#its technically just a blog so people on ao3 can find me..... and place where i can post random shit about fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

londonfoginacup · 2 years ago

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A New Larrie’s Guide to Tumblr

A probably incomprehensible, certainly incomplete list of what you need to know; whether you’re coming from a different platform or discovering Larry for the first time.

My credentials

Hello! I’m Emmu. I’ve had tumblr since… 2008? Maybe 2009. I moved over from deviantArt and used Tumblr as a personal art blog for many years. I joined the One Direction fandom in 2014, so my 1D blog has 8+ years at this point. That being said, I will get on my soapbox a bit during this. Please excuse me, I’m quite passionate about cultivating a happy and healthy fandom.

What makes Tumblr different

The biggest thing that makes Tumblr, as a site, different from Twitter or Instagram is the rejection of algorithms. The “following” tab on your dashboard is in chronological order (and if it isn’t, you can – and should – change that), and the “for you” tab is both a recent feature and rarely used. Tumblr has very little algorithm, and the algorithm they have isn’t very good. It means that you’ll get the most god awful ads you’ve ever seen on this site, because they don’t utilize your data well. And that’s to your advantage.

Tumblr is a great place because you can curate what you see more than other social media. The people that you choose to follow are the only people that you see on your dash (unless you choose to follow tags, which I guess is an option? @lululawrence says “it is and it used to not do anything unless you went to the search page and then it would like autofill your followed tags options, but NOW they take those followed tags and plop them on your dash... SOMETIMES. usually only on mobile. but if there's only one new post in the tag, it shows you that post OVER. AND OVER. AND OVER AGAIN. IT'S SUPER ANNOYING ACTUALLY. SO I STOPPED FOLLOWING TAGS. lol anyway”).

So, the site is in chronological order. This is its biggest selling point.

There is also the opportunity for long posts. Masterposts. Things that are searchable without having to read through pages of screenshots or condensed twitter threads. You can write a whole lot more without worrying about character limit. People publish whole fics on here (I suggest ao3 for that, but tumblr is technically an option!).

Another important thing to know about tumblr is that the archives on tumblr run deep. There are newer larries here, and a lot of them, but you can also find older larries. People whose 1D blogs go back to 2010 or 2011. You can dive into the archives and read firsthand accounts of what was happening with One Direction or larry at that very time. Doing a bit of research means you find cute fetus pictures of the boys, but also you’re able to figure out for yourself whether something actually happened. Rumors always seem to spread quite easily and fandom memory always seems impossibly short, but here on tumblr you’re able to find out for yourself. That means the next time you hear about how xyz thing happened a long time ago, check out some of those archives and see what you can find.

Also, my personal favorite part of tumblr is that old posts are just as valid as new posts. Find a masterpost about RBB and SBB from 2015? Go ahead and reblog that; bring it back to the circulating dash. People will love that. Find a fanartist that you really like? Search through their tags, reblog anything you want. It’s not considered stalking or weird in any way. We love bringing back old posts here. Tumblr is a website where you’re not meant to just talk about the present.

The cultural difference between Tumblr and Twitter

Speaking of the ways that tumblr and twitter are different, let’s talk for a moment about the 1D fandom in particular.

I’ve held this theory for a while that the twitter (and instagram) algorithm is fracturing the fandom. Because twitter is so dependent on the algorithm, people are more likely to split apart and join smaller and smaller communities based on smaller, more specific opinions. Tumblr, being a place where you don’t just get a post on your dash because someone else liked it, doesn’t have those smaller cliques. There are larries, and there are antis.

(if you get really in the weeds, there are also larry shippers [who don’t believe they’re together but like to read it in fic], and houis [who think they were together but broke up], but I just don’t hear about them as much).

While I do occasionally hear about blouies on my dash, for the most part this is a culture that exists primarily on other sites.

On another note, because tumblr doesn’t have that handy algorithm, we have to work to make it a more active space. Likes don’t do anything here for anyone other than you, and it doesn’t really change anything about what you’ll see on your dash. Think of them more like the bookmark setting on twitter or instagram. Reblogs are necessary to get anything spread. Anything that you enjoy, or that looks interesting for any reason? Reblog it! That’s the only way other people will see it! And leave a happy comment in the tags if you’ve got one (more on that later).

And, while lurkers do exist in this fandom (and we love them), it’s important to get an icon and blog header that make you look like a real person. People on tumblr have long been in the habit of blocking shady blogs, mostly because of a bot problem, so if you want to lurk, you have to look like a lurker. Maybe reblog a post or two to establish yourself, and make sure you don’t accidentally look like an icon-less bot posing as a sugar daddy.

How to set up your account

Okay, so you’ve got a tumblr. Let’s take a minute to fix up the settings so that you’re not getting, well, the worst version of the site.

My advice is to start by going into your dashboard preferences and:

Turn off the best stuff first (it’ll just show you things you’ve already seen)

Turn off “include stuff in your orbit” (you’ll see terrible posts that are mostly NOT in your orbit)

Turn off “Included based on your likes” (again, you’ll see posts you hate)

Turn off “shorten long posts”. It’s a ridiculous setting that, like many things on tumblr, had potential but was rolled out in an incredibly unhelpful and user unfriendly way.

Once you’ve got that squared away, go into filtering and block any tags and content you don’t like, as that is always proper fandom etiquette. Not seeing things you don’t like is your responsibility, not the responsibility of the person posting them. I personally suggest adding the topics you don’t want to see to both the content list and the filtered tags list, as that gives a much better likelihood of posts that are particularly unsavory for you getting caught by the filters. Please also note this might need to be done on both desktop and the app separately as, depending on where tumblr is at the moment, these filters do not always carry over from one application to the other.

Now scroll down to tumblr labs. These are their experimental things. Some are good! Some are very bad. They do change, though, so this might get out of date pretty fast.

Personally, I enabled fast queue

And disabled everything else

ALSO, an important note, if you are using the apple app, you need to go in and turn off the adult content filter. No idea offhand where that is, but it means posts that include tags like “mine” and “girl” are blocked. It’s ridiculous.

Who to follow and how to find them

So, you’ve got a new tumblr and need people to follow. This makes sense! To really fill up your dash, I’d suggest the following

Find one person you like. There’s a good chance you know at least someone from twitter who also has a tumblr, so you can start there. If you’re not from twitter, or are looking to start fresh, you can dive into the search function (I’ve never tried finding someone this way myself, but searching larry stylinson or something similar would probably get you started)

Find the people they reblog from and check out each of their blogs! Follow people that make you happy

Follow some update accounts! Thinking of some off the top of my head, there’s @HLUpdate, @Stylesnews, @dailytomlinson, @HLDailyUpdate, or @neilswaterbottles (there’s definitely more though).

Follow some fanart or fic rec accounts!

I’d always suggest @1d-fanart or @hlcreators for art.

For fic, you could check out @hlficlibrary, @ficsyoumayhavemissed, or @thelarriefics.

Or, recurring fic fests! @onedirectionbigbang or @wordplayfics, which happen every year.

And if you end up not enjoying someone you’ve followed? Unfollow them! It’ll make you happier.

How to interact with posts

Tumblr is all about tags. Do you have a comment or thought? Reblog a post and say your thought in the tags. That way anyone you follow will see it, and the person who made the post will see it. This way a post doesn’t end up with a lot of cluttery additions that don’t mean a lot to the average person reblogging it, but if you browse the tags of posts you’ll find lots of interesting things. Tags can be used to keep track of things, too, of course — some people tag all pictures with who’s in them, or tag art or fic with tags that mean they can find them again. Tags are versatile! But reblog, don’t just like, and tag! The more you interact, the happier content creators are!

What not to do

Don’t repost. If you see something you like on tumblr, reblog it. Even if it’s a really old piece of fanart (like circa 2011). Reblog that old post! Reposting means people don’t get credit, and it doesn’t link back to them. That’s not cool, and in the long term makes fandom less happy.

How to cultivate a happy and healthy fandom

Send happy anons! Ask how people are doing, do question memes, say how much you loved fic/art/edits, etc.

Reblog art. Reblog fic. Reblog what makes you laugh. The more you reblog, the more other people see, the more the fandom moves! Content creators just want their things seen; every time you reblog, their phone gets that little notification and you’ve given someone a bit of happiness.

Unfollow people who annoy you. Follow people who make you happy!

If someone has a take about 1D that you don’t agree with, don’t tell them or send them argumentative anons. Find people who will agree with you, and complain to them privately. Or make your own post, not shading anyone, just presenting your own opinion and theories!

Remember that everyone is a real person. Cut them some slack when you find them being annoying. But also, unfollow. Curate your dash.

#I made this like #in the spring? or summer #and then felt like it was too pretentious to post lmao #anyway maybe this will help someone!#foggy essays #that's a tag that WILL have more in it eventually #once i write my essay about Carolina #...which i was supposed to do back when it first came out lmao

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jennagrinsoverml · 4 years ago

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ML Fic Recs - AUs

Last week was crazy and I didn’t get around to posting, but now I’m back with your weekly rec list. As usual, I’m trying to rec fics that readers are less likely to have read. (I base that off of kudos on AO3. The general rule is fics under 1000 kudos, but usually I try to keep it under 500!) You can find my other rec lists on my blog at #jennarecsml

If you enjoy these, please reblog so more readers can find these awesome fics!

I love the what ifs of taking are characters and changing something--or everything!--of their circumstances. What if Adrien never went to school? What if soulmates were real? What if there weren’t miraculous? There are so many ways things could have gone differently and I love these explorations. Here are some of my favourite alternate universes!

like poles of a magnet by @rosekasa

ladybug spat her blood at chat noir. invincibility was only granted to the ladybug and black cat that worked together. not even the miraculous cure could heal them, otherwise.

(or, five times they didn't hate each other, and one time it was love).

Multi-chapter. Enemies AU. The enemies dynamic here is AMAZING!! Adrien is so in character even when he’s a “bad guy”, and the backstory of how he ended up working with Hawkmoth is perfect. (Also, how is Gabriel even worse??) I love the way the identities are played with, and especially the repercussions of Chat working for Hawkmoth on what Adrien is allowed to do.

I Love You To Pieces by marichatting

Marinette's wrist is blank. She knows that one day, she will kiss her soulmate for the first time, and her soulmate tattoo will appear on her wrist, but how is she supposed to wait patiently for that day to come?

She is dying to know whether or not Adrien is her soulmate. Meanwhile, a certain cat has the same burning question about Ladybug.

One-shot. Soulmates AU. This is so freaking sweet, I can’t even. I love when an author takes the rules of the AU and thinks through how they might play out with our characters and their dynamic, and that’s what we have here. Love the interaction between the soulmate kiss and secret identities!

A Series of Meets: Postcards by @damagectrlwrites

When Adrien moves into his first flat, he discovers postcards already in his mail box addressed to someone none of the neighbors seem to know. The postcards come from a young woman traveling the world for a few months named 'M' and her diligent, once a week cards make Adrien decide to hold on to them in hopes of delivering them to the correct receiver. However, with each postcard he gets, he learns more and more about 'M' and soon finds himself falling for the postcard's mysterious writer.

One-shot. No powers/Never met AU. Okay, technically this is a chapter in a collection of AU one-shots, but it deserves individual attention. I loved the mystery of this one, and watching Adrien slowly fall for someone he’s never even met. I don’t want to give away too much with this one, but when I finished reading it the first time I had to go back and give it another read to see how everything connected.

Footsteps by @sariahsue

"I'm not sneaking!" Marinette blurted out as soon as she saw him. She noticed three things instantly. He was blond. He was holding his hands around his eyes like binoculars, and he was in the nicest tuxedo she had ever seen.

(Marinette’s about to get married to her soulmate, a man she’s never met before. Too bad she meets that cute groomsman in the hallway first.)

One-shot. Soulmates AU. This is ridiculously, impossibly sweet. I love how even in a world where they’ve never met and things are clearly very different (marrying someone you’ve never met??), they’re still so very recognizable as themselves. I love this.

A Series of Meets: Reach by @damagectrlwrites

Paris is safe, except from the rivalry of its two superhero guardians: Ladybug and Chat Noir. Since they were teenagers, the two have raced around Paris, trying to out do-good each other.

After Chat Noir saves a bus of people from falling into the Seine before Ladybug can even get there, Adrien is in high spirits. He helps a young woman reach some chips high on a shelf, kicking off a friendly conversation that ends with a coffee date.

It’s a terrible day for Marinette. First she had a hectic day at work, then Chat Noir gets all the praise for saving a bus of people, and then she nearly topples over trying to reach some chips. At the very least, a nice guy helps her and asks her to coffee. Surely, things will get better, right?

One-shot. Enemies/Never met AU. Okay, technically this is a chapter in a collection of AU one-shots, but it deserves individual attention. This one is absolutely amazing and hilarious and YOU NEED TO READ IT!! Ladybug and Chat Noir are superhero rivals, always trying to outdo each other, and being annoyed at the other. Marinette and Adrien get a meet-cute and fall in love. The juxtaposition is perfect and ridiculous and THAT IDENTITY REVEAL OMG.

The Soul System by @peppermint-shamrock

A series of fics taking place in the same soulmate AU, where soulmates experience an intense feeling of connection and recognition upon first contact - and only first contact. With no lasting proof beyond memories, things don't always go smoothly.

Series. Soulmates AU. This one is full of angst and heartbreak, but it’s so good. The worldbuilding is phenomenal. This is one where the author has really thought through the consequences of the alternate world, and then figured out how to inflict those on our canon dynamics in such a way that they inflict maximum hurt. Ladybug and Chat Noir are soulmates, but Marinette’s in love with someone else. Someone who already has a soulmate.

lost without the shape of your heart by @beaubcxton

“I heard you today at the coffee shop.” Ladybug whispered, and noticed the way he stiffened immediately. “Don't worry, I didn't figure out who you were but I saw the back of your head as you left.”

“Oh.” He pulled away then, and offered her a wobbling charming smile. “You didn't happen to hear anything I said, did you?”

Four times Marinette stumbles onto the boy behind the mask, and the one time she meets him.

One-shot. Never met AU. This is such beautiful ladynoir, and I love how that relationship grows and deepens. Meanwhile, of course, they’ve never met as civilians, but there’s nothing stopping them from recognizing each other. The ending absolutely sent me.

The following fics is amazing and absolutely worth reading, but does feature sexual content, so minors beware.

Overheard by @ghostlyhamburger

Marinette and Adrien are roommates. Adrien overhears some odd sounds from Marinette's room.

Rated E. Multi-chapter. Roommates/Housemates AU. This is really hot and sweet, and then the angst hammer comes in. I just really enjoyed the entire thing, watching these two be idiots and seeing how the misunderstandings arise.

#miraculous ladybug #fic recs #ml fic recs #ml fic rec #ml love square #ml lovesquare #love square #ladynoir #adrienette #adrinette #jennarecsml

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gyakutengagotoku · 3 years ago

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Oh God I forgot it was Apollo Justice's 15th Anniversary + blog updates

So, uh... hey, guys. Sorry for the delays. I just remembered I had some cool stuff to share and today seems like a good enough day to drop by again.

Everyone knows I have only the most impeccable timing by being absent when I need to be.

Jokes aside, it's kinda awkward of an update post this time because I bring both good news and bad news.

The bad news is: I hate this site and how it sucks when I or anyone looking at my blog wants to find old archive posts. I hate this site even more now that they've changed the formatting and suddenly I can't just copy paste from the text files I've been using for this blog's project.

So I wanna move, but my blogspot site hasn't been updated in a couple years by now. I still need to figure out how I'm gonna port over this entire blog's archives, so my apologies that I don't have any particular updates on this, despite already having the next part ready. God, I hate tumblr.

BUT the good news is: I've updated my Patreon Page. I've decided to take off the translation commissions since not many people would be coming to me for bulk translations and stuff anyway, and definitely not for $3-5 a post. Instead, I want to experiment with writing commissions. I have an original story in the works, inspired by my childhood imagination, where I plan to make it a fan collaboration as well. If people are willing to donate, I will reserve special rights to ya'll to help contribute to this story.

I'm still putting things together atm, but the brief plot synopsis is thus:

A pair of Japanese international students arrive to meet their host living in a small town near San Francisco and will be staying with her for the entirety of their university stay. However, their simple introduction to American life is cut short when a puzzling series of paranormal murders take place wherever they go. As it turns out, their host is a specialized Arbiter of Death - one who judges the most dangerous, corrupted souls of the recently deceased - and this is business as usual for her. However, not everything seems to be going as it should in the Underworld. And to top it all off, she has to be caretaker for a family of primordial Godlike alien dogs who bring her no end of frustrations.

