#i maintain that writing fic about shows that i have problems with is so much more fun than writing fic about shows that i think are

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

not to do the "watch this space" thing but i'm so deeply excited about my s2 Picard Seven/Raffi fic, y'all have no idea what's in store.

[wyyvernn]

A/n: WOOOOO this one was 👀😳 I wanted to write more smut about him as an extremely horny older gent.

✧･ﾟ: Masterlist :･ﾟ✧

✧Cw: All characters 18+, Older Man/Younger Woman, Mentor/Student Dynamic, Smut - don't like, don't read

✧Tags: @psybrepunk @sangheilihoes @demigoddessqueens @bookworm-with-coffee @ladysaturnsdust @haytham-loves-chocolate @memoriesofafallen @bloodhaven99 @heiress-prime @konnisart

✧ If you would also like to be tagged in future Haytham fics, let me know in the comments!

Irritable. Completely and irrationally irritable.

The Grand Master was always in control of his emotions, but bless the poor soul who suffered the receiving end of his ire.

There was something about him you sensed differently today and you could pick up on his change of mood whenever he passed by, his cape angrily sweeping your calves and leaving you staring at his retreating form in silence.

Hurried footsteps, clenched fists, and teeth-grinding glares sent your way all throughout the afternoon have you wildly confused.

Did you do something wrong recently? You were keeping up well with the missions your mentor sent you on so it couldn't be a problem with that. And it definitely couldn't be your attitude either.

Haytham regarded you with much respect even if he didn't explicitly show it. It was conveyed in his mannerisms - the way he nodded in satisfaction of your efforts, or when he gave the slightest curve of his lips when you made things go the way that he wanted them to. Those nice little moments made your day.

Except this wasn't one of those nice little moments, and when you greeted your mentor with a smile like usual, you didn't expect to be flat out shunned and shouldered past.

A huff exhaled from your lips and it leaves you loathing how you sound like a petulant child.

It's late in the evening when you see him again in his office. And he's hunched over the desk, dressed in a casual yet elegant fit, his hat, cape and coat no doubt hung up on a hanger somewhere. He pours no small amount of detail in his journal with a frustrated grip on his quill, and a heavy frown fixed on his brow.

It's what you expect him to be doing at these late sort of hours.

What you don't expect is to be held in place by the brewing storm of his glare as he looks up from his journal, and in the next moment, shoved up against the wall with little to no resistance, and his lips and tongue hungering for your own like a man starved for days.

His hands, worn and toned from decades of climbing and fighting, spare you no mercy as they grip your waist like a vice and keep you firmly put.

"Terrible girl." He groans, and his voice is low and rough with need as his teeth print marks up your neck, sucking your supple skin into his skilled mouth, "Having your Grand Master ache for you like this - does it thrill you to see him so tortured?"

"So plagued with lewd thoughts of you?" is what he goes to add but he's interrupted by a yelp when he delivers a sharp nip to your throat, soothing it immediately with a slow drag of his tongue.

Your lips part for a reply, a plea for your innocence of the situation, but his are unforgiving as they descend down on yours again, swallowing your protests.

You really have no idea what he's on about, but you suspect that it has to do with the way he's been pining for you these last couple of weeks. The sight of you in his mind has tested his control - scandalous images of your bare body beneath him, above him, on him - all threatening to break that gentleman composure of his that he's supposedly so good at maintaining.

But you're not going to leave your Grand Master disappointed and his fantasies unfulfilled.

You mirror his lust, hands climbing up his chest to pick and pull at the cravat and toss it messily behind you only to begin shedding his cape and navy coat half way down his shoulders before you can get to unbuttoning his red vest and shirt beneath it all.

You pause when you get down to the last button, and instead decide to tease him by sliding your knee in between his thighs, and watch in riveting excitement, as his hips roll forward, a low guttural purr rumbling from his throat and spilling past your mouth.

He pulls away suddenly and then hastens to shove your skirts up your thighs, the desperation reflective in his swift, hurried movements. You help him free of his trousers but he stops suddenly, delaying his desire to plunge into you as the prominent curve of his nose caresses along your jawline and nears the shell of your ear.

"Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me." He whispers harshly in your ear, and a delightful shiver chills down your spine.

An eager nod is all you deliver him, your eyes begging your mentor to just grab you and fuck you good and proper against the wall.

"I want you. Gods, please, I've always wanted you, sir I-"

A sharp gasp cuts you short as his cock sinks past your folds, your leg hooking around his hip and the other struggling to balance as he pushes you into the wall.

You cry out softly and you bury your face in his exposed shoulder to muffle your moans, silently cursing him in your mind when he snaps forward once, and then again and again until your teeth are clamping down on his shoulder.

He speeds up his pace in response, grunting at the pain of your teeth and pleasure of your slick, inviting warmth, of how your cunt just stretches for him while he pounds away like he's mad, like he's possessed or hungry. And his grip doesn't let up either. Toughened skin of his knuckles turn white as they rudely grab at the neckline of your dress and tear down the middle of your cleavage to get to your breasts.

"How perfect you are." He praises, groping your skin.

His lips attach to your nipples right away, the sharp and quick strikes of his tongue lapping at them send pleasurable jolts through your body and all the way down to your core. And then it all feels so sudden when his front teeth are scraping your little buds, alternating between the two and making you cling to him desperately, wrapping your arms around his neck and arching your chest into his mouth as your moans become louder. The stimulation is becoming too much now, all that tension building up in your muscles.

You can't even think, can't even form a proper sentence. And then suddenly when he picks you up by the back of your thighs and changes the angle, his cock hits a deeper part within you that makes you whine and babble mindlessly.

"Oh my... gods...!" A gasp rips from your throat from the unexpected change.

A groan passes through clenched teeth, the loudest you've heard from him. He can hear your heavy panting and how it mixes with his own, he can feel your tight walls gripping him as his pace begins to speed up. He's close. And he can feel you clinging to him, your nails clawing at his crumpled coat, vest and shirt down his torso to dig them hard into his back muscles. You're close as well, but he knows you need more to feel satisfied.

To finish you off, his hand reaches in between your bodies and furiously rubs his finger on your clit. The rough pad of it further adds to the stimulation, pulling a muffled scream from your lips as you bury your face in his shoulder and grind against his hand and cock, simultaneously.

You feel it finally, crying out a final time as your orgasm comes crashing down on you, and he lets you down gently.

There's a few more slow thrusts from Haytham until he pulls out, his hand performing sharp and rapid strokes on his cock while he grunts and pants. Although he's interrupted when you boldly wave his hand away and do it for him, leaning up a little to press your lips against his.

He kisses you back harder and pushes his hips into your grip, thankful for your welcome aid as he huffs and then spills into your palm, crushing your body against his with one last groan of pleasure.

The both of you stayed there, just enjoying each other's company in the air of peace you shared.

Eventually, you broke the silence.

"I'll go clean myself up. I'll report to you first thing in the morning, sir."

Your body breaks away from his, but you don't even make a full step away before he tugs you back by your arm. He seemed almost disappointed by your dismissive response, like he didn't just take you in his office long past bedtime hours.

"Join me. I'll have someone draw us a bath." He insisted, curling his arms back around your waist, his lips lifting into a slight smirk when he noticed your tiny gasp.

"And then..." He murmured, the deep grey of his eyes dripping with sensuality as he grazed his mouth over the shell of your ear, "We'll see about more of these little trysts, hm?"

Oh, he wanted more. He absolutely wanted more from you.

And who were you, his obedient little student, to deny him?

[just--a-lurker]

what the dog doin

Dog hybrid!Leon S. Kennedy x fem K9 handler!reader

Total words: 3.6k

One of the hybrids at your new job causes a lot more trouble for you than you can ever imagine.

warnings: !!18+!! !!MDNI!! noncon/rape, biting, violence, gore, gun mention, breeding kink, somnophilia, knotting, public sex, hybrids, bestiality-ish (hybrids not considered as people despite them being mostly human), Leon is sort of yandere in this

a/n: this is technically my first fic (💀) so it’s a bit rough, and anything in this that makes you go “huh that actually isn’t that bad” is probably thanks to this getting a read-over + suggestions by the much more talented @noowayybroo​ who also writes great fics that are infinitely better than this one (they’re actually good, go read them!!)  I picture re2 leon with this but it doesn’t really matter. title is because i can’t title things and it’s funny to me (i am dying of irony poisoning). formatting on tumblr is terrible what the hell

You are hired as the new K9 handler at the local police station. When you arrive for your first day, the chief brings you to the kennels and introduces you to the dogs that you'll be training while you're here. You’re a bit nervous, this job being the first time you really get to test your skills, but you try your best to not let your apprehension show.

You come face-to-face with a group of stern-faced dogboys, who are obediently sitting, waiting for your commands. Well, most of them are. They seem to have lined up by seniority, and despite your view of the dogs later in the line being blocked by some of the bigger dogs, a light-colored dog at the very end catches your attention with all of his movement. Approaching the smallest dog at the end of the line causes him to become overexcited, jumping up to try and touch you. 

K9 recruit Kennedy, or Leon, according to the engraving his basic collar had, enthusiastically greets you by standing up and licking your cheek. His long, fluffy tail wags excitedly as he starts to... bounce? Out of happiness. He manages to stand still for just a few moments so he can say something to you, but you can tell it’s taking all of his effort to stop moving.

"It's so nice to meet you! Hi! I'm Leon! I love you!"

You’re amused by the pup’s declaration, and scratch behind his ears when he bows his head to you. You find his mannerisms charming, if a bit out of place, and you wonder if he knows he’ll be completely still and calm like the other dogs after you train him.  The chief states that officer Kennedy is the newest and youngest of the group, and he arrived after the old handler left, so he hasn't had any training at all. 

"He's eager but a bit of a troublemaker. Shouldn't be a problem for you though, of course." The chief laughs, patting you on your shoulder before leaving you to your devices with the dogs. 

You go through exercises with the entire pack, pleased to see that most of them were already well-trained and would just need practice to maintain that training. You give extra attention to Leon, who is indeed eager to follow your orders, but seems constantly distracted. He has lots of energy and seems to prefer pets and scratches behind his fluffy ears to any kind of treat. He seems to be getting along well with the other dogboys, but after a week of you being there, something about Leon changed.

He was still the overexcited puppy you knew him as, but he was a lot more distracted than normal. You catch Leon staring at you with a dopey look on his face, responding to nothing until you gently pat him on his head or he sees you interact with another dog. Leon doesn’t like this, getting into fights with whichever dogboy you seemed to favor over him, who much to the other dog’s credit, shrugs Leon off and ignores him. He constantly takes your items and hides them, his favorite item being the keys to the kennel, which he hides in what you feel like infinite amounts of obscure spots around the room. Whatever the item is, you end up being stuck in there for an extra hour until you find them. Any discipline you dish out is met with that same, stupid smile, and you watched his tail thump on the ground happily, even when you called him a "bad dog". All of this was starting to get to you, but you figured that you can eventually train him out of it. After all, he's still new, and maybe he's still adjusting to having to interact with you. At least, this is what you would have thought if he weren't getting more... physical with you.

Constantly following you around, even after you dismiss him so you can train the other dogs, he curls around your feet and bites down on your clothes to stop you from walking away from him. He shoves his face into your crotch, forcing you to push him away roughly. He takes the opportunity to lick at your groin if you take too long to push him away, and as your reaction to the sudden shock of wetness and warmth quickened, the more often he would try to press himself there. You eventually place him in a crate while you are working in the kennel as you can’t do anything productive without him tripping you up.

