#it's real and i already have a single chapter drafted that will go on to be idk how long

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. we ain’t spoke in so long, probably put me in the past. i can still get you wet, and i can still make you laugh.

01, CHAPTER ONE. OLD SPARKS.

ju speaks. who’s catching my word play for this chapter ooouuu.. i’m having so much fun writing them already and yes, maya’s gonna be a problem (i am just so predictable). pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual innuendos. kinda content too? idk this fic feeds you all.

present day, may, 2025.

los angeles still doesn’t feel real.

it’s like a whole new game out here, and i’ve been telling myself i can handle it. going first in the draft was wild—i’d dreamt of that moment since i was a kid, but hearing my name called, realizing it was real, felt different. la’s been something else too, this city that’s both too big and somehow feels small once you’re in it. i’ve got an apartment with this insane view too. floor to ceiling windows, sunlight flooding in every morning, palm trees out front like something off a postcard, but it doesn’t quite feel like home yet. i guess i thought maybe it would by now.

the team’s been great, though. down to the vets, the coaching staff, the media team… every single one of them welcomed me like i’ve always belonged here, and that makes things easier. cam threw this party tonight to really celebrate me being here, not just another pr event, but like… i don’t know, like they actually wanted to get to know me better. her backyard’s all polished up. the gates hold up some fairy lights, and the smell of barbecue just tops it all off.

maya’s been around since day one, practically the second i landed here. she’s one of our coordinators—smart, organized, and just enough older than me. stanford grad, of course, which she’s mentioned just enough times that i know she’s proud of it. there’s something good about her. yeah, she’s good. she knows how to handle herself, that’s for sure.

nailea hasn’t been around. i thought i’d see her by now, maybe even catch lurking during one of my practices or just… run into her somewhere. i mean, i’m sure she wouldn’t quit her job because of me. she’s been quiet, out of sight. which is fine. we haven’t really talked since before the draft—if that’s what you’d call it. it’s probably for the best. i don’t think she really wants to talk anyway.

i’m mid-sentence, talking to rae and rickea about their pregame rituals when maya steps up, her manicured hand resting casually on my slouched shoulder like it belongs there. she laughs at something rae says, smiling, and i feel myself ease into the conversation a little more.

rae’s all animated, talking about how she won’t step onto the court without this neon scrunchie she swears by. i’m leaning in to give her grief for it when i catch something in my periphery—someone, actually.

nailea’s here. at my welcome to the league party, maybe just coming by to say she showed up. i’m sure cam would kill her if she didn’t, they got pretty close last year. she looks like she just stepped out of my memories, if you think about that memory everyday.

i suck in, turning in attempt to not make myself seen. then, rae, three jell-o shots deep and definitely feeling it, pats my thigh in excitement and grins wide. “nai! c’mere!” she calls her over, completely missing how i’m trying not to look too invested.

i bite my lip, turning my head back over. i see how she hesitates, and then she looks at me. there’s no emotion, not a single ounce of longing or surprise. she looks at me like i’m nothing. it hurts more than i’d ever admit, but at the same time, i get it. i don’t exactly have the right to expect anything else.

her eyes shift to the others, weighing her options, probably playing out how the entire encounter would go in her head, but rae’s insistence doesn’t really give her much of a choice. she flashes us a grin, though i’m sure it isn’t for me, before she slowly waltzes over.

my eyes follow her like some unconscious habit until she’s almost in reach. as she comes closer, i find myself sizing her up, cataloging the way her hair falls just right, how her shirt hangs off her shoulders. then, out of nowhere, rickea shoves a finger into my ear from my left, and i flinch, turning to see her arched eyebrows silently demanding that i lock in. i don’t question it—i do. a little bit.

“nai handles a good chunk of our pr. she’s doing game day operations this year too,” rae cuts through. she was on some paid internship last year, testing out every role the sparks had to offer to see what she liked. she moved up. got the job.

i don’t know why it stings that she’s doing good without me.

“we know each—“ i begin.

“we went to high school to—“ nai says at the same time as me, and i look at her. rickea is stifling back a laugh beside me, and nai finishes her sentence.

“paige and i went to high school together.” she says, and i stay silent. high school? is that all i am now? a high school buddy?

rae’s grin grows wider, and she’s so excited about it i can barely make out her words. “she’s so great, and basically our backbone now,” she says, nudging nailea’s shoulder. “if it weren’t for her, i’d be late to half my interviews, right?” she laughs, a little too loud.

“guess you owe her then,” i say simply, forcing a grin. nai’s eyes flash to mine, but they’re off me just as quick. i let mine stay, squinting as maya begins to ramble.

“and she makes my job way easier.” maya’s fingers tap against my shoulder, almost like she’s staking a claim. “you ever need someone to keep you in line, paige, she’s your girl,” she adds, smiling at nai, though there’s some unfamiliarity to it. i can tell that they know each other, just not well enough i’m assuming.

nai’s eyes drop to maya’s hand, just a quick glance, but it’s enough to make me hyper-aware of the touch. her gaze returns to my face, a single eyebrow raised in that subtle way that’s more telling than words. like she’s already put it all together, and she doesn’t need to say a thing. instinctively, i shift, shrugging maya’s hand off with a casual roll of my shoulder, trying to mask it as if i’m just adjusting my posture.

nai doesn’t react, but her mouth twitches, a hint of a smirk, there and gone.

she lets out a soft laugh as i lean more against the table now, and i caught the way maya dropped her hand to her side. “i think paige has got it handled.”

i raise an eyebrow, leaning back just a little. “could always use the backup.”

nai’s eyes flash with a quick, knowing glint as she tilts her head, that slight smirk of hers appearing like she’s been waiting for an opening. “backup?” she repeats, nearly cheerful. i hated her tone. “thought you were more into… side options than backups, paige.”

it’s subtle, just low enough that only i catch the full weight of it, but it lands. i let out a low chuckle, stroking my chin and licking my lips. “aight,” i say, swallowing down any reaction, “i set myself up for that.”

maya gives me a sidelong look, sensing the tension but probably not quite getting it. nai laughs softly, a quick, dismissive sound that shouldn’t hit as hard as it does. it’s almost like she’s proud of getting that dig in. i cross my arms over my chest, and for some reason, i can’t contain my own smile.

rickea jumps in then, catching the vibe—or maybe just rescuing me. “anyway!” she says, her voice bright, easing into some story about some mascot switch-up from last year nai had to handle. i nod along, pretending i’m invested, though every part of me is still reeling from nai’s words, her laugh, the way she looked at me like she had me all figured out.

but maybe that’s what she wants me to think.

the backyard’s emptied out now, save for a few stray bottles and a couple of plastic jello cups scattered across the tables. i slide the glass door open and step inside, the house now filled with some low music from a record player. i was planning to find cam, to thank her for throwing this whole thing together. but when i come into the kitchen, it’s nai i see, her sleeves rolled up, forearms wet, scrubbing out a vase under the sink.

she’s focused, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, and i catch myself looking just a second too long before she looks up herself, catching me in the act. she pauses for a moment, her hands stilled under the water before she continues.

“didn’t take you for the clean up crew,” she mumbles, a little low that i almost don’t hear it over the running water.

i shrug, poking my bottom lip out. “figured i owed cam for putting this together,” i say, eyes still fixed on her. “nothin’ like a little gratitude, right?”

she lets out a little scoff, eyes still on the vase, fingers working over the smooth glass, rinsing it under the stream. “cam’s got enough gratitude coming her way,” she murmurs, and i can’t really read the implication. “she doesn’t need more from you.”

the words are light, almost casual, but they land with an edge that sticks. i take a slow step closer, letting the sliding door click shut behind me as i stand by it, almost like i’m stuck.

“well,” i start, beginning to stroll closer with my hands tucked in my pockets, “maybe i’m here because i wanted to check in. see how you’re doing.”

her eyes cut to me briefly, unimpressed. “i’m good, paige,” she says, letting the vase drip dry on a towel, and turning her attention to the next one. “never been better, actually.”

“great,” i say, not breaking eye contact, even as she keeps hers on the dishes, hands slowing just slightly. “then you won’t mind the company.”

she lifts an eyebrow, smirking, and i feel my pulse spike. “company?” she repeats, cocking her head as she pauses, hands resting on the edge of the sink, she says, “i think i’ve had enough of yours for a lifetime.”

i wiggle my eyebrows at her. “aw, don’t be like that, nai.” i can’t help the laugh that slips out, soft and a little cocky. “where’d you pick up all this lil’ attitude at?” i manage to get a little closer with each word until i’m rounding the island. she knows i’m there, close, and trying to ignore it probably.

she sighs, setting the vase down with a clink that sounds just a little too deliberate before picking up the last one. “life has a way of teaching you things. people, too.” she cuts her eyes my way, just barely, still trying to act like i’m not right in her space.

“oh, so now i’m a life lesson?” i murmur, stepping so that i’m almost right beside her, leaning on the counter. “but you’re still here. helpin’ clean up my party.”

she hesitates, and i can see her jaw tense just slightly. “i’m here for cam.”

“cam, huh?” i murmur, my eyes never leaving her. “and what about me?”

she laughs, a little breathless, and it’s the first real sign of her softening. i’ll take whatever i can get. “you’re somethin’ else. you know that?”

of course i know that. she knows i know that, she used to tell me it all the time. she reaches to cut the water off, flipping the vase over on the counter to dry. “good somethin’ or bad somethin’?” i ask, inching just a little closer as i tuck my bottom lip between my teeth.

“depends on the day,” she replies simply, and i can tell she’s trying to occupy herself as she rearranges the glasses.

i smile, facing her as i lean an arm on the counter. “that a challenge?” i lick my lips. “you know i love a good challenge.”

she scoffs lightly, rolling her eyes but staying put nonetheless. “don’t think you’re up for this one, bueckers.”

“oh, i’m up for it,” i counter, following her every move. “in fact, i thrive on it.” i’ve managed to get so close now that i can smell the scent of her shampoo mingling with the faint floral notes of soap. i can’t help but notice the newfound lightness to it too, and i realize she must’ve switched out some old with some new.

“mhm?” she asks, that smirk returning as she finally looks at me. i love when she hums like that, like i’ve got her at loss for words or something. her gaze flicks down to my lips for just a heartbeat, but i catch it.

“yeah,” i whisper, testing the waters. “and i’m pretty good at winning.”

i can see the shift in her expression—the way her breath hitches just a bit. “and what do you think you’re gonna win?” it’s like it took everything in her to say that as she exhales.

i lean back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes fully, but my focus has found her lips again. “you know what i want,” i say, and my voice is almost a whisper. “i think you know exactly what i want.”

there’s a faint smirk on her face as she grips the counter. “no.” she says, seemingly very aware of my intentions as she shakes her head, but doesn’t move an inch.

i let my tongue swarm my mouth hungrily. “just one.” i practically beg.

she leans in, leaving a soft, fast peck on my lips, and i’m afraid it isn’t enough for satisfaction. she’s back staring, and before i get the chance to say anything about it, it’s like she already fought the doubts in her mind as she throws herself into me, lips crashing.

my lips press against hers in that familiar, heady rush that i’d almost convinced myself i’d forgotten. she doesn’t pull away—instead, her hand slips up to my shoulder, the same one maya had her paws on just a couple hours ago, and fuck i can barely bring myself to think about that.

my hand finds her waist, gripping just enough to feel her press against me, her breaths shallow, matching mine. i want to rip her clothes off and take her here, no matter how uncordial that may be, but the universe seems to have other plans.

she tastes like everything i’ve had time to reflect on, every memory i know she tried to bury. i’m rough, hands squeezing her waist so tight like i’m scared she’ll slip away if i let go.

but just as i’m getting lost in her, we’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps. we break apart instantly, spinning toward the door just in time to see cam step in, her eyes widening as she stops short, eyebrows lifting as she takes in the scene.

my tongue darts to the corner of my mouth as i place my hands behind my back awkwardly, as if to keep them from wandering. nai is smoothing out her shirt (the most obvious thing you could do in a situation like this), that guarded look slipping right back into place as she clears her throat.