Aside from the main cast, some key plot points, and major themes being set in stone already, the rest of the story is open to readers to decide what direction it may take, what mysteries may develop over its course, and what characters, settings, and other concepts will appear. Please understand, though, that I won't be taking requests to put official or copyrighted content from real franchises, so don't ask for a Batman-meets-Phoenix-Wright crossover or anything. I'm technically making money off of this and I don't want to be sued.

I will be posting the prologue chapter to this on my AO3 shortly. Chapter 1 is in the works and isn't open to requests, but we'll see for later chapters.

In the meantime, I will try to update my blogspot site to get it ready, so I can return to my main project.

Oh, and before I forget again: Happy 15th Anniversary, Apollo Justice.

This has been Rubia Ryu the Top Pomeranian.

#blog updates #gsvsaa #patreon #ruby: gift of the dogs (pending title)

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do-a-reference-properly · 5 years ago

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AO3′s users alert! Unauthorised fanworks copying

26/09/2019. Important update on this mess: we found a way to delete fanworks via take down request to the hosting provider. Please check it here https://do-a-reference-properly.tumblr.com/post/187926459079/finally-some-good-news

Dear AO3 users,

We would like to bring your attention to an ugly situation with unauthorized copying of works posted on AO3.

A lot of works from AO3 have been copied to fanfics.me (we’ll call this site FFM for brevity’s sake) and are still being copied right now, either:

— automatically by a code specifically created by FFM’s owner for this purpose, or

— by unaware or unscrupulous FFM’s users via semi-automatic method (by inserting a link to a work from AO3 into a web-worm on FFM).

All works from AO3 — with a few exceptions (I’ll elaborate on this below) — can end up on FFM without authors even noticing. Even fanarts or podfics.

FFM doesn't comply with DMCA which means that such reposts endanger fanworks' creators in case the copyright holder demands to delete the fanwork.

Authors of the copied works do not have any control over them; if the work is edited it won’t be updated on FFM until someone manually updates it.

Additionally FFM’s owner makes money out of reposted free fanworks from numerous Google and Yandex ads on each and every FFM’s page by having people go to this site when searching for fics on Google etc. So we recommend using an Ads Blocker when visiting this site in order to prevent the owner from earning more. Ghostery or Adblock Plus work just fine, but you can use any other Ads Blocker that is convenient to you.

Oftentimes FFM even shows up before the original post with the work on Google search results.

The owner’s e-mail: [email protected].

The owner at AO3.

We are trying to bring AO3’s users attention to this situation and help authors with taking their works down from FFM.

Briefly about the website and its owner

Let me start from the very beginning as it will bring into the light the nature of FFM and give a good example of its owner characteristic behavior.

At first, some person with nickname Refery created FFM as a web archive where authors — mostly from Harry Potter fandom — could publish their fanworks.

Time passed, the site grew and added some features (blogs, pre-moderation and etc.), and all was good and well up till the moment when Refery decided that it would be a great idea to copy to FFM fanworks published on other Russian fanfiction archives — among them from the biggest and most known site ficbook — without asking authors for permission. Even those works that had “Ask me before posting the story somewhere else” mentioned in its text or summary were copied.

For some time nobody noticed, but when finally and inevitably this came out the authors were outraged. It took a lot of time to finally persuade Refery to at least not to copy fanworks bearing a special tag “Уточнять у автора” (Ask the author first).

But after some time Refery — without giving any notice — violated his own promise and resumed copying to FFM fanworks that had the agreed upon tag. The authors complained again, so very reluctantly and after many painful discussions this feature was reinstalled.

So FFM has been notoriously known, mostly amongst Russian fandom, for claims on re-posting fanworks without the consent of the authors.

We're mentioning this situation just to give you a detailed portrait of a person we are dealing with here.

Not only fanworks are copied to this website, but original works, too. Even those which were already published. There were all 7 of Harry Potter novels (both original text and translation), The Hobbit: There and Back Again (translation) and Vorkosigan Saga (translation) available for everybody to read and download. They were taken down only recently due to the attention this whole situation had drawn, but nothing ever goes away once it’s posted online and you can access the proof via Internet Wayback machine. We know for a fact there are other books on FFM and some actions have been taken in this regard, but still it takes time to find published books on this site.

Recently Refery decided that Russian archives are not enough for him and started copying all fanworks into FFM without any permission from the authors from numerous sites, like AO3, fanfiction.net, fictionpress.com, fanfiktion.de and likely other web-archives.

Moreover, the authors of these works can not delete their works from FFM and/or manage them. The site is in Russian only and, hence, we strongly believe that non-Russian speaking authors even do not know that their works are reposted somewhere else.

As a Russian fan-community, we have tried to stop such activity of FFM many times; however, we have not been successful in achieving our goal completely. Our most recent achievement is that the FFM’s owner implemented the "Don't copy to another site" tag created specifically for AO3 (here is the link to FFM’s owner post on his personal blog regarding this tag. Please use Ads Blocker!). This tag should be added to each work presented on AO3 in case the author does not want their works to be copied to FFM.

We are of the opinion that no work should be taken without permission in the first place, but this tag is all we’ve got.

Please note that it seems that some time ago there was similar case of unauthorized copying with other site. Please check this link, they give useful advice.

How to prevent copying from AO3

If you check AO3 you may notice that "Don't copy to another site" tag has hugely emerged in the recent weeks, but mostly amongst Russian users and there is a good reason for this: the owner of FFM announced this tag only in Russian and only on his private blog, so naturally there is no way for non-Russian speaking AO3 users to know about this — albeit non-satisfactory — solution.

There are no guaranties that the FFM’s owner won’t change the rules again as has already happened numerous times before (few examples we described above) and that works with this tag won’t be reposted in the future, but for now it’s the only quick and working solution besides making your works visible only to registered users, which is not ideal.

This situation is highly unpleasant, but we ask you not to delete your works from AO3, because if the work is deleted from AO3 it will be nearly impossible to delete it from FFM: we won't be able to refresh it manually and remove the text.

Please note that adding this tag won’t work for texts that have already been copied. Only users who have accounts at FFM will be able to delete them. Each work needs to be deleted manually.

However, the Russian fandom — except for the owner of FFM — strongly condemns reposts without the consent of the author, so feel free to contact our volunteers (through DM or Ask on our tumblr page) providing the links to the works stolen from AO3, so we could delete them for you.

Unfortunately, it is not possible to cover all authors and works manually. So, we contacted AO3’ Technical Team with the aim to bring their attention to this situation and inform about it all AO3 users, and hope that AO3 team will find a general solution to resolve this problem, possibly, in collaboration with the AO3 lawyers.

We are trying to warn as many authors as possible and recently started spreading this information via comments on AO3; but considering the number of works copied to FFM informing all authors will take considerable time, and we can easily miss someone, especially since the copying is still in progress and new works from AO3 are appearing on FFM every day.

Please help us spread the word!

We tried to make a comprehensive FAQ about this. Feel free to ask if anything is unclear!

FAQ

Q: Can I check if my work was copied to FFM?

A: Yes, you can.

FFM makes money on Google and Yandex ads, so we recommend turning on the Ads Blocker of your choice before visiting this site.

Please follow this link, insert the title of your work or your AO3/other web-archive nickname into the field containing the words "insert-title-nickname" and hit "Искать" (Search).

For works rated Mature or Explicit you will be able to see only the caption "Текст произведения доступен только зарегистрированным пользователям старше 18 лет" ("The text of the work is available only to registered users over 18 years old"), but FFM users are able to read and download the story.

Q: My work from AO3 was copied. How can I take it down?

A: First of all add the tag "Don't copy to another site" (without “ “) to the stories you want to be taken down.

Actually we would recommend adding this tag to all the works you don't want to be copied.

Contact one of our volunteers (through DM or Ask on our tumblr page) providing links to your works or send an e-mail with your deletion request directly to the FFM owner at [email protected] or at AO3.

There is a third option: to register on FFM and delete the work yourself by hitting the refresh button, but considering that the site is in Russian we do not think it will be very convenient to those who do not speak Russian language.

Q: I got the message that my work has been deleted. How can I check if it is true?

A: You can go to FFM, search for you work, click on its title and scroll down.

After the summary there is a field that should look like this for those fics that have been deleted.

Basically it says that the author of this particular work has forbidden its copying and that only the information on its title, author’s nickname, rating, pairings, summary and the link to original post on AO3 are available.

For works that are still available on FFM this field looks like this (if the work is open for non-registered users).

Q: My work copied from AO3 was deleted, but FFM still shows some information on it. Can it be deleted?

A: Even though the text of the fic is not going to be on FFM anymore after it has been deleted, the fic's title, author's name, rating, pairings, summary and link to original post on AO3 will remain there.

The deletion of this leftover information can be done only by the site owner himself.

Some Russian authors tried to make him to delete it, but in most cases the FFM’s owner refused them mentioning that publication of such information is in line with fair use concept and doesn’t violate authors’ rights.

We are yet unsure how to delete this leftover information. In case you need it as well, try contacting the FFM owner at [email protected] or at AO3. Maybe e-mails of a large number of authors will work, but unfortunately we can’t guarantee anything. In case you need it, we can provide Russian text for you to send by e-mail (please contact our volunteers through DM or Ask on our tumblr page).

Q: My work from fanfiction.net/fictionpress.com/fanfiktion.de/other web-archives was copied to FFM. How can I take it down?

A: Unfortunately, there is no possible way for us to delete from FFM the fanworks that are copied from web-archives other then AO3. Only FFM’s owner can delete these works, please try contacting him at [email protected] or at AO3. In case you need it, we can provide Russian text for you to send by e-mail (please contact our volunteers through DM or Ask on our tumblr page).

Please do not delete your works from the web-archive it was stolen from, because if the work is deleted it will be nearly impossible to delete it from FFM.

Also it seems that some time ago there was similar case of unauthorized copying with other site. Please check this link, they give useful advice.

#ao3 #archive of our own #alert #fanfiction #fanworks #fanart #please reblog

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buckybabybaby · 3 years ago

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Birthday Wish (Part 2)

A/n: As promised, part 2 to last years Bucky smut to celebrate this blog turning 4 last Thursday! (And me turning 28...) Two people on AO3 requested this and apparently I'm a people pleaser, so here's your update, 1 year later!

If you're not over 18 please don't read.

Proof read by way of a text-speech device

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Female)

Word count: 2822

Warnings: 18 + Smut. Oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, Bucky has a big ****, all the good stuff ;)

Plot: part 2 to Bucky finding your fan blog, even more rewards for the birthday girl

Part 1

(This 2nd part probably won't make complete sense on it's own, smut is smut but there's a tiny bit of plot)

Birthday Masterlist – the other fics I've written on my birthday in the past 4 years are all here

Main Masterlist

*****

“Bucky?” You push weakly at his chest to get his attention. “Where you serious about that date? This isn't just because it's my birthday, is it?”

Bucky's mouth pauses in its decent down your neck as he pulls away to look at you questioningly. You can't help your doubts, not now you're no longer so fuzzy-headed, the reality of what has, and still is happening, too much to process as his warm body presses against yours distractingly.

“What do you mean?” He asks, running a comforting hand up your arm.

You want so much to just ignore your uncertainties and let this against-the-bedroom-door-make-out continue, as even with your damp underwear and friction burned thighs, there is no taking away from how painfully romantic this moment could be.

If only you were sure of his feelings.

“This isn't some pity thing, is it? Because I don't want that. If that's all this is going to be, please tell me now before it goes any further.”

“I said I like you didn't I?”

“Technically, no.”

“Oh.” Bucky's face falls and you hate that you've caused it. “M'sorry. I should have made it clear from the start; this is not because its your birthday, its because its you. This has been a long time coming, I guess this forced isolation just heighten everything and that’s why I made a move earlier today.”

“Really?”

He nods so rapidly it makes you giggle. “I swear. I wish I was better at expressing myself so you'd know how much I mean it.”

“Sometimes we don't need words,” You reassure him, curling a hand into his hair to pull his lips against yours once more, letting him take the lead as you sink back into the feeling, moving his hands to your shirts buttons when he hesitates for too long.

“I'll prove it to you, Y/N,” He mumbles against your mouth, retracing his path back down as he busies himself with opening up your blouse. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

Tipping your head back to rest against the door, your eyes close on their own, overwhelmed once again by how well you seem to fit together.

“Is this how you always dress?” He asks, referring to your lack of bra as his hands skim across your breasts.

You hum. “I don't remember the last time I got dressed properly.”

“Shit,” He breathes against the swell of your chest, “If I'd known...”

Your self satisfied laugh gets caught in your throat as he suddenly drops to his knees before you, one hand propping your right leg over his shoulder whilst his other holds you tight to keep your balance. His soft hair brushes your tummy, and you fight to keep your breathing from becoming erratic when he peers up at you, looking so submissive even though he's definitely the one in charge right now.

Bucky tugs at your soaked panties. “Let's get these out the way, yeah?”

Pressing his lips into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, he gives you a moment to catch up to his plan.

“What if I fall?”

“I won't let you.”

It's so easy to believe him when your body is almost buzzing in anticipation. The moment you give permission, your panties are ripped at both edges and pulled away from the sticky mess of your centre, your shriek of protest making Bucky grin, hard.

“Hey! I liked those!”

“I'll buy you more,” He promises, spreading your legs a little further to get better access. “Besides, your blog said you would like that.”

Whimpering, you realise this is all your own fault. A second later, however, your ruined underwear is the last thought on your mind when his lips finds your core and his tongue licks a long line up through your slick.

“Fuck, knew you'd taste good.”

You can't answer. Bucky doesn't waste any more time speaking, putting his mouth to better use between you legs, finding your clit in no time and sucking on it until you see stars. He's an expert at making you shake in pleasure, something you'd never doubted and in fact wrote quite extensively about, but it's nice to be proven right.

More than nice, actually. You're still sore from his thigh, responsive in the best way, and he's quickly building you up to another high as he eats you out like a starved man. The heat swirls in your tummy, your own mouth dry as you pull on his hair to warn him you're close.

Bucky can tell. You can feel his smirk as he doubles his efforts, his own little moans vibrating into you as the hand holding your thigh moves to join his mouth in wrecking you for anyone else.

The instant his fingers push inside you're gone. The stretch makes you cry out, curling into his hold, your whole body being supported by Bucky while you shake through your orgasm. Tears form in the corner of your eyes as he slows down but doesn't stop his movements to guide you through it, letting up just as the pleasure turns sharp.

Slumping back against the door out of breathe, you try to rest your weight back on your own legs, failing miserably when your limbs are still so shaky. Bucky coos sympathetically, rising back up and taking you fully into his arms, your legs naturally wrapping themselves around his middle.

“You're so fucking hot.” It's said in a mutter before he makes you taste yourself on his tongue.

The passion behind his kiss is shocking, despite the two orgasms he wrung out of you. In this position you can again feel his erection, still constrained in his tracksuit, and even before you've fully caught your breath you're trying to wriggle your way out of his hold to help him out.

He sets you down with a puzzled smile. “What do you want?”

“You. Inside me.”

There's no use trying to be coy when he's seen you at your most vulnerable. Bucky chokes at your brazenness, smile growing wide as he drags you with him towards his bed, peeling your blouse off your arms before lying you gently across the sheets.

Fully naked in front of him for the first time, your instinct is to cover up but he stops you, hands catching your wrists and pressing them back to your sides.

“Keep them there, okay?”

You nod mutely, watching spellbound as he stands at the foot of the bed and finally starts to strip. His sweatshirt comes off first, thrown to the carpet somewhere to be dealt with later, and then the bottoms are gone too, leaving him in just his briefs, bulging at the front and visibly stained.

You reach out a hand before you know what you're doing. “You wanna help, pretty girl?”

“Please,” You beg, sitting back up to perch on the edge of the bed and blink slowly up at him, letting your fingers graze just above the elastic of his underwear. Teasing for a second or two to keep him on his toes, you wait until just as it looks like he's about to snap to pull at the band and let the fabric fall down and off his legs.

“Fuck,” You both say at the same time.

He's big, bigger that you'd thought, and you have thought about it a lot. If he's uncomfortable under you're wide-eyed scrutiny he doesn't show it, just lets you stare until you've had your fill.

“That's not gonna fit.”