Leon isn’t too happy about this, and howls loudly the entire time, forcing you to muzzle him in order to prevent noise complaints from your coworkers. The muzzle only stays on until he quiets down and promises to behave, but it wouldn't even be 5 minutes before he misbehaves again, and you feel his tongue on your clothed ass. All you can do is sigh in disappointment and drag a whimpering Leon back into his crate. You would think that being publicly humiliated in front of the other dogs would act as a deterrent, but it was as if Leon didn't care at all for their thoughts.

It isn’t just his behavior that is strange. You feel embarrassed to even notice this, but he sports an almost constant hard-on, which was laughed off at the vet as "just something that dogs have sometimes, it'll go away soon." but you're glad to know that he has a clean bill of health otherwise. You're not sure why he's so naughty lately -- you wish that there would be at least some paperwork regarding his history before he came to the precinct --but it's as if they picked him directly off of the street. You're worried that his behavior is due to hormonal reasons, and if it gets any worse it can only be fixed by, well, fixing him.

You spend more time training the pack, with Leon showing some progress whenever he isn’t trying to press himself on you. You really hope that his problems won't crop up in more serious situations, and you pray to whatever higher power is out there that he isn’t called to a scene anytime soon. Of course, when all the other dogs were unavailable, you are called to bring a dog over to investigate a crime scene. You walk towards the officers already present with Leon in tow, trying to keep him at an appropriate distance. Leon is overjoyed to finally reach the site and hugs your leg after you stop in front of the two officers. You harshly pull at his collar when you feel him trying to subtly grind on your shoe, giving him a stern look. The other officers smile at you and pet Leon’s head, which thankfully makes him stop humping you.

While you're getting briefed, a shot nearby briefly deafens you as one of your fellow officers collapses, head burst on the pavement. You try to grab Leon to duck somewhere safely while you figure out who is shooting at you, but Leon seems to have gotten spooked or got lost in the chaos, as he is nowhere in sight. You can only wish that whoever was firing at you will take pity on the poor pup. You peek out from your cover to try and get more information, but you’re shoved unceremoniously on the ground as one of the instigators hits your kneecaps with the butt of their gun, before pointing the nozzle at your head.

"Not even an actual cop, just the dumb dog-fucker." They sneer, before hitting you with the gun again, this time a hard butt to your jaw.

"Guess you weren't a good bitch for him if he completely abandoned you like this."

You're completely discombobulated from the assault and you close your eyes to stop the light from making the agonizing pain in your head worse. You tear up from the sting of pain and your failure, and you can only sniffle as the gunman starts to pull the trigger.

A loud growl comes from behind your attacker, and a blur of fluffy blond tail and sun-kissed skin leaps at the assaulter. Their gun is knocked out of their hands, and you only belatedly realize that the liquid leaving their throat is their blood gushing out by the pint. You're still in shock, but the gruesome sight brings you to some of your senses and you quickly realize that Leon is going to kill that person if he doesn’t stop now. You order Leon to let go, as the assailant is definitely not going to be able to hurt anything for quite a while, but to your dismay Leon does not immediately follow your order. Leon looks directly at you, crunching down hard one last time, before trotting up to you with a wide smile that would be otherwise cute if blood and sinew wasn't smeared all over his face. His fluffy tail wagged happily, and he looked imploringly at you for a treat. 

"I did good! I protected my mate!"

You ignore his second statement, and look at Leon with apprehension. You have a fleeting thought about petting him just in case he decides to turn that aggression towards you - but your rational brain takes over and you don't want to reward him for a near-fatal mauling, and you’re kind of confident that he wouldn’t attack you at the moment. You make sure the coast is clear before quickly turning around (and holding yourself back from comforting Leon after he lets out the most pitiful whine) and call for medical attention for the unfortunate person. As the EMT whisks them away, and feeling more secure with other people around you, you scold Leon. You bring him to the drying pool of blood and make him look at it.

"Bad boy!" A light smack on his cheek.

"Listen to me when I tell you to let go!" A rougher smack on his left arm, of which he was trying to wrap around you.

"No more treats for the next month!" You force his neck to turn towards you, and are pained by his teary-eyed expression.

"But I protected you! I was good!"

"Good boys do exactly what I say."

"But-"

You push him to the ground and start walking back to the station, giving very little slack to the leash. You try to ignore his small whines of, "but I was being a good mate."

After writing your report about the entire incident, you were given a special assignment. Leon's behavior was found unacceptable by both you and your bosses, so he needed intensive training outside of work hours, or he’ll be put down. You thought that was a harsh punishment – shouldn’t they at least try to neuter him first? – but you shudder at the thought of Leon attacking some poor vet tech as savagely as he did that gunman. You were still upset at him, but you thought he still had potential, so you decided to take him to your house. You reason that Leon needs some time with you alone so he'd get his fill of your presence and maybe he'll start to act right. You set up a little dog bed for him on the ground, but he pouts and tearfully exclaims, 

"I don't want to sleep on the ground! Too cold, not near you!"

You figure that he was just nervous, and the way his ears dropped tugged at your heartstrings, so you let him sleep with you for a few days to make him comfortable.

Big mistake.

Leon refuses to bathe and insists on rolling around in your bed. He drools all over the sheets and you think he's trying to mark the bed with other bodily fluids as well, the sheets smelling foul at the end of the day. You eventually get him in the tub, but he throws a fit and never lets go of your hands the entire time, splashing water everywhere with his tail out of excitement… or spite. To top it off he gets moodier whenever you need to wash your bedsheets due to whatever it was that Leon was doing to them. 

It can and does get worse; you wake up some nights to Leon humping your leg, whimpering and drooling as he desperately seeks his release. You, waking up from some of the deepest rests of your life (Leon, despite being a nuisance, is very warm, and that was apparently all you needed for your mild insomnia to be fixed) can only muster the energy to be mildly annoyed by this, and give him a kick to make him stop. He does, and curls up in shame afterwards, but only for a little while, before he's right back to it.

Outside of your sleeping arrangement, Leon continues to be a menace. He makes a complete mess of the house, with him being clever enough to escape the crate (but not clever enough to not brag about it to you, telling you how much of a "smart mate" he is) and you think he's been taking your unwashed laundry and storing it somewhere you can't find it. You're wearing your last pieces of clean clothes before you finally find the pile behind an unused crawl space underneath the stairs, with the clothes feeling very... crusty. You confront Leon about this, but he only tilts his head and pants, the movement drawing your attention to his disgustingly hard (and slimy? Ugh, you shouldn't look too close at it) cock twitching whenever you speak to him. 

Leon continues to act strangely, and you're worried that he might be sick. While you're scheduling another appointment to the vet, Leon suddenly hugs you from behind and nuzzles your neck. You're about to harshly reprimand him before he asks you to take him for a walk at his favorite park.

"Please! Please! I'll be good if you take me! Please!"

You feel bad for him, knowing that going to the vet is an unpleasant experience for any dogboy, and you tell him that you'll take him to the park the morning of the appointment, but only if he lets you go right now. He reluctantly obliges, and you're finally able to make the actual appointment.

"C'mon boy, what's the matter?" You tug on his leash gently to get him to move, but he lets out a growl. 

The day comes, and it starts off like any normal day –well, as normal as it can be with Leon living with you. You wake up, noting no disruptions at night, but Leon was already at his food bowl jumping around. When you go to fill it, he has a concerning gleam in his eyes that you at first think is a sign of his illness getting worse. You felt bad about everything that Leon went through lately and decided to take him on a walk immediately after he's done eating, as whatever you have to do can wait.

You put the leash on his collar (and you think you hear a faint growl but chalk it up to it being early and you being groggy) and make your way to the park. It's beautiful outside, and you opted for light-weight clothing. The park was mostly empty as it was very early in the morning, and besides Leon barking at the occasional jogger that passed by, everything was going smoothly. You’re enjoying yourself, happy to have a pleasant experience with Leon for once. You think Leon is also enjoying it, but you seem to have misjudged him – when the two of you reach the very end of the park trail, he stops moving and stands very still.

He asks, "Why don't you love me? I’m a good mate!" You freeze, never having had Leon growl at you before. You approach him cautiously and crouch down to him at his eye-level. 

"Leon, of course I love you, you're just a little bit sick okay? After we go to the vet I'll bring you lots of treats and cuddles." You gently pat his head, noting the way his ears seem to be stuck stiffly upright. You give him a kiss on his cheek before turning around and walking back towards the entrance of the park. The leash is almost jerked out of your hands as Leon moves the other way. 

"Baby, what's wrong with you today? You asked to come here!" You approach Leon hoping he would give some sort of response, but as you stand a few feet away you only see Leon staring intensely at you. The look in his eyes was worrying you, only seeing him gawk at something like this when he was about to eat.

"Leon. Come on. We can't stay here all day." You walk away from Leon, but you don't get too far. Suddenly, he sprints towards you and jumps on your back, the force pushing you on your knees.

You let out a startled yelp as Leon cages you with his arms, the leash knocked out of your hands. His weight keeps you down on the grass, and you can feel his muscles working to keep you down through your thin shirt. You order him to get off of you, but he snarls and bites down hard on your shoulder. Muffled by your shoulder skin, you feel more than hear him say, "Need to show you that you're my mate. Mine, mine, mine-"

Somewhere between the throbs of pain coming from the bite, the vibrations of his groans, and the feel of the dry grass on your hands, you feel Leon's cock sliding over your crotch.

"Stay. Mate." He rumbles out after licking the wound on your shoulder a few times. He sits up on his haunches to remove your pants and underwear, your kicks at him pitiful as your legs were effortlessly held in place. Once those were out of the way, you can feel his hot breath directly hitting your exposed cunt. You feel your face heating up from embarrassed horror as he buries his nose into it. A smothered moan leaves him, the vibrations causing you to moan as well. Leon rubs his face into your bare crotch, slick soaking his face, your moans spurring him on. After he had his fill of your scent, he aggressively laps at your cunt, his wide tongue able to cup the entirety of your vulva. He pulls his head away for a brief moment, staring at your pussy in awe.

“So good. Just as I thought…”

He stuffs his tongue deep into your opening and swirls his tongue around, the wet appendage making you shiver disgracefully from the pressure. The taste was making his cock jump and drool precum from arousal. One hand gripped your hip, leaving several scratches from his claws. The other hand was moved to your clit and rubbed harshly, and the combination from the pleasure of his tongue and the pain from his sharp nails teasing your clit causes you to orgasm shamefully fast. Any fight you have leaves you as your brain completely blanks out.

Leon laps up your fluids as you shake. After a few more licks that he savored, he moves back up to your neck. He licks a stripe from your bite wound to your nose. You grind on his crotch, which encourages him to line his painfully aroused cock at your entrance. You reach around and help guide the tip into you, and Leon slides right in. You let out a squeak as Leon immediately sets a fast and rough pace. The slaps of his thighs on your ass sounding incredibly lewd in contrast to the otherwise peacefully quiet park. Leon's cock reached deep inside of you, and the unique texture only enhanced your arousal. The tip of his tapered cock lightly tapped your cervix every time he shallowly thrusted into you, and your painfully clenching uterus causes your cunt to squeeze around Leon. The pain is too much, black spots filling your vision. Before you can pass out, you reach your second orgasm, and your spasming walls massage Leon's cock as he pistons in and out of you. The orgasm only delays your inevitable fainting spell, making you hypersensitive to every movement of Leon's body. Soon you feel something thick getting caught at your entrance with Leon's frantic thrusts. You're only faintly aware of what was about to happen, finally realizing what it was as Leon mutters about breeding you full of his pups. It's as if your head was dunked in a bucket of ice water, and you try to push Leon off of you with your trembling legs.