“paige was just leaving.”

[cmbdragon98]

Okay so because of this post, I'm making the daring leap to create fanfic for the first time ever in my life, thanks, bye.

I feel like I see a lot of “Enid fell first but Wednesday fell harder” stuff out there but I would like you to take a moment to consider the opposite.

Wednesday fell first. She started noticing the signs early on, but she couldn’t put her finger on what they were. Why did she listen to what Enid said all the time ? Why did she go out of her way to make Enid more comfortable in the space they shared ? Why did she feel so protective of her ? Then she realized “oh no, it’s because I’m in love with her”. Of course nothing really changed in her outward appearance towards Enid. Wednesday is too in control for that, but it was always there. The whole school already knows Enid is one of the only people Wednesday wouldn’t kill over a minor indiscretion, so it wouldn’t be weird that Wednesday started spending more and more time with her. It became a part of her self identity. “My name is Wednesday Addams. I like murder and mayhem, and I’m in love with Enid Sinclair.” There wouldnt be much to give it away, either. Sure, Wednesday would actually listen to her talk about drama instead of openly ignoring her, and exchanging small gifts would likely be more common, but Enid is someone who watched RomComs and reads fanfiction. She would notice the big signs of love, but the little ones that Wednesday would show would likely go right under her radar. She had no hope of Enid returning her interests, and she was much too busy investigating murders and stalkers and what have you to put much thought or time into a relationship anyways, but it was still there.

Enid however, was too distracted. By boys, by school drama, by everything. Hanging out with Wednesday became a part of her daily activities, but she didn’t give it much thought. She was used to people liking her, so when Wednesday started opening up (in her own, reclusive way, of course) she didn’t think much of it. Of course Wednesday liked her, EVERYONE liked her. But then something happened. I don’t know what it would be, maybe something small, maybe a grand gesture, but it flipped a switch. Suddenly EVERYTHING changed for her. She couldn’t go two seconds without thinking of Wednesday. She dropped everything to go on expeditions and stakeouts with her. She started doodling her name in the margins of her notebooks. She couldn’t even look at her without making a wistful “sigh”, her pupils all but forming cartoonish hearts for pupils. She LOVED Wednesday, and would have razed the world to express it to her.

Wednesday fell first. Enid fell harder.

[aadmelioraa]

Hi! I was just wondering, what is the difference for you between the Scrivener categories you use? What makes a certain section redrafted vs revised vs punched up vs polished? Thank you!

Hey!! I am more than happy to elaborate on that post. Here are the scene (or chapter) draft categories I use via the "Label" function in Scrivener, and what each category means to me:

To Write. Any scene that I haven't fully drafted, ranging from an idea in my head to a few bullet points to a scene that doesn't yet have a beginning, middle, and end. Lots of ellipses and all caps notes to myself [ADD CONVERSATION WHERE X AND Y ARGUE ABOUT DINNER PLANS] at this stage. I am a planner-pantser hybrid—I usually start writing without a real outline, and then create and reshape my outline as I continue writing new scenes, the outline evolves as my draft evolves and vice versa. 

Drafted. I have written a full version of the scene. It has a beginning, middle, and end. I have hit all the major points I want to hit. It's messy, but it's on the page. These scenes comprise the Rough Draft.

Redrafted. At this stage, I follow Matt Bell's "Rewrite Don't Revise" advice in Refuse to Be Done (highly recommend this craft book!). Once I have a Rough Draft version of the project (the entire book has a beginning, middle, end, and enough essential connective tissue scenes to prop it up), I print that off* and open a fresh Scrivener file. I hold myself to Matt Bell's no copying and pasting rule, and it's honestly been a game changer mentality for me. I refer to my Rough Draft and my Revision Plan Outline as I create a new draft that is both leaner and more fleshed out as needed. The Revision Plan Outline is the roadmap of the book I wrote (the Rough Draft) spliced with a roadmap of the book I want to write, including new scenes, stronger versions of the scenes I already have, and notes about what needs to be cut. *This is probably obvious, but you don't need to work from a printed copy, you can open your Rough Draft doc side by side with a blank doc if that is more your speed. The important thing is to start with a blank document rather than making revisions to your Rough Draft. It might sound insane, but I've found that it allows me to let go of what I would otherwise struggle to cut, and opens me up creatively to write new material.

Revised. Once I have the fresh, stronger, more intentional version of my scene, I go through and check that it's doing what I need it to do in terms of character work and plot points. It's not only a complete scene in that it begins and ends where I want it to, it's also functioning as part of a whole. 

Punched Up. This is my favorite draft stage in most ways, I just find it really fun and satisfying. My goals are to make sure that the tension is properly threaded, that the emotional beats are landing how and where they need to, that the humor is working, that each character's voice is coming through, that my language is vivid and interesting. 

Polished. Here I am making final cuts and changes, taking things at a line level and evaluating individual word choice. Nitpick city, but ideally in a productive way.

Right now in my current WIP I have an array of scenes at every level in a single Scrivener file. Most of them are Redrafted or above (I already completed a Rough Draft, printed it off, and am working from that and my Revision Plan Outline to create a new version of the book) but there are plenty of scenes in my Revision Plan that didn't exist in the Rough Draft. I will once again shout out @bettsfic and her invaluable developmental insights, you can check out her substack here and read more about her services here.

Anyway, this is what works for me, it definitely won't work for everyone, but hopefully you find something useful here! I will note that you can use the Scrivener "Draft Status" category to function in a similar way as the "Label" category, allowing you to use "Label" to denote POV or something else. Labels are visible in the sidebar (you can find options under "View," and Draft Status shows up in the corkboard view (it's stamped over the notecard for each scene if you select that option).

[squarebracket-trickster]

Author Ask Tag Game

A huge SORRY and thank you to @mjparkerwriting for tagging me in this waaaaay back in August (what the heck - how did this happen haha).

What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

That sometimes being a strong, independent woman isn't enough. Sometimes we can't succeed alone or even with the help of loyal friends. Sometimes it really does take structural, systemic change and that change doesn't happen in a single life time.

As for why I chose this theme... I didn't really. I started with a premise (princess runs away from arranged marriage and accidentally falls in love with guy she was betrothed to). When I turned that premise into a plot with stakes I decided to have something that pressured the protagonist to go back to her marriage. The thing I chose was needing to prevent a war. The theme just kind of emerged from the tension between her saving her people and not being trapped in a marriage she didn't want.

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

Southern England (loosely) in 1333 AD and some other cultures that would have been in contact with, bordering, or having diaspora in England (Wales, France, Breton, Al Andalusia, Persia, Byzantine Empire, Jewish diaspora, and like one thing from Scotland).

Other inspirations include a few Shakespeare comedies, how Tolkien uses English speech patterns to indicate social class, the Robin Hood myth, and Tennyson's poem "The Splendour Falls".

4. How many chapters is your story going to have?

Draft 2 had 15 chapters averaging between 3000-5000 words. I've already broken up one of those chapters in draft 3 and will probably break up more. So, at least 16? But I might split them all in half if I decide they are too many pages when I finally change the page size of my manuscript from standard word doc to book-sized. So maybe around 30?

6. When and why did you start writing?

The immersive daydreamer who loves to read to fandom to CinemaSins to film and tv show critique YouTube to writing advice YouTube to I'm gonna write my daydreams down so I can reread them for fun to I want to try my hand at a properly structured novel (but it's just for me) to dammit, I've put so much work in I want to polish this and publish it one day Pipeline is very, very real.

7. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers on Tumblr do you follow?

You can edit a bad draft. It is so much easier to fix something than to make something from scratch. Your first draft is not an adequate reflection of your abilities as a writer - neither is your second, neither is your third. Asking for help is a skill, rewriting is a skill, workshopping is a skill, googling writing advice is a skill, taking a break is a skill. Your novel isn't your best work until it's done - feedback, and breaks, and months of writer's block and all. Push through. You're not a bad writer, or a good one for that matter, until there is a finished product to judge. I know looking at an unfinished draft riddled with problems can be demoralizing but you will find those problems and you will fix them. Just be patient.

I'm gonna steal MJ's idea and tag seven of my "other writers" - seven because that's how many questions are on in tag game.

@zeenimf, @ambiguouspuzuma, @macabremoons, @lexiklecksi, @sleepyowlwrites (though you've probably been tagged 1000 times in this haha), @stesierra, @ettawritesnstudies

[jcollinswrites]

Interesting so far, i really liked what i read, especially since there is a lack of IFs playing in Ancient Egypt, tho i do have some questions.

1: Are you sure you mean 3500 years ago, because as far as my knowledge goes the official 1st Dynasty was from 3150-2900. Also you mentioned names of pharaohs that came way later. So i guess it is not following our real life timeline of Ancient Egypt? Also if i am wrong do correct me, i am not an expert on this subject.

2: Do you plan on releasing every background with one update for each, or in one big following update, since i guess that after signing the contract, the story will follow one line and the backgrounds will more be used as flavour text, or do i assume wrong?

3: How did you come up with a story playing in ancient egypt, since like i mentioned, there are few that do?

Anyways that's all, stay hydrated

Thank you for your message, I'm glad you like the story so far!

Since the current year is 2024, 3500 years ago means circa 1500 BC :) Historically, that would mean somewhere around the very beginning of the Egyptian New Kingdom. The setting here reflects that time period a bit, but like I mentioned in the description, this story is not historically accurate. The characters and the setting were inspired by real historical figures, but they are all fictional. The story will be completely fictional too.

You are right about the backgrounds! I will probably release a very early first draft of either the vizier's child or the priest backgrounds next. This means, most of the choices will be greyed out, but you'll be able to play through one single path from that specific background until the end of chapter 1. (this will make more sense once you see how the next update looks like lol)

This first chapter is going to be massive because of all the variations, but in the meantime, I'm also working on chapter 2, so at least the first few scenes of chapter 2 might come out in one of the next updates :) (no promises tho)

How did I come up with this? I was always fascinated by this time period, ever since I was a child. I wrote a few books already that are set in Ancient Egypt as a hobby (not public, most of them are shit, so don't ask). This one is the first I wrote in English, and the first I officially made public!

Thanks for the message, and sorry for the long answer lol

[karizard-ao3]

Any sneek peeks of the divorce AU 👀👀👀

I think you mean the single parents au, where Eremika are each divorced but from other people? I just want to make sure you meant mine, because @strscrossed has an actual divorce au with Eremika being divorced from each other.

But if it's single parents you want, that I can definitely do! Read on for a snippet from chapter 2 (rough draft so subject to change).

"Why am I even telling you all this?" Eren said. "I'm sorry. I just…" He shook his head. 

She shot him a wry grin. “I’m used to it. I got married, had a kid, and got divorced before most of my social circle was even getting engaged. Everyone was always talking to me about this shit.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why. I’m the last one anyone should get life advice from. But I guess I was the only one who had any first-hand experience.”

“Sorry,” said Eren. “I didn’t mean to do it to you again.”

"I don’t know. I kind of like it when it’s you," said Mikasa, sipping her drink, then running her fingertip around the rim of the can. "It feels like… It feels like nothing's really changed and I'm still bossing you around like I did when we were kids."