Your voice breaks as you fail to hide your fear, only glancing away briefly to send a worried look Bucky's way.

“It's all right, doll,” He whispers, the shadow of a smirk gracing his face as he guides your hand to his cock and encourages you to wrap your fingers around his length. “We'll make it.”

The warm weight under your palm distracts you effectively, and you enjoy the power it gives you over this normally unbreakable man, collecting the precum leaking out of the tip you work to set up a steady rhythm. He's impatient, thrusting in to your grip until he can't take it any more.

“Stop, stop. Or this will be over before it's begun.”

You're surprised, you didn't think you had done much yet, but he seems pretty affected if the tremble of his hands pushing yours away are anything to go by.

Closing his eyes to gather himself, he steps away momentarily to dig something out of his wardrobe, laughing quietly at your pout when he returns.

“M'not going anywhere pretty girl.” Bucky taps a square package against your pursed lips, making you gasp in realisation. “I just thought we might need one of these?”

He drops it onto the bed by your side in invitation for you to take the lead. Picking it up, you quash the nerves threatening to come back, instead concentrating on ripping the side open carefully and placing the condom at the end of his cock just as a question flits through your mind.

“Wait. Why do you have this? Did you plan-”

“No, Y/N,” He rushes to clear up. “Sam put them in my bag as a joke, seems I'll have to thank him for it now instead, huh?”

You don't answer, but silently agree as you finish rolling the rubber down his length. Now there's no pretending where this is going. Sensing your hesitation, Bucky leans in to kiss you again, lowering you back against the bed sheets while he explores your mouth and waits until he can feel you relax.

Placing one last peck to your lips, he settles, stood, at the perfect height in between your legs. “Ready?”

“Uh huh.”

“We'll go as slow as you need, okay?”

Smiling up at him, you help him swipe his cock through you folds, eliciting a joint inhale, before he finds your entrance and starts to push in.

If he looked big, it's nothing to how he feels. Your fingers scramble across the sheets to ground yourself, so full you think you might burst, and he's not even halfway in.

“Breathe for me, Y/N.”

His whole body is tense against yours as you try your best to do as he says, breathing in unsteadily. When your eyes meet you nod, and he continues the slow slide inside of you until your hips meet when he's fully sheathed.

“There we go, told you you'd be fine.”

You laugh weakly. “M'being split in two.”

On anyone else that smug look would be off putting but with Bucky, it's just makes you roll your eyes fondly. His hands smooth across your waist as he lets you get used to the feeling, staying still even though you can see it must be torture, and that makes you determined to relax for him, the slight sting where you're joined fading with every murmured praise.

A minute ticks by before Bucky clears his throat.

“This is called cock warming, right? Read about that on your blog too.”

He speaks so casually and you clench around him in shock. You hadn't even considered that that was what you were doing but you suppose he's right, kind of, and with the way he looks as he struggles not to move you'd be more than happy to try it properly in the future.

There's nothing prettier than the flush spreading across his cheeks as his chest heaves.

Still feeling full, but deliciously so now, you urge him to move with a shift of your hips. His own roll in to yours experimentally, and when you show no signs of pain he does it again, this time drawing a small moan out of you.

“Knew you'd be good at this too,” He confesses with a harder thrust, checking you reaction as he increases his pace. “Fucking made for me.”

You can't disagree when you fit together like a puzzle. Letting him take complete control, he doesn't disappoint, swiftly lifting one leg to rest over his shoulder like earlier and finding the perfect angle after only a few trial strokes, leaving you grabbing at the sheets once more.

It doesn't take long for you to get close again. Never letting up on hitting all the right spots inside you, it's like he already knows your body so well, and you're in heaven as the pressure builds up.

“Look at where we're joined.”

You obey immediately, watching mesmerised at the wetness shining on his cock, at the way it forces your body to open up to him, at the obscenity of how big he looks pushing his way in and out of you.

“Pretty girl's gonna cum again, yeah?”

It's not a question but a demand. You hum in affirmation, too far gone to form actual sentences, only just about able to untangle one of your hands from the sheets and press two fingers against your clit.

“I-I need-”

“Let me.”

Your hand is swatted away, replaced by his, rubbing circles over your clit whilst you try to not scream. It's too much, all your senses are heightened, and with one final thrust you're falling over the edge, clenching around his cock so tightly you'd be worried about hurting him if you weren't completely lost in the feeling.

Bucky doesn't last much longer either. His thrusts slow into a sort of filthy grind of his hips into yours, and then he's pulling you up by the waist to be as far inside you as possible before letting himself go with a loud groan. Echoing that noise with one of your own, you allow him to half collapse on top of you to ride out the high, still moving in and out of you minutely, prolonging the orgasm for all that its worth.

You stay joined together like that until the aftershocks have worn off and you have enough strength to tug him fully down on to you. Protesting, he stands back up and pulls out of you gently with a grunt, discarding the condom in the general direction of the bathroom bin, then crawls back up the bed to take you in his arms, laying face to face as you catch your breath.

Shy now, you hide your face in his chest, tracing patterns over his skin with a content smile. He moves the hair covering your face aside, chuckling silently when he realises the plastic tiara is still sitting atop it, slightly askew but otherwise unharmed.

Carefully untangling it, he places it safely on his bedside table. “We need to shower.”

You don't move. “In a minute.”

“Okay, doll. One minute.”

Eyes heavy, you sink into his hold, the comforting sound of his heartbeat lulling you into sleep until he shakes you back awake.

“Hey, I meant it. We need to clean up. And you haven't had your cake yet.”

Yawning, you ask hopefully, “Cake?”

“Yeah, I, er, baked it myself. I hope it's okay, I've never really-”

How can he be so endearingly nervous just minutes after he made you orgasm, three times, you don't know. “I'm sure it'll be lovely, Bucky. Thank you.”

He shrugs, still blushing. “S'okay.”

It's quiet for a while longer, just basking in the afterglow, but there's something you really need to discuss.

Steeling your courage, you dive right in. “So, where'd we go from here?”

“Well, I'd like it if you'd be my girl, but it's up to you.”

You heart flips as you sigh in relief. “I'd like that.”

His delight at the turn of events is obvious too, pushing his lips to yours quickly before stating semi-seriously, “I better not read anything about this on that blog of yours.”

He confuses you for a second, having completely forgotten what had gotten you into this position in the first place. Laughing, you throw one of your legs over his waist, cuddling up to him even closer.

“Hey, Bucky,” You start, sitting up out of his hold to better look him in the eye whilst you ask the question you've been meaning to since the beginning of all this. “Do you follow me on there?”

“Maybe.”

You shove his arm playfully. “Maybe? Bucky! Yes or no!”

“Maybe,” He repeats with a smirk, not letting you interrogate him any more as he slides off the bed and scoops you up in to his arms. “Come on now, Y/N. Shower, cake, then back to your bed.”

“Why my bed?”

“'Cos it's clean,” he says bluntly, making you flush.

“Oh.”

“Hmm.”

Struggling to stay awake, you allow him to manoeuvre you into the bathroom, inside the shower, and under the warm, soothing water.

Bucky grabs the soap when it becomes clear you don't intend to do it yourself, being particularly delicate with his touch over your still sensitive skin. “So, did you enjoy your birthday?”

You don't reply with words, just lean in to press a smile-filled kiss to the corner of his mouth, but that's probably answer enough.

*****

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #buckybabybaby #The gif is not really relevant but he's so attractive here so I had to add it...#Not sorry

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angryschnauzer · 4 years ago

Text

In Another World

Summary: In another world, it was Jensen that got the role of Captain America, not Chris. You have dreamed of meeting Jensen ever since you saw him in his CGI glory in The First Avenger, and your comicon experience you discover to be underwhelming. But then you meet a cosplayer in the bar... and life takes an altogether different turn for you.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Comicon, Comic Convention, Strangers at a Bar, Cosplay, Captain America Cosplay, Unprotected Sex, Hotel Room Sex, Oral Sex, Fingering, Blow Job, Anal Play.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Female Reader (no race specified)

The above Jensen manip i cannot trace, it was sent to me years ago by a now deactivated tumblr user, with the signature half chopped off. Its the artwork that inspired this fic. In case you weren’t aware, Jensen auditioned for the role of Captain America but it of course went to Chris.

I do not operate a tag list, but feel free to go ahead and follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified when i post a new story. Oneshots will be posted on Tumblr and AO3, Multichapter stories will be AO3 exclusives.

Due to the amount of stories i have written over the years i no longer have a masterlist, instead please check out my AO3 HERE.

In Another World

You sat at your computer, staring at the screen as you streamed the latest press junket. Marvel was going all out with its ten-year plan for The Avengers and with this press tour for The Winter Soldier you had fallen in love even more with Cap.

As the images streamed live from the far east, you watched as Jensen flexed his muscles and his co-stars laughed in admiration. He was born to be Captain America.

But you weren’t the only one watching.

In a small apartment in Boston another pair of eyes watched with an added level of sadness. He remembered the audition. Standing in the hallway with a bunch of other guys, all in their 20’s, all having a few bit-part roles under their belts in teen TV shows or low budget horror movies. The same green eyes that stared out of the screen had looked at him in the hallway, holding his hand out to shake;

“Hey man. Jensen”

“Chris”

Jensen smiled;

“Strong Boston accent there dude”

Chris chuckled;

“Say the same about you, what’s that Houston?”

“Dallas”

“Eh, close enough”

They chatted for a while as the guys ahead of them in the line entered the room, only to leave 5 minutes later. They didn’t look up at the guys left, no-one wanted to read expressions to give themselves fake hope. The door opened and the annoying droll voice of the elderly secretary called out;

“Ackles”

Chris looked up, holding his hand out to his new acquaintance;

“Break a leg man”

Shaking it briefly Jensen nodded;

“Thanks man”

You clung to your priority tickets, the excitement so intense you weren’t sure if you were going to puke or cry. You hoped for neither. It was your first convention and you had maxed out your credit card and called in sick from work when the special edition tickets had been released, refreshing your computer every ten seconds so that when they had been released online you had made your purchase within 30 seconds.

Now standing towards the front of the queue you were terrified. You had loved Jensen from the first moment you’d seen him in all his CGI glory in The First Avenger. You’d followed his career and had even gone back and watched his entire back catalogue. He was a natural for the role and the stealth suit from the most recent movie had made him look so handsome you had actually swooned when you had seen those first opening scenes of the movie aboard the Lumerian Star.

The con volunteers were doing an amazing job, herding the fans into some form of order, and as you got closer you could hear the laughter and squeals of joy as fans ahead of you were rapidly shown in.

It was your turn. The flimsy black curtain was pulled aside, and you were pushed into the brightness of the well-lit area that was surrounded on all sides by vivid blue panels that bore the con’s logo. Jensen turned and smiled, putting his hand out and you found you were standing next to him. Your head swam;

“Do you have a pose?”

“Umm…” You could see the con workers and volunteers moving their arms in a ‘hurry up’ motion; “I guess… a hug?”

“Sure thing”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pointed towards the bored looking photographer;

“Smile sweetie”

You did. You smiled, your saw blobs as the flash blinded you. You didn’t even register as Jensen pressed his hand to your back, thanking you before turning to the next person who had already been pulled through the black curtain. A volunteer took your wrist and pulled you gently through the curtain on the far side, giving you your photo number as they apologised it was so fast.

The curtain closed and you stood there, blinking as you tried to focus on the small piece of paper you held. It was done. Over. You’d met Jensen and it had been so rushed you hadn’t even had chance to look at him.

The bile started to rise, you looked around and saw a trash can, leaning over it and vomited into the piles of used coffee cups and candy wrappers.

The hunt for a bottle of water at a con hadn’t been something you would think would take so long; a lot of the vendors had already sold out, others the line was so long it would have taken you longer to get the water than the queue for the con in the first place. It seemed as if everyone was walking against you, or you were going against the flow of them, but when you finally got your water you drained the entire bottle, soothing your bile parched throat. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand you heard an announcement over the PA system;

“We apologise, but the Jensen Ackles panel won’t be broadcast out of the auditorium due to technical issues”

“WHAT?” you grabbed your wrist, looking at your watch as your eyes went wide. You’d been so dazed by your photo op and feeling ill afterwards you had forgotten about the panel. You needed a drink, and something stronger than water.

Chris adjusted the helmet of his costume as he looked in the mirror. The men’s room was quiet, the main panel of the con was on and he couldn’t bring himself to sit in the same room as the guy that had won the role that had made him millions; of fans and dollars.

After not getting the Captain America role Chris had continued to take bit parts and small independent movies. He was recognised occasionally but he hadn’t hit the big time. In fact there were months when there was nothing coming in and it was only after someone had asked him to fill in at a kids party where one of the superhero guys had fallen sick at the last minute did the idea of cosplaying come to him. Now however he was well known in cosplay circles, even getting paid for some appearances. He was called a natural for the role, but that was the hardest to hear. He’d worked hard with his costumer and within just a few weeks of the latest movie coming out they’d successfully recreated the amazing Stealth Suit in its darker colours.

Checking his pants for his wallet he decided he needed a drink, and something stronger than a soda.

Nodding to the bartender, you thanked him as he set the beer down in front of you before he went to the far end of the bar to pull the latest load of glasses out of the dishwasher. You sat picking at the label and tracing patterns in the condensation that gathered on the cool glass. You were vaguely aware of other people coming and going, and when the barstool next to you was taken you didn’t look up.

“What’ll it be Cap?”

The bartender’s greeting drew your attention from your drink, casting your gaze to your side and your breath was sucked from your body. You watched as the man set his helmet onto the surface of the bar before nodding to what you were drinking;

“Same as the lady please”

Your eyes travelled from where his hand sat on the countertop of the bar up the dark sleeve of his stealth suit, taking in his wide shoulders and up to the fluffy dark blonde hair, slightly messed up from where he’d been wearing the helmet. You couldn’t help it, but you were staring. Your jaw was hanging low as he turned slowly to you, his blue eyes sparkling with just the faintest hint of green as he looked at you and a self-conscious smile tugged at the corner of his mouth;

“Hi…”

“You’re… you’re…”

“No, just cosplaying…” he turned back to his beer for a moment until you finally found your voice

“No. You’re Chris”

He set his beer on the countertop and turned to you, this time a genuine smile on his face;

“Do we know each other?”

“Well…” you blushed; “We spoke on Instagram” He cocked an eyebrow, but his attention didn’t waiver from you as you continued; “You’re ‘AlmostCap’, right? You posted about wanting advice on how to dye leather boots a deeper colour? I messaged you with the details of the dyes costumiers use”

His face broke into a wide smile;

“Oh yeah, that really worked! How did you know that?”

“Majored in theatre design at college”

“Well that titbit of knowledge brought the whole costume together” he motioned to his stealth suit and you couldn’t help but to look him up and down; “Without you I wouldn’t look this good”

You snorted back a laugh;

“I’m sure you look just a good without the suit”

Bringing your beer to your lips you took a sip, not realising Chris had moved closer until his lips brushed against your ear;

“Would you like to find out?”

The hotel room door crashed against the wall, the metal doorknob leaving a dent in the drywall. Chris had you pressed up against it, one hand holding you flush with his chest as his other hand blindly reached out for the door to close it. As soon as his fingertips grasped the cool wood he threw it shut with a thud that reverberated through the room.

Your hands clawed at Chris’s costume, desperate to find purchase, something, anything to hang onto and anchor yourself as he kissed you so hard you saw spangled stars. He’d put his costume helmet back on for the rather quick walk through the convention to the hotel where you were staying. His lips traced patterns over your cheek before he pressed kisses down your neck, whispering as he went;

“I don’t normally do this…”

“Me neither…

“...especially in costume…”

“Oh Chris…Cap…”

“It’s Captain tonight, Princess”

His fingers had found their way to the buttons on the front of your dress, skilfully plucking each one from its grasp on the thin cotton fabric, before his still gloved hand roughly cupped your breasts. As his lips found yours again, he groaned into your mouth as he weighed your breasts in his large hands, the rough leather against the lace of your bra sending chills through you. If Chris had a Captain kink you weren’t about to say no, hell, it would be one of your biggest fantasies.