"L-Leon no! Don't knot me! Bad dog!" Your pleas are met with a growl and Leon pulling you back into him. What feels like a baseball stretches you open painfully, and you feel blistering hot fluid deep in your nether regions, each load making your pussy throb. Leon settles down and gives small, happy licks on your face, removing your tears. He maneuvers you and himself into a more comfortable position, and between his groans you can almost make out his praises for you for taking his knot so well.

You and Leon lay there on the park grounds in this compromising position, and had the knot not been pressing and pulsing directly on your g-spot you perhaps would've cared more about being naked from the waist-down with a dog stuck inside of you for who-knows-how long, and the amount of blood you are losing from the cuts (now more like lacerations) would likely need a medical professional to stitch then up. You suddenly feel exhausted, and Leon's warmth surrounding you inside and out allows you to finally pass out on the grass. You’re still asleep by the time Leon pops his knot out and admires your gaping cunt, before dragging you into the forest that is bordering the park's edge.

Guess you won't be making that vet appointment today.

[banyanas]

Okay there is no Way this is gonna fit in the fic wordcount limit (and a lot of it is background understanding to all my other fics too lmao) so who wants to talk about fiddly somewhat mundane toad-centric worldbuilding in regards to Imperial Amphibia -> Caste System Implementation time period??? And even if you don't want to I'm showing it to you anyway.

The 4 tower lords (Cardinal Lords used as an older title when I write) as participants and vassals to the Newtopian military is... pretty new. Especially because toad clans didn't really have a formal military in the first place (and still don't- toad army we see is an arm/branch of the overall Newtopian/specifically Leviathan-ruled Amphibian military). Previously, of course everyone paid fealty (and taxes but we will get to those) to the crown, expected to follow the laws of the united empire under the Leviathan dynasty, but toad clanheads and lords acting in a formal military position in direct vassalage to another army is... definitely new. As far as 'new' goes for a place with an implied-lengthy history as Amphibia does.

Nowadays becoming a Cardinal Lord means becoming an officer- if said lord wasn't already one in the first place. It's a more concrete requirement in the modern era, but before that, hey, remember what I said about taxes? It's relevant just stick with me a bit pls.

So, with the Me-Brand toadbuilding, toads were traditionally nomadic, and likely a more pastoralist society (tarantula cheese...). This did include very few permanent communities toad caravans cycled through, usually as a place of trade/commerce and cultural significance (specifically cairns and mass gravesites) for individual and allied clans. And from there, the majority of toads split into a bunch of much smaller semi-mobile camps that joined and split, in accordance to whatever understanding or trade agreement or alliance or rivalry their clan might have with other clans. These towns are still around despite how vastly different they are, and three of them are in the territory of a Tower- South Tower is the exception to this, since the southern toad population used to be so heavily intermixed with frogs they lived pretty equally spread inside the same township. Which oof, way to show how things change for the worst in a thousand years.

Pre-Andrias, taxes could be paid in both currency and bulk goods or productions- and they could make that work, because of the seemingly-infinite power source music box battery maintaining all their tech and infrastructure. Frequently, this was how toads paid their taxes- a bit harder to do pure currency payments, as well as y'know not rlly paying property taxes due to not privately owning much land.

(It was also, I want to note, supplemented by raiding rival or enemy clans, because they’re still a martial society- they aren’t peaceful nomads before Andrias fucked up everything, they’re violent and there’s inherent problems with gatekeeping someone from community aspects on the basis of whether or not they've killed something/own a weapon. Which we will get to the owning a weapon thing Also in a bit).

Buttttt after the box was stolen, there were a few policy changes. Taxes were required as coppers- ostensibly to bolster restructuring efforts and stabilize the economy now that the Calamity tech that was the fulcrum for their ENTIRE INFRASTRUCTURE was burglarized. Coppers which they don’t have much use for and thus don't have much circulating… yeah. But hey, specifically military service can be offered instead of coppers for taxes, at least for toads and some newts. Doesn't hurt that offering an out from taxes via military enlistment keeps toads and some newts from kicking up a very bloody, very messy fuss while the whole 'I invented speciesism and an oppressive caste system because I'm mad at my girlfriend and boyfriend' thing was being pushed through to law. Between breaking the law with all the severe risk of a nasty punishment/heavy fine that entails, or military service with some Perks of Power for an already highly combative culture? Yeah, no-brainer for why we barely see any non-military toads on screen. (This entire thing is a pretty damn slick move when it comes to enforcing ranks and systems. And admittedly less hamfisted than what we see in modern canon because frankly I think Andrias stopped caring about being careful with his enforcement of it once it became more self-sustaining)

The very messy, very bloody messes did happen, btw. After the last rebellion early into Andrias's reign (mostly made up of toads and frogs working together. Man this just makes it even more depressing to see the state of things in modern eras), only toads that were either in training, currently enlisted, or veterans were allowed to own and carry weapons. Which, beyond the practical problems of 'Amphibia is a dangerous place with lots of things that want to kill, eat, and/or poison you', when toad rites of passage and traditions, up to and including standards for being considered and allowed to act as a legal adult, rely on the use, ownership, or exchange of weaponry and blades... hm. Oh dear.

It's even worse for the frogs btw. Unless a frog somehow ended up actively serving a military term (which they are discouraged to), frogs were disallowed weapons at all. Because de-fanging and controlling who is allowed to be armed is kinda one of the first steps to suppressing and controlling groups of people, with one of the OTHER steps being financially suppressing and controlling (see the taxes thing, upward movement being nearly impossible for frogs and toads). Also contributes to casualties for frogs being way higher than they used to, since if they're a law-abiding citizen and get caught by a hungry predator, or bandits on the road, or any number of things they cant just drive off with pitchforks and slingshots, they're kinda screwed! It's messed up! And it's usually disregarded by newts and toads, because frogs are light on their feet, quite springy, they can just run, yeah?

Fun fact tho, this makes the Plantar basement stash SUPER illegal for some spicy revolutionary reasons. Hell yes good for them.

[ladysomething]

Hello there lovely human 💛

I’m kind of going around my favorite writers and ask them for advice and insights about their process (so I can collect it all like a hoarder). I hope you mind sharing some wisdom with us 🥺

So what I just don't understand is how you can post as you write while maintaining this level of awesomeness in your writing. Without writing yourself into a corner and keeping consistency. And it is awesome, the first time I read "You and me, we got a big reputation" I stayed up till 4 in the morning to finish it and it left me full of emotion and hollow at the same time (the same way as when you finish a great TV show or a good book or an awesome video game leaves you feeling, like something beautiful just ended and you can never experience it again. The kind of hollow that leaves you wondering what to do with your life now, that your world has changed, where your chest is empty and full at same time).

Anyway, how do you approach your ideas? Do you have the whole fic plotted out before sitting down for the first chapter? Do you write in order? Does it always go the way you plotted it in the beginning? How long did it take you to plot out "Where you go I go"? Or "You and me, we got a big reputation"?

Anything you want to share about your process would be appreciated 💛

I'm trying to put into words my first actually long fic ever and I know it will be better if I post it after it is all finished, but it is also easier to keep up the momentum if you have readers on your side.

hi!!!

firstly, thank you for the love on big reputations. I'm coming up on a year since I posted the first one shot in the don't blame me series, and I'm feeling some type of way about that.

secondly ... man oh man. I'm gonna go question by question here, but I'm gonna put it below the cut because I know I'm gonna ramble.

well the first thing is that I'm not posting as a write, not really. I'm three chapters ahead, which for me is what I need to make sure I don't write myself into a corner. I'm far enough ahead that I can keep control of the narrative. some people like be further ahead, others don't need to be ahead at all, but that's about the appropriate distance for me, I've found.

it depends on the fic! wygig is pretty much entirely plotted out, yeah. big reputations was not. I had a general idea about where it started, how it was ending, and what I wanted to happen in the middle, but specific scenes weren't planned - not like wygig. GMTF I had specific scenes in my head that I wanted to write, but more I had specific emotions I was trying to capture, and I built the plot around that. in my original manuscript, I had the three acts planned out, the main plot points per act, and then felt it out as I went (which ended up meaning I had a serious pacing problem that is still unresolved, hence why it's still sitting in my drafts lmao). so yeah, it depends on the story.

I write in order these days, but I didn't used to. I've just found that, for me, writing in order means that it forces me to keep writing, because I HAVE to go through all the boring scenes to get to the fun scenes. I use it as motivation, but that doesn't work for everyone! it certainly means that sometimes, by the time I get to the fun scene, I've forgotten what I had planned for it, so I have to build it all up again lmao.

no it doesn't always go the way I plotted! characters often do things I hadn't planned for them to do - sometimes good, sometimes bad. I've been going very rogue recently with wygig, as @saiyanwitcher can attest to. she's had to reel me back in quite a lot recently haha.

oh god, it took @saiyanwitcher and I probably .. I'd say we worked on plotting wygig for a solid month before I started writing - BUT the major caveat here is that I was writing the brocedes fic while we were plotting it out. so I refused to start writing wygig until I finished that, which meant we spent more time on plotting than I usually would. and then we revisit plot points as I get closer to writing them - see what can be kept, what needs to be deleted, what needs to be changed to fit the rogue elements I've inevitably introduced lmao

as I said, I didn't really plot big reputations out like I did with wygig, so that didn't really take any time at all! haha

as advice for putting together your first long fic ... what I'll say is this. I've been writing for almost 15 years at this point. I didn't even realise that I was coming up with a way to write that works best for me until I'd already done it.

I realised I needed people to give feedback as I go. I need to have written a lot in advance, before I start posting anything, so that I know I can finish it under my own steam and that my interest will continue. I need to listen to my mind when I get bored, and take a few days break from writing - but I can't go more than a week without touching a fic, otherwise I won't go back.

they're all things you'll learn along the way!

I also think you should try not to compare yourself to others. if you try to match what other people are doing, you'll never finish, because you'll end up disappointed in one way or another. it's easier said than done, for sure, but if it's your first, give yourself some slack and take everything as a learning experience!

and remember, above all else, to write for yourself. if your always writing for yourself, writing what YOU want to see, the motivation is easier to find.

[mooseyspooky]

A historical or alternative historical fic idea with Moz as a much older wealthier man, a recluse more or less

He lives on a big estate, far away from everything. He has one or two servants, none of whom know him very well. He has a sustainable little field of crops maintained by the help.

A single, solitary cow that grazes the field whose milk gets made into all sorts of useful things. A few goats, a horse. And it's a quiet, very mundane life Moz lives.

Where he spends most of his days writing letters to Wilde and having one of his helpers mail them in the nearest town, and of course none of the letters get replies but Moz continues to write him pages and pages about life and everything else

Then one day Moz looks out his first floor window. And there at the gate along the dirt road leaning up against the stone wall is this filthy, underfed urchin. His hair is long and tangled. His hands are dirty, but the strange thing is - he's dressed quite well. The clothes hang off him, but they are quite stylish for the time.

