hannah and alec post-sdoacg or mid-broadchurch. how much chaos do you think there’d be if alec was more present in her life *during* sdoacg?

Hi! I’m not sure what you mean by chaos, but the ficlets I’ve written that are set during SDOACG tend to be angsty, so that gives you an idea.

If we’re going with my “they’ve been friends since before she became an escort” headcanon, I think there would be a lot of tension between them. Hannah wants Alec, but he’s married. Although Alec doesn’t admit it to himself, the woman he loves is sleeping with half of London and picking up shitty boyfriends along the way.

On the other hand, she definitely could have used someone stable and reliable like Hardy. And he could have used an escape from his work. So I imagine there would be a lot of arguments, but also a lot of late night phone calls just to talk, and some showing up unannounced to vent and laugh and feel safe with each other.

▹ Excerpt from a WIP set during SDOACG and before Broadchurch:

[It’s Hardy’s birthday party. Hannah is surprised Tess invited her, she goes with her boyfriend, Alex. During the party, Alex receives a call from the hospital and has to go back to work. Later, Hardy offers to drive Hannah home. They’re alone in the car on the way to London.]

Suddenly, Hannah straightens up on her seat. “Oh fuck! I forgot your gift.”

“Don’t,” Hardy says.

“Don’t what?”

“You’re gonna say something about a blow job and I don’t want to hear it.”

She laughs. “Who’s got a dirty mind now? I have such a good influence on you. And I wasn’t going to say that, but now I want to.”

“Shut up.”

“Is Tess going to do that for you tonight, then? For once.”

“Dunno.”

“Right, if you knew you wouldn’t have offered to drive me home. You’d have stayed home and kicked everyone out.” She pokes her toes into the side of his thigh. “I would blow you and not just on your birthday.”

“You already do it all the time, what’s one more man?” Hardy replies.

“Knob.” She laughs and slaps him on the arm. “Does it bother you, how many penises have been in my mouth?”

She likes to shock him, test him.

“… I don’t like thinking about it. It’s not disgust, it’s… I don’t like thinking about it.”

“Well, my dentist has never complained.”

“About putting his penis in your mouth?”

“No! About— I’ve got great oral hygiene is what I’m saying. It’s not disgusting.”

“Right.” He slows the car to catch the exit lane. “If memory serves you weren’t that good at it anyway,” Hardy says, a smirk betraying his tone.

“What?! You did not just say that. Take it back,” Hannah cries.

He shrugs. “Meh.”

“Shut up! You used to come so fast.”

“I didnae!”

“Besides, I haven’t sucked you in, what?, five years? I’ve learned a lot. You wouldn’t last a second.”

“That a challenge?”

They laugh, but this time it’s uneasy. The conversation dies down as Hardy focuses on navigating London traffic.

The car slows in front of her building. She looks up, there’s a light on in her flat-- Alex probably. She doesn’t get out.

“You live together?” Hardy asks, his voice rising slightly. “It’s serious.”

“Yeah.”

She doesn’t say more, she wants to see his reaction, his jealousy. She thinks his fists are clenching around the steering wheel, but she can’t be sure.

“No, we don’t,” Hannah relents. “He’s got a key, but it’s not like that. He did me a favour, let the plumber in when I couldn’t be there, and I don’t know how to ask him to give it back to me.”

The engine’s still turning. Rain spatters across the windshield. Alec’s doing that thing with his jaw when he’s not saying what he’s thinking.

“Does he know about your job?” he asks at last.

“Hmmm….”

“You haven’t told him. Hannah!”

“I know, I know, I’m waiting for the right moment.”

She slouches in the seat and bites her thumbnail.

Hardy scoffs at that.

“I’m slacking off though,” she adds.

“How do you mean?”

“I’ve been seeing fewer clients… I just don’t feel like it.”

“Oh, so you’d quit for him?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it.”

“You never like any of my boyfriends,” her voice rises.

“You never love any of your boyfriends.”

“Well, maybe this time it’s different.”

“He… he doesn’t even know you!”

“Christ, you’re worse than Ben.”

“Don’t get me started on him.”

Despite herself, Hannah laughs. Hardy’s serious dimples disappear, and he cracks a smile too.

“You can’t keep me for yourself, Alec,” she says softly.

“I don’t want you to get your heart broken again.”

Hannah glances out the car window again, at the illuminated living room where her boyfriend is waiting.

She rests her head on Hardy’s shoulder. “Keep driving.”