You found yourself being manhandled towards the bed, Chris’s kisses hard and ravenous, and when he wasn’t kissing you his tongue was doing the most devilish things on your skin. The bed touched the back of your knees and you were falling back onto the covers, Chris following seconds later as he pressed you into the mattress. With a thick thigh he pushed your legs apart, the rough Kevlar fabric of his suit brushing against the delicate skin of your soft skin as his fingers sought out the juncture of thighs. The brush of the harsh leather of his fingerless gloves made you groan into his mouth as he tugged your panties to the side and his thumb found your clit. Rubbing small circles, he teased it from its hood, before his fingers slid through your folds to ease some of your slick moisture from you to smooth his efforts.

When his lips left yours you chased after them, but his voice made you settle back against the bed and open your eyes;

“Uh-uh… stay there Princess”

You watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth, before his kiss bruised lips closed around his glistening digits and he moaned as he tasted you;

“You taste amazing”

“Umm… thank you?”

“Here…”

He brought his hand to your mouth and you grasped it as you sucked gently on just the fingertips, watching as Chris’s already lust blown pupils widened even further;

“Jesus fucking Christ, your tongue…”

Letting go of his fingers with an audible pop, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, resting on one arm as you slid a hand between your bodies and palmed his erection through his suit;

“What about my tongue?” you grinned before you tugged him down to lay beside you.

Pushing up onto your knees you ran your hand down his chest and stomach, the costume warm from his body heat and firm to the touch. Your fingers clawed at his suit to try and find the zipper, and after thirty seconds of searching you let out a huff;

“Ok, how the fuck to I get in here?”

With a low chuckle Chris reached down and lifted a hidden Velcro flap that revealed the button and the top of the zipper, and you eagerly tugged the pants of his suit open. The large bulge in his boxers immediately filled the space of the open zipper, and you found yourself nuzzling against the hardness that the soft jersey fabric could hardly contain. Pressing open mouthed kisses to the hard shaft through the fabric, you felt Chris’s hands on your head, he wasn’t pushing but you could tell he wanted you. With a smile you just about tugged his boxers down enough to free his cock, the thick shaft standing proud from the fly of his stealth suit. You wrapped your hands around it, the flesh hot to touch and pumped him slowly.

“Ah fuck Princess…”

“Yes Captain?”

“Please…”

He sounded wrecked, and as you leant forwards and licked at the bead of clear precum that was pooling at the tip you not only heard but felt the low rumble of his moan of appreciation. Wrapping your lips around the tip you started to suck, your tongue working over the hot smooth flesh as your fist worked up and down, pumping him slowly as you let the saliva pool in your mouth so you could take him deeper. In a moment when you pulled off to take a breath Chris’s hands were suddenly on your hips, moving you until you were kneeling on the bed and straddling his shoulders, and for a moment you squealed where his sudden strength had moved you with such ease.

“Gotta taste you…” he muttered from beneath the skirt of your dress, his hands smoothing over the globes of your ass and you could feel his breath hot on your skin. His fingers tugged your panties to the side and he was pulling you down onto his mouth, his tongue swiping through your soaked folds.

For a moment you lost yourself, Chris’s efforts driving you closer to orgasm than you thought was possible, but you found your senses and leant forwards again, taking him as deep as you could and you felt his moan deep in your cunt as he almost came on the spot. Working your fingers into his suit you cupped his balls, feeling them tight and hot in your hand as you sucked hard on his cock. At the same time you felt Chris drive his tongue into your soaked hole and his thumb sought out your clit. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, and you could feel your legs start to shake. The harder he drove forwards the deeper you took him into your mouth. You heard a muffled cry from between your thighs and you felt that first tremble of the thick vein that ran the length of his cock. At the same time you felt his fingers dance over the crack of your ass, one finger pressing lightly against your dark rose and you were cumming over his face as he pumped thick ropes of cum down your throat.

When your legs were about to give out you tactfully rolled to the side, laying on the bed next to Chris as he fought to catch his breath. With laboured efforts he wrenched his helmet off, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he started to fumble with his costume;

“Gotta get out of this…”

Watching a hot guy strip was not something you’d experienced before, and a hot guy dressed as Captain America? Well that was hitting all your buttons in one go. You smiled as Chris was muttering to himself;

“Fuckin’ suit, so fuckin’ hot… fuckin’ drenched in sweat…”

When he was down to just his pants you finally spoke up;

“Need a hand there Captain?”

Chris looked up and grinned;

“You mind if I use your shower?”

“Sure thing, it’s all yours…”

Chris started for the small bathroom door, his utility pants hanging low on his hips before he paused and turned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth;

“Wanna join me?”

Showering with a guy you had literally just met was a surreal experience. The comfort and security of being partially clothed during a hook-up was completely stripped from you as you stood in the small shower enclosure the hotel room offered. Chris had looked absolutely sinful as he had stood beneath the cascading water; his skin patterned with multiple tattoos and just the right amount of chest hair that made you want to run your fingers through it as the hot water coursed over his body. Your fingers had trailed down over his hard stomach, tracing the trail of hair that led to his thick cock hanging heavy between his muscled thighs.

His lips had met yours eagerly again, and he soon had you pressed against the wall, his leg wedged between your thighs as you ground yourself against the firm muscle. Chris’s hands found your ass and eagerly pulled you hard against him, trapping his now angry cock between your bodies;

“Fuck… you’re so fuckin’ sexy” he muttered against your ear, his fingers digging into your asscheeks; “You gonna cum for me Princess? Soak my thigh?”

“Yes Chris, please…”

“What do you need Princess?”

“Something…. Just more…”

He pulled back from you, searching your expression for something, anything as he chose his words;

“I can give you more…” The depth of tone sent a shudder down your spine; “I’m gonna ask you this and you can say no, and I won’t walk out that door if you say no, but do you like ass play?”

You growled. You god-damn growled like a feral wildcat, nodding eagerly;

“Yes Chris… fuck, yes…”

He captured your lips for another fierce kiss as his hands slid over your ass and one finger trailed up the seam of your cheeks before pressing gently against your rear;

“Now Princess” he muttered against your lips; “I haven’t got any lube in here so it’ll just be a gentle press, you tell me if you want me to stop”

You nodded, biting your lip as he pushed forwards, one hand gripping your hip as he slid you up and down his soaked thigh, the other pressing gently but insistently against your back door.

Just that stimulation alone was enough, and you were cumming hard, your head pressed against the cool tiles as Chris sucked a hickey into your neck.

You stood there panting as you tried to regain your composure, Chris holding you tight in his arms as he gently caressed you as you finally came to your senses. Nuzzling against his neck you felt him push his hips forward, his thick cock hard again against your hip;

“Ready for another round?”

“Anything for you Cap” you grinned.

The pair of you had fallen back onto the bed, half dry and oblivious to anything other than pleasure. Body heat rising, you felt your back naturally arch as Chris lay on top of you, pulling his knee up to part your legs further and you could feel his thick length laying hot and hard against your soaked folds. As his other leg pushed up and parted your thighs even further, you felt that first nudge of his tip at your soaked entrance, your legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist and with one firm squeeze you felt his breach your body and slide into you.

The base noise that escaped your throat as you felt each glorious inch stretch your velvet walls was music to Chris’s ears, and he let you take the lead even though he was the one on top, letting your body grow accustomed to his size. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke softly;

“You’re doing so good Princess, feel so fuckin’ amazing, takin’ me so deep”

You slowly relaxed your thighs grip on his waist and Chris started to move, sliding his hips back as he slid out, before pushing slowly back in. Propping himself up either side of you, you watched as his arms bulged as he looked down and watched as he pulled out again, your wetness liberally coating him.

With his tip just notched inside you whined at the loss, before with a powerful thrust he filled you completely;

“Holy FUCK!”

“Do you like that Princess? Like my thick dick splitting you open?”

“Fuck Chris, yes, do it again… please!” you whined.

The gorgeous man above you grinned down, seemingly turned on by your begging, and with a loud grunt he started to pile drive into you, his impressive girth stretching you in all the right ways, the slight upward curve to his shaft making your g-spot his number one target with every push. The man was a demon in bed, fucking you hard as he pressed kisses to your chest and breasts, all whilst uttering the dirtiest things about how good you felt, how well you were taking his dick. You begged for more and he eagerly gave it, fucking you through one orgasm before chasing another. His thrusts started to get sloppy, his hips stuttering and he cursed quietly under his breath;

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum soon…”

“Cum inside me… I’m on the pill…”

He pushed a hand between your bodies, rubbing hard circles against your clit and soon you were coming, your orgasm triggering his, and you as your body milked the cum from his body you both felt like you had found heaven.

With a grunt Chris rolled to your side, his dick sliding out of your soaked channel and he lay on the bed, his head propped up on one elbow, his dick full and swollen at your hip, still shining with your combined fluids. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, and you practically purred when Chris gently ran his fingertips over your breasts;

“That was fuckin’ amazing… I’m probably going about this the wrong way, but can I buy you dinner?”

“That’d be nice”

Dinner had been a fun affair; you had redressed, and Chris had worn his stealth suit pants but just wore the thin Under Armour undershirt instead of the full suit. Although the hotel was well used to people in cosplay costumes during the conventions using their facilities, Chris didn’t want to draw attention to himself, instead he wanted his sole attention to be able to be on you rather than people asking for photos. Throughout your meal the conversation had been fun and light, Chris telling you how he had in fact auditioned for the Marvel role but didn’t envy the craziness that came with the now worldwide recognition that Jensen had to put up with. You had explained how you now worked for a theatrical costumer’s agency on the West Coast, but had heard about some openings for a new series production out of Vancouver.

Chris laughed softly;

“Typical… I fall for a girl that lives on the opposite side of the country”

“You… you’ve fallen for me?”

Chris paused, resting his hand over yours;

“I’m sorry, I’m kinda sappy when it comes to relationships… and I gotta be honest, when I saw you at the bar, I recognised you from your Instagram and when you helped me… I was trying to play it cool…” he took a deep breath; “I hope I’m not scaring you off…”

Leaning forward you pressed a kiss to his cheek;

“No… it’s nice… its more than nice…”

Once the meal was over the pair of you stood in the foyer, unsure what to do before Chris pointed out the rest of his costume was in your room.

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“I was meant to be crashing on a friends couch”

Grinning you pulled him close;

“Did you want a bed rather than a couch?”

“Fuck yes”

Minutes later you were crashing in the door to your room, Chris’s hands and lips trying to cover every inch of your body, and this time with the knowledge of how his costume worked you knew exactly how to get his pants open, tugging them to the floor as you pushed him into one of the chairs and knelt at his booted feet. With his dick in your mouth he was soon hard again, but that was when he took control, standing and moving you until you were knelt on the soft chair arms looking out of the high rise window over the convention center and city below, the lights of the city oblivious as he flipped your skirt up and pulled your panties down, and filled you with one smooth thrust;

“Fuck… this pussy is fuckin’ perfect, you feel like heaven…”

Wrapping his strong arms around you he pulled you flush with his hard chest, sucking at your neck as his dick rubbed so beautifully against your g-spot you were coming again, screaming out your release as Chris pulled out and lifted you, pulling you to your feet before you found yourself pressed against the wall and he filled you again.

Clinging to his wide shoulders you felt him filling you over and over, your pleasure climbing higher than you ever thought possible. Chris’s strong arms were holding you up, his large hands gripping your ass as he fucked you into the wall, your legs wrapped around his narrow waist;

“Chris, I’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, cum for me, let me feel that pussy milking me as I fill you up… you feel so good, I’m never letting this pussy go…”

As you came so did he, your walls squeezing him so tight he thought he may pass out from the sheer pleasure. For the longest time he just held you there, your bodies joined until Chris’s dick softened enough to slip out of you. Letting your feet fall to the ground you kissed as you made your way to the bed, falling onto the mattress before wrapping the covers around your flushed bodies, falling asleep soon after.

The sound of a phone ringing pulled you from sleep, the warm body next to you grumbling at the sound before it rapidly jumped out of bed;

“Fuck, that’s my phone”

Through bleary eyes you watched Chris’s naked ass as he rummaged through the piles of clothing on the floor, finding his phone and answering it just in time;

“Yeah… uh-huh… for real?! Yeah absolutely! Send me the details, I’ll be there!”

You watched as he listened a little longer before ending the call, turning to you and he had the biggest smile on his face;

“I might have gotten a part!”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, they want me to do some screen tests with a possible co-star, see if there’s chemistry”

Jumping out of bed you ran and hugged him, kissing him deeply as he carried you back to the bed;

“I feel like celebrating… how about breakfast in bed?”

“Ok, I’ll call room serv… oh…”

Chris was pushing your legs apart and kissing up your inner thigh, and that’s when you realised he was talking about a different kind of breakfast in bed. As you lay back and enjoyed the magic he could perform with his tongue, you blissed out from pleasure.

Three Weeks Later

Chris finished the last scene, the director calling cut and he grinned as he looked at his castmates. None of them could quite believe how they were there, standing in a cold and rainy British Columbia small town, with writers and directors that had been trying to get their series picked up for years.

The rest of the cast of ‘Supernatural’ was a small ensemble, and having been given the role of the older brother; Dean Winchester, Chris felt at home with the role and had been given he contract straight after his screen test with his on screen brother Sam. Laughing with the actor that played Sam - a native New Yorker by the name of Sebastian - the two of them had immediately clicked and their friendship and on screen chemistry shone through the camera.

“Hey Evans, Stan!”

The sound of the producer’s voice caught Chris’s attention;

“Yeah?”

They need you two back at the studio, costume fitting”

“Sure thing”

The sound of the small doorbell that had been fitted on the counter drew your attention from the racks in the back room, calling out for your new arrival that you’d be out in a second. The job you’d applied for in Vancouver had pulled through, and it was your first week. A new show that needed a lot of men’s casual wear, yet things like jeans and jackets needed seams strengthened for fight scenes and pockets added for prop weapons. You were yet to meet the two main stars of the show, the casting having not been fully finalised until just days ago, and everything was hush-hush until it was going to be announced at one of the late summer conventions.

Dumping the armfuls of clothing onto the counter you turned and almost fainted;

“Chris?!”

For a second he looked in shock before he vaulted the counter, and took you into his arms;

“You’re here? You’re really here?”

“You’re the star?! You didn’t tell me!”

You kissed him deeply, before a quiet cough from behind Chris drew your attention, Chris turning;

“Seb, I want you to meet the girl I was telling you about”

The other guy raised an eyebrow;

“You’re THE girl? Wow, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he held his hand out over the counter and you shook it, Chris still holding you in his arms; “I’m Sebastian but everyone calls me Seb”

Looking at the two of them you knew in that moment the show was going to be a hit, and you looked forward to making these two look even better on screen… if that was even possible.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

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cherry3point14 · 4 years ago

Text

Stranger Than Fanfiction: Ch 3

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Meta baby. Pure meta. Word count: 2,100. Chapter Summary: Your google search turns up something unexpected. A/N: No author in this one for... reasons. Also this one is kind of short and lame. A means to an end if you will, but trust me, Ch 4 is a doozy. P.S it’s nearly 3am so Chapter 4 will be up when I wake up, ya dig.

Ao3 if you prefer

It’s almost funny how dramatic the voice in your head wants to be about those suited criminals and yet it doesn’t care to elaborate on anything important. Like, say, your imminent death. The mention of it was so casual, calm, but a couple of weirdos want to pretend to be insurance adjusters and suddenly it’s all pretty prose and run-on sentences. Flowery language about broad-shouldered men in roaring muscle cars that are going to change your life. She’d kept going while you’d interviewed Maggie Hall. She’d harped on and on about how you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

Of course, you couldn’t stop thinking about them, she wouldn’t shut up about them.

After an entire monologue about the way the paper felt in your hands and could never be replaced by computers—purists are the worst—you finally get to leave. That's when you get some respite. You’re walking out into the late afternoon sun and thanking Maggie for her time and it's bliss. Maggie's story sounds a little off, after years doing this you have this gut instinct for when you should investigate further. Funnily enough, you have drama in your life that you’ll submit a valid claim anyway. Just so you can get this cursed case out of your hair. You might even hurry it through the system before the thing has the chance to kill you.

You’re still not sure how a case could kill you. You’re a pencil pusher at best and the interview with Maggie is an excellent example of the majority of your fieldwork, obviously excluding the criminals at the start. Unless your demise is death by papercut.

For now, you’ve given up trying to fathom out the voice you’re hearing, especially since she's chosen to once again go radio silent. If she won’t say anything useful, like say how not to die, then you were going to have to figure out how to skip ahead on your own. Since she kept talking about the imposters you’d met that day, they seemed to be an excellent place to start.

CNK 80Q3. Ohio plates. That's as much as you know without google.