He's smoking a cigarette and staring down the road. And when he looks up and catches Moz' eye, the smile he shoots him makes the sun look less radiant. Moz immediately closes the curtain, withdraws deeper into the room.

But minutes later the door flies open and there's this filthy child staring at him while the maid fusses at him and tells him to take off his muddy shoes at least - if he's going to be barging in uninvited and making a mess.

He doesn't smell great, either. Moz immediately puts his handkerchief to his nose to abate the smell.

And this boy, who's so thin he could be snapped in two by the slightest breeze, says he's looking for work. Work and a place to sleep. Moz says no, nothing like that here. There's nothing for you here go away.

But the boy is insistent. Johnny, he says. Johnny's my name. And don't you need someone to clean the barn? Moz says as long as you'll leave me alone, then yes.

John Maher. 16 years old, and sleeping in his barn. Did he ever even have parents?

The maid being like christ even if you're sleeping in the barn you're too disgusting and you reek. Making Johnny get the water out the well to fill the tub and pull it in front of the fire. Moz watches quietly from the doorway as she scrubs the boy down like a muddy unwanted dog.

And it's startling because under the filth is a boy with bright brown eyes and messy black hair, most of which the maid cuts off to get the mats out. But he's stunning. Otherworldly almost. His underfed frame suits him.

The hollows of his cheeks, the severe dip of his ribs. The maid doesn't have many clothes around that would fit him, she'll have to sew something for him the next day. So for now he's put in one of Moz' long linen shirts and a thick pair of socks and a pair of loose trousers with a belt wrapped around his tiny waist a few times.

He lounges on Moz' furniture all night, looks through dozens of his books, and smokes at least two dozen cigarettes. All while Moz watches silently, without a word. Standing in the doorway in total fascination.

And Johnny of course doesn't really know how to read, so he keeps sounding out all the words and trying to figure it out and Moz will mumble it and Johnny will parrot him. And so this goes on day after day. Moz will be sat in his library, comfortably flipping through something and Johnny will pop up behind him like a phantom, smelling of animal dung and hay and cigarettes and sweat and be like what's this mean?

And Moz will be like your living quarters is in the barn not my library. I don't even pay you. And Johnny just sits down, staining the furniture and making the maid furious.

So Johnny has House Clothes he has to change into whenever he leaves the barn or the maid will actually murder him. Just absolutely skin him alive. But that's a problem cause Johnny just comes in wearing a loose top that shows off his shoulders and trousers that slip down and show off his hips.

And Moz has just entered his 40th year, he can't be looking at John in that way, he's still too young. And more than that, a young man. Not a young woman. But Moz will clutch Johnny's filthy unwashed clothes to his face late into the night and shiver. Has to stop himself from staining them with something humiliating.

Because Johnny is far more clever than you'd expect. He's bright, he's studious, he loves to catch Moz singing in the garden when he's doing the weeding so the other hired help won't have to. He's incredibly kind, he's almost unnaturally gifted with the animals. Moz isn't sure where this young man came from or where he's going. But he wants him so badly.

God but Johnny is such a mischief maker, he loves to tease Moz in the worst ways possible and it drives Moz mad. His favorite tea cup goes missing, has to go fetch it from the horse stable. He goes out to the garden and Johnny's left his things in front of the door, nearly causing him to fall. He gets his dirty hands all over the place.

And Moz doesn't even mean for it, not really. But Johnny takes the last cup of fresh yoghurt from the ice box right in front of him, starts to eat it with a smile saying he's perfectly within his rights to do it. Moz isn't violent of course, he abhors it really but as Johnny's walking away Moz shoves him against the worktop. The yoghurt near falls to the floor, barely makes it on the counter, but a good size drop of it is on the floor and the silence between them could span an ocean

Johnny's breathing slow and steady, perfectly calm despite being shoved against a counter by a man much older than him and double him in size. And Moz silently points to the ground, says firmly, with no room for argument, that Johnny must clean that up. That the maid isn't going to keep wiping up after him and washing the furniture everytime he comes in from the barn.

Johnny squares his shoulders up, juts his chin out, gives him a dismissive sniff and says nah, no. It's not my fault issit. You pushed me. You clean it up. And Moz rarely feels truly outraged about much, there's little that really irks him, but he takes a seat at the dinner table, dragging Johnny by the hair, and hoists him over his lap like his father did to him a hundred times. But those moments were far more frightening.

Johnny's backside had been all he'd been thinking about these past several weeks and to have it now, presented to him and with untethered access. It makes his heart feel too tight. His throat feels closed up. But he can't show that weakness.

He slams his hand down and readies for another but Johnny isn't struggling. He's panting and flushed and a slight shift gives away how aroused he is, and Moz is unable to move a single muscle. This isn't what he intended. None of this is what he intended.

And Johnny slinks to the floor, crawls unsteadily to the mess he made on the floor and licks it clean, looks to him for approval, like such a thing was what Moz expected - and Moz will either embarrass himself now or suffer the indignity in private so he just halfway nods in approval, says something indistinct then flees to the bedroom to hide his shame. Because he'd never felt such a burning need to have the touch of another man. Of a boy, really, barely old enough to know how to read, a boy who he knows nothing about. Who showed up, and slowly crept into every crevice of his life.

It's sheer madness, perhaps the devil himself in disguise, preying upon his lost faith.

[box-architecture]

Some dsmp fics I would write if it was my full-time job:

----A Sapnap/Techno fic, that explores Sapnap's feelings about BBH as his father becomes distant with him and becomes the head of the Egg cult, being invited to its banquet even. Sapnap angst where he gets to express how awful he feels about being constantly abandoned by the people he loves, over and over. Insecurity where he thinks something might be wrong with him, struggling to maintain a relationship with Karl when Karl doesn't even remember who he is half the time and calls him by a different name.

I think it should have Sapnap end up needing to take arms against the Eggpire and try to get his father back, and he ends up joining with Techno instead of the Techno/Quackity team-up. Techno and Sapnap should have a lot of moments that explore what it means to be a person, to have friends, and how much it hurts to be abandoned when you're a naturally devoted person. If apologies for any past lore between them need to happen, they happen. I think there should be a lot of parallels between Philza/Techno and Sapnap/Dream, but Dream isn't treated negatively in this scenario or shown to have Secretly Been A Bad Friend All Along, and there's actually potential for a reconciliation as Sapnap realizes that he and Dream stopped communicating the way they should have been, and a resolution to go back to the prison after he finishes with the Eggpire.

(which would eventually lead to him discovering the torture and abuse which would lead to him freeing Dream and-)

And this should end with Sapnap defeating the Egg with Techno, and freeing Bad, who's obviously not doing too great, and they hug, and Sapnap gets to say I missed you and Bad gets to say I'm sorry with something like reconciliation that could become more secure in the future (if the Dream stuff doesn't end up destroying it). Sapnap and Techno get to be close and protect each other in battle and Techno invites Sapnap to the arctic sometime, and Maybe Even. Feelings. Mayhaps. Maybe even the future promise of Sapnap joining the Syndicate when he goes to get Dream and realizes he can only go to one person he trusts more than anyone to have his back.

----A Wilbur/Michael McChill fic that explores Revivebur not entirely knowing what to do with himself post-revival, hearing the radio talking about Serenity, an interesting metaphor and concept for a man like Wilbur who has never known that kind of peace a day in his fucking life, and deciding that Yes He Would Definitely Go To This Country. And then he shows up the the Radio Station That Is,,,, Not A Country, or particularly serene. He's positively miffed but he's here now, and he is going to make himself McChill's problem now.

So now Wilbur is crashing on McChill's couch and no matter how much McChill tries to explain that Serenity Was A Metaphor, Wilbur isn't hearing it. And really, McChill did want to know about the true history of the DSMP and its stories, and look! He's got the original artifact in the form of a dead man who started it all. Yeah, he's pretty sure that every other word out of Wilbur's mouth is bullshit or a very deeply twisted truth, but this is his first real visitor, the only real answers to things he has. If the fanfic is from his POV, its an interesting, mysterious thing, the idea of Wilbur Soot.

But also I think that they could be a really interesting dynamic in the form of McChill being able to call bullshit on Wilbur's stories the way his CC called bullshit on the disc finale before it was revealed it was staged. I think that McChill would set some ground rules and force Wilbur to take a shower. Wilbur can play his guitar and McChill can snark that somethings out of key, and Wilbur can snark back, but their relationship will never explode or set anything on fire. Wilbur wants everything to be about him, needs to be the center focus, and he gets that to some degree by controlling the narrative of his past! But also McChill is someone who is unaffected by that past and has nothing to do with it. Wilbur can't pull on the past as a way to maneuver this relationship, so he's forced to just... be whatever he is in the present.

And I think Wilbur struggles a lot to figure out what he is in the present, but even if he bullshits and backslides, McChill is never going to enable his past behavior or be too traumatized to push back. If Wilbur is going to come all this way and steal his couch, McChill is going to tell him he needs to eat something other than sand. This isn't therapy, but it is Wilbur coming home to Philza with his very exasperated boyfriend and insisting that He Is So Good At Healing And Being Normal.

---- A Tina/Hannah fic that Explores their developing relationship and Hannah falling to the Egg. I want this Slow Burn from when they first meet on the SMP to maybe-possibly being very close to being romantically involved, that sort of deep tethering pull and dates-that-are-not-dates that could also have the fun background effect of letting us see how other characters we don't normally get a lot of focus on are doing in their day to day lives. It feels very light-hearted at first, almost slice of life-esque, tooth rotting fluff.

But as time goes on, clearly something is wrong on Hannah's end. The reds in her outfit have always been a lovely rosy shade, but lately they've become more dappled with crimson and mahogany. Its not something most people would notice, but Tina does. Tina notices every little shift in her behavior, the way her dearest friend withdraws more and more.

And Tina wants to help, of course, as she always does, but Hannah has realized both that she's being taken over by the Egg, and that the Egg wants to take Tina too, coaxing Hannah to try and infect her as well. Not acceptable. Hannah's goal is to attempt to keep Tina safe from whats happening at all costs. She'd leave a trail of blood behind her if it meant that she'd see Tina, whole and happy, on the other side.

Tina isn't really happy to be told "I'm doing this for you!" as the love of her life starts going a little ax-murder-y in a sacrificial cult. She thinks that taking away a bit of her agency, low-key. She doesn't want Hannah to destroy the world for her, she just wants Hannah, safe and happy and in her arms.

I want Tina to put on very cute, purple/pink armor and pick up a sword and maybe even join the Syndicate in taking down the Egg. I think Tina should go up against Hannah and the vines and the sacrificial cult and win after nearly losing, because Hannah has her hanging by a vine and insists that they could be Happy Like This, that Tina could be her beloved treasure, safe from the wars and conflicts of the SMP that she's seen through her hivemind connection- only for Tina to cut herself free and insist that she doesn't want to be safe. Not like this. If being safe means never being free, then she'd rather live a life full of danger. And she wants to live that life with Hannah as herself, not the facade the Egg insists she is.

I think, after the Egg is defeated, Tina is cradling her love very gently in her arms. I think they should kiss, blood still on their lips.

(I think they should get married, but its probably too soon for that.)