Eren turned his head just enough to look at her. She was already looking back at him, her eyes as lovely and clear as the twilight sky behind her. Her cheeks flushed when their gazes met and she cleared her throat, looking down at her seltzer, and he wondered if they were both thinking about all the time they had lost when she didn’t come back. 

“I don’t know about that,” he said, choosing not to dwell on it. For tonight, they were friends again. That’s what mattered. "I don’t remember you bossing me around."   

"I assure you. I did," said Mikasa. "I was always telling you what to do." A smile played across her lips. “Remember when you were going to run away to join the Power Rangers?”

Eren let his head drop back. “Oh, Jesus. Yes,” he said. “My mom loves to tell this story. You were telling me not to go while I packed, but I wouldn’t listen to you, so you chased me outside and punched me in the face to stop me. Mom heard me screaming and came outside and found me with a backpack full of fruit snacks and frozen chicken nuggets, and my nose was bleeding and you were just standing there staring at me, and as soon as you saw my mom you said, ‘Your son thinks the Power Rangers are real and he’s trying to run away and join them, Mrs. Jaeger. But I stopped him. Don’t worry.’ I was so mad at you.”

“See?” she said, cocking her head, her eyes twinkling. “Bossy.”

“But not wrong,” said Eren, holding up a finger.

"I've always wondered why your mom didn't get me in trouble with my parents for hitting you," Mikasa mused. 

"Oh," said Eren. "That's because that wasn't the first time I tried to run away and she was just happy you stopped me in time so that she didn't need to call the police to find me again."

Mikasa gaped at him. 

"I get what I put her through now that I have a kid," said Eren. “I live in terror that Adri’s going to be a pathological runaway like I was.”

Mikasa began to laugh. "I don't think I ever realized what a handful you were until now," she said. 

Eren started laughing, too. "That's probably because I actually listened to you," he said. "My dad used to call you the Eren tamer."

"What?" said Mikasa, shaking her head. "No, he didn't."

"He did. He said I always behaved better for you. And he was right."

"I don't believe it," Mikasa scoffed.

"It's true!" said Eren. 

"Really?" said Mikasa

Eren nodded, his face stretched into an exaggerated, self-effacing grimace. "'Fraid so."

Mikasa stared at him. "Why?"

"I don't know," Eren chuckled, sipping his seltzer. "I guess I just wanted to make you happy."

[zukkacore]

i remembered the other section i wanted to ask about. (NOW i'm going to go cook.)

“It isn’t. About… me. Ok?” J2 wishes he could say it as a kind of comfort, a white lie for the master he still has some obligation towards. But as the words leave his mouth, and he knows, instantly, that they’re the truth. “He… He still—”

“Oh, no. Fuck you.” Jace practically spits the words out, but in his disbelief it devolves into a shrill cackle. “You do not get to tell me that.”

A Message. Jace stalks toward him. His eyes flash red.

You think I don’t already know? I can count every single time he’s been with you wishing it was me, I can feel it, here.

The shatterstar is glowing beneath the fabric of his sweater. Sparks crackle at his fingertips, Jace rising from the floor—there’s a chill in the room, making his skin prick into goose flesh. He’s surging, voice reverberating around the classroom, so forceful it makes the desk lamp rattle and papers go flying. A cup of miscellaneous paperclips, thumbtacks, a pencil sharpener; it’s knocked aside, sending the contents flying. J2 feels something sharp graze his cheek, but he’s too paralyzed with fear to move. “I don’t want to hear how much he misses me. He should’ve thought of that before he put a cavern in my chest!”

OOOOOHHH this is an interesting one thanks again bambi!

Small preamble that this chapter overall was. Very fun to write just bc i think it's fun letting Jace get to be a little batshit. Again like. Mentioned that Jace kinda hangs so strongly over every other scene, so getting into his interiority was fun and I just love putting that little blonde bitch in situations so he's just being stretched so thin.

And i've already mentioned the Porter half did not exist until like. the night before basically b/c i realized the transition from Jace basically admitting to J2 that Porter killed him to J2 sleeping with Porter was like. I thought it was weird to not address that new information that SHOULD be affecting J2's feelings on Porter.

I also was just. Very Hadestownpilled in that moment. Like. Yes i was feeling very strongly about the whole Chant into Hey Little Songbird "if you don't even want my love i'll give it to someone who does [...] someone who appreciates the comforts of a gilded cage [...] someone who could love these walls that hold her close and keep her safe and think of them as my embrace" etc etc and. How Eurydice is so desperate truly backed into that corner. As Jace is asserting why he's here, why he's never coming back, j2 is running right towards Porter because he was always going to find reassurance in Porter. He has a place where he belongs beside Porter. Because of Jace. There was just something about the idea of J2 just like. Running directly into Porter's arms after that experience even with the new reveal of information of the harm he's done to Jace that like. Just clicked. I'm glad i thought of it b/c in the first draft I think it would've felt so incomplete.

Ok. So. I know a lot of this fic has had this emphasis on J2 desperately wanting to keep Porter for himself. Wanting to have something that is his because nothing belongs to him, not even himself. However, the first paragraph:

“It isn’t. About… me. Ok?” J2 wishes he could say it as a kind of comfort, a white lie for the master he still has some obligation towards. But as the words leave his mouth, and he knows, instantly, that they’re the truth. “He… He still—”

To me this is doing double duty. I keep joking that J2 doesn't just worship porter, in a weird way he worships the starbreaker pantheon b/c he sees it as real and beautiful and true (to be fair, he has a very skewed perspective before this!!! He's a recipient of just a fraction of Porter's love and its making him sick in the head so he's like!! Just imagine what Jace is getting!!) but him coveting that relationship is why in this moment he's prioritizing Jace over himself. He knows how good it feels to be loved by Porter, so there is this. Logic that does map onto the way a person loves a god, where they might want to proselytize. The god word of Porter Cliffbreaker, haven't you heard? And Jaceporter is like. His cassankanra. The idea of Jace being without Porter is deeply sad to him because. They're the same!

The other aspect to J2 telling Jace that Porter still loves him is part of the Jace Cares Thesis of IYWD-verse which out of all the jaces he's. Awful but not the worst. Like. J2 is of Jace and Jace is an asshole but. He does have this capacity (if anything, J2 might actually be softer than Jace b/c Jace threw their relationship in his face eagerly in ch 3)

Also! Fun fact. "This isn't about me" is a sister line to "I know I don't matter the way he matters to you" in that they're both technically something I stole from my togakure hookup fic lol. Which I know is kinda lame but if anything i think they're MORE fitting here.

“Oh, no. Fuck you.” Jace practically spits the words out, but in his disbelief it devolves into a shrill cackle. “You do not get to tell me that.”

It's just before the scene you picked. But yeah. I'm also just thinking about how unfair it is for Jace to demand J2 go to the mountains of chaos w/ Porter when he's openly expressed his hatred for that relationship. It's like. Yeah i hate this but also i will make you his clothmother you are responsible for him now. And I want it to be you because you're the one who cares. (i know i didn't write this with j3 or j4's personalities in mind but like. To be fair now that we know what they're like, makes sense, sadly. what WERE j3 or j4 gonna do abt it anyway)

Anyway. As unfair as Jace is being, i do think it would be really weird to essentially hear from your ex's new boyfriend that they're still in love with you. Especially if they were kinda you. At the end of the day, I do think Jace is being spiteful about this tho. But this image was just like. Very clear in my mind of this basic interaction from almost the very beginning of this fic i guess? And I knew I wanted to include it. Because Jace is trying so hard to prioritize himself and detract himself from the plan, from Porter.

And I think there's that like. Religious idea of temptation I guess? Like. He doesn't want to hear about the thing he's denying himself! Are you kidding! Especially not from the person who is getting what he is denying himself! But also. The unfairness of that. He PUT J2 there. There's some degree in which he would rather it be J2 than anyone else (J3. Lol)

A Message. Jace stalks toward him. His eyes flash red. You think I don’t already know? I can count every single time he’s been with you wishing it was me, I can feel it, here.

There's something. That.... For me... feels like such a Tell that i'm a theater kid when it comes to the way I use Message when I write. (Like if the emotion is too strong to speak, then sing, if it's too strong to sing, then dance? Something like that). I just think there are some things that feel more impactful if they're not actually spoken? Something about a Message can be really. Intimate. Or scary. It's beyond spoken word. Like its so hard to convey something being actually intimidating with just a character shouting, but to me this is more. Invasive I guess? And therefore scarier.

I mean. Jace wants to twist the knife for sure. But additionally i think there's something tragic i guess abt a like, textual confirmation that yeah Porter's just been wanting jace the whole time, wanting him so much that he's angry at the lacking, at J2 not measuring up. Like. J2 wants this to be for him. And i think there's a degree to which Porter does care about him. But. We knew, but now we know know.

And J2. Doesn't understand why Jace and Porter are not together b/c nobody is telling him anything. He doesn't understand that Jace isn't leaving due to lack of love. Due to lack of want. Porter wants him so much that he hurt him. Had to have him. Had to destroy him. Jace knows everything about Porter wants. He doesn't want to hear that. He's trying to get away from that. He can't justify the harm anymore, and Ruben at frosty fair was his last straw "Lover what have you become" etc etc.

(but he's selfish in his own way. He cares. he can't stop porter or maybe wont stop porter. He's walking away. He knows its going to keep happening. He just can't witness it. He can't escape it. He's going to keep failing them. He thinks keeping J2 on is trying to honor TRGs the best he can. But trying not to fail the ratgrinders, he's failing J2.)

I'm not gonna go over the ENTIRE um... Surge part i just pick imagery i think sounds cool + i think there's the parallel to the same thing happening in IYWD. Surging is such a post-shatterstar embarrassment for Jace bc he's so used to keeping things under wraps but now he's volatile and alienated from his sense of self. I struggle so hard with White Room Syndrome but J2 getting sliced open by my incredibly relatable jar of like. Paper clips and thumbtacks and a stray pencil sharpener is like. Yeah that's a jar of random bullshit i have in my classroom too (i'm not a teacher tho im more like a daycare instructor).

J2 feels something sharp graze his cheek, but he’s too paralyzed with fear to move.

Actually! the original version of this scene did not involve J2 getting hurt! That was the version where J2 did not go to Porter directly after. I know a tiny scrape is like. Nothing but to me the smallness of the injury in contrast to like. The Bigness of Porter's response i think is both funny and.

Became such a Throughline in the IYWDverse. I contemplated it being worse but I liked being able to tie it back to the tiny scrape on Jace's cheek that Porter is like. Obsessing over in chapter 3. It honestly wasn't intentional but Jace and injuries, jace and taking damage is like this whole Thing. The cut on J2's cheek. The cut on Jace's cheek. Porter kissing Jace's scraped and bruised knuckles in the flashback. IYWD literally STARTS with Jace getting brought back from being dropped.

It's just this constant reminder of Jace's mortality. Of jace being this precious thing that he could lose. But he already lost jace! (he did this to himself!) But already losing jace is part of what makes current jace so precious. Already losing jace is part of what makes J2 so precious. And there's that exchange that Porter said in the memory (Pulling from IYWD sorry. I just. If i'm allowed to self congratulate i am proud of this. I like this scene. I like it a lot):

The Porter in the memory says, “I promise, I’m never going to let anything happen to you ever again.” He has the stranger’s hand wrapped up in his, bandaging his bloodied and scraped knuckles. [...] “Are you saying that as a barbarian or a paladin?” replies the stranger. “Both.”