That evening you set yourself up in the same way you would to work from home. There's a desk in the corner of your dining room with a chair that offers enough lumbar support for the longest of research sessions. Although it’s your personal laptop and there’s not normally a large glass of wine sitting next to you when work.

After it powers on you’re assaulted by the usual pop-ups; windows you forgot to close last time and your emails. Procrastinating is not a new routine, and you’re on a mission, so they all get minimized instead of closed completely. Then you open a new browser window and a stark google homepage stares back at you. A hopeful new beginning.

CNK 80Q3. You’re genuinely surprised that she hasn’t started talking again to describe the change in the air as you type in the plate number. Or some drivel about the way your fingers emphasize each letter and number. It’s all there happening anyway, making the moment foreboding, but your narrator doesn’t seem care.

The first row of results are images. Weirdly its images of the license plate itself. That doesn't strike you as odd at first glance and then you think about it a little more. Why are there so many pictures of this particular license plate? Who is running around taking these pictures? You're pretty sure if you typed in your own plate number there would be no pictures of it. And then you see some shopping results where you can actually buy the plate. While the online shops might explain the images, it only really poses more questions. Why are so many people buying that license plate? What’s so special about it?

You take a sip of your wine before you scroll further, savoring the taste as well as the way it relaxes your shoulders. You don't own any 'fun' novelty coasters that say it but you're inclined to agree with the statement you've heard before. Wine really does make everything better.

You’re not yet into the murky depths of page 2 but you’re far enough down the page now to make it past the sponsored results. These links come thick and fast from websites that all seem to have one word in common. Supernatural.

Then you see your salvation. A page called Supernaturalwiki—the link is simply titled: Impala—and you stop scrolling, a grateful sound slipping past your lips as you do. Wiki, you know that word. Like Wikipedia. Wikipedia has references and moderators', clear and concise explanations. This was the easy way out you were looking for.

That’s what you hope as you click on the link anyway. Your naivety lasts all of twenty seconds before the page loads. With its stock image of a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, and a quote about it being the most important object in the universe.

Or it's the most important object in some books at least.

Further clicking and longer sips of wine reveal it’s a series of books called Supernatural—with the title of the wiki you should have seen that coming. These were story after story of ghosts and demons and angels? There are pages that describe monsters, urban legends, and two men. Sam and Dean Winchester. They each have dedicated pages with their whole lives mapped out.

Sam and Dean are fictional brothers and apparently the heroes. Each of their respective profiles begins with an illustrated image from book covers, and then a series of quotes that contradict those pictures. Then their lives are intricately detailed, or should you say they are chronologically recorded according to each book. You would read their histories in full if it wasn't for how tiny the scroll bar is, indicating that these profile pages are ridiculously long.

You sit back in your chair and take a deep breath in the hopes of it being soothing. Or answering all your questions. It does neither. You have no answers and more stress.

This went beyond two men pretending to do your job now. Those guys were driving around in a car with fictional license plates. What was this? Some weirdly immersive cosplay? Was that something Sam and Dean did in the books?

Even so, those two guys weren’t roleplaying at comic con, they were actually in that woman's home. If you hadn't arrived they could have done anything. They could be doing anything now.

There's a ding from the kitchen which means the frozen meal you’d thrown in the oven is ready. Not that you stop thinking about this while you go and grab it because the more you think the less sense everything makes. Like why is a narrator who, until now, was obsessed with those guys, so very silent all of a sudden?

Back at your desk with hot food, you head back to google to see if you can buy these books anywhere because knowledge is power. Unfortunately, not even Amazon has copies. It’s only when you add the term “ebook” to your search do you find a Tumblr blog with links to download all the files, split into two categories. Published and unpublished. There are a lot of Supernatural books and from the looks of it there’s an equal amount of drama over how the unpublished ones got out.

You start downloading them without consciously making a decision to read them. Downloading kind of happens because your macaroni cheese is too hot for your mouth to handle yet, and your hands still need something to do. Besides you didn’t necessarily need to read all of them, if they were truly terrible you’d delete the files. No harm, no foul. But if this was the only way to get answers then you and your kindle were going to be pretty busy this weekend.

“Morning Laura.” Nobody likes Mondays, yet you have a little bounce in your step having made your usual green tea, got dressed, and driven to work in complete and utter silence. In fact, you’d heard nothing all weekend. The caveat was that, yes, you’d spent all weekend reading those books.

You liked reading and without discrimination. Trashy romance novels at the airport? You betcha. Fantasy books thicker than your mattress? Sure thing, order a pizza. But a mystery? Well, those were your favorite. Of course, the detective needed some sort of sketchy backstory and there had to be a fishy amount of red herrings. Most importantly there had to be something to solve. It was an elevation of your day to day life and you always get sucked in. In your job, you try to solve the most benign mysteries; people faking insurance claims. More often than not there isn’t even a mystery to solve, someone really did slip and break something. So, a mystery that grabs you out of nowhere is like a promotion for you, a challenge.

That had been how those Supernatural books had dragged you in. Ghosts and ghouls you could take or leave, you might have stopped reading if that’s all there was. Then this Carver Edlund went and put in that damn side plot about their missing father. It was too enticing, addicting. From the cryptic disappearance to the indecipherable journal of clues. John Winchester would be the death of you.

Or case 24-01 would be. The jury was still out on that.

And now it’s Monday. You’ve heard nothing more from the voice in your head—it may have been a low-level case of carbon monoxide poisoning—and the boys are so close to figuring everything out you can taste it. Technically they know John is alive by now, you finished Shadow some point yesterday afternoon and felt yourself choke up at the emotional goodbye with a father they just got back. But they still have no clue what he's up to, which is a hideous funhouse mirror reflection of your own life. Hopefully, by the time they figure out John’s game plan, you'll have your life figured out too. And fingers crossed figuring everything out will involve staying alive as well.

“You look like you’re feeling better this morning.” Laura is her perky self, always a little too happy for this side of 9am.

Oh right, you went home sick on Friday. You should remember things like that. “I think it was a bug or something I ate maybe.”

“Sure, sure. One of those convenient Friday bugs.” She winks at you.

If she accused you of that say, last week, you’d have laughed it off given that's a thing everyone has in common; trying to skip out on work. So, that's what you try to do this side of the weekend. You push out something that hopefully resembles a regular person's laugh like you’re in on the joke. You have to fake it because you’re still thinking about Providence. The book you’d finished that morning instead of watching the news. You’re still wondering if Sam is starting to move on after Jessica.

Needless to say, you understand now. The many fan blogs and the artwork you’d glanced at before you started reading. All those things that you’d disregarded as an unhealthy fascination for a bunch of books. Now you’re one of them, obsessed. Walking into the office with your kindle tucked in your bag and Salvation just begging to be read.

This goes beyond finding John. That plot got its hooks in you but you’ve known John was alive since Home and you’re still reading. You could also blame this on your general love of reading except it goes beyond that too. Honestly, it’s hard to pick one thing. They’re really great books. Sam and Dean have such turbulent lives but they still have each other. They’re snarky, lost, angry, and caring. They’re both so different but the sibling relationship is so real. And the stories go beyond a new monster every book, there are these huge interesting story arcs that you couldn't stop reading if you tried. John Winchester had been the first example of these addictive plot points, but not the only one.

“Y/N?”

You snap your head up, “sorry, sorry.”

“I was only saying you’re going to be here all day then, lunch?”

Even though Laura must see the decision on your face she still pretends to hope until you start speaking. “Actually I have a lot to catch up on so I’ll probably be working through. Tomorrow?”

She smiles brightly and nods, “sure thing.”

As bad as you feel about lying to Laura she has presented you an opportunity. Everyone thinks you were sick on Friday. They even think you're behind on your work and they don’t know you’ve already conducted the initial interview. Which makes your decision to sit at your desk and prop your kindle up next to your screen even easier. Nobody would notice the difference between you concentrating or reading. If you skip lunch you might be able to get to Bloodlust out of the way too.

Continue to Chapter 4.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer StrangerThanFiction tags: @jaylarkson

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geometricalien · 4 years ago

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oh dear i'm super duper late but I have a lot of questions about your wips!! I wanna know more about sick Akashi, nekoma pirate crew, BoKuroo/BokuAka midsommer, Pining + Jacket, The truth burns and destroys, feeling good, Punk Noya, Strawberry Blonde, sunspot and the merman au!!! Thanks babe <333

Hi Vee!!! This is it, I spent wayyyyy too long on this, I think my finger is cramping from typing. But thank you for asking, I love sharing my ideas, sorry if it’s incorherent.

This is super long so it’s under the cut, saving people room

Sick Akashi

So, it’s based off of a line prompt “I’d like it if you’d stay” and as the title suggests, 3rd year Akashi gets sick, sorry Vee it’s not fatal, Furihata comes to Rakuzan to check on his friend after he doesn’t answer his phone. The entire premise is Akashi works himself sick with his various responsibilities he takes on as “perfectionist who can’t show any cracks at all”. I don’t want Bokushi Akashi showing up so it’s minus the mental break elements. (also technically in canon terms it's after they have merged so yeah) I feel like they deserve a cute little “nurse” the other from a sickness ficlet. And… maybe… sick Akashi confesses…….. It’s almost a writing challenge for me because Akashi has a more polite sophisticated way of thinking and speaking, so cough yep

The rest are Haikyuu aus so buckle in

NEKOMA PIRATE CREW

Admittedly this is more loose, less of a solid idea. It’s Yaku centric, and how he went from a merchant from his grandfather’s company searching for lost merchandise and became the first mate who keeps track of the ship's finances and keeps their captain Kuroo on track. Other things of note, he meets Kuroo first as a pirate on another ship who stole his merchandise, Kenma is a sea witch (is that science or magic? That's always the question), and about halfway through the adventure they get Lev on board as a new member. So yeah! Kinda a fetch quest but on of my favorite fanfics is legitimately a fetch quest so it's okay fjdkaljf

BoKuroo/BokuAka Midsommer

This is based off of a fanart by desdelasombra my friend Shayla showed it to me and we threw this idea around together, we really don’t want to write it but it's also spectacular. So it's the movie Midsommar, right? Bokuto is a “gatherer” bringing his friends to come join in his village’s rituals. But we didn’t want anyone to die (except for Kenma sorry he’s dead as the substitute for the main character’s sister), so a grieving Kuroo comes with his boyfriend Bokuto, joined by their friends the smart studious and jaded Oikawa and bright bubbly Hinata. Obviously the three react badly to the first ritual and Bokuto doesn’t understand because for him it’s always been a joyful experience and he wanted to share it with his friends. A Lot of things happen, but most important is Akaashi and Kuroo dancing under the may pole together. BokuAka was in the past when Bokuto was home so part of this is them coming together as poly and escaping the final scene of the movie. Again this is very painful but that art is beautiful and the world is better for it being created

Pining + Jacket (KuroLev)

Again this is a line prompt about lending a jacket because it’s cold and it had so much potential for pining and who is the most pining bastard that I know? LEV and Shayla told me about KuroLev and somehow this happened. It’s currently going to be a sequence of drabbles of Lev pining after Kuroo, what else could you ask for? Uh? Lev confessing to Kuroo and them going out??? Sorry I can’t hear you over the exquisite angst and pain of one sided love that I want to explore

The truth burns and destroys

GOOD CHOICE, I began this on saturday night and it has earned a very special place in my heart. Sometimes I fear that my writing is like a lazy pool, sure it's nice and easy and smooth but there isn’t an intensity or raw emotions, BUT THIS this accomplishes what I want. And I’m really glad, its metaphor and imagery heavy but it really captures their emotions and thoughts without it sounding like I’m a 7th grader writing my first fanfiction glances to my abandoned wips from that time. Okay, Vee, I am a glutton for punishment and angst and I choose to pursue cheating fics. But specifically where and how they build the relationship up again after finding out. So, I was reading a KageHina cheating fic and how the character’s reacted felt off somehow so at midnight I wrote this snippet to fullfill my craving, you know what they say the best fanfiction is self indulgence. Here is a short excerpt,

He wants to brush this aside and continue their lives. He wants to wake up next to Tobio and still be seen the same way. He doesn't want anything to change.

Tobio is his favorite book. He has read it time and time again. Highlighting, underlining, cherishing. So Shouyou is able to read the silent begging in his eyes. The right clenched fist.

"Shouyou," a deafening pause "What is this?"

Please lie to me.

…

It stretches on. The eternity of silence. They sit together holding on to the last hope they have. Shouyou memorizes those beautiful hands, each crease and bump. Hands that helped shape him become who he is and that reached out unwaveringly.

Tobio sighs a world ending sigh.

Shouyou was the one who created their world, it's only fitting that Tobio is the one who destroys it.

In summary I like angst, I want to feel something

Feeling good

AAA, okay uh, This is a BokuAka pop star au. Akaashi sings “feeling good” at a big charity event hosted by Akashi (... yes I am AkaFuri trash and I can and will sneak them in anything and everything I write) while he is singing he walks down a big staircase remembering moments in his relationship with Bokuto, how much they have grown and how much he loves him. I love the concept! But I tried to write smut in the beginning of it and OOF THATS A NO. I actually have the majority of it written but I do want to add more emotions and thoughts (the lazy pool writing) and make it Ao3 friendly because I have all of the lyrics for feeling good in it as “post signs” for what he sings and that’s against their rules. 1 major aspect of this fic is it's all leading up to the point where Akaashi says “I love you” for the first time to Bokuto after finishing the song, on stage, in front of everyone and on every screen broadcasting it.

Punk Noya

I have a love for feral boys, especially feral alternative punk boys (and girls and humans) so this whole idea is that Noya goes to another school for high school, embraces more punk aethsetics, and on the first day of the preliminary tournaments he hears the rumors about a high schooler in a gang, getting up to nasty things, and he decides to confront them. He finds Asahi, rants him out and leaves. The plot then follows canon, at the winter tournament Karasuno faces Dateko, Karasuno loses even more badly because Noya isn’t there. Asahi quits volleyball, BUT Asahi and Noya run into each other at the store and talk leading to friendship which leads to romance. Idk man, I want more punk haikyuu characters, it gives me life. Alt Yamaguchi is my favorite but onwards we go

Strawberry Blonde

!!!! So this is Mitski’s song and to give a vague idea this is a pining Kageyama fic where he tries to pull away from Hinata and that back fires. (I do have more to say but I’ve been typing this for over an hour and I’m getting really tired fjkdaljl) There is one paragraph that I love, so here it is! Kageyama and Hinata are practicing by themselves outside of school and they are playing pepper (its a volleyball warm up practice routine where you partner up with someone pass, set, and spike the ball to each other sesquentially) Hinata goes to spike the ball and for a moment Kageyama sees it,

They are at nationals and they made it to finals. The crowds are screaming, but everything except the court is thrown into shadows. They are at match point of the final set. Everything is at peak intensity and at the center is him. Flying in the air. Orange hair waving with the momentum. His loud take off echoing in the gym. Arm poised for the kill. Eyes sparking with ferocity and passion as he aims. And finally, tipping the world over is the loud slap of his hand, sending the ball to the far side of the court-

This was actually going to be finished and posted in time for Haikyuu season 4 coming out and the manga wrapping up.... clearly I failed my goal fjdaklfj

Sunspot

You don’t know this about me but I love royalty aus, and this is BokuAka Prince Akaashi and Knight Bokuto. This was a short snippet of this grand idea I have for them where they run away from Akaashi’s inherited destiny together. It has potential to be really wide and expansive with the differnet teams as different kingdoms (AGAIN ILLUSION OF CHOICE, that fic really influences me doesn’t it fjdskalj) But this was a short glance at Akaashi taking a break from studying and watching Bokuto and the other knights practice duel. The title comes from the fact that Bokuto is a sunspot in Akaashi’s life, and his day is substantially better basking in his golden shining light.

Merman au

I’m so glad you asked about this and its technically the one I’ve written the most for since it's actually the one I posted on my haikyuu writing side blog. But brief recap, long term it’s a BokuAka little mermaid au but instead of a sea witch it’s an underwater deity who makes “wishes” (it's a deal) with every royal who is born. And Akaashi has a lot of siblings: Ushijima, Oikawa, Suga, Terushima, and Hinata, and its in that order. So I have information on every sibling’s deal, what they wish for, what they give for it, what happens to them in the future, romantically and otherwise. But, this is the one I haven’t updated in over a year, I am working on it!! I’m currently on Koushi’s (suga’s) wish/deal, its just taking forever. If you want to learn more about it I’ll link it in parts 1 2 3 4

BUT I will work on Suga’s part and then Terushima’s and then to the meat of the idea with Akaashi.