[scyllas-revenge]

when I saw all your wips i was paralysed by indecision because they all look sooo good but I will say Christmus in Connecticut or if someone's already said that the matchmaker fic!

I've already been asked about the matchmaker fic, but the Christmas in Connecticut one is one of my favorites! (even though I haven't actually made progress on it in at least a year, lol)

Since you asked about it, I'll assume you're familiar with the movie, but for anyone who hasn't it's this beautiful film here:

which is THE fake dating story. It's got so many levels of fake dating XD In fact once I realized how much fanfic potential it had I knew I needed to write a LOTR Christmas In Connecticut AU.

It's a Farawyn fic, with such a convoluted premise that I'll just paste in the fic summary here:

After the War of the Ring, Faramir is injured and exhausted in both body and spirit. Knowing that he’s never had a happy home life, Boromir sends his little brother on a much-needed holiday in Rohan for Yuletide. After all, there’s no better place in Middle Earth to experience a peaceful, cozy, nurturing household. Everyone in Gondor has heard about the elegant, refined Lady Eowyn, who famously oversees the Golden Hall’s sumptuous kitchens, tenderly cares for the refugee children of Edoras, and maintains a stable, thriving home in Meduseld alongside her loving husband. The problem? Eowyn might have lied about a few things. And under no circumstance can Faramir find out.

I swear I'm going to write this thing someday! Every Christmas when I watch the movie I get newly motivated XD Anyway here's a slightly longer snippet of the first chapter:

“I step away from my loom and take in the enchanting view from windows of the Golden Hall. There is nothing like the Riddermark for sheer, wild beauty. I have never seen the ocean, but I have heard tell that our rolling hills are much like the rolling blue waves of the sea. “As I look out over our golden sunset, a cool, gentle breeze wafts through my window, and I smell the elaborate Yuletide feast our kitchen is preparing—" “A cool, gentle breeze?” Merry exclaimed. With an enormous shove, he forced the shutters closed against the howling winter wind, his chest heaving with the effort. “They’ll never buy this in Gondor, you know.” “They will if I can help it.” Eowyn adjusted the parchment in her hands, her fingers smudged with ink. She had learned to write several years ago, but she had never exactly been good at it. Certainly her writing was not very tidy, like the snippets of script she’d seen from Gondor. But it didn’t matter—her letters would be rewritten time and again by more elegant hands in Minas Tirith, shared among the highest circles of noblewomen in the White City. Copies of Tales of the Golden Hall were being spread all along the coast of Gondor, last she’d heard. The thought made her heart flutter with pride. “Well, go on then,” Merry urged. “Alright: I make my way to the kitchens, where our servants are hard at work crafting the rich courses I planned. Freshwater fish and eel will serve for our first course, braised to perfection. Flashing in the firelight as though they still live, they rest on a bed of hearty winter vegetables, which are perfectly sliced to resemble the gleaming stones of a riverbed. Next comes a flock of whole-roasted pheasants, stuffed with apples and cloves. As bewitching as these dishes are, however, our third course blows them all away: a boar so large I half-fear the table shall buckle under its weight. Its skin crackles pleasantly as—" “A boar?” Merry interrupted again, snorting. “A whole flock of pheasants?” Eowyn shrugged. “These letters are meant to show off the Riddermark’s strength. Its resilience. Gondor need not know we’ve been half-starving since the war ended. They cannot, if we wish to increase trade with them.” “If you were half-starving last winter, you must be fully starving now.” “We’ll get by.” She studied her writing nervously. “Does it ring false? I can rewrite it.” “At the pace you write?” Merry laughed. “We’d be sitting here until spring comes.” He yelped and dodged the empty inkwell Eowyn threw at him.

[friendly-neighbourhood-archon]

Hello! After Everything is one of my absolute favorite fics. I love how almost everyone survives, I love the catharsis of seeing paragraphs about a character’s insecurities before they’re proven to be unfounded and they have no reason to worry, I love all the identity reveal drama, and many more things. I’m also consistently impressed that you update weekly, and was wondering if you had any advice on the matter?

I recently started fic writing, and am already struggling to maintain weekly updates. I certainly want to write, and I have ideas and even an outline for the next chapter, but every time I try to sit down to write, it feels more and more like work. Even when I do writing warm-ups or try to read something right before I write. I’m afraid if I push myself to write when I don’t want to, I’ll get burnt out, but I do want to keep up with writing as a hobby, and want to continue the story. Any advice for how to maintain regular updates?

Thank you so much for responding, and I hope you have a good day!

Hello!!! Oh my god, thank you so so much for your sweet words!! I'm incredibly happy you like AE so much! Thank you so much for reading my beloved little work! ❤ ❤

As for advice, I certainly have some that has worked for me in the past 2+ years of writing AE. I have never published anything this long or anything this consistent before (on the contrary, I was notorious for abandoning fics because of years and years of writers' block, so I'm telling you the longer AE got the more terrified I was of the dreaded block setting in - so far no sign though, luckily😂)

I'm someone who can't push myself to write if i don't want to. It simply doesn't work for me. I have to at least want a little bit.

What I like to do is whenever I have my laptop or computer on when I'm home, i open the document of the chapter i'm working on. Even when i don't plan on writing because i'm doing housework, for example. But eventually i might get a good idea while working on something else and write, even if it's just two sentences.

It might surprise you, but I don't warm-up nor do I draft or have written outlines. I don't even have a written plot-outline. It's all in my head exclusively. Which i'm surprised about myself considering i started writing AE when i still had pretty bad bain fog. But for me, writing down outlines doesn't help, I write as I go and how I feel it works.

Sometimes you need the set-up to be different. Like if you intend for a chapter to start at point A but you cannot for the life of you get ahead writing from there, then maybe point A needs to change.

In a similiar way, if you feel stuck at the point where you're at, maybe just place down a big red X at this spot as a placeholder. Then create some space to show that there's content missing, and keep writing from a later point in that chapter. Sometimes we're just not in the right mood to write that certain point, so no shame in skipping it and coming back to it later.

Something that can also work, depending how your fic is set up, is changing the point of view. As you know, I like to use multiple different points of views in no particular order. When starting AE i considered alternating between Childe and Zhongli, but i realized that wouldn't work. Because it would force me to write certain chapters in a POV that would work better from another persons'. So now when I feel a chapter isn't flowing, I rewrite what I have from another person's POV. Like this i can focus more on things like the thoughts and feelings of the people involved and how they see the world around them.

Also don't be shy to not make it weekly updates, but bi-weekly or even monthly ones. Match your update rhythm to your writing rhythm, not the other way around. I used to update every 4 days for a while because I was so impatient. Then health problems and work stress flared up, so i went to weekly updates because that is what I can achieve most of the time in a pretty comfortable manner. My chapters are only a bit over 3k words. Trust me, as both a reader and author, your readers will be there wether you push yourself for weekly updates or take it at a more leisurely pace and update monthly.

If you can and you are inspired, try to build a bit of "buffer chapters". Back when I started, every chapter I had, i immediately posted, as I mentioned. Now, I managed to get ahead a bit, I've published chapter 155 this week and am writing 158 currently. This also buys me extra time, because if i get stuck on a chapter, I'm now not immediately stressed that it needs to be ready for the next update day, I still have plenty of time left to get it done.

Sometimes, bouncing ideas back and forth with friends can also help. Someone whose judgement you trust. I've gotten some nice little ideas that I incorporated over time by talking to some friends, which then helped me keep going. Or even with small things like "I'm thinking of doing X, do you think that's too much?". I'm usually anxious about people not liking what i'm coming up with (yes, even still after all this time, even more so the closer we move to the sequel of AE as well, because I have so many big plot points still-)

I hope some of these might be helpful for you!

Don't hesitate to message me again if you'd like to talk or have questions 😊❤

Hope you have a good day too!!

[sapphoshands]

ONE THREE SIX TEN AND FIFTEEN but you're only allowed to talk about Agatha

oh no oh what a hardship

1 Song of the year?

ha ha ha ha haaaa oh man i have listened to "the ballad of the witches' road" so many times. you know how many times! but i refuse to admit the actual number in public. and uhhhh i still have it on repeat? at least when i go outside. i listen almost exclusively to the ep 4 rock'n'roll version and i just love it. i especially love how rough agatha's voice is. and i think a lot, still, about how well the lyrics map to agatha and rio.

3. Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year?

lollll hey guess what! it's kathryn hahn, patti lupone, sasheer zamata, ali ahn, and joe locke! things what i love about them: how well their voices blend; patti refusing to sing anything other than the high notes but modulating her voice to everyone else's; the way they manage to make each version of the ballad emotionally distinct. truly it's ridiculous how much i've listened to them.

6. Episode of tv or webisode that defined the year for you?

ahhhhh you know what, i can't believe it's not agatha ep 4, but it's actually agatha ep 7? WHAT AN EPISODE. that is why you cast patti fucking lupone!!! my post about the ep is still slowly racking up notes almost every day and i still stand behind it. the ep totally inverted our expectations, a great trick made better by being a non-linear narrative. that we all, including lilia herself, had to be reminded to value her experience and knowledge just broke me. the lines 'i'm a forgotten woman!' / 'so remember yourself' are frankly fucking iconic. and 'i loved being a witch' STILL chokes me up. oh, and watching lilia and jen get along? and lilia's history! and i'm not even TOUCHING on AGATHA this ep. 'i like the bad boys'? (side note: the other thing in the french subs that i loved was translating that as 'je les aime vilaines.' OKAY DYKE.) dressed like THEEE wicked witch of the west? and the start of the ep has the most incredible series of exchanges with her and billy. as i mentioned... still not over the whole overt queer mentorship analogy! god damn. god damn!! what a fucking show!

10. Something that made you cry this year?

stoppppppp!!! the entire show. agatha's face. 'sometimes, boys die.' marvel fucking using 'you want straight answers, ask a straight lady' as part of their social media promo. marvel posting fucking agatha/rio edits on their tiktok! half of what i mention about ep 7 above. 'please, my love.' looking back at wandavision with all the knowledge we have about agatha now. how much kathryn hahn loves agatha. 'you i made from scratch.' (this show gave me feels about a kid? like! fuck! how!) rio's face (also cannot believe i have an aubrey plaza problem now). the kiss.

15. What’s a bad habit you picked up this year?

sending people endless pics of kathryn hahn all day long so we can commiserate about how incredibly gay she makes us feel. wait, no, that's a great habit. how else can i be sure that in these trying times, i am maintaining an appropriate level of queerness? no, my bad habit is not having enough time to write agatha fic. yep. also maybe watching endless kathryn hahn podasts even though i hate podcasts. but mostly the fic thing.

[gildedmuse]

[Top credit to @jhaernyl. Who knows of I would even write without her. She is one of the singule kindest, kniwst individuals I know. And I love her for both]

So, we have a problem..

A lot of time I see cute art and I can't HELP being inspired and want to write fic about it, or at least a ficlet. It's kind of a lot of my writing these days, it's helping me get back in the habit. But you can't just post art without proper credit!

(Speaking of which @jhaernyl for writing inspo.)

So what I'm do is post a link to a random site. And if it HAPPENS to remind you of the story I guess that's that.

Exactly like this.