Like. I like this. I like this a lot. There is the occasion where i make something I like. This is that one. I think its romantic but also the perfect amount of wrong. "Never let anything happen to you ever again". Anything? ever? It's about the barbarian need to protect its about the paladin devotion its the best of both it's the worst of both. It's the exact tee-up for this throughline of Ownership and personal autonomy and preservation. It's about control. It's the exact ironic thing that porter needs to say, knowing the the cruelty of "i'll kill you again, Stardiamond" when push comes to shove. It's about him trying to preserve Jace even though he already lost jace. Even though he already killed jace. It's about him trying to keep Jace alive and here but also about grasping onto that memory of jace. "What he doesn't know is that what he's defending is already gone."

And it like. The weight of that is meant to all come back when J2 gets hurt. Skipping ahead slightly (sorry), Porter says to him:

You’ll be good as new. Like—” A strange beat. “Like nothing ever happened.”

Like. The phrasing of that is weird, it treats him like an object which is part of J2's whole problem. He's a gift. And there's the doublespeak of "like nothing ever happened". He's talking to J2. He's talking about jace. He's talking about what he did to jace. He wants to go back to a time before all this. He wants to make Jace as good as new. He already tried to do that. He failed. He has a do over with J2! J2 is not enough.

Alright! Last line!

“I don’t want to hear how much he misses me. He should’ve thought of that before he put a cavern in my chest!”

God i thought this one was gonna be self explanatory and i guess it kinda is. Obviously this is talking about how Porter misses him in the present. It's about how Porter misses Jace because they're not together, they're broken up. But its about how Porter misses Jace all the time. Its about the regret he feels over putting the shatterstar in his chest. Like. Jace is right! He should've thought about that. He should've considered what it meant to destroy Jace in order to make Jace his. Before changing both of their lives forever. But here they are. And they have to live with it.

I guess the final thing is the phrase "cavern in my chest". Which. Originally when you sent me this scene i was like "oh i just think it sounds cool" but i realized. I did try a couple different versions of. Jace saying what exactly Porter did to him. I considered "bashing my head in" something along those lines. Or maying splitting me open and shoving this thing in my chest. something about Porter's maul. I tried a few different things. A lot of them sounded. I don't think brutal would be a WRONG direction to go in a different circumstance, but I think I like "cavern in my chest" b/c it's still Jace shying away from the brutality of what happened. There's still a degree of separation even though it's still a reference to a violent act. No mention of the gem. Not really of HOW he died, more of how he got shatterstarred. But it's a little abstract—cavern, no reference to any body parts or a weapon or anything. If anything, I think it's evocative of this idea of. Having your heart ripped out. Losing a piece of yourself, which is what happened b/c now he's part Porter literally. But more abstractly I think it could also be about heartbreak, like splitting in two. And maybe that is what is was, too, this fundamental betrayal that changed their lives forever. And Jace has to live with that. So yeah. Maybe Jace has a cavern in his chest.

Anyway, once again I am here writing pages upon pages of stuff. I literally always go into these like "idk if i'll have that much to say this time bc i just picked things i thought sounded cool" and then i end up writing a whole dissertation. This scene especially felt like "well idk if i can explain anything bc i was kinda just coasting on vibes" but maybe there was more thought put into it than i thought. Anyway thank you so much!!!!!

[humbuginmybones]

Chapter Three! I'm on a roll!

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮: "𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷' 𝓓𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓼 𝓞𝓷 𝓜𝔂 𝓢𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓮"

You text Alex the next morning, texting 'hi.'

You get a swift response, he is pleased that you actually texted him already.

"Hi there, how are you today? It's nice to hear from you again."

"Doing pretty well. How are you?" You text.

He texts back, not wanting to wait too long to reply, and he smiles at this message.

"I'm doing quite well, I'm just relaxing on the couch, and thinking about some songs to write. Nothing too crazy I suppose, and I am happy to hear you're doing well."

Alex smiles to himself and thinks... Damn. Maybe I have a chance.

He stumbled out of bed, and drafted another text to you. But then Matt caught him and wished him a good morning... And Alex nodded, following Matt to his own hotel room, carrying a bottle of Jack Daniels. He could tell that Matt wanted to talk... But Alex couldn't help it - He spilt everything, and Matt listened intently, like a good friend would. He smiled.

"Wait, you're actually happy for me?" Alex mumbled, slamming down some whiskey.

"Nah, mate, I think it is better to make more friends." Matt said to Alex as they sat on the settee in the hotel room.

Matt looked up at the ceiling as he took another drag of his cigarette.

"I'll be honest, you've been startin' to concern me, Al." Matt's ice-blue eyes darted to the glass of whiskey Alex was drinking.

Alex sighed and rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his glass sloppily, a few drops spilling onto the settee, which he quickly wiped.

"Al, look at me." Matt asked kindly.

Alex turned to face his best friend.

"Why?" He mumbled, putting his head in his hands.

Matt replied. "Because you... You can't move on, and you're coping in a way that deeply concerns me." He said slowly, choosing every word.

"I lost the love of my life, Matt!" Alex defended.

Matt sighed.

Matt thought for a second, his fingers brushing his chin.

"Alright, Alex. You're my best friend, so it's up to me to say this to you. I'm going to be real, can you promise to listen to me?"

Alex fixed his hair while nodding.

Matt took his bandmate and beat friends' hand in his own.

"Alex... I know saying that the breakup being almost two years ago isn't going to help you move on. But I want to ask you something. What if you never had a girlfriend - A partner again?"

Alex blinked slowly, that was the strongest thing he had heard in a while. His friend promised to be harsh, not deep... And that scared him. Alex didn't like confronting his feelings unless it was deep in his lyrics, his craft, so he never had to expand.

"Um... Why do you ask?" Was all Alex was able to mumble out.

"Just think. Just answer the question." Matt said.

Alex shrugged.

"Would you be comfortable, Al? Would you be able to live like that? Because I... I think you got too dependent on that relationship, and now that it's gone... Instead of looking inwards, you're coping with sex, drugs, etc. Me and the boys are here for you - Al, you don't have to live like this. Getting high, getting drunk, calling random girls for hookups and then wondering why it doesn't last. Alex... You need to be able to stand on your own - You need to be a whole, not just a half. Especially now that you don't have a relationship."

Alex sat with Matt's words for a second.

"Matt..."

Matt spoke up once more.

"You have me, Mi, Mal, Cookie... We're here for you. We want you to have friends, and be fine without romance. Embrace the single-ness." "I'm sure that's the word, but there's a reason I'm not the lyricist." Matt chuckled.

"That's easy for you to say, Matthew. You have Breanna." Alex crossed his arms.

"Okay, and? Guess what, life can't revolve around romance. Now that we're not on tour, I've noticed the state you're in and how dire it is. I have to help you now."

Alex didn't doubt how serious Matt was being, and that scared him.

"So that girl's number you just got - Would it be so bad to have another friend? Even if you think she's pretty, there's no harm in healing yourself and going slow. The future is open to you, my friend - Getting a new friend or something more... Nothing will be lost there. Just... See where it goes, don't force anything."

"Oh, but you should see her, Matt! She's beyond belief! I... I..."

"Matthew, can I admit something to you?"

Matt nodded, brows knitting.

"I now believe in fate, Matt. I saw this year a year ago at a concert, and I wrote... Well, I'll admit, I wrote 'R U Mine?' and 'Electricity' 'bout her. That's how I banged 'em out so quickly. And then I saw her at that bar party... And then last night, and I finally made a move. It's like she's meant to be in my life!"

Matt slowly blinked.

"Holy shit."

Everything about the past 48 hours felt like a fucken' dream. Waking up, and even seeing a 'Good Morning' text from fucking Alex Turner felt unreal. The fact that meeting him in that pale moonlight and getting his number - How was that not a dream?! Hell... He even suggested meeting up tonight. What the hell else were you supposed to do on a perfectly fine Saturday night? Honestly, even if you did have plans, you'd probably cancel them in a heartbeat to not let this chance slip through your fingers.

Matt had helped Alex draft the text asking you to hang out tonight for... Too long, but Matt wanted to be a good friend. Alex was technologically illiterate and bad at reading social cues, so... Even a simple text could be a mountain climb for him.

"See? A new friend! God, I sound like your mum!" Matt sighed after the text was sent.

"God... What do I even talk about? It's been a while since I've talked to someone new where I couldn't just charm them with pick-up lines..." He muttered that last part.

"Well, she's a fan of yours, so there's already something built in there. Maybe she'll ask you something about how you wrote the songs! Ask her about her life!"

Alex nodded and tried not to overthink - It was just a new relationship, he wasn't going to force anything. If he was going to turn a new leaf and start healthy relationships... He had to not force things to go the way he wanted. A relationship was a mutual two-way street, or whatever metaphors Matt was using.

"Listen, Alex... You have charisma - Don't sell yourself short. If you need a wingman... Even if it's just for new friends, I'm here." Matt offered a warm smile and a pat on the back.

Alex got up to leave the hotel room, and Matt couldn't help but smile.

Alex left the whiskey bottle on the side-table.

[justapalspal]

Okay so like take [checks smudged handwriting on wrist] uhhh three or four? The pal writing update post

I went a slightly different direction with my yami b’s got a crush drafts that I think is finally working better than it was before (I was struggling with Ra Ishtar’s character for a bit, but only because I had too many choices about how I wanted to tackle him; I think I’ve finally chosen the thematically fulfilling direction to go in). Chapter 5 just needs some reworking now, some major reworking maybe, but half of that draft should be salvageable. Chapters 3 & 4 are holding up pretty good (3 doesn’t need much editing aside from a single line I’m debating keeping or not, 4 just needs some tweaking and revision at the end).

After that, I’m writing the rest from scratch. Mostly from scratch, since I do have notes and bits of dialogue scripts here and there, but no real prose written out.

Theoretically, I could post chapter 3 soon, or wait until I get a bit more of an update buffer and post semi-regularly instead. It’ll all depend on how much I get to edit, revise, and write these next few weeks, methinks.

I have a chunk of time coming up that I think I’ll be able to do stuff during, so we’ll see how much I get done then (and how much will end up going to my yami b and miho fic idea, which already has about 1k words written)

But, again, I could theoretically post chapter 3 pretty soon. So what do you think, gang?

TLDR: I have 99% of chapter 3 of yami b’s got a crush ready to go, but everything after that needs revisions or complete writing from scratch.

[thesilvercup]

Come Home Baby

Jake Seresin x Reader

Part two here: please don’t forget me

ok so part one of a new series I’m doing! Hopefully this one gets completed! Let me know what you think by liking, reblogging, or commenting! Or don’t! It’s not necessary ☺️

Warnings: angst? eventual smut and fluff (not in chapter one that’s for sure) uncomfortable breakup

Word Count: 1.016k

I know it’s late and I know you don’t want to hear from me but one thing that I want you to know is that I’ll always be there for you. No matter the day or year say the word and I’ll be there. Sent.

Fuck I really messed this up. That sounds so stupid. Texting people has always been hard for me. I just wanted to tell him one last time before we go our separate ways.

————————— earlier —————————

Jake and I had been dating for 4 years prior to this. I thought he was going to propose yet he told me that he was going away. Jake said not to wait for him but I’ll always wait for him. Mind, body, and soul I belong to him. Like the stars belong to the sky and the waves belong to the ocean. He wouldn’t listen to me and already packed his stuff out of my tiny apartment before I got back from work. But even then I couldn’t hate him.

His eyes were misty no matter how much he blinked and his voice had a tremor to it. “Why,” I cried out. “Why are you breaking up with me? I told you I would stand by your side through anything.”

“Becca,” he whispered, “I don’t want you to stand by my casket. I fly out tomorrow. Get over me. Hate me. Please.”