If you have made it this far, thanks, you are cool as always. My brain and fingers is ded.

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kittinoir · 4 years ago

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Echoes of You Ch. 10

Read on Ao3

Chat Noir stifled a curse as his toe caught on a loose shingle and he nearly toppled right over the edge of a roof, straight down into the street below. He caught himself at the last moment and used his momentum to swing himself back up. He started running again, scowling at the stupid mistake, but then, he was making a lot of those these days.

He’d been careless, and lazy, and…and irresponsible. That was how he’d gotten into this mess, and that was why he still hadn’t been able to find her.

This, he thought as he glanced at the pink sketch book in his right hand, at least he could do right. He’d recognized it at Marinette’s instantly, but when he’d tried to return it at the Gardens, she and Alya had disappeared. Not really a surprise, he guessed; Alya probably had some story to upload to her blog.

A small part of him had been flattered when he’d picked up the book and saw sketch based on his suit, but he knew better than to read too much into it. After all, he had the same assignment. There weren’t exactly tonnes of them to choose from. He’d been marginally surprised she hadn’t chose to use Multimouse for inspiration, but then, she technically didn’t exist. Besides, only Chloe would be vain enough to design something based on herself. Well, and he’d be lying if the thought hadn’t crossed his own mind. He’d quickly dismissed it, however, in favour of a more personal design concept based on - and, in his heart, dedicated to - his Lady.

Marinette’s design was beautiful. Simple, but his guess was that she hadn’t gotten very far on it when she’d been interrupted. He’d thought about letting ‘Adrien’ return it but didn’t want to imply that he and his alter ego had been at the same place at the same time. Her name, however, was written in graceful cursive on the inside flap, giving him the only reason he needed to drop by.

He had to be careful, though. He couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes. One had been enough, and it had cost him everything. He couldn’t put Marinette at risk as well. She’d already warned him once at the studio when Scream-ripper had attacked. ‘Do I know you’? She was clever, pretending she was nothing more than some passing civilian to him where Hawkmoth could easily observe him. After all, no one was safe while Hawkmoth was free. He wished he’d been able to protect Ladybug half as well as Marinette protected herself.

Which was why, he decided as he swung around a chimney, he would leave the sketchpad on her balcony and leave. No contact was probably safest - even if he did want to ask her how she was holding up. She’d seemed so scared a few weeks ago. He’d never admit it, but seeing that had left him a little shaken. Marinette always seemed like one of those people with an iron-core. He’d never seen her like that before, and he didn’t like it. Of course, Ladybug had been that way, too. Was that why she hadn’t trusted him with the Miracle box? Had he put too much pressure on her? Made her think she couldn’t rely on him?

Maybe, he thought, as he landed on Marinette’s roof and leapt for the chimney. Maybe.

And then panic turned his thoughts to dust in the wind, because there on the balcony, sitting in the chair with some tea and her tablet, was Marinette.

She glanced up at him, face going as red as his felt. Thank god for the mask.

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” he said intelligently. Luckily for him, she laughed, the sound like music to his sensitive ears.

“I live here,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

At least she didn’t sound angry about it. More curious. It made him smile, but then, she always did that.

“I have something for you,” he said, accepting defeat and dropping down to the balcony. “Not quite a glass slipper but…” He held out the sketchpad, and as she lit up, he was suddenly glad she’d been on the balcony.

“I can’t believe you found it!” Marinette exclaimed, standing up to take it. She quickly flipped through the pages, as though making sure an errant smudge of dirt hadn’t found its way on to one of the pages. She paused on the sketch clearly based off his suit, at once noticing his scrawled note in the margins: ‘Chat Noir Seal of Appur-oval’. She ran a finger over the signature, and he nearly purred, as though she were running that finger over his bare skin.

“I can’t believe you made the trip, either,” Marinette said, placing the book carefully on her chair. “You must be pretty busy, what with saving Paris and all.”

Chat Noir tried not to let her words affect him, but some of his chagrin must have shown on his face because she immediately frowned. “Never too busy for a fellow teammate,” he said easily, forcing a grin. “It was the least I could do, especially since I’m the reason Multimouse only got one shot.”

But Marinette’s frown only deepened. “Multi…mouse?”

“Yeah,” Chat Noir said, swinging his tail super-casually in one hand. Totally normal conversation. Totally normal conversation he was not taking advantage of because his Lady had disappeared. “That was what you called yourself, when Ladybug gave you the Miraculous, right?”

“I…guess it was,” Marinette said slowly. She looked like she was about to say something else, but her face abruptly smoothed, replaced by an easy smile. “Yeah. Don’t sweat it; whatever happened was probably my fault, not yours.”

Suddenly Chat Noir found himself struggling not to pour his heart out to this girl, to not ruin everything he’d worked so hard to maintain over the past year and half. But what was even the point? His Lady was gone, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his own mistake with a partner who was doing her best but was still inexperienced, and a guardian who was even less forthcoming than Fu had been, something he hadn’t even imagined could be possible until it happened.

And that was why he never should have come here. He was blurring the lines, between his civilian life and his vigilante one. And he was putting Marinette at risk - just like he’d done to his Lady.

“Chat Noir?” Marinette said before he could make up some lame excuse to leave. “If we were teammates once, then… well, to me, that means we’re friends. If you need help, or just…a place to rest for a little while? You can always come here.”

Her kindness was the final nail in his coffin, the reason he teased and joked and flirted; because he knew if anyone was ever genuine with him, it would break his heart. She was breaking it now. And now he had to break hers, too.

“Thanks for the offer, Mousinette,” he said, wincing internally. Dumb. So dumb. He had never sounded dumber. Mousinette. He should cataclysm himself right now. “But like I said before, damsels to rescue, Ladies to save. I’m fine. Although,” he said quickly, struck by inspiration, “Can I ask you a few questions about when you were Multimouse? I know Ladybug swore you to secrecy, but of course, the cat’s already out of the bag.”

“Uh, sure,” Marinette said, biting her lip, “But - ”

“Great!” Finally, a possible lead! He should of thought of this sooner. So dumb! And if this one didn’t work out, there was always Nino, Alya, and the others. “When Ladybug gave you the miraculous…she was suited up, right?”

Marinette frowned, then nodded. “I guess…?”

“Yeah, I guess she would have to be,” Chat Noir agreed. That would have been too easy. “Any chance Ladybug might be someone you know? Maybe a friend?”

Marinette seemed taken aback, but she shook her head. “No, Chat Noir, I swear, I have no idea who Ladybug is, and if I did, I’d never tell anyone.”

“No, no, I know you wouldn’t,” Chat Noir back peddled quickly. “I just thought I’d ask since I was here. We protect each other, that’s…that’s all.”

Marinette nodded. “I get it,” she said sweetly. “You’re a team.”

“Yup,” Chat Noir said as though chewing glass. “Me and her against the world. Thanks, Marinette. I won’t keep you. After all, it’s a school night.”

“No problem,” Marinette said, turning around for her book as he deployed his baton. “Thanks again for returning this. I swear this book has half my life in it.”

Chat Noir froze. “That book…?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, thumbing through the pages one more time. “It’s practically a scrap book of my best work.”

“Right,” Chat Noir said, the muscle’s in his back tensing as he prepared to leave. “Thank you, Marinette. You’ve been a great help.”

“Me?” Marinette asked. “You’re the one who brought my sketchpad back.”

“Good night.” He left without more of a goodbye. There was no time. There never really had been, not for feeling sorry for himself anyway. Not when his Lady was out there waiting for him.

But he’d been honest thanking Marinette: she had been a great help, in reminding him of one very important detail that he’d forgotten until then, that Salem had withheld from him, thinking he’d be too distracted or disinterested to pursue it.

The Miracle Box didn’t come without instructions.

#echoes of you #echoes #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #fic #writing

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

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Not Your (soul)Mate {1/?}

Killian Jones doesn’t like the idea of soulmates. He sees how happy his friends are with theirs, but he still doesn’t like the idea, not when he’s found love and lost it time and time again only to still not know his sign. He has no markings on his skin, no voices in his head, but then one day he meets Emma Swan and everything changes. Because, well, he may not have ink on his skin to tell him who to love, but the very first time that he hears Emma’s voice he knows that she’s the one for him. Then again, that could simply be his desire talking. After all, for every word she speaks, he becomes aroused.

It’s not the worst thing in the world to be incredibly attracted to a beautiful woman, but things aren’t that simple when she doesn’t have any interest in being his soulmate.

He’s screwed. And not in the good way.

Rating: Mature (mostly for jokes now and for...other things later)

A/N: Hello, friends! It’s me coming at you with more words! This time they’re of the supernatural variety for @cssns with *gasp* a soulmate fic. It’s a fun one guys. Seriously. It’s an absolutely ridiculous concept (soulmates + aroused by each other’s voices), but I’m having fun writing it! I’ve got eight chapters written so far, and I’m itching to share them with you!

A special shoutout to @captainsjedi for her incredible artwork and for being my number one cheerleader as these words were dragged out of me. I feel super honored for her to have made this art for my story! And thank you to the organizers for doing such great work! So, everybody ready? 😁

Found on AO3 | Here |

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @dreameronarooftop15 @searchingwardrobes @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @artistic-writer @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81@thejollyroger-writer @xellewoods @cssns

-/-

One.

Two.

Three.

It’s the pattern he keeps tapping against his thigh as he sits at his desk, the clock on the wall ticking loud enough for him to hear. If he’s busy enough, it’s silent. But when he has time to idle and not focus on something in particular, when he’s anxious to get to go home, he can hear each individual tick as the seconds and minutes pass by. He’s always been sensitive to sounds, the quietest of whispers sometimes equivalent to yelling directly in his ear, but over the years, he’s learned to block the sounds out, to control how voices and taps and screeches affect him.

His clock is driving him insane.

He wants to go home.

And it’s not because he hates his job or anything. Sure, some days it’s like actual torture, nails on a chalkboard multiplied by at least seventeen, especially with the sensitivity of his ears, but most of the time he enjoys designing boats, ships, and the like. He enjoys working with Liam every single day and getting to draw up someone’s dream vessel like he often did as a child when he had nothing more than a pencil and a notebook of battered paper. Really, his job is a way to make his childhood dreams become a reality but in a financially responsible way.

For him. Not for the people who buy custom boats.

He likely wouldn’t enjoy it if he didn’t make any money. Designing boats is a hell of a lot of fun, but he does so enjoy having an apartment (some of the American terms have integrated into his vocabulary by now it seems) to go home to and food to eat. Honestly, he likes tea far too much to not be able to afford it.

How stereotypically British is he?

It doesn’t even matter. He likes tea, and he won’t let anyone try to convince him otherwise. His cabinet in his kitchen keeps him supplied with caffeine, and if it’s all arranged by size of bag and flavor, no one has to know that. He doesn’t live with anyone, so it’s completely fine.

Liam would make fun of him for ages if he knew of all of Killian’s little tendencies and specificities on how to run his life. Liam already has too much fun teasing him about the binders and books on his shelves in his office, but really, of all of the places to be organized, why not in the office? It’s not his fault that Liam lives in a disorganized mess.

Once a Navy man, always a Navy man doesn’t quite hold true when it comes to one half of the team at The Jewel: A Boating Design Company. He was never sold on the name, but it was Liam’s idea so he went along with it. And the odd name hasn’t seemed to keep any clients away, so it’s obviously worked out.

He still wants to go home.

And technically he could. Technically he’s a boss here and could go home whenever he wants, but he doesn’t like to leave before six. It’s bad business, and it’s never a bad thing to keep his mind focused on work. He’s always got a million thoughts whirling around in his head, and focusing on work keeps him grounded.

But today is a different day. Today is difficult for him. It’s an anniversary of sorts, but it’s not the good kind. It’s not roses (or sunflowers because in his opinion, roses are overrated) and wine and beautiful jewelry over a nice dinner with small servings when all people really want is to sit at home and eat pizza on the couch. No, it’s an anniversary of loss.

Of loss that’s not as final as death, and yet it still has its own particular sting that tends to linger. It’s a loss in his life that he’s felt many a time, but this one, this particular woman, well, her loss stung the most.

Her loss stings the most.

And it’s all because of the universe and its twisted sense of fate. He doesn’t mean that in a “weird shit happens” kind of way. He means that in the universe is a piece of shit that has lives decided before the people who live them are even born. It doesn’t matter what you do or how you live. The universe is always standing at the plate ready to throw a curveball and strike you out.

One strike.

Two strikes.

Three strikes.

You’re out.

Soulmate.

Or soul mate with two words. The universe has everything predestined, but apparently, they couldn’t decide on words in dictionaries and whether or not it was one combined word or two separate words. And that’s just scratching the surface of language and grammar, and he only speaks English and a tiny bit of French. Things just get more complicated when you move beyond that.

But that’s not the point. He can worry about grammar on another day. Right now he’s thinking about the unfortunateness of soulmates (soul mates…nope, he’s just going to decide it’s one word for him) and just how completely screwed up it all is.

No one really knows how the human race figured out that there are two people who are perfectly matched up in every single way. It doesn’t mean there aren’t fights and arguments and petty squabbles over who did the dishes or turning the air conditioner up too high. It simply means that somewhere out there, there’s a person who, when it counts, matches up to you so well that the universe has decided to they are your person.

They are the Christina Yang to your Meredith Grey.

(Yes, he’s watched Grey’s Anatomy, and no, he is not ashamed...of seasons one through six. It gets a little murky after that.)

But what happens if your soulmate dies? What happens if you never meet them? What happens if you fall in love with someone only to find out that their sign or their mark or their soul doesn’t at all match up with yours? What happens if you love someone so deeply that you don’t think your heart can take it anymore, and they leave you because the words written across their ankle are not also written across yours?

What happens if you don’t have words written at all?

He doesn’t. He doesn’t have the words. He doesn’t have any kind of indication as to how to find this so-called perfect match of his. He has no idea.

And he doesn’t need to ask the question of what happens when you love someone who is not your soulmate because he knows. He knows that the love can be real and deep and true, and yet the moment that person finds their matching mark, suddenly things start to crumble and fall apart. Questions begin to be asked, and there are no answers. There are no answers that are correct anyhow. It’s as if you’re taking one of those standardized tests where all four answers are correct, but you have to choose the one that’s the most correct.

Bullocks.

That’s the most ridiculous thing in the world, and yet he’s taken the standardized tests. He had to, but that’s really not the point.

(Also, he wonders if soulmate magic is real, are other types of magic real? Is Harry Potter based off of something true? Could he have gone to Hogwarts?)

Milah found her soulmate, and it wasn’t him. She loved him, but she let him go. And he cannot begrudge her for it. No, she’s doing what will truly make her happy, and he wants her to be happy. She deserves it.

He just wishes that it had been him.

The universe apparently had other ideas.

And four years later, he still doesn’t know his mark.

Four years later, he still loves her even if he shouldn’t, even if he knows he should have moved on.

Liam could hear Elsa’s thoughts at night when he was lying down to sleep. It wasn’t in his dreams, though he has heard of those, but simply once the darkness fell outside. They’d known each other in their thoughts since they were children, a love predestined and predetermined that found its way to life despite the countries that were spread out between them. He’s always been jealous of his older brother for a lot of things, but knowing who his love is and getting to know her for his entire life, that may be the thing which fills him with the most envy.

He’s not even sure that he wants to know who his soulmate is, but when he thinks of his brother and the happiness of his life with his wife and his children, he wonders how two people so genetically similar could have such different paths in life.

Robin’s had been a simple tattoo on his forearm. He knew that all he needed was to find his match, and even though it took into his mid-thirties, he did.

Mid-thirties are truly not old – especially since he himself just turned thirty five – but in a society that is obsessed with love and procreation, Robin might as well have been a lonely elderly man with no chance at love…and Robin’s a man. It’s much worse for women, which is fundamentally unfair. But he’s a designer of boats, not a designer of the universe, so he can’t exactly fix that.

Will, well, Will’s soulmate sign is one that Killian is rather fond of if he’s honest. He found Belle because he’d started spending time in a library, and whenever he would touch certain books, fingerprints would start glowing. They were small, dainty things, so he knew that they weren’t his. But the prints glowed, and as he moved throughout the library, he noticed that every book had fingerprints that glowed. And thus he found Belle, the librarian, and even though they don’t seem to match up, they do.