[Gonna credit Sam Elias, if that's wrong please let me know. I'd hate to wrongly credit this random and unrelated art]

Idea:

College Law after his high school boyfriend moves in with him

Law: *20 year old starting his med degree working full time and trying to get an internship all at the same time*

Zoro: *15 and shows up at Law's door with one bag and three swords* Torao! *Throws himself into Law's arms*

Official Boyfriend

Law: Z-Zoro-ya? What are you doing here? *Glancing at his calendar. It's not Northerntide yet is it? He's been studying but he hasn't been THAT out of it*

Zoro: *Snickers* That's still a month off, idiot.

Zoro: *walks in to Law's apartment, perfectly comfortable* I just wanted to come and see you. Wow, your place is a mess.

Law: O-oh. *Blushing, moving to quick to stuff a.... Err.... Medical work out magazine under a pillow. Shambling some books onto his bed, tossing his jacket over the mess on his chair* I guess I haven't had many guest lately. Oh! *Looks down, surprised to suddenly have Zoro smiling up right next to him*

Zoro: Well now you have one. You're welcome!

Law: *Gives in, finally smiling softly down at Zoro* Yeah, I do. *Kissing the tip of his nose* My favorite guest, In fact.

Zoro: *snorts, punching Law's arm, but gently* You just told me I was your ONLY guest, flirt.

Law: *chuckle* But still my favorite.

Zoro: *standing there, up on his toes, staring up at Law all expectedly*

Law: *ruffles his hair* Right. Let me get you a warm drink.

Not what Zoro wanted, but he'll take it.

—🧡—

Technically, Zoro and Law have been "dating" since Zoro was 12/13 and Law was 17/18. Law wouldn't say it was dating. He would say he was acting as Zoro's uchidachi while also helping to tutor the boy so he'd be ready for his Third Level Exams - that's for students moving from Second Levels (11-14 year olds) into their third and final level of basic education (15-18) - but seeing as they were both orphans and both lived at the dojo (the North doesn't have "orphanages" as such. Its far more effective to send kids into some sort of school. Not for general education but for something like a vocation or else a specialty like a Dojo or a Theater or a Companion House) and since Law was both his uchidachi and his tutor and one of the oldest kids at the dojo, they ended up spending so much time together that Zoro decided it was dating.

When Law turned 18 he had to move out of the dojo, even though he was still finishing his final year of third level (the last two years are only for higher level students who are likely to go into universities. Law had earned a scholarship to the North Blue Marine Academy, so he was staying all three years, but the dojo only has so many rooms, and at 18, regardless of the situation, you had to go.) Law "rented" a room with his mentor, the one at the Academy who had recruited Law and even secured him a spot in the competitive medical school - under the stipulation that Law maintains his grades of course - so he was able to focus on his school.

However, he felt he needed at least a part time job. And while Law MAY have been the occasional problem back at the dojo, the Sensei did like to hold him up as an example to the other students as what they could achieve if they put their nose to the grindstone and followed all the rules.

Also, Donquixote Rosinate was a big donor and Law's mentor and no one wanted to upset Rosinate-san. So they hired him on part time as a assistant to the sensei which, at least the students liked him

But Zoro liked him MORE and so he was sure to establish that he was still Law's shadachi which Law ensured him that, yes, while he might be the assistant sensei for the whole class, he was only Zoro-ya's uchidachi which Zoro was very, very happy to hear.

So then, just to make sure, he checked that he was still Torao's only boyfriend.

That was.... More complicated.

"Why? Because you sometimes see other people? I don't care, so long as I'm your only OFFICIAL BOYFRIEND."

"Zoro-ya, you can't be my official boyfriend. You can't be my boyfriend at all. You're only 12!"

"Well, yeah, but I'll be 13 in less than a month! All the other 13 year olds have boyfriends or girlfriends."

"But not ones who are 18."

"That's not true. Baby's is 37!"

Law has nearly choked. He also made sure to tell one of the Sensei immediately, and was politely told to mind his own business.

Zoro remained very persistent. "Please. We don't have to DO anything. I just want to have you as my boyfriend."

And Law did notice all the other 13 year olds had dates. Zoro was from the east, he got brought up here by *accident*. And he really didn't seem to want to do anything other than talk about kendo and hang out with Law and maybe sometimes fall asleep on his shoulder, but those are all things he'd done before. So when he was 13, Law finally gave in and said, okay, they could be "official" boyfriends, but he couldn't tell any of yhe kids at the dojo. It would make it seem like Law was playing favorites and dating students is wrong, anyway, he explained.

Zoro had gone all pink and punched the air. "Yes! Torao, I'll be the BEST official boyfriend ever, I promise!"

And maybe it's just that Law had only ever had the two "official" boyfriend and one girlfriend ever and none of them had been that great at just, like, being *people* never mind dates, but honestly, Zoro-ya probably was the best. At least in Law's experience.

He didn't talk about it, not at the dojo but at also at school, at least as far as Law could tell. He never asked for anything or expected Law to do anything for him. He didn't mind when sometimes kids would tease Law because somehow they always seemed to know when he'd been with someone, because as far as Zoro was concerned it was like how Law was everyone's assistant but only HIS uchidachi. That's what made him official.

He didn't constantly follow Law around or want to talk to him all the time; well, no more than he had before. He never cried or pouted because Law wasn't giving him enough attention or started a fight just because he fault like being angry.

Well, he started fights, just not with Law, and they were all physical anyway so that was fine.

No, he was pretty much the same kid he'd always been expect that sometimes he'd scoot just a bit closer to Laa, and occasionally he'd sneak giving him this look, but that was fine. Oh, and for couple's day he'd gone and got Law a gift.

Of course, he didn't have any money, but he knew Law was busy with school and his job and his Academy Entranve Exams AND being his Official Boyfriend, so Zoro had snuck out and borrowed Kikoku - Law's Nodachi and one of his few possessions left from his parents - And he took his best oil and traded away part of his super for the best rice paper he could and he even managed to find his way to where Law was staying (that's had been the plan, at least..... In the end, he wound up at the Marine station, but that worked out all the same) and he spoke with Law's Corazon and explained what he needed. Law said if there was every anything that Zoro really, really needed or any kind of an emergency, he should go to Corazon. Zoro knew this wasn't an emergency, but he did think it was really, really important so he put together his best clothes and brushed his hair and practiced all his formal language just to ask this one favor.

It turns out, Corazon was really cool and so impressed with Zoro's presentation that not only did he agree, he took him down to the store himself and he let Zoro pick out the Sageo he thought Law would like best (within reason).

Zoro had selected a bright red one because that way it was like blood and Torao was going to be a doctor, so he'd probably be around a lot of blood and this was if any was on his hands it wouldn't show. Plus it looked really cool. Way more scary and also fancy than the worn out, threadbare and dirty white one that Law was using.

Corazon let him come back to the house so he could work while Law was at class (he forgot to ask why Zoro wasn't at class himself, he was so delighted to have this adorable and determined child who wanted to make a gift for his uchidachi. He didn't even bother to tell him that wasn't how Couple's Day works up North. He just made Zoro some snacks, said he had to go back to work but he could call if anything happened and help himself to anything in the kitchen and let the boy work.

When Law came home after his study group he found Zoro curled up on the floor next to the couch, Corazon's marine coat draped over him like a blanket. On the table was a note where Corazon explained all about Zoro coming down to the marine office and asking Corazon if he would help him buy a gift for Law and how he'd come back and spent all day working on polishing Kikoku and then rewrapping the saya with the hanging cord which according to Corazon he'd only needed two tries to do which seemed very impressive for such a young boy. He'd also run in the second he'd heard Corazon scream with his own katana drawn, ready to attack, and once he saw it was just Corazon on fire from the stove he helped him put both out.

Corazon had wanted to offer him dinner, but by the time he'd come in the boy had be sprawled out on the floor snoring. The note finished that he's had to leave - no reason which Law has figured out means it's secret marine business - but dinner was in the fridge. Be sure his young friend gets home safe and oh you may want to change his bandages before he goes.

That part was confusing to say the least, so Law goes and he gently prods Zoro awake. The boy yawns and sits up, holding out Kikoku for Law's approval.

The sword was beautiful. He also noticed Zoro's littke hands covered in bandages. Kikoku was a cursed blade and Zoro-ya is stranger, it makes sense it would take blood. But he had just wrapped up his fingers and kept working. It had been one of the nicest thing anyone's ever done for Law.

Law, of course, had no idea he'd planned to make such a sweet gesture and so had nothing to give him in exchange. Thinking quickly he told Zoro-ya to close his eyes before dashing to his room. He grabs an old hoodie he's made with his tag on it.

It was nothing compared to the thoughtfulness behind Zoro-ya's gift, but before Law can regret it, the boy's squealed that he loved it and throw it on over his school uniform.

On the way taking Zoro's back to the dojo, the stop and get some fries dumplings and the woman behind the counter's comment on how cute they are with Zoro in his boyfriend shirt makes Zoro beam. Law smiles and says, "yeah, he's the Official Boyfriend," in a way he hopes she'll know is joke and Zoro turns pink and burrows into his jacket. The old woman laughs and apologizes for being out of couple specials and instead "sneaks" them two extra dumplings and gives them what it left of her white rice which is easily three helpings worth. After the split the dumplings he lets Zoro have the rice to himself which he gulps down without seeming to need to breathe. He is quite the picture with his puff out cheeks, splitting rice as he says thank you.

"You know next year, when I'm not around, if anything where to happen you could still go to Cora-san, yeah?"

"Oh...." And the kid manages to swallow the whole ball of rice in his mouth at once. "Yeah but, you'll still come and visit, right? For holidays and stuff."

"It would be expensive," Law pointed out. "And I'll be very busy."

Zoro gives a small sound of unstanding and nods his agreeal. The kid is just looking down at the mostly empty dumpling box, picking through what little rice is left. Law feels like he's broken up with someone. On Couple's Day.

"But...." He says, eyes falling on a vendor who is just about to close up. He takes out his wallet. It's a little light, but then it always is. "Here," he says, reaching down for Zoro's hand and pulling him towards that side of the street. "One last Couple's Day gift. Excuse me, sir?"

"Yes?"

"It says 2 for 200 Berris."

"Yes, it's our Couple's Day Special."

"Is that for any of them or..."

"That's the cheapest models. We have much better for 1200, and for just 3000 we can do two E Mushis, but the air time is sold separately. "

"Can the cheap ones reach from here to the Marine Academy over on Stanton Island? "

" All the way to Stanton? No. Not yet, they're too young." Law notes the inside of his cheek, making a disappointed noise. He should have checked before dragging Zoro-ya over here.

The vendor looks between the two before sighing. He's seen enough broken hearted couples for one day. "I have some that are about two years old. The reception might be spotty but it will get better given a year or so. I can do them for 300."

"Yeah?" 300 isn't that bad, and he can use it for other things like staying in touch with Cora-san and his friends. "May we see them?"

The man nods before reaching down and pulling out a small aquarium. It has barely enough room for each creature to move, with a line of plastic down the middle so the cages can either been broken into two or turned into one slightly larger aquarium.

Inside are two medium size snails. One of them happily chomping at the foliage. The other looks like it had been sleeping but clicks into a more official On state when it's picked up, remaining fully still.

The man puts them on the counter in front of Zoro's who looks at them with a curious tilt of his head.

Law fingers what little cash he has on him. He feels for such a purchase he should at least ask some questions. "You said they're 2 years old?"

"Yeah. It'll still be about 3 years before they're full grown, another 2 before they're Grand Line Capable. These models have a good 20 years on them, though."

"Do they have any additional capabilities?"