“Jake,” I croaked out, “I could never hate you. Not a single bone in my body could ever hate you in the slightest.” I reach up to try and hold his face in my hands one last time.

He pushes my hands away, for the first time ever. Tears slip down my eyes unbeknownst to him.

I collapse onto my couch we were hovering next to. The sobs break out of me once I hear my front door shut.

“Is this real,” I cry out. It simply can’t be! I wanted a life with him. Children, a house, a dog, anything. I wanted our futures to be inter winded. I need our futures to be intertwined.

As hours pass I find myself growing calmer but increasingly concerned for Jake. Why did he feel the need to break up with me? Is the mission that serious? It has to be. He loves me. He wanted to be together until our last breaths.

Is this some sick joke, I ponder. Tears quietly escape my eyes and trail down my face falling onto my now damp sweater, that Jake bought me. He said that it was his favorite color; baby blue. I break down again. Struggling to handle what happened I call the one person who could give me more insight, Allie. My lifelong best friend who is married to a Navy Seal.

After calling my best friend, Allie, I decide that he needs support. Allie spoke about what went through Alex’s mind every time he was deployed. He was scared to lose her, to lose his life, and never see her again.

Although this didn’t calm me down I decided o would just have to accept this as a known fact.

I draft multiple messages never seeming to be good enough. How could they be good? What requirements does a message like this need?

Thoughts race and race in my head until I write the best one. It should be good enough. My hand hovers over the send button. I close my eyes and tap it.

I open my eyes to check, it was sent.

I know it’s late and I know you don’t want to hear from me but one thing that I want you to know is that I’ll always be there for you. No matter the day or year say the word and I’ll be there. Sent.

I regret sending that so much. What if it was too much? Or even too little? Anxiety bubbles up in my stomach.

Fuck I really messed this up. That sounds so stupid. Texting people has always been hard for me. I just wanted to tell him one last time before we go our separate ways.

Shit! I forgot that Jake has his read receipts on. To calm my anxiety I turn my phone on do not disturb. I cant see his rejection to my pathetic text. Maybe he broke up with me because of how clingy I am? God, I can’t handle this.

I rush into my bedroom and pack up a few things. I can’t stay here. Not without him. Not in the ruins of us.

I call my parents to let them know what’s happening. They’re as confused as I am but not even the same but distressed. After our phone call I know that I have to go to the only place that will make me happy: California.

Back home surrounded by family and friends is what I truly need. So I gather my bags and lock up my apartment.

I pack my three bags into the trunk of my car. I check the time on my watch. It’s currently 6pm and 4 hours since Jake left me. The drive home is 20 hours long without stops. I have to leave tonight.

Pulling out of my parking space I make a quick stop at a coffee shop drive through. I get 3 iced coffees and some food for the drive.

The car connects automatically to my phone. And plays the last song I had on:

I Will Spend My Whole Life Loving You by Imaginary Future and Kina Grannis.

Oh my love, how you have hurt me. But oh baby, please come home to me. Love’s knife twists away at my heart.

I allow the song to play. As I drive down the highway I realize that I have no idea what my life will be like anymore. But loving Jake was so worth it even if I end up single forever. I slow down as I pass by a sign on the highway. It reads: thank you for staying in Texas.

I gently whisper, “goodbye Texas, I’ll miss you.”

[multitude-of-eels]

Okay, got my AO3 ac in order. I'll post chapter one of my banette fic whenever I learn how to use the website

My friend recommended I write in comic sans because it increases readability and, y'know, since no one's going to look at my draft doc except me and people I want to critique it, sure. Comic sans it is.

Anyways, here's an excerpt before I post it.

Mary was one of the few ghosts here beside Charybdis to have a real name. B just meant banette, which was what B was. It was born a ghost, lived as one, and will eventually be exorcized as one. It didn’t need a name, because the only other people it talks to are dead.

Charybdis rather charitably names all the born ghosts that are drawn to the manor, but all the names he gives out are just a single letter. Hell of a charity.

“Uh huh,” Mary said. “What’re your thoughts on the new guy?”

B shrugged. “He’s just a guy, I dunno.”

“Oh c’mon. Like, how well do you think we’re doing against him?”

In lieu of responding, B cast Phantom Force again. A portal wreathed in lightless blue flame opened up, leering in the nuzleaf’s direction from the shadows. This is how most of the ghosts spied on the victims. This was done for all of their sakes, after all.

He was in the treasure wing of the mansion, which meant he’d already made his choice.

“Arceus damn it Mary, you made me miss the best part.”

“The best part?” Mary raised “I knew you were boring, but seriously?”

“Listen, I’ve seen this happen too many times to count. The only interesting part is when they get to throw a wrench in things.”

“Throw a wrench in what? He’s trapped in the mansion no matter which way he went.”

“I dunno. It feels like it goes off script when the victims get their chance to do something. Even if I know they’ll still be trapped, sometimes they do some pretty wild shit.”

The nuzleaf turned towards the portal, almost looking right at it. His eyes were fixed on something above or behind it, but that didn’t stop Mary from flinching. 

“You’re sure he can’t hear us?”

“They haven’t heard me in 80 years, Mary. I doubt he’ll be the first.”

B liked calling people by their names. It hated its own, and it was sure many of the ghosts here shared a similar opinion of Charybdis’ naming scheme, but it helped ground it. It was so easy to get lost in the malice of it all. To be consumed by the need to resent and antagonize humanity. But sometimes B just wanted to be reminded that it was more than something that hated and killed, and it wanted to extend that courtesy to everyone else as well. Especially Mary, who had once been alive.

[polizwrites]

PoliZ's WIP Update - 18 Sep 2024

Getting back on track with my weekly writing goal.   I touched five  fics (2 new & 3 WIPs)  for a total  of  2099  words, most of which were on a single fic.   

On Ao3, I posted: 

Some Other Beginning’s End -  No Powers Tony POV one-shot  (Brock/Bucky breakup = Tony & Bucky) 

Short-Timing It -  Pre-War (barely) Bucky & Steve slice of life ficlet.   

On Tumblr I posted: 

 Duty Calls - Established Winteriron ficlet 

I’m juggling  20+  active/semi-active WIPs with my current  deadline being the new WinterIron Gets It Done server bingo event  which runs til the end of September.  

See  below cut for what I’m working on/planning to work on - arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc.  As always, feel free to send me   prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding  any of these projects  or any other WIPs I’ve got out there.   Interaction really helps feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

 WinterIron Gets It Done Bingo [WIGID] (Ends 30 Sep 2024)

This new WinterIron Discord server event runs through the month of September and is a flash bingo where you choose one or more  five-square bingo strips to complete.  I’m targeting to get at least two strips done for a blackout - with a stretch goal of three - I’ve currently got 11  fills across three strips. 

* Classic_5 - Favorite Song -  combined this with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF270 Lights and Sirens] for  Duty Calls, an established WinterIron ficlet where a date gets interrupted.  It came in at 203 words and will get posted to Ao3 by the end of the month.  

* Author_5 - 1k Word Ficlet - claiming this with   Some Other Beginning’s End, which I posted to Ao3 on Friday. Tony’s a bartender dealing with an a-hole patron (Brock) and his just-broken-up-with boyfriend (Bucky).  It crossed over with my  pJBB  C2_A2 - "You deserve someone who makes you happy."  and TSB R4 - Bartender squares. The fic ends with a potential of a matchup, but is platonic.  It came in at 1170 words, stretching the “1k ficlet’ a bit.😁  

Build-A-Bucky Bingo [BaBB_R1] (Ends 31 Oct 2024)

Another fun year-long  event from the folks at  @buckybarnesevents!  Each month there’s a list of prompts and you choose (at least) one  each month for your card!  At thirty-three  fills and two months to go, I seem to be going a bit overboard …. 😁

* May:  Bucky’s Trigger Words -  combined this with a previous  Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF251 Out There] for Just To Live One Day Out There - a Winter Soldier self-reflective ficlet. It came in at 312 words and will get posted to Ao3 Real Soon. 

* September: First Meeting - filling this with the upcoming Chapter Nine of  A Sugar-Coated Pill  where Bucky gets to meet Obadiah Stane.  Needless to say, he doesn’t get along with the older alpha.  It’s crossing over with my  TSB:  Aug Adoptable: Resolve –   I’ve got it nearly drafted at 1732 words written and am targeting posting possibly on the 20th or the 27th

* September: Feelings Denial - got inspired to work on a sequel to A Little Bit Carried Away -  looking at Bucky and Tony living together and where their relationship is starting to lead.  I have either a one-shot or first chapter of Carrying Things Forward drafted at 880 words; it crosses over with my  WIB  N4 - A/B/O: Mates and pJBB - C2_A1 - "There's nothing wrong with you."  squares.  Also targeting posting this on the 20th or 27th.  

Flufftober 2024  [FlfT_24] (Runs 1-31 Oct)

This writing challenge hosted by @flufftober  runs for the month of October, but the prompt list has already been published, so you can get a jump start!  My goal is to write one fic a week that incorporates these prompts - here’s some possible crossovers - if there’s one that sounds really good - let me know! 

* 1. Lost Pet Meet Cute - crossover with  BBB C2 - Bonded animal?

* 5. Acorn, Chestnut, Pine Cone - Decided to combine this with R3 - AU: adventurers/explorers  for some Tony  & Morgan fluff.  Up, Down, North, South, East and West is coming in at 347 words and will post on October 5th. 

* 10. Bet, Game, Contest - crossover with BBB U5 - Secret Admirer?

* 11. Ingredients & Spells - crossover with TSB S3 - KINK: Aphrodisiacs? 

* 18. Bewitched - crossover with BBB B1 - Magic? 

* 22 - Heirloom - crossover with WIB G2 - Edwin Jarvis &  TSB T2 - Wedding -  A tie tack or cuff links that Tony gifts to Bucky as his ‘something old’?   Probably will write this as a  sequel/second chapter  to Carrying it Forward.   

Whumptober 2024 [WmpT_24] (Runs 1-31 Oct)

This writing challenge hosted by @whumptpber  runs for the month of October, but the prompt list has already been published, so you can get a jump start!  My goal is to write two fics (whump isn’t normally my bag)   that incorporates these prompts - need to  explore more potential crossovers. 

* No. 2: TRUST ISSUES - Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife’s in my back.”  – crossover with WIB  N5 - "I'm here for you."  and possibly pJBB - C2_B2 - Being there for someone after a traumatic event

WinterIron Bingo 2  [WIB_R2] (Ends 16 Dec 2024)

Signups are still open for pre-made cards for Round Two of this super-fun bingo event! I have eighteen  fills and zero WIPs at the moment - setting this aside for the moment, as I have other time-sensitive events going.  

* Iron Soldier (One Bingo, One Fill) - looking at combining my Column B prompts: Matchmaker, Bucky Riding Tony, Stark Gala, Inside Joke and Threesome.  Still working on a plot - if you have any suggestions/want-to-sees - let me know! 

* I3 - Car Sex -  Have a fun ficlet in mind for this - some of the dialogue & such already worked out in my head.  

* N4 - A/B/O: Mates -  see BaBB September:  Feelings Denial above. 

* N5 - "I'm here for you."  - Possibly the next chapter of  Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion ?  

Bucky Barnes Bingo - Round Six [BBB - R6]  (Ends 31 Mar)

This amazing bingo event from the folks over at @buckybarnesbingo is back!  I have fifteen  fills with one WIPs at the moment, but a couple  more crossovers planned. 