Everyone he knows is living life with someone they’re supposed to be with, happiness and issues all combined, and he’s…not.

He doesn’t think his life will suddenly become perfect if he were to meet this mystery woman. He doesn’t. His life is wonderful. He loves his friends and family. He loves his job and his hobbies. He loves his life.

Today is simply a hard day.

Today is simply a day of loss.

But tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow he’ll go back to normal, and he won’t feel the loss of his love so much.

As much.

“Hey, did you get the Santos order?”

“Shit,” he mumbles, jumping in his seat at Ariel’s voice. He knows that she likely spoke at a normal volume, but he wasn’t focusing and had zoned out. Her voice startled him. It doesn’t help that she takes pleasure in annoying him. “Sorry, love. You surprised me.”

“I knocked three times there, Jones,” she sighs, walking into his office and dropping a note down on his desk. “I know it’s late in the day and all, but you’re really zoning out.”

“That is the pot calling the kettle black, A,” he laughs, rolling forward in his chair to look at the note she has, her chicken scratch written across the notecard. “You zone out at lunch thinking about how someone invented the fork.”

“It’s true. You’ve got to think about things like that. You okay though? You’ve got that pensive, brooding look all over your face.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes before looking up at her and stretching his hands up behind his head, the small ache pleasant. “I’m going to fire you for someone who doesn’t know me as well.”

“My severance package would be fantastic, so you can go ahead and do that. But I also know you’d be lost without me, so that’s not going to happen. No one else in the world knows which pens of yours not to use.”

“That can be taught.”

“Yeah, but no one else is going to accept your weirdness.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Anyways,” she sighs, sitting down in the chair across from his desk and crossing her leg over her knee, “Eric and I are having a dinner at our house on Friday night, and you’re coming.”

He raises an eyebrow while he tries to keep his lips from curling up into a smile because he knows exactly why they’re having a dinner. She’s been his assistant for three years, and somewhere along the way she became one of his closest friends. She also drives him mad with how she doesn’t listen to him at all.

“Are you not even asking? Just demanding?”

She shrugs and flicks a speck off of her pants. “I’m telling you. It’s at seven, lots of our friends are coming, and you will be there if I have to drag you kicking and screaming.”

He hums and taps his fingers against the desk, the sound of his clock no longer in his earshot. “Fine. I think maybe I can be persuaded by some free food that I know is really a dinner party to announce your pregnancy.”

Her lips part, jaw nearly dropping, before she snaps it shut and gets up, walking over to him and knocking him upside the head. “You’re an asshole. That’s supposed to be a secret. How the hell did you know?”

“This note that you just gave me has baby names and a gynecologist appointment on it and not the Santos order.”

“Pregnancy brain is a real thing,” she huffs before slapping his head again and walking out of the room.

“Congratulations,” he shouts, leaning forward in his chair and smiling to himself. It’s a day of loss, but not everything is bad. It’s also a day of life.

He does spend the night drowning himself in a glass of rum, but it’s just the one filled a little too close to the brim. And he doesn’t spend entirely too much time thinking about Milah and all of the women and heartbreak that have come before her. He only spends what he would consider an acceptable amount of time, and if it was most of the night, no one has to know that but him.

Those are the perks of living alone.

Well, that and eating food in nothing but his boxers while watching reruns of whatever the hell he wants.

The Office.

It was The Office. He spends far too much time watching The Office and also…in his office. But that’s something else. That’s work, and it’s not filled with quite the same amount of comedy. Though he is thinking about putting Liam’s stapler in some jello. That’s not as funny in real life, but he’s not exactly sure if he’s desperate enough to wrap up Liam’s entire office in wrapping paper.

It’d have to be some birthday paper or something. It’s April, so Christmas paper likely wouldn’t work. Of course, it’s April, so Christmas paper would likely be on sale. This is sounding better and better, but he’s not going to do it. He’s going to keep on going with his life and make sure that Ariel isn’t setting him up on a date at this dinner party he’s been at for thirty minutes like he’s pretty sure she’s doing with her friend Jane.

Amazingly enough, the existence of soulmates does not keep people from setting him up on blind dates.

You’d think there would be at least one perk.

Besides the whole perfect match thing and all.

That’s supposedly a perk.

“Would you excuse me for just one minute, love?” he asks Jane, flashing her his most sincere smile and squeezing her shoulder before walking toward his brother who is talking to Will and Robin in the corner of the backyard.

“BJ,” Will greets, grinning from ear to ear as Killian shakes his head.

“You cannot call me that, Scarlett,” he groans. His protests don’t matter at all, but he can hope. He can hope that one day one of his friends will listen to him.

It’s a pipe dream.

“Well, baby Jones isn’t quite as funny as BJ.”

“You have the humor of a fifteen-year-old lad.”

“At least I’m not boring like you,” he scoffs before he takes another sip of his beer. “How’s your little date going over there?”

“So you can tell that it’s a set up?”

“Little brother,” Liam sighs, clapping his hand down on his shoulder, “you scratched your ear enough times for us to know you were nervous. Plus Ariel told us. She was practically jumping out of her skin with excitement.”

“Younger. I’m younger, and of course she did. Jane is…she’s a nice woman, but I’m not really in the mood for another date.”

Suddenly his head starts pounding, sounds muting for a moment before he hones in on a laugh, a laugh that has his skin heating and gooseflesh rising over his arms as he only focuses in on it before all of the other sounds come back to him, the laugh fading into the background. He doesn’t know what the hell just happened, but he’s not going to focus on it when he’s got to deal with his brother and his best mates being undeniable assholes.

Tuning things out has always kind of been his thing anyways.

“It doesn’t have to be a date,” Robin helpfully supplies, “but I think the lass likes you, so I’d turn her down easy.”

“There’s nothing to turn down.”

“She might not know that.”

“Anyways,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, “how long do you think A is going to drag this along until we get to eat dinner?”

“I’d say until she finishes talking to her friends over there.” Liam points to a group of women standing on the other side of the deck. He recognizes Ariel and her friend Mary Margaret. He’s been to her house and met her husband. David? He thinks his name is David and that he’s a detective. And obviously he recognizes his sister-in-law, but he doesn’t recognize two of them. One of them is tall, her legs stretching on for miles, and she’s got straight brunette hair that falls down her back with the tips of it covered in red. The other woman is shorter, but not necessarily short, and her blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail so that he can see the openness of her dress as it dips down her bare back and rests just above the curve of her waist. He doesn’t know her at all, and he wonders how. Ariel may simply work with him, but she’s made him such a part of her personal life that he feels like he knows all of her friends.

Then again, he didn’t know Jane, so obviously she has several friends she wants to announce her pregnancy to that he’s never met. They’re all ships passing in the night.

Of course, it’s not quite night yet and they’re definitely not ships, but his point still stands.

Or sails.

He can design a ship that would work for this purpose.

He has too much time on his hands.

All of the sounds mute again before the same laugh as before comes back, but this time he knows exactly where the sound is coming from. It’s coming from the blonde who’s talking to Ariel, and he can feel his skin heating up again, the flesh pricking and hair rising across his body as a shiver runs through him. He knows this feeling. He knows it well. It’s the start of something that he usually finds pleasant, but it’s not something that he finds pleasant while standing in a public place with all of his friends around.

Will may have the humor of a teenager, but apparently Killian has the uncontrollable sex drive of one.

Shit.

This is not good.

He needs to think of the government or his grandmother or people who think Hawaiian shirts can be worn to the office as casual wear when they live in Maine because his jeans are rather tight and he’s afraid that nothing can be hidden when he’s feeling a little excited.

Or a lot excited.

When he should not be excited at all.

Oh hell. He’s aroused. He’s not excited. He’s aroused, and there is absolutely no reason for it. Does he even need a reason? Probably not. Still though. This is a problem he doesn’t really want to have right now at his assistant’s barbecue to announce that she’s created a spawn of her loins.

Those are the only loins he should be thinking about.

Not Ariel’s loins, though. That is…this is all too much for him.

“Hey, lover boy,” Will whistles, and suddenly the laughter is fading away so that he can focus on the sound of Will’s whistle and the wind that’s causing the leaves on trees to rustle and mix in with all of the conversations that are happening, “you’ve got to stop staring at Emma or she will kick your ass all the way back to England.”

Emma.

“Who is that?” he ponders, reaching to scratch his beard. He should have shaved this morning, but he didn’t have time to clean his scruff up. “Emma? You said her name was Emma?”

“Aye,” Will confirms, his fingers tapping along the glass of his bottle and picking up the condensation. “Emma Swan. She lives with Belle. I’m bloody terrified of her sometimes, but she’s fun.”

“Why are you terrified of her?”

“Because she’s a cop. A detective, I think, and I’ve seen first hand just how good she is at kickboxing.”

“Why? Did you beat your ass for saying something dumb?”

Will rolls his eyes as both Robin and Liam chuckle, even if they try to muffle the sound. “I may have said something a bit unsavory one night, and she may have literally kicked my ass for it. But I’m on the straight and narrow path now.”

“Huh. So she did what we’ve all been wanting to do for years now. I like her.”

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Liam prods, wrapping his arm around Killian’s shoulder and slapping him harder than he should. “Are you scared to talk to another girl? Is this going to be like teenage Killian who can’t flirt with more than one woman in a day without being terrified of having to do it again?”

“Sod off.”

“I’m telling you,” Liam starts, but Killian moves out from under his arm and walks away from the group of them so that he can go inside and get a glass of water, not really interested in hearing Liam teasing him about his childhood. It doesn’t bother him, but he’s heard it all before and doesn’t really need to hear about it again. It’s still been A Week, and there’s only so much teasing about his relationships that he can take when he’s still mourning the loss of one.

Once he gets into the kitchen, he grabs a cup off the counter and fills it with ice and water from the fridge, the sound of the ice machine drowning everything out so that he doesn’t hear someone come in behind him. He doesn’t hear her, so he’s got no idea that she’s within a foot of him when he turns around and hits her shoulder, the cup of ice cold water in his hand spilling all over the front of her dress.

Of Emma’s dress.

Of Emma’s white dress.

Because it’s the woman who he was just admiring who he spilled a drink on.

“Holy shirt-balls that’s cold.”

He wants to laugh at her words, at her The Good Place reference, but then it’s happening again. His skin is heating, his temperature rising by several noticeable degrees, and he can feel the hair on his body begin to rise while his jeans tighten. How are his jeans still tightening? His erection can’t get any worse.

Holy shirt-balls indeed.

What the hell is happening to him?

“I’m sorry, love,” he stutters, trying to focus his hearing so that everything won’t be so heightened, but then his eyes glance down at the way that the material of her dress is clinging to her skin, the edges molding to her breasts, and everything gets worse. So, so much worse. He loves women. He’s never denied that. But hell, he should not be having this kind of reaction. This is not some kind of bad porn movie.

This is not some kind of raunchy romantic comedy either.

This is his life.

She’s got fantastic breasts.

Nope. Nope. Nope. He can’t be thinking that. He shouldn’t be thinking that. Something is happening to him, and he needs it to stop.

“I mean, I would say it’s not your fault, but you did spill the water on me,” she laughs, grabbing onto her dress and squeezing the water out a bit as she makes her way further into the kitchen to grab a towel and wipe herself down.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Again. You’re Emma, right?”

She’s still dabbing at her dress when she looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. Her cheeks are flushed red, and he’s not sure if it’s from spending the evening outside or from the embarrassment of him spilling water on her. But she’s got these beautifully flushed cheeks and light emerald eyes that can’t seem to focus on him, her gaze constantly changing.

With how uncomfortable his jeans are right now, he’s honestly kind of wishing that he had ice water dumped on him.

Seriously. What the hell is happening to him?

“Um, yeah. How do you know that?”

“Will told me. I’m…we’re old friends. Killian. Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan,” she sighs, continuing to dab at her dress while he looks away. He has to look away or he’s going to do something inappropriate by anyone’s standards. Something is happening to him, to his mind and his body, and he needs it to stop right now. “You know, if you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was introduce yourself, no spilled water involved. And if you wanted to see my tits, well, I should warn you that I carry around a gun for a living, and I don’t take too kindly to things like that.”

“I can promise you that wasn’t my intention.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at me right now?”

“Swan, if I’m honest, it’s because I can see both through and down your dress, and it’s not proper to look no matter how much I want to.”

Holy shit. Why did he just say that?

“Is it hot in here?” Emma asks, changing the subject, and he has never been more thankful for anything in his entire life. Though, really, if she could stop talking, he would be thankful for that too. Her voice is focused in his ears, every word reverberating and spinning around so that he can focus on nothing but her. It’s like her laughter earlier. His body instinctively tuned into it, focused on it, and it caused this same feeling of arousal to base itself at his spine.

And every word she says, makes it worse.

Fuck.

He somehow knows what’s happening, his brain instantly making the connections, and if he could walk out the front door and have never come to this party, he probably would.

Emma Swan is mostly likely his soulmate if the way his senses are picking up are any indication, and every word she says gives him the most inappropriate erection.

Her voice arouses him, and it’s not in a normal way.

Of all the soulmate signs, why this?

Couldn’t he have gotten a damn butterfly tattoo right above his ass instead?

#Not Your (soul)Mate #cs fic #cs ff #cssns #captain swan #captain swan fic

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lil-creatorwritings · 5 years ago

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Author Interview

I got tagged by @alloveroliver ! Not sure how this will go but let’s do it~

Name: Well you can call me Becky! Trust me, my surname is a tongue twister and you don’t need to know that.

Fandoms: Er dear lord, that’s a lot if I count the ones outside of otome. If we’re talking just that, then it’s mainly Cybird titles (MidCin, IkeSen, IkeRev and IkeVamp). I have anime and video games fandoms too and you can ask me about that here or on my personal blog! Want to do in the future: Write more, I guess. And get a new phone for more otome games!

Where You Post: Tumblr and AO3 for my fics. Twitter is mostly for my ranting about routes or something about the otome and my main place for finding fanart (and retweeting them, BECAUSE WE DON’T STEAL OTHER PEOPLE’S FANARTS).

Most Popular One-Shot: It’s apparently my Day 2 Kinktober. A lot of y’all are thirsty for some Leonardo smut eh?

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: The MitsuhidexOC smut trilogy (which I am now calling the Phone Call trilogy lol). It’s hilarious because whenever I think of this story, I remember that it wasn’t suppose to be a trilogy in the first place (it was a one-shot but then someone aggressively persuaded me into writing more of it). I honestly didn’t expect it to blow up like that (and I underestimated the Mitsuhide stans hahaha). Here is part 1, 2 and 3.

Favorite Story You Wrote: Probably my Day 21 of a 31 Day Writing Challenge I did in 2018. I also had an original work, but it’s been put on the back burner for awhile now.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: Five, which was my first IkeSen fic. I was nervous because I wasn’t sure if I got Masamune’s character right and for a personal reason (that I’m just gonna leave at that hahah).

How You Choose Your Titles: Most of the time, I either have a pending title for it or the title comes to me first as I’m writing it. The general theme of the story also has weight on its title.

Completed: 70-ish fics. Which reminds me that I need to fix and update my Masterlist lol.

Incomplete: *tucks away my wips and google docs of future fic ideas* What incomplete works? Who is she? (lol but seriously maybe..2 or 3. I don’t usually write something and then start another one without completing the previous one, which is probably why I have few incomplete WIPs--because if I didn’t start on it, it’s technically not incomplete lol.)

Do You Outline?: When I first started writing, not so much in the way that I would write them in bullets or a flow chart. I would imagine the scene in my head then write it out, which works for me most of the time. I suppose you could argue that it’s a form of outlining too.. But I mostly type or write the general flow of my fic when my thoughts start to wander and branch out of my original idea to keep me in check.

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: An IkeRev Ray fic that... I’ll be honest it’s a little diamond in the rough, and the theme isn’t really a pleasant thing to talk about. But this is a fic that I feel compelled to write for personal reasons. I don’t want to say much now because I’m not even sure how to start it as of right now. But I do want to write it. There’s also a soulmate AU I want to do for IkeVamp (and for some reason I wanted to do it with Arthur but I haven’t done his route yet), an IkeRev mafia AU (trying to steer away from the ‘crystals are drugs’ and think up of another idea), an IkeSen detective with that femme fatale thing (look idk what the genre is called but think Bioshock Infinite: Burial at Sea), an Edgar Bright art student AU, and just... more stuff lol. But more smut!