"These models? No, they're only bred to be basic communicators. But if all you're doing is talking, they can handle that. Like I said, they're range will get bigger given a few years."

"Any health problems? Care instructions?"

"This breed is pretty hearty. They're the North Blue Heartland Subspecies, known for good health and strong signal bred with an Eastern Beach Subspecies for the longevity and obedience. They're often referred to as SandHearts. Pretty common bred, resistant to most diseases though Shell Spots can sometimes appear in old age. We sell Snail Pellets but actually, with these guys, you can charge them up with just about any kind of vegetation, even just a handful of grass. Shouldn't let him give them too many processed foods though," the man adds, nodding towards the cage.

Law looks back to see Zoro dropping a small piece of left over dumpling skin in to the green one, who immediately dives for it. The yellow one remains 'On', it's eyes stalks only following the food for a second. "Zoro-ya, are you listening? "

"Hmm? Mmm." The young boy gives him a nod. Law raises his eyebrows, giving the chopsticks a pointed look.

Biting his inner cheek with just a bit of a pout, Zoro puts down his chopsticks. "Sorry about that," Law says, turning back to the vendor who only shrugs.

"It won't hurt em too much in small doses, just gives them a lot of energy to burn. Plus, can reduce their years of usage eventually. So what will it be? I have a couple of 560 Berri pairs that are further along if you'd like. "

Law winces at the price. "These will do. Thank you so much. "

As they walk off, Law sighs, stuffing his now mostly empty wallet into jean's pocket. "There," he says, smiling down at Zoro even if the smile is a bit strained. "Now will be able to speak with one another, even with me a while two islands away. You can call me with questions about kendo or homework."

Zoro looks at the two creatures in his hand. Cautiously, he taps at the glass before breaking into a smile for Law. "I want the green one."

Law returns the smile, nodding. "Okay, that one's yours." They break apart the box. Law sets his in his jacket pocket while Zoro continues to carry his inside the box with the little bits of rice. Law hopes he's not planning to feed it to the creature when he gets home. Law JUST bought them....

"If I got a job and saved up, then could I come and visit you?"

"I don't see why not. You'd have to work extra hard though, to stay on top of your grades and kendo. "

"You don't have to worry about that! I'm still the top kendo competitor in my year."

"Yeah, but not the top student," Law reminds him. But Zoro just keeps staring and finally Law relents with a sigh. "We'll talk about it later. The Dojo is the next left."

"Hmm? Oh the streets look different in the dark."

"Sure they do." Law takes the paper box, almost completely devoid of food by now, and tossss it away in the trash. So Zore won't be tempted. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay."

"Okay." Then Zoro stands there, staring at him.

Law states back. The Dojo is literally less than two hundred feet, but he still wants to watch to make sure Zoro gets back okay. They stand like that for a minute before Zoro's eyes slide to the left.

"Hmm?" Law looks over to spot a young couple standing under the light of a street lamp. The girl has about a dozen Frost Roses in her hands which couldnt have been cheap. The two are kissing and when the girl pulls back the boy tried to follow despite her giggled protest that her parents will worry.

Law looks back at Zoro, who is still staring up at him. With a low sign, Law leans down kissing the tip of Zoro's nose.

That's apparently good enough since the boy breaks out into a smile. "Night!" He calls out, almost tripping over himself as as he heads back to the dojo.

—🧡—

Now he's trying to find something non alcoholic in his fridge he can give to Zoro. A Zoro who is suddenly here. Law known he had gotten a job and had been talking about visiting but only a few days. For the holidays. And it had only been talk.

"What about school? Vacation hasn't started yet, has it?"

"Oh, yeah. I stopped going?"

"Wh-ouch!" Law jumps back at the top of his head heads the ceiling of the fridge. "What do you mean you stopped going?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, it turns out that I don't actually NEED the last tao years for Kendo, you know? "

"Kendo?" Law's jaw drops. He couldn't be serious. "Zoro-ya you can't just DO kendo!"

"Sure I can. I'm already really good at it! Plenty of people do. Oh, and I'm old enough to join the Marines!"

"Join the Marines? Zoro-ya you are NOT joining the Marines!"

"Why not?" Zoro gives him a look. "You are."

Law waves his head through the air. That's totally different. He going to the Marine Academy as a medical doctor, and even if he stayed he'd be a well paid officer. He's not joining as the rank and file!

"What did the Sensei have to say about this!?" Law asks. They couldn't just allow this. They must have strings they could pull to get him back in school!

"Oh..." Zoro gives a mad sort of sigh, looking around the room. "They kicked me out as well."

"You got kicked out of the dojo!?"

"They said there wasn't any room for someone who was just a waste of space and they need the spot for kids that would actually be worth it," Zoro grumbles, refusing to look at Law. Refusing to admit the failure.

Just like that, Law's rising panic, his fury, it all disappears. Well, maybe not disappears but certainly lessens and redirects. They told him he wasn't good enough to keep around? Really?

But he's still practically just a kid? How could they...

"But...." Zoro gives him a small, hopeful look. "I thought, I could stay here right. I mean, I can get a job and help out wi-"

"Yeah." With a sigh, Law runs a hand through his hair. He doesn't need Zoro to finish. "Yeah, you can stay."

[thestupidhelmet]

Shatner got so much shit for this afterward (I understand why). But thirty-two years later (while the insult remains), the fact this sketch points out stays relevant: big fans of a fictional TV show are likely to be significantly more invested in and knowledgeable about about the show's details than the actors who were in that show. Actors move on. Fans hold on.

But plenty of fans have a rich life outside of fandom. Fandom is just a part; it can be an important part, but it's not the whole.

I've written more essays and metas about That '70s Show the last fourteen years than I'm willing to count. 😅

I've also had conversations with friends about T7S and fandoms in general that opened my mind to different interpretations of the show and taught me how characters can maintain their canon, core personalities, their canon flaws and goals, even when one vital aspect of their canon depiction is changed.

Imagining possibilities is far more fun than adhering to limitations. Took me a while to learn that lesson (over a decade ago).

One example is that the idea of Jackie and Eric being together romantically used to sicken me. It's totally against canon. While I never had a problem with other people shipping them (ship and let ship), I couldn't stomach J/E. Then I read the wonderfully written J/E stories of Marla's Lost, and the disgust faded. I even wrote my own J/E fic to challenge myself and enjoyed it. I also considered writing a sequel (for five minutes).

Yes, the Jackie/Eric pairing is not canonical in any way, but so what? With some tweaks to their individual characterizations, the pair makes for an intriguing exploration of imagination.

Meanwhile, Jackie and Fez are canon (for one episode) romantically (I don't count season 8), and I find nothing interesting in that pairing except friendship.

I love that T7S fans explore different possibilities for the characters' relationships, sexual orientation, gender identity, careers, what-have-you. As long as the characters remain recognizably themselves with these non-canon elements added (and not strangers who happen to share the name of the T7S characters -- looking at you, season 8), these explorations can be both entertaining and healing.

No one person in a fandom is The Authority. I may have immense knowledge of T7S inside and out, but it doesn't change that I'm part of the fandom. My interpretations are just that: mine. In fandom, as in life, having friends with differing opinions is important. Gatekeeping is abhorrent. End of partial rhyme.

Ultimately, though, I keep in mind this bit of wisdom from the Mystery Science Theater 3000 theme song:

If you're wondering how he eats and breathes and other science facts, then repeat to yourself, "It's just a show; I should really just relax."

[maivalkov]

OK, but can we stop for a moment to appreciate the work you do with your fanfics?

I mean, this afternoon I was rereading some of your fics on AO3 and I landed on "Gatito". I looked at the date of the first publication and it's in 2018. whaaaaat?????!!!! i mean, it's incredible that a fic released 5 years ago is still alive and updated!!! i know there have been pauses, as is natural and necessary, but the amount of hours spent, the times you must have had to write, make drafts, rewrite, delete again until you've found what you were looking for, or at least an approximation. All this shows devotion and involvement and that's why I wanted to acknowledge the effort you have made and continue to make in updating and creating content despite how difficult it must be to reconcile it with work and personal problems. For this very reason, thank you.

The same applies to Zoute Drop. You started the story on 27 May 2021 and you're still updating! Girl, that's what you call perseverance :) And to all this, you have to add the special events like hetaweek or the special weeks to the ships, like Spuk, of whom you take the time to post fics.

Well, I've realised that I've come up with a long text hahahaha, it's not my intention to be heavy. I simply wanted to reflect on the time/effort/consistency that you dedicate to your works. (which are also incredible, the way you manage to capture the emotions of the characters and capture them in words so that those who read them can feel them; how you manage to maintain the tension at the end of each chapter and you manage to make my day happy every time you update a new chapter, and I'm convinced that this happens to all of us who read your creations ;)

Having said that, I hope you have a good night and the sweetest dreams 🤍 (and thank you again for every masterpiece that you upload)

I think praise really ought to be given to the attention and love you've poured into this ask, anon.

I have a lot of feelings about Gatito. It's witnessed my highs and lows, it's been a much-needed teacher in the ways of writing, and it's the reason I now call certain amazing writers 'friend'.

I'm incredibly grateful to that word child, and to those who've stuck with me all this time. I always wanted to see this fic through till the end, and I'm happy there are people willing to join me as we plod towards the finish line. :)

Zoute Drop feels considerably young in comparison, but now that you mention it, I guess it's getting on too, right? (Fear not. There's still plenty of time and chapters left in that one.)

I adore writing, as you've probably noticed. Events are a great outlet for the NedPort or EngSpa daydreams, or a whole new prompt I wouldn't normally consider. For anyone interested, on that note, I'll be taking part in @hetaberia-week very soon, and, for the first time ever... @hetaween-event later this year >:)

Thank you again for your kind words, I can't express how much it means. Despite reading the same fics time and again myself, I forget people might enjoy revisiting mine. It's a strange but wonderful feeling. If the stories I churn out provide something, whether that's a laugh or mild frustration as I leave you all on another cliffhanger (looking at you Gatito), then my work here is done. I'm glad you enjoy my fics, truly, and hope you have a wonderful day. 💖

[sapphire11]

for the new year's fanfic asks: 3, 5, 7! <3

Yay!! Thanks for asking 💛

3. Do you anticipate writing for a new fandom this year? Which one?

Yes!!! I have high hopes to write for Not Me the series and actually finish a fic for KinnPorsche

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

Oooh well the only WIP I have is my Kinnporsche AU that I'm 99% sure is going to start out PorscheTae and morph into KinnPorscheTae. Snippet below the cut 😁

7. Will you change anything about the way you interact with other writers?

Ummm I struggle with being really shy and hesitant to message people so my goal is to try and reach out to more writers and just chat make friends. I also am always working on showing my support for other writers.

Porsche navigates around a group of people on the edge of the dance floor before he makes his way up the stairs to the second level where the VIP booths are situated clouded in shadows. The Bangkok elite like the ability to be seen while maintaining their privacy. Slipping behind the bar, Porsche nods to Beam as he passes with a tray full of drinks. The bar on the second floor is smaller than the main, but well stocked with the most expensive liquor, and Porsche only took this job after the reassurance that he could make more in tips in one night than a whole week at Hums. So for the last six months he’s been picking up random shifts at Level 6, and despite only getting paid in tips he has yet to be disappointed with a nightly take.