* U3 - Yelena Belova  - Magica and I are circling back around to Peresmešnik, (aka Three Avengers and a Baby) - with the next chapter featuring Tony’s interactions with Mirriam, and a revelation about her parentage. The chapter is sitting at about 475 words, and needs more fleshing out before we’ll be ready to post … maybe next month?   

*  K2 - IMAGE: Bucky and Steve in Siberian silo hallway (CA:CW)  - Combined this with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt  [#FFF269 Living Weapon]  for  Reconstruction - a fix-it/canon divergent ficlet where Steve, Bucky and Tony team up instead of fighting.   It came in at 268 words and will get posted  to Ao3 before the event is over.   

* K4 - Last Times/Farewells -  Posted  Short-Timing It  to Ao3 this morning.  I combined this prompt with a previous  Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF257 Count The Days ] for  Short-Timing It - a pre-war (just barely) Bucky & Steve (Stucky if you squint) ficlet that  came in at 312 words.

Tony Stark Bingo - Mark VIII [TSB_R8]  (Ends 31 May)

This amazing bingo event from the folks over at @tonystarkbingo is back! Late signups will start next month if you want to join in on the fun!  I have  seven  squares filled and four  WIPs - I need to plan out more crossovers! 

* T1 - Watching Helplessly -  Posted Stranded Among the Stars  to Tumblr as a crossover with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF265 Galaxies Away]. It’s a Nebula & Tony ficlet set on the ship - it came in at 345 words and will get posted to Ao3 before the event ends. 

* A5 - excessive - Used this towards the August Tony Stark Round Robin collaborative fic - Tony throws Bruce a birthday party and shenanigans ensure.  I’ll share the link once it gets posted. 

* R2 - I love you 3000  - came up with an Endgame-compliant drabble for this prompt:  A Difficult Decision is a look into Tony’s thought processes right after tucking Morgan into bed.  Will post next week. 

* R4 - Bartender - see WIGID Author_5 - 1K ficlet above.   

* K3 - Pepper Potts -  see WIB O3 - Love Confession above

Hawkeyes Bingo [HB_R2] (Ends TBD) 

Working on this  Tumblr event - got a 3x3 card and am looking forward to creating more  Clint-centric content and trying my hand at a bit of  Kate Bishop fic as well!    

* A3 - Awkward Flirting – this might be a good entry into my first femslash fic with Kate/Yelena?    

* C1 - Magic -  Combined this with a previous Flash Fiction Friday prompt  [#FFF259 House of Cards]   for   Keep a Steady Hand.  Clint notices Bucky getting frustrated with a task and offers to help.  It came in at 632 words and will post to Ao3 possibly later this month.   

Post July Break Bingo 2024  [pJBB_24] (Ends 30 Jun 2025)

As I mentioned above, I requested two 2x3 cards for this  Discord-server only event from @julybreakbingo  – so if you want to join in the fun, let me know and I’ll try to get you an invite!  I have two fics posted & two WIPS  and need to figure out some more crossovers.

* C2_A1 - "There's nothing wrong with you." - see BaBB: September: Feelings Denial above. 

* C2_A2 - "You deserve someone who makes you happy."  -  see WIGID Author_5 - 1k ficlet above.  

* C2_B1 - Courting/courted in a different way than they're familiar with -  posted A Symbol of Devotion on Tumblr as a crossover with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF267 Gifted Violets] - a bit of Stony fluff with Tony  buying Steve little things for his apartment.   It came in at 374 words and will get posted to Ao3 before this event is over. 

Warm and Fluffy   Bingo  [WFB]   (no end date)

Eight fills on my card, courtesy of   @warmandfluffybingocards  - need to try for another crossover or two!

* I2 - Vulnerable Drunk - matched this up with a previous Flash Fiction Friday prompt of [#FFF258 Milky Way Dreams]  for Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines -  a MIT-era Tony & Rhodey ficlet, where a drunk Tony shares a childhood dream with his best friend.  It came in at 318 words and will get posted to Ao3 at some point.   

————

On  other creative fronts:  I am working on a Stitch head ornament  for a gift exchange, along with gearing up for Marvel Trumps Hate 2024 - have been posting pics of previous creations in order to make a masterpost to link my auctions to.         

If  you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations, check  out Stuffed With Character    over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 150!).   These soft stuffed figures are  mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC   and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design   requests  for any fandom!

[fanaticmorelikefantastic]

I'm trying to split this into parts but I think I like the huge chunk of text best

A few days passed, a few chapters passed, despite my conscience. I lie on my bed, back to the mattress and laptop precariously perched on my lifted knees. The character Leon is very much different from (my first impressions of) real life Leon, so it should be acceptable, right? I could always ask him about it the next time I see him. Speaking of, I haven’t messaged him yet. Does he respond to texts, or is he more of a call-me kinda guy? There’s only one way to find out, right? I flop my head to the side, looking at my phone which was staring right back at me. I place down my laptop and sit up straight. This is serious business. I open a new message thread with him as the recipient and stare. It really is hard to know what to say. Would he even reply? It is pretty late. Does eight o’clock count as late? I felt stupid. I wrote a number of drafts, thirteen to be exact, before landing on the glorious, eloquent, concise and demure:

 ‘Hi :)’.

Wow. How original. I sigh after I send the thing, not knowing if I destroyed my entire reputation with him with just one word, but then I remember how stupid I acted when we were talking in person, so I felt a little bit relieved. Maybe he was into stupid people. I had been staring at my phone screen for a while, and I almost jumped when Leon’s reply came in. 

‘Hey there stranger.’ My mom says that. I laugh a little bit to myself, the tension I didn’t know I had accumulated leaving my shoulders. I fall onto my back and type away.

‘About that coffee date,’ Might as well call it what it is, right? ‘How’s tomorrow at 5?’ Most regular working people get off by then right? Or should I not have suggested a weekday at all? That would’ve been better, right? I need to stop saying right, it's making me sick.

‘Yea that works great.’ Oh thank God. I quickly type back (not too quickly though, I don’t wanna mess up my spelling and look like even more of an idiot).

‘Okay, I’ll see you then?’ I held a breath.

‘Of course.’ 

The day of reckoning is upon thee. Thy heart shall be examined and let woe be also upon ye if any impurities they find, for ye shall be smote with their unquellable wrath and thy face forever stained by iniquity.

Today is the coffee date.

I sigh and turn on my side, then my other side. It’s only… 8 in the morning, so I turn over (again) and try to go back to sleep so I can avoid my problems. Problems, like what I should wear. What should I wear?... What should I wear! I sat up so fast my skin almost flew off my bones. I haven’t been on a date since, since, since- My face contorted into shock as I came to the realization that I have, in fact, never been on a date. I think. I hope I’m wrong as I slug out of bed and into my houseshoes. I tried my best to think through all (three) of the drunken parties I had in college, but anybody I liked then ended up being either taken, or a scumbag. Some guys would ask for my number at parties, but they never contacted me, so I think they were just playing around. There was this one guy back in high school, but does that even count anymore? Not that it matters because by the time I figured out he (formerly) liked me back, he had already dated and broken up with one of my friends. Then there was- I don’t even want to think about that mess. I rinsed the lather out of my hair (I started taking a shower while boarded on this thought train) as I came to the rather depressing conclusion that I’ve never been in a serious and proper relationship with someone. I might have gone on a couple dates, but they must not have gone well, cause I don’t remember a single one. Suddenly, I felt very pathetic. Am I really that deprived of romance? I mean, I write (mostly) romance books for a living, it’s a given that I’ll be alone, but I didn’t think I’d be that sorry. I slapped myself in the face while putting on moisturizer. Just because no man has ever wanted to commit to being in a relationship with me or even take me out for lunch doesn’t mean I’m sorry and pathetic and unappealing and desperate and weird and annoying and sorry and just overall a bad catch. I mean, I’m going to lunch (dinner? Coffee?) with a super attractive guy today  (who also seems to have a good personality, that’s important of course!) A super attractive guy whose appearance I totally appropriated for my novel, and when I inevitably have to tell him about it, he won’t want to see me again for the rest of his life. I sigh, burying my face into my hands to hide from my reflection. What the hell. 

I flop onto my bed, deep conditioner in my hair. I’m wearing my specifically oversized shirt, the one I always wear when I’m deciding what to wear for an event. I love how comfortable it is (it also smells great because it just came out of the wash). It’s no use being sad about it now, right? I should properly tell Leon (the real one) what I did and then move on.The worst that could happen is he gets angry and stops me from publishing the book, reports me to the police for stalking and possible voyeurism and I get thrown in jail over something I didn’t (really) do. Even so, I’m still young. Maybe I could write a book about being in prison (people have done it before, I might become successful). For now, I’ll just take a nap until it’s time to rinse out my conditioner. 

It is way past the time to rinse out my conditioner.  My phone delightfully informs me that it’s 10 o'clock (in the morning of course). That’s not too bad.  I rinse the conditioner out of my hair, add leave-in, mouse, moisturizer, the whole shabang. I sigh (again). I don’t have the will to keep working on my book until I clear it with (the real) Leon. I couldn't help but feel helplessly ashamed. It was never a problem before, I would just steal a little bit of someone’s personality and write it into my book. I honestly didn’t do it that often either, so I was never really worried about having to talk to the people I used. It was way too early to start getting dressed, and I didn’t really have anything else on my schedule. I had three options: agonize over the inevitable until my time runs out, clean my house, OR agonize over the inevitable while cleaning the house (shut up about that painting. It’ll be done another time). I chose to kill two birds with one breakdown and began my quest of cleaning. The image of his disgusted face crosses my mind, immediately the living room is immaculate. I think about how I thought I was so smart for naming the character something ‘ComPleTely diFFereNT’ and all the laundry is folded. It’s like magic almost, how when I think about how much of a fool I’m going to make of myself tonight, my bedroom is the cleanest it’s been in months. Just like that, the clock strikes three. I should probably start getting dressed now. 

I tried on a black dress, too fancy, then a sweater and pants, too casual. Maybe I should wear a skirt? If I wore it with my sweater, I would end up looking like a schoolgirl, so I decided against it. Whilst rummaging in the depths of my closet, I found a fluffy cardigan that I’ve never worn. It even had the tag on it still. I ripped the tag off (carefully of course) and decided to throw it on over a black cotton slip dress and tennis shoes of the same color. I put on some mascara and a light brown eyeliner, adding a lip gloss with a darker brown tint. It was cute I guess. It matched my outfit. I think he liked my ponytail last time, so I made sure to have one today too, carefully brushing my bangs into place. As a finishing touch, I bore a rose gold chain with a simple pendant. It’s good, it’s pretty, and I like it. That clock also says that it’s four thirty. Oh my God, it’s four thirty. 

I had no idea how long it took to get to that cafe from my house (which is really an apartment, but I like to- we don’t have time for that spiel). Since I had only ever visited out of leisure, I never thought to check. I quickly typed the address of the place into my phone. Twenty minutes. It takes me ten minutes to get out the door, so I should make it just in time. I threw everything I thought I’d need into my purse. Lip gloss, wallet, keys, phone, pencil, pen, memo pad, if it was in my reach and it made a sliver of sense, it was put in the purse. I quickly locked the door behind me then checked the time on my phone. I’m right on schedule, so from here on out, I don’t have to worry. While walking to my doom, I felt more at ease than I had all day, like the feeling of finally getting to the firing range after weeks of the execution waitlist. Ater this, I’ll delete his number from my phone, never appear in that cafe again, and rewrite the entirety of my novel. I watched a bird deftly land on a tree branch nearby, a mourning dove, how pretty, and took the liberty to call it proof that I’m on the right track. With this newfound relief, I waltzed all the way to the door. Then the fear kicked back in. Even if you know you’re going to die, it’s still scary to face the firing range. Mustering up all the courage in my fallen and twisted stomach, I opened the door. Leon. He was here already, sitting patiently at a table (for two), facing the wall. Without checking who came in, he immediately stood and turned to beckon me over, a bit weird, but maybe he saw me before I opened the door. 