Do You Accept Prompts?: I do, but I rarely get them. Maybe because I don’t get to them on time and my followers don’t bother to ask me for stuff lol :( . I don’t really mind that I don’t get them, since I often write my own ideas. But I mean, feel free to drop one if you want to!

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: Uh, I guess to finish my Kinktober..?? yes shut up i know its 2020

(Apparently the next questions were added by Ash, so I’ll go ahead and answer them too~)

What do you use to edit?: Currently, I’m not using any third party writing editor. That’s just my personal preference though.

Writing setup: My main set up is in my room, sitting in front of my desk with my laptop and bluetooth keyboard (some of the letters on the laptop aren’t working, so I use an external one. I always have a water bottle with me (because I could sit for hours) and Spotify playing on my phone on speaker. I use Google Docs for all of my fics. Sometimes I’ll go mobile and hook my bluetooth keyboard to my phone and type from there, especially if I can’t stay in my room.

Do you use a beta reader? Nope. For some reason, it’s not a habit of mine to ask someone to beta read my work, though I have done it a few times before. I write, walk away from it, come back to proofread, post, then try to stop obsessing over if it will get notes or not.

Where do you get your writing inspo?: A lot of places--books, songs, anime, tv shows, the internet, other people, prompt lists.. As to the motivation to write, well, that’s something that I’m also struggling with right now hahaha.

Can we get a quote from an upcoming WIP?:

It wasn’t much of a surprise. This amount of workload always comes with the highest ranking officer in the army, and you’ve always understood that. There are some things that can’t be delegated or that specifically need his approval. Yet it didn’t stop you from feeling a little left out and wanting some of his attention.

Feeling restless, you push off the table and head towards the door. If he was still working, there was only one other person you could think of to keep you company. Skipping down the hallway, you stop in front of one of the doors before knocking on it enthusiastically. “Hm? Little lady?”

Sirius’ room was pristine as always. You step in and plop down on his bed, not caring if your skirts ride up your thighs. “Ray’s still working.”

He smiles and sits down next to you. “And I suppose you came to me to keep you entertained?”

This time, you pout at him. “So what if I did?”

Idk who to tag so if any of my followers (who haven’t done this) see this, go do it!

#mepp #she tagged my personal blog but imma post it here lol

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theharellan · 5 years ago

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Dragon Age Words I’ve Written Over the Years

I say “words” because some of my favourite work I’ve written in threads. Most are Solas-centric because this is a Solas rp blog, but not all. @unofficialdragonageday

Dare to be in the Company of Those Stronger Than You, 2015-2019. Fan written banter between the canon characters of Dragon Age: Inquisition and Solas. Find more (including OC and non-DA:I characters) here in my banter tag.

Tales of Fen’Harel, 2017. There are always two sides to every legend. A series of original legends about Fen'Harel.

Five Times Defended, 2019. Solas & Mythal, platonic. Five times Solas put his life or word on the line for Mythal.

A Memory That Strains, 2019. Solas & Mythal, platonic. He had always thought of her as the best of them, but when he sees a path forward for the People, she draws back. Solas confronts Mythal in her temple on the eve of the Elvhen Rebellion.

Five Times Enlightened, 2019. Solas & Wisdom, platonic. Wisdom was one of his oldest and dearest friends, and had offered him countless lessons over its existence, and beyond.

It Tastes of Despair, 2017. This world tries to mimic the one Solas knows, the ways in which it falls short leaves him hollow.

I Cannot Come In (Unless You Dream of Me), 2017. (tumblr, ao3) nb!Lavellan x Solas. When word of Ian’s capture reaches Solas, he does everything within his power to see him brought safely home. Strongly recommended that you read @theshirallen‘s drabble, “And My Heart Cannot Be,” first as this is a response to it.

Never Far From My Mind, 2019. (tumblr: part i, part ii) nb!Lavellan x Solas. Brief moments where Solas thinks of Ian, part of a continuing series.

A Name That Fits, 2019. (tumblr, ao3) nb!Lavellan x Solas. While Dreaming in the Hissing Wastes, Solas finds himself confronted with a spirit sickened with fear. In his efforts to heal it, he is forced to confront uncomfortable feelings about his own identity, and seek comfort in another’s arms.

Five Times Loved, 2016. nb!Lavellan x Solas. Five times Solas demonstrates his love for Ian, set during one of the hardest points in Ian’s life.

Naked, Vulnerable, but Completely Content, 2018. (tumblr, ao3) nb!Lavellan x Solas. Nights of sleeplessness sometimes call for creative solutions. Solas suggests Ian Lavellan try a lavender-scented bath, but Ian would rather not enjoy it by himself.

Five Times Flirted, 2018. nb!Lavellan x Solas. Burgeoning feelings between Solas and Ian are slow to take root. This world and its customs are strange, but he feels he needs to make his affection known.

Five Times Solas Held a Baby, 2018. nb!Lavellan x Solas. Ian keeps handing babies to Solas for some reason.

First Kiss, 2017. (ao3, tumblr) nb!Lavellan x Solas. “For just a moment, I want to be brave in ways I’ve never tried before.” Ian Lavellan kisses Solas for the first time.

Apodyopis, 2019. (tumblr, ao3) nb!Lavellan x Solas. The act of mentally undressing someone. Solas finds himself hoping something more will come of tonight, but knows his desires are not the only ones which matter.

Was It Only a Kiss?, 2018. nb!Lavellan x Solas. A roleplay thread between myself and @theshirallen about Solas and Ian’s first true kiss.

Five Times Hugged, 2018. (tumblr, ao3) Solas & f!Cadash, platonic. Solas isn’t much of a hugger, but Thora is.

Expectations, 2019. (tumblr, ao3) Solas & f!Cadash, platonic. Rewrite of the balcony scene between Solas and my Inquisitor, with the conversation taking a different route.

On the Meaning of Names, 2018. Solas & f!Cadash, platonic. Thora takes it upon herself to learn elvhen, and during her lessons happens upon a familiar word.

The Year That Wasn’t, 2019. nb!Lavellan x Solas, Solas & f!Cadash, platonic. This is technically unfinished but it’s a thread between myself, myself, and @theshirallen that I love enough to share in its incomplete state. Set during the quest In Hushed Whispers, where Ian can be picked up alongside other companions.

All We Are is a Promise, 2015. (tumblr, ao3) f!Cadash x Blackwall. Thora and Blackwall spend their first night together after taking him back post-personal quest.

That Mercy you to others show, show that Mercy to Me, 2017. (tumblr, ao3) f!Cadash x Blackwall, Solas x nb!Lavellan. Solas seeks wisdom in an Inquisitor who chose to forgive Blackwall.

Let’s Be Selfish, 2019. (tumblr, ao3) f!Cadash x Harding. The Orlesian Civil War was over, but its conclusion left Thora Cadash feeling hollow and tired. Lace tries to lighten the evening, to do something to reclaim it for themselves.

Morning After Kiss, 2019. (tumblr, ao3) Merrill x Sera. It’s funny, waking up in the wrong bed but the right place. Merrill finds herself at home in Sera’s sheets after a night of fun.

Forbidden Kiss, 2019. (tumblr, ao3) f!Aeducan x Gorim. Gorim and Tamar Aeducan don’t have the luxury of being open with their affection.

You Are Not Alone, 2015. Solas has left the Inquisition, but his ghost lingers in Skyhold’s walls. A short piece on what Solas’ absence might feel like to those he left behind.

Taking Up the Grey, 2014. A series of drabbles following a Warden Carver Hawke and his interactions with the cast of Dragon Age: Awakening.

I don’t want this to take up more space than it already will on the dash, so I’ll link you to my writing tag on Solas and my DA multi and leave it at this. Thank you to my rp partners for the five years of inspiration! ❤️

#solas #dragon age #dragon age day #inquisitor cadash #( ooc )#( long post )#[ speaking of writing i will be doing some after i eat ]#[ also im so sorry for the repost. i forgot to tag the blog i meant to tag rip ]

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five-wow · 5 years ago

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Author Asks

Rules: answer these questions and tag five other fic writers to do the same.

I was tagged by the wonderful @novemberhush. Thank you, omg, because I love rambling about writing and this is the best kind of opportunity to do so, handed on a silver platter, ahh. 😊

Author Name: Square / Squares / SquaresAreNotCircles

Fandoms You Write For: I’m a fandom hopper! In the past year or so it’s been Hawaii Five-0 (a truly ridiculous amount), Shadowhunters, Venom, Harry Potter, due South and Stargate Atlantis. Other fandoms I’ve written at least one fic for are Twilight, Doctor Who, Torchwood, Glee, BBC Merlin, BBC Atlantis, Teen Wolf, In The Flesh, Star Wars, Supernatural, the MCU and High School Musical. And uh, Alexander the Great/Voltaire fic (which would be... history fandom? RPF?) and one (1) Judas/Jesus Biblefic. If we’re getting really technical, also a tiny little bit of One Direction fic.

It should be noted that all of this is about fic that ended up getting posted somewhere on the interwebs - there are multiple Star Trek (TOS/AOS and DS9) fics lingering in my drafts (!! one day I will finish one of them), as well as some How To Train Your Dragon, The Good Place and Deadpool stuff, and definitely more I’ve forgotten.

Where You Post: Since I made the switch to writing in English everything has landed on ao3, but I used to write mostly in Dutch, so there’s still close to a million words, I think, under my name on quizlet.nl (not to be confused with quizlet.com, which is a very different website).

Most Popular One-Shot: That depends on how you’re measuring popularity! Going by kudos, it’s Tell me I’m perfect (but tell me the truth), a Magnus/Alec Shadowhunters fic. It’s the truth is a really old fic about Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood from Harry Potter that has the most hits out of all my works, and That time Steve kissed every single Avenger (and also Bucky), an MCU Steve/Bucky fic, has the greatest number of comment threads.

Also, since this is an h50 blog: for my fic in this fandom Wanted: partner (in crime) has the most kudos and hits; You had me at meow has the most comments.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: I’m working on one for h50 (going slowly, so slowly), but I don’t have any posted to ao3. I used to write a lot of multi-chaptered work in my quizlet.nl days, and I think my most popular fic there was probably the second fic I ever wrote, when I was fourteen or fifteen, which was a next-gen Harry Potter fic with shifting and overlapping POVs from the three Potter kids. It was kind of, well, not great, but it’s probably what really cemented my writing habit, it’s still my longest fic ever (over a 100k!) and I got my first fandom friends out of it, including one I’m still in contact with to this day, even though neither of us writes much if anything for Harry Potter anymore.

Favourite Story You Wrote: Ohhh, that’s such an impossible question, especially because I’ve been churning out one-shots like I might actually be getting paid for it, so there’s so much to choose from, which is a thing I have difficulty doing at the best of times, holy shit. Uh, I once wrote a 70k Remus/Sirius (Harry Potter) modern college-ish AU in Dutch that I still like; weirdly, I think that Biblefic holds up (also Dutch), and the HSM fic is fun to reread once in a while because of the fourth wall break, as is That escalated quickly, a Percy/Oliver fic. Ooh, and the fic about Shuri and Stucky and a goat!

For h50, it’s even harder to choose, because my preferences change pretty much weekly (a combination of newer fic being shinier, looking back at fic from even just a few months ago and finding things I would have done differently now, and comments influencing the way I personally look at my own fic), but right now, I’d say I still really like the fic where Steve adopts some guinea pigs, the one with the slightly tipsy team bonding by talking about mutual crushes and this 9.11 coda fix fluff getting together thing.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: That Biblefic, haha, because it’s a very complicated topic and my aim was definitely not to offend. People were really sweet about it, though! Mostly, they were kind of shocked it wasn’t crack, but that’s fair, because so was I.

Also pretty much anything I post in a new fandom, really, and low key just... anything at all. I’m always a little scared I tagged something super badly or accidentally copy-pasted the wrong text or unknowingly wrote something super offensive or whatever, despite my double- and triplechecking of the posting form. (I’m also still kind of scared people on ao3 will randomly decide they hate my fic and my writing and me personally (ao3 is really big and very anonymous and coming from the small town that was quizlet.nl even in its heyday, that’s scary), but that fear has abated as I’ve posted more, just because the data is showing pretty conclusively that thought is as irrational as it sounds. Everyone is always so nice, gosh.)

How Do You Pick Your Titles: Mostly, I steal lines from random songs. I have a small pile of song lyrics to use as potential titles, because going on a seperate hunt for every new fic would take most of my waking hours. Sometimes, I’ll use a pun (like You had me at meow or Retail Therapy) or something else that I think sounds good, especially if the fic is mostly comedy and/or has a specific premise that would do well in a title (like Five times the Governor of Hawaii suspects his taskforce leaders are violating fraternization policies (and one time they tell him they are)).

Do You Outline: I’m mostly writing fic of (sometimes much) less than 5k at the moment, so not really. I do sometimes write tiny bits of a bunch of scenes and then fill in the rest around that, which is a kind of outline, in a way. For longer works, I usually make a one page bullet point list of things that need to happen and work from there, because I can’t do really extensive outlining or I’ll just get caught up in the details and lose all of the oversight a tool like that is supposed to give you, as well as most of my enthusiasm for the project.

How Many Of Your Stories Are Complete: Of the ones posted? On ao3, all of them, because unfinished posted one-shot works would require some strange bending of those concepts. On quizlet.nl, I do have some abandoned works, but I think 80% is finished.

In-Progress: SO MUCH. Seriously, just, so much, oh god. I’d really like to write another Stargate Atlantis fic (and I have 30% of one done), and something more for due South, too, and maybe a small Percy/Oliver thing again some time because they were my very first OTP and I kind of miss them, but mostly I have, like, 100+ half written things for h50. I really wish that number was an exaggeration. There’s no way they’ll all get finished, but maybe... a third? Mayhaps?

That One Truly Long H50 Fic that I was already talking about way back in October last year is also eternally “in progress”. The thing is that it has about 25k now, after a year, and I think it needs... at least four times that. Probably. So either I’ll have to stick with this fandom and my slow progress for another three years to have a shot at getting it finished, or I’ll need to find a way to up the speed a little. Maybe I could try working on it for NaNo this November? That would be pretty awesome, but honestly, part of why it’s moving this slowly is because NaNo-style fast and messy writing for this scares me a little, because I might end up writing a lot, decide it’s not what I wanted for it, and become too intimidated to ever edit and/or rewrite the entire thing. But idk, I probably just need to get over my own fears, because I really do want to write Longer Fic again. Short stuff is fun and feels really productive and that’s great, but I miss the actual slow burn and build-up that only 50k+ words can give you.

Coming Soon: Hopefully a lot? For h50, that is. I have no idea what’s getting posted next, because I’m never entirely sure what’s going to be finished next and something really random might come jumping in, but at the moment I’m trying to direct most of my energies at a slightly longer fic I’ve been working on for months (not The Long Fic, a different one), a fic labeled “9.01 memory loss fic”, another one temporarly entitled “Perfect Kauai beach house vacation”, and maybe an ace!Steve fic I’ve been working on, if I ever manage to uh, actually finish that, instead of rewriting three sentences during every round of editing and never actually adding anything to fill in the gaps it still has. There will also be more season 10 codas, in all likelihood.

Do You Accept Prompts: I’ve never done that before in the traditional way, but I’m thinking about it! I’d love to try (and it would be a breath of fresh air, in some ways!), but the main thing holding me back is that I have way too much on my plate with just my own ideas to work off of, and I don’t want to disappoint people. Maybe if I do drabble-ish prompt fills? It’s definitely been on my mind.

Upcoming Story You’re the Most Excited For: I’m excited for a lot of stuff, but honestly, the top spot right now probably goes to the ace!Steve fic. I’m not even sure it’s that good, necessarily, but it’s, idk, really cathartic, I suppose. Seriously self-indulgent in strange but very good ways. I really like writing it. (Second spot goes to the beach vacation fic, because I haven’t actually written that much for it, but it’s been my go-to easy happy place for the last few weeks.)

I’m tagging @love2hulksmash @thekristen999 @stephmcx @girlonastring @flowerfan2 and @pterawaters, which is six people because I can’t count, but I’m about to make it seven because I’m also tagging you, the person reading this (hi there!). Say I tagged you and tag me so I can read it! I know that kind of thing can feel awkward, but it won’t be, because I’m cheering you on. Go for it, if you want to do it. :D

#tagged in #writing #*#question: [requires maybe two words to be answered]#me: [writes two lengty paragraphs]#i guess that also tells you something about what kind of writer i am

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