In fact, he’s been making enough that he hasn’t had to fight at all in the last six months and they’ve avoided a visit from their debtors for the last four. All in all these are good things, but it makes him itchy with the need to be active and let off some steam. Those thoughts are interrupted by a shout followed by the distinct shattering of glass coming from a table to the right of the bar. Too many bodies immediately shift, blocking Porsche’s sight line to where the commotion is, But one glance at Pear and he knows this isn’t the kind of trouble they usually get, she looks genuinely worried, glancing around for the bouncers who are conveniently occupied with another problem on the other side of the room.

He sighs, this really isn’t the kind of night he was hoping for, but it’s his own fault for missing the adrenaline rush of the fights just a little bit. He nods to Pear to stay behind the bar and moves swiftly towards the table. Shouldering into the crowd he makes himself taller and tense. Letting all of his loose, limbed charm fade behind the ‘don’t fuck with me’ face that always works to chase the riff-raff out of Hums.

The crowd parts easily enough, breaking away for him to take in the sight of three burly men hovering around a booth containing a fourth man whose pretty face is familiar. Porsche has seen him a couple of other times when he’s been working. Although a quick glance at the booth indicates the absence of his usual partner. Every time Porsche has seen them, they’ve been wrapped around each other in ways that would make most people look away blushing. Porsche has worked in the club scene and existed in Bangkok seedier places too long to flinch; plus he’s man enough to admit that he enjoys watching people’s passion for one another in all forms. 

The pretty man’s companions tonight are all pushed back as far away from the aggressors as possible. Cowards, Porsche thinks bitterly as he watches the man stand. He is shorter, but the look on his face hints of danger. The self assured way he steps up to face the other men screams confidence as much as it does stupidity. Especially as another glance at the booth reveals absolutely no spine forming in anyone else. 

The scene is a tense stand-off, both parties appearing to wait for a sign from the other before proceeding and Porsche thinks he might be able to break this up before it gets too serious. Of course he has never been that lucky before and he is just close enough to hear, but not intercept when the pretty one spits venom filled words at the group crowding him.

“You’re behind the times because this twink let that fucker loose months ago.”

[lesbianrobin]

Okay pls don't take this as me being disappointed at all (bc really what you wrote is amaaaazing loved every second of it) but what were you originally going to write for the last chapter? My curiosity is killer I've been following this story for what feels like forever it's so great

thank you so much!!

the original ending was So fucking corny it was just gonna be everybody playing dnd together with robin as DM and i was just gonna have nancy like work rly well with mike and steve to solve some problem and they were just gonna be Having Fun and Being Pals to show how far they'd come which is like. nice! but also the more i tried writing it the more it felt incongruous with the rest of the fic and like. too neat in a way? like the whole point of the fic is that nancy's feelings and relationships are messy and complicated yknow and i think if i had gone with the original ending it would have undermined that.

so much of magnetic closet is about the work that goes into maintaining and healing relationships and the ways that we can hurt the ones we love out of pain and insecurity and all those nasty feelings, so i think the ending of chapter 9 works better because it's like. a little bit messy and dramatic and bittersweet. and i really love the one-on-one steve and nancy interactions in magnetic closet and the two of them are rly the core of the fic so it felt right to let it end with just the two of them.

anyway yeah thank you so much for reading and caring ab my fic!!!

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Thank you so much @toms-cherry-trees for taking the time to answer my questions about your brilliant piece and allowing my self-indulgent series to continue on! As always, Interview With a Writer is my ongoing series of the talented souls on Tumblr and ao3, and their brilliant writing! 💜

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

Name: toms-cherry-trees

Story: Fires of Harrenhal

Paring: Aemond x Reader & Alys x Reader

Warnings: Betrayal. Character death. Very mild NSFW. Canon divergene from both book and show. Mention of war crimes and murder.

So, when did you start writing?

My first fandom writing was in February 2020 for the mostly unknown 1917 fandom. But I started writing privately (just me and my docs) ever since my last year of high school all the way to 2015, and even prior to that I helped friends with editing and proof reading their own reader insert fics (think 1D and Jonas Brothers kind of fics) in 2013-2014, so there is a lot of history!

What inspired the plot for Fires of Harrenhal?

Okay, so the idea had been bouncing on my head for a while of Aemond being betrayed by his wife because in fics it is almost always the wife who loses everything. And it all started when I pictured a wife with tears in her eyes, being informed that Aemond had been killed, only to crack a smile once the messenger leaves (most times fics play like movies in my head and that's how they come to be).

Through various hand written drabbles, I laid out the original outline of Aemond being a neglectful husband. I had originally written him as a abusive husband but then I thought, I need people to mildly dislike him but not hate him for the story to deliver the feels that I want. So he ended being presented as emotionally incompetent.

My original plan was for Alys and Reader was to team up to plot Aemond's death, by having Alys give him fake predictions about his victory. But as I reached the final scene with them on the rooftop I thought, "Alys is more cunning and interest driven than this. And she is expecting, she would surely strive for more than being the plaything of a widowed princess with nothing secure to her name."

Explain your interpretation of Aemond. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in Fires of Harrenhal?

As we know, Aemond is duty driven. Extremely so. So much I dare say, that he does not have much will of his own. His grandsire and his mother's will is his own. He will abide their every word.

I feel like he tries to make up for Aegon's lousiness. He sees the way his mother suffers for his misdoings and he tries to compensate by being extra dutiful and servicial. Yet he still harboured hope that, as the second son, he would be allowed some slivers of freedom, like being able to choose a wife, or by defect, to select one from one of the candidates obviously pre selected by Otto. But he is not any second son, he is the second son of the royal family, and the direct descendant of an extremely ambitious man. So he got what was chosen for him and he took it because that is what his family expected of him.

There I drew a parallel with Daemon in my mind. Both second sons, thrust into marriages of convenience with women they did not love nor know. But unlike Daemon, who chose to neglect by omission his wife (very in character with him), Aemond chose to commit to his duty, but nothing more. He did the bare minimum expected of him, enough to maintain the envision that the realm and court had of him. The problem was not his wife himself, rather the circumstances that brought her to him. She is duty. And there is no pleasure in duty.

When he is made regent, it unlocks a hidden part of him. His taste for power is unleashed and it affects every aspect of his life, including his wife. He can command her. And also, she is part of his new image of King in all but name. There is a carefully crafted illusion of himself that he must maintain, and his wife must play the part by his side. The regent must have a wife equally dutiful as himself. Always there by his side, serving him, enduring with him. She dresses in his colours, though she has no interests other than serve him and his house.

And then at last when he comes face to face with Alys, away from the watchful gaze of his family, the façade cracks. Duty becomes an echo when he is Master and Lord and every man does his bidding. No one is above him, his power is not borrowed. Harrenhal becomes his kingdom and the soldiers and servants his court. His own will is let loose for the first time and he exerts it without inhibitions. He executes, he punishes, he takes what he wants, like a child being let loose inside a candy store.

Alys is just an extension of that. He sees a woman, he likes her, he takes her. She gives him his powers which is an added bonus. His infatuation comes from his ability to finally do and choose for himself, what is good for himself and not for his Hightower family.

Do you want to expand a bit on your interpretation of her? Did you enjoy delving into her character?

Love or hate her, we cannot deny that she is an interesting character and what we know from her is extremely subjective. An entire House wiped from the face of Earth minus one bastard. A witch, or so they say. A witch who ends up carrying a child we must assume is Aemond's but we cannot be sure. And that's it. We don't know what drives her, what she likes, what she thinks of the war. She feels like a template which is what makes her so fun to write.

In my envision she does not seek power exactly, but stability. As a bastard woman she cannot take anything for granted, not even the roof above herself. She's been many years under service of the Strongs and we can only guess what sort of treatment she received. We know she's lost children but we never know who fathered them or if it happened willingly. We can presume Lady Strong didn’t take kindly to her (Like Catelyn with Jon in ASoiaF).

She has her card under her sleeve with her visions and she sees Aemond as the perfect fool to use them. A man who is not quite a man, full of adrenaline and anger, who is more driven than anyone to win this war. She offers him an invaluable advantage that he cannot refuse. She puts herself forward as collateral and the now free willed Aemond cannot refuse.

But she's playing him, not out of sheer malice but simply self survival. And when his wife comes, Alys must choose what to do with her. Originally Alys would have let her live, had it not been for the babies, Alys' and the wife's. That changed the scenario. Her golden card of mothering a Targaryen would lose shine if a legal wife also brought forth a legal heir. That conception sealed her fate. Again not out of malice, as Alys had grown quite fond of the wife, like a trusted friend, but she had to put herself first. And unfortunately Alys likes theatrics, so poison in the tea wouldn't cut it.

Does she have a face claim?

In my mind, it's Eva Green. Totally not thinking of Miss Peregrine.

[Photo from :･ﾟ✧soׂsa ִ ۟  ⌁0]

Was there anything in specific that inspired your Reader portrayal?

She is a mixture of concepts I had and morphed into something I liked. I think of her as a woman who thinks she deserves better but does nothing to achieve it. She thinks she deserves at least respect and some degree of attention from her husband, but when she does not get it the first try, she does not try to change it. She let's things be as they are. He ignores her? So be it. He has mistresses? She never directly confronts him about it. Even when he forces her to move into his chamber and disposes of her things, when things become oppressive, she does not fight them back.

When she meets Alys, she develops this notion that she in fact holds some power over her life and destiny, that she has means and drive to fight back, that her life is not whatever curveball launched at her.

But of course this freedom is an illusion only. She (the wife) has no power. She thinks she has, she thinks that by taking a drastic measure such as disposing of Aemond that she is in fact changing her life, when in reality she is just a dog being led by Alys' invisible, but very persuasive, leash.

What are you working on next?

I have many WIPS, none that are concrete in the immediate future, but hopefully to be done within the next 2 weeks! One is a JacexWife smut (shameless) and one will be a multichapter of post-war Aemond with a dragonseed!

Could we please have a snippet? 💜

Here is a little snippet of my Aemond x Dragonseed OC fic. She does not have a name yet. but her personality and background are mostly defined.

Sleep had evaded her for a while now. How could she find rest, submerged in such deep pits of the Seven Hells? The faint by perpetual dripping of water on stone, the scurrying of the rats alongside the walls and corridors, and the eerie, guttural, cacophonous bedlam of her fellow death row prisoners. The pointless prayers, the maniac laughter, insults hurled at the guards, followed closely by muffled cries with the face hidden against the wall. Coughing, retching, sound of human decay and immorality. The man next to her cell had apparently chosen to jerk himself to death, getting as close to the iron bars as possible whenever a guard walked past the cells, fingers tapping the grates as he chose whose head would roll in the scaffold that day. At least the rats showed more decency, scurrying around her bare feet, collecting the crumbs of stale bread she had dropped for them. A long, imposing shadow cast on the wall, in the shape of a man. A guard, she could guess. Looking out the corner of the eye, she noticed his finger placed on the lock of the cell. She had been chosen at last. She did not fear it. In fact, the wait stretched too long. I will join them at last, she thought The guard forced her back to attention with a harsh kick on the door, rattling the metal and reigniting the madness within the corridor, which quieted every time they came to fish out a new victim to be killed publicly to appease the fools, make them think that they did something useful. The key struggled in the lock, and the rusty hinges creaked as the cell door slowly swung open. "Rise and shine, bastard," sneered the guard. "You are getting married."