“I thought I was on time for once.” I try to calm myself by being funny (I’m not) as he pulls the chair for me to sit down (wow, gentleman alert (or maybe my standards are low)). 

“No, I'm just early. Military habit.” That tracked. I gathered all my resolve to not twirl my hair after I sat. I spent too much time on it. Instead, I just looked up and smiled. He even looks good from down here. He’s gotta be cheating somehow, that’s just not natural.

“So I guess you’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes?” He raised his eyebrows for a second, as if to communicate his answer. I guess I was right. At least something good came out of being raised in a military household (though the damage to my social skills is irreparable).

“I’ll order. Do you know what you want?” 

“Chicken panini and Chai latte, please.” I think I might have been a little too excited about the food, because he laughed at me. Not audibly or anything, but I could see it in his eyes. 

“Coming right up.”  He was suave in the way that a men’s soap model is.  It only dawned on me as he walked away, but the way Leon spoke was very smooth. It scrambled my brain. So much so that I had almost completely forgotten about the truth of this meeting, my (tentatively) first and last date. It’ll be painful for sure, but I have to set things straight. Right as I took in an exasperated sigh, a white porcelain plate was placed before me. With a chicken panini :) 

“Why the long face? Is it that horrible to be on a date with me?” His smile made me wish I could melt into a puddle. I watched him sit across from me and I knew I had to tell him. 

“No, it’s great actually. I don’t get out much. It’s not about you, I swear. Just… promise you won’t be too mad?” Even if I couldn’t melt into a puddle, my palms sure were trying to. I looked at him. He cocked his eyebrow at me while taking a sip of his coffee. He’s always drinking coffee.

“You’re scaring me, what is it?” Liar. He looked more amused than anything. It made me wonder if he was really as wholesome as he appeared when he asked for my number. Or maybe that was just my mind running off again.

“Okay. You see, I’m an author, and I’m in the process of writing a novel right now. A couple days ago I saw you at the cafe and- I was having a hard time figuring out one of the characters, okay? Well, I saw you, and I wrote the character to look like you and-” I heaved a sigh. This is the worst part. “I named him Leon. I- I really didn’t know! I just made sense with the theme and all. But then the next day you asked me out and you said that  y o u r  name was Leon, and that just made everything worse. I’m sorry, I’ll change it. I just thought it wasn’t right to start- whatever this is- without telling you.” I sighed, looking at him. He looked surprised, but not appalled, thank God. After a moment, he even laughed. A low rumbling thing that made me feel (somehow) even more embarrassed of myself. 

“You know, that’s one hell of a way to start a first date.” I laughed a little. Maybe he wouldn’t press any charges after all. 

“Yea, I know. I’ll pay you back for today. It’s totally understandable if you wanna leave.” I try not to make him any more uncomfortable than he probably already is. It only just occurred to me that he might just be good at hiding his emotions. 

“No, you don’t have to. It’s just- I don’t think I can top that. Here I was planning to butter you up with compliments, then you tell me you wrote a whole book about me? I mean, that’s something else.” I felt my shoulders relax a little. He took it as a compliment?

“You know, most people would think of that as a negative thing.” I couldn’t help but snicker a little. I even took a bite of my sandwich (panini). It was delicious, as always.

“There are things in the world that are much less pleasant than getting written about.” The way he says it makes me think that maybe he experienced one or two of those things, but now is not the time to pry.

The conversation actually went well, great even. We spoke about all sorts of things, family (he doesn't have any), food (his favorite is, get this, grilled cheese. What the hell.), hobbies (that he doesn’t have) and the like. He couldn’t speak about work (classified, he says), so instead I told him of all my creative endeavors, art, literature, music. He said it was good that I’m creative. I said it’s good that I survived it. He owns a motorcycle. Our banter continued and before we knew it, two hours had passed. 

“Is the sun setting already? What time is it?” I was in a daze. Spending time with him felt like I was intoxicated, everything was so warm and fuzzy that I could barely think anymore. I looked back at him. He seemed just as composed and sane as ever. He’s a secret agent after all, keeps his emotions in check. All I ever do is feel. 

“Seven. Do you wanna call it, or should we change locations?” I thought about it for a second. I want to spend more time with him. I mean, he’s cool and friendly, and he didn’t even flinch when I told him about the novel fiasco. 

“How about dinner? You can pick where.” I really just wanted the chance to ride his motorcycle, but let’s not talk about that too much.

“Didn’t you just eat? You wanna dry my wallet, huh?” He said that, but he was already helping me out of my chair and towards the door.

“A sandwich isn’t a meal, and I could pay if it’s really that much trouble.” I laughed. I didn’t know it before I met him, but Leon’s strange sense of humor is really right up my alley. 

“Now that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me, would it?” He opened the door for me. The cold night air made me glad that I wore this sweater. I turned to face him, the streetlights accenting his face in a way that’s probably outlawed in seventeen countries. The chill in the air makes me feel alive. This night was special, for a reason I couldn’t quite put my finger on at the time.

“So, take me away to this amazing restaurant then, Mr. Gentleman.” After my (genius) little quip, I do a spin to soak up the air. I don’t notice the way he looks at me. I don’t see how he’s staring like I’m the first human being he’s seen in months. All I see are the stars above us.

“It’s a pretty small place, but the food is to die for. I hope you’re okay with outdoor restaurants?” I stop and see his face again. His eyes look like pretty blue stars. 

“Long as the food’s worth.” Just as he’s about to lead me away, he makes a face like he forgot something, then turns to me.

“Are you okay with riding my bike there? It’s a little further than walking distance.” I give him a slight nod.

“We’ll see.” 

[sleepytime-fics]

omg a real sleepytime fics post?!

okay but anywayz, sorry ive been gone all summer (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)

BUT i DO have a draft for the next chapter for WYDDGA

im having lots of trouble finding ideas on how to continue it (it's for the episode Donnie's Gifts)

SO sorry to have to ask for help but if anyone has any ideas on how to continue this, ill be very grateful (and i WILL credit y'all for your help if i go with any of yalls ideas)

Draft is under the cut :))

        Often times you found yourself wondering what life would be like if you hadn’t ended up in this strange cartoon world. Would you be hanging out with your friends right now? Sneaking out and racing across the town? Or would you be in your home, safe and sound as you cozied up in your bed? This time was no exception, as you battled mutated silverfish over your, supposedly delicious, laundry.

        “Let go, you gross, dog-sized excuse of a clothes moth!” You huffed as you engaged in the world’s worst game of tug-of-war against the silverfish for the ultimate prize; your freshly cleaned laundry. The silverfish hissed in response, allowing you to kick it in the face. Unfortunately for you, you had forgotten that they multiply with each and every hit, so now you had two mutant silverfish. How great. You sighed, quickly packing the rest of your laundry in your basket before they had a chance to get a taste of the rest of your things. Rushing out of the laundromat with the silverfish nipping at your feet, you quickly made your way to Parker’s apartment.

        When you finally did make it to the apartment, you were already tired. A long day of doing laundry, fighting off the mutant silverfish, and literally nothing else was just too much to bear.

…okay so you were being lazy but honestly, who could blame you? Every single day here was like a free lazy day, and it's not like you weren't going to take advantage of that. The stress of life back home was completely gone, and you had many years of relaxation to catch up on. You were in lazy debt!

        But now that you were thinking about it… you did feel kinda bad that you were just lazing around the apartment doing nothing. It almost felt like you were mooching off of Parker and- nevermind guilt gone. You collapsed onto the couch, smiling to yourself as you relaxed into the fabric.

        “Back home already?” Dale’s voice pulled you out of your relaxation. You turned your head, seeing Dale’s bald head peering out of his bedroom. You sighed, but nodded as you sat up on the couch. It's not like you didn’t like him, he was nice! He’s just- very awkward. Very, very awkward. So much that it hurt whenever the two of you talked to someone together.

        “Yeah… not much to do, ya’know?” You said half heartedly as you shrugged your shoulders. You weren’t in the mood for talking. Dale perked up at this. Great, guess you’re socializing after all.

“Well… do you wanna, maybe, hang out..?” Dale asked, creeping out of his bedroom some more. “There’s this new ga-”

“Nope, sorry! Just remembered I… left something! In the Laundromat! Sorrygottagobye-!” You exclaimed, quickly rushing out the front door again to avoid doing something with Dale. Wow, that sounds a lot more mean now that you think about it. But it’s too late now, so you shrug as you make your way down the stairs, in case Dale was still somehow watching you leave.

Well… guess you’re doing this now. You stretched your arms as you made your way down the steps. Maybe you could take a walk through central park? The weather was nice enough, but to be fair it was always nice. But what if Dale was watching out the window…? But then again, he didn't seem like the kind of guy to do that.

Opening the door leading to the alleyway, you couldn't help but feel just a little bad for the guy. It's not like he could help how awkward he is! But... That didn't mean you wanted to deal with it.

[imaginespazzi]

Niviii, bestie, how are you? Hope life’s treating you well, and especially as well as you treated us with part 6!

As always, my thoughts:

Was waiting on when Katie would make an appearance again and you did not disappoint! Someone needed to finally talk some sense cause god knows we were getting nowhere leaving it all to those two dumb gay idiots (affectionate) to figure it out.

But for real, I loved this scene between mother and daughter and hearing others acknowledge that the bond between them was always just different. More. Katie’s like “honey please, it was too obvious”.

As always, I love when real events bleed into the story so absolutely loved draft night getting incorporated here. I could feel the tension as Paige inched closer and closer to Azzi on the carpet like oof the writing was- *chef’s kiss*.

Then them escaping to finally get that moment alone together again and Azzi finally giving in 🥹. Also, their dramatic ass goodbye being only two weeks or so prior to this LOL. Were just absolutely kidding themselves thinking they could really survive staying away from each other.

You already know how I feel about a Drew cameo!! Pleassseee, the whole “you are gonna get married right?” killed me in the best way. He will accept no other outcome, that’s his pookie for life and P will absolutely not mess that up for him again!

The UCLA team finally welcoming P with open arms- we really have come so far.

But omg this whole scene – them finally getting to have the date. What dreams are made of. But P was so done with Azzi here lmao, the NBA quip (tbh, Azzi definitely has a case cause like how is she meant to know that games start late October and not early October?! Like ntm on pookie now 😩). And then the stray that P’s Lebron posters caught – very valid.

For real though, that scene was so healing after everything we’ve all been through with this fic 😌. And P flying all the way to Cali during school – DOWN BAD.

And then just when I thought you’d written my favourite fluff scene, you go ahead and write the dancing in the snow scene.

I don’t even really have much more to add for that specific scene because I wouldn’t be able to do it justice. Just know that dancing in the snow/kissing in the rain scenes have my whole heart and this was no exception.

Then the final scene. I was actually wondering whether you would have Azzi winning the natty because I didn’t know if you could do that to UConn, even if just in a fic, but I appreciate you doing it for the plot (I know it must have killed you a lil writing them losing- and NOT EVEN MAKING IT TO THE NATTY GAME) 😭.

But it was only fitting that we got Paige in Azzi’s jersey this time around (side note: something I badly need to see irl at some point).

And the ending – THE ENDING – look, that may also be how I’ve imagined next season panning out irl (the kiss) but obviously with them both on the court… and since I know there’s almost no chance it would actually happen, I’m glad we got to live it out here.

What’s next?

First of all, I can’t believe we’re coming to the end, like from one offhanded comment about “what if Azzi had chosen UCLA?” being my roman empire to this? Insane.

Not that I had a single doubt but whatever expectations I had coming into this, trust, you more than exceeded every. single. one.

I’ll prolly go on a much longer thank you after the last chapter or epilogue so I’ll save it for then!

But yeah, in terms of what’s next, imma leave it to you, Nivi.

The “or so she hopes” at the end has me a little worried, but remember “everything changes, except the ending” and you did promise us a happy ending 😌.

Favourite lines:

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks.

Bonus (also because this is how I want it to play out irl next season when they win the natty lmao): 

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless. 

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Alternate lyric/song (I fucking love arms tho, that song just fits this entire fic so perfectly):

In the darkest night hour, I search through the crowd. Your face is all that I see, I’ll give you (I've given you) everything, baby, love me lights out.

Side note: I was a little high when I first read part 6, and it was an experience (in the best way)!!!

As always, thank you. You already know.

Much love,

-🙋‍♀️

Bestieeeee, I'm good love, thanks for asking and I hope you're good too! Can you believe I finally wrote a chapter without breaking your heart?

If we left it up to Paige and Azzi, this fic would end up running in circles for another 10 chapters but thank god for Katie and common sense. I really love Katie and Azzi's relationship and she felt the perfect person to make Azzi see sense

The draft scene is probably my favorite scene to have written throughout this whole series, an accumulation of everything else and I'm so glad you liked it because I wanted to do the confession justice and I hope I did

LMAO okay so I was fully gonna drag it out a little longer cause 2 weeks is so short but a) I wanted to include the draft and b) let's be honest these idiots definitely are the kind people to only make a dramatic goodbye last barely 2 weeks

I love Drew so much so you know I had to add him in here but yeah that's their no.1 supporter and you best believe he will drag them to the aisle if he needs too

I threw in that UCLA team line for you, I knew you'd appreciate the growth!

Even though I've been teasing my anons with sadness for most of this fic, the date recreation was always gonna happen from the minute I wrote the call lol.

Honestly as much as I love writing angst!Pazzi and fluff!Pazzi, bickering!Pazzi is my favorite and I just had to add that in

I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED THE SNOW SCENE. It truly adds nothing to the plot but it popped into my head and I was like fuck it, the people deserve their dance in the snow moment lol

You know me too well. It physically hurt to write UConn losing (at least they'd already won in this universe) but for the plot, and because it's Azzi, with a heavy heart, I wrote another team winning it all.

I put all my hopes and dreams for next season into that ending and yeah look it's not happening, but life imitates art right? Why not manifest?

I have to go back and find your ask because man I can't believe we've come this far. WE DID IT BESTIE! We lived your roman empire out just a little bit and there's just a little bit left to go!

Alright, there's maybe just a little bit more turbulence to come but I think you're gonna like the actual ending I have planned (you have to or I will actually cry)

XO!! Fantastic song choice!

LMAO I love that for you babes! And thank you for always, always having such a detailed review for me. They mean the world to me and I appreciate it so much. Til next time my love <3

[ilreleonewikia13]

Before you read, I wrote the first draft of this post in October, then I resumed it in April, but then in May I decided to heavily re-edit it when I noticed the massive grammatical errors that I left. So the version you will read is quite changed from its original form. Starting with the decision to split it into more chapters and not in a single piece as I did before. I even tried to add more characterization to some events as I noticed that maybe I rushed up some important things, cause when I wrote this "fanfic that is not a fanfic" I didn't have a clear vision of the events in their complexity. Some parts were very detailed and explained well, while other parts are only briefly mentioned. As I re-edit it I tried to make everything more cohesive and pleasing to read. For this reason, unlike the first version, this post will only be about the disclaimers and the introduction of my "fanfiction not fanfiction", as the whole "story" will be published on AO3. As I'm writing this I've already posted 2 of the 5 parts, and right now I'm working on the editing of the 3th chapter.

The Doom in Our Blood Comes Back - the Fanfic of a Fanfic

INTRODUCTION TO THE MANUSCRIPT: THE CHRONICLES OF TWO DRAGONS

TRIUMPHS AND DEFEAT

THE CONQUEST OF DORNE

RUBIES AND IRON

When do you start to realize that a fanfiction stops being just a fanfiction and becomes a real work of entertainment?

For me it's when reading it makes you want to theorize about it as if it were a real book and even before it is finished: this is what happened to me with "The Blacks and the Greens" by @sweetestpopcorn a fanfiction (which almost every fan who started watching the series has read if like me you went looking for Daemyra fanfics on AO3 as soon as it started) that tells the story of the Dance of Dragons starting with the idea that Daemon and Rhaenyra got married as soon as their "affair" was discovered, thus an AU of the original plot leading to a completely different scale of events from the original plot of the series/book.

This story, still in progress (at the exact moment I’m writing this post it arrived “just” at its 170th chapter) has gripped me so much this past month that my brain convinced me that this was the real canon story and made me completely forget about the existence of the TV series: so if you are interested to read this AU I suggest you read the original fic, even if it’s a little bit long cause it’s totally worth it.

I thought about writing an actual story about these ideas I had but then changed my mind. It didn't make sense to write about one idea when I already had a bigger story planned that wasn't finished yet.

As I said before, the story from where I take inspiration is only halfway done and things might change a lot in the upcoming chapters as I write this post. This means that the characters I'll talk about in this headcanon might have died to are going to because I don't control the story, the author does.

As I write this post, my idea for "this story" went in a totally different direction than what the original author intended. It became its own separate version of the Blacks and the Greens, with a different set of rules and logic.

I am a big fan of the Black side in the civil war and like happy endings.  I wanted Helaena to be happy with her kids and for Rhaenyra to rule the Seven Kingdoms with her husband and raise her five children. In my imagination, the Greens give up quickly and Rhaenyra becomes the Queen without any fighting. She brings both sides together and makes the dynasty stronger.

This means that in this universe almost all of the Targaryen family is still alive and because the war didn't last too much the finance of the kingdom is not significantly damaged making the reign of the Black Queen very prosperous and full of innovations, technically and artistically speaking, making for them more effortless to conquest Dorn and made Westeros finally United.

The first idea for this story was to talk about Rhaenyra and Daemon's five children and their fun experiences instead of just focusing on Rhaenyra and Daemon's relationship, which is already the main focus of The Blacks and The Greens.

When I was reading the fanfic for the first time, I knew that liked Baela the most because of her personality: plus in my head, she's like a female version of Daemon for this reason, I decided to use her as the main character in my story.

She, in my mind, had the right characteristic to be our main POV, being, in my head, the “middle child” of the group - so the one who is between Aegon and Viserys (the boys) and Rhaena and Visenya (the girls) - and that belong to both of the two worlds, the feminine and the masculine, and have both these sides with her.  She, in my fantasy, will spend a lot of time with her two brothers, with whom she will share a very strong bond as a very strong rivalry for the attention of their father; with the girls too she will have a special relationship. Especially with Rhaena who is her twin, who is, in some way, her opposite and her complementary, especially in the way they decide to express their femininity over the years.  I think that in the Book-canon, Baela looks more masculine than what it was depicted in The Blacks and the Greens, and because this headcanon is heavily inspired by that fanfic, I decided to follow this vision more than the canon one. 

In this universe, she dresses like a combination of Queen Visenya, whom Baela really likes, and Queen Rhaenys. Baela is both strong and sensual like her mother Rhaenyra. She wears bright colors like red and loves jewelry.

I thought about what clothes would look good on her at the court. I imagined she would like dresses that were fun and sexy, with low necklines and tight bodices. These dresses would be like armor to her and would have lots of beads on them. I got ideas from the outfits worn by Anne Boleyn in the show The Tudors, which I really like.

She likes to show she is comfortable with her sexuality, without feeling ashamed for having fun with men as she thinks that both women and men should be able to act in the same way.  Besides her regular clothes, I also see her wearing softer and masculine tunics as she trains, showing how much she loves the culture of the East continents. Even though she doesn't like to study, Baela enjoys reading High Valyrian poems and listening to Lysene music, as she prefers to sing over playing it. I can imagine her spending time flying and staying with her dragon more than her siblings. She will become very fond of her dragon, Moondancer.  She will also train with her brothers with the sword and be very good at it.

Because Baela became a such strong and intense character in my mind, I started to think that she needed an equally strong and enigmatic counterpart that matched it, but at the same time opposed it and gave it a hard time: or in reality the opposite, that is someone she could challenge and confront, someone equally crazy and reckless, but by the opposite and darker energy. 

And so that at any moment this post headcanon "The Blacks and the Greens" has become somehow a story focused on Baela and Aemond, or at least with a particular focus on the relationship and the clashes between these two. 

Let me make it clear that the choice to "pair" these two characters were not based on a double interpretation of the original story, which clearly shows a strong dislike for Aemond and the Greens in general. The decision to highlight Aemond's character was solely influenced by the irresistible charm of Ewan Mitchell, the actor who played the role in the television adaption, which unfortunately clouded my judgment. To be absolutely clear, I have never felt any form of empathy towards him during my entire fanfiction journey, except for some mere pity.

There were multiple factors that led me to spare the lives of Aemond and Aegon, as I believed it would be more gratifying to let them suffer as they experienced the consequences of all the actions that they made thought the first half of The Blacks and the Greens and the accompanying disgrace of their defeat, rather than simply executing them on the spot.

In this headcanon, Aemond will undergo significant transformations, causing a profound shift in his mentality and character due to experiencing a series of intense and traumatic events. As a result, this version of Aemond will differ significantly from both the Bookcanon and the Blacks and the Greens.  The decision was serendipitously influenced by reading a particular sentence in the fanfic where the detestable Aemond ridicules Daemon for allowing Rhaenyra to mistreat him and become submissive to his sister, referring to him as a "slut." Aemond expresses his reluctance to ever allow a woman to control him as his uncle did.

Well, these two simple sentences made me decide that I need to create my own headcanon where Aemond would become the exact thing that he always derided his uncle for: a "loser" who would be bossed around by all the women in his life. And not only command but as a great misogynistic bastard who was, after touching the bottom of the funds, it would be a woman to save him and put him on track, making him feel indebted to her. 

So this is how this literary experiment was born.   

A simple and very banal enemies-to-lovers story with A LOT of drama and a bunch of dragons, but that needs the perfect setting to work, for this reason, most of the work I did was on figuring out how to set the side character and the background events in a way that could serve my goal.

As I specified many times in this exaggeratedly verbose disclaimer and in the tags this is not actual fanfic, I will not so use a prostatic style like many other stories in this platform, still, I want my readers to have a pleasing experience while reading this work, the result of a very elaborate mental wank and my pressing need to take my mind off my real duties, so I decided to write the whole thing as if it were a cross between historical writing and the introduction to a Greek tragedy. 

Imagine, just like in Fire and Blood, that an obviously bored scholar set out to write the memoirs of Rhaenyra and her deeds; as I tried to make up this story I even tried to figure out the timeline of our characters' birth, some of them are the canon ones used in the books, while the others are the ones I tried to calculate trying to use some mathematics and the information that the writer give us on her fic. This means that it's not very precise, but I hope it's remotely accurate.

Aemond= 110

Daeron =114

Addam=114

Alyn=115

Larra= 115

Aegon III = 118

Viserys = 119

Daenaera = 120

Baela and Rhaena =121

Visenya= 125

Jaehaerys and Jaehaera = 123

Maelor = 127

Baelor = 130