#looking through a few one shots that people commented on it wrote in the tags

[justafewsmallsteps]

I have a lot of one shots where some very kind cool people want to hear more. Sometimes that really inspires me to write, so thank you! Sometimes I wish I could write, but I don’t have the energy to commit to it!

But if you ever seriously want to know what would happen next, I will likely happily tell you if I have any ideas. Just ask ❤️

[rafedarling]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐲/𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

summary: y/n attends the wedding of her best friend, rafe cameron, and his bride sofia. In a bittersweet moment, she reflects on her deep, unspoken love for rafe as she makes a heartfelt speech during the reception. despite the pain of unrequited love, she stays strong, showing genuine happiness for rafe��s new chapter with sofia. | word count: 1,0k

warning(s): english is not my first language. your point of view, contains themes of unrequited love, emotional vulnerability, and heartache, no happy ending. based on ‘love, rosie’.

au: i wrote small drabble while watching ‘love, rosie’, i hope you’d cry with me, also listen to lost with you by patrick watson while read this. like, reblog and comment/feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @mileyraes @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy @enjoymyloves

His wedding was perfect, or at least it seemed that way to everyone else. Crisp white flowers adorned every table, soft glow candlelight. Sofia looked stunning in her dress—elegant, poised, and radiant in the way brides should be. I could see why Rafe fell for her. She was the picture of everything he probably wanted. Everything.

I stood in the back of the crowd as they exchanged vows, a bittersweet lump forming in my throat. It was strange, watching someone you love pledge their life to someone else. But I had no choice. This was Rafe. He was my best friend before anything else, and even though I had buried my feelings for him for years, today they seemed to rise up like a tidal wave threatening to crash over me.

I should have told him. Maybe not today. Maybe not even yesterday. But a long time ago, when we were still reckless teenagers, when we stayed up all night laughing at dumb inside jokes, and he looked at me like I was the only one in the room. That’s when I should have said it. That I loved him.

But now, it was too late. Sofia was his future. She stood across from him, gripping his hands, tears of happiness filling her eyes, and all I could do was smile and clap like everyone else. Like the supportive friend I’d been for so long.

The reception flowed with music and laughter, the champagne bubbling like the excitement in the air. I was halfway through a glass of wine when the best man finished his speech, and the MC signaled for me to step up to the microphone. My heart raced as I stood, smoothing my dress and moving to the front.

Rafe shot me a look as I walked up, his familiar crooked grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He was happy, genuinely so. And even though my heart was heavy, I couldn’t let that ruin this moment for him.

The microphone was cool in my hand as I cleared my throat, looking out at the sea of faces, some familiar, some not. Then, I found his eyes—Rafe’s deep blue ones—and took a steadying breath.

“For the people who I haven’t had the pleasure to greet… Hi, I’m Y/n,” I started, my voice sounding steadier than I expected. “Rafe and I have known each other forever. We’ve been through it all together—good times, bad times, and some incredibly embarrassing times. Rafe, for example, can drink to an almost lethal alcohol concentration.”

A few laughs rippled through the crowd, and Rafe chuckled, shaking his head in mock embarrassment. I smiled, feeling the warmth of our shared memories.

“On my 18th birthday, he decided that the best way to celebrate was tequila. Lots and lots of tequila. And while I’m pretty sure we both blocked most of that night from memory, I can confirm that Rafe is, indeed, capable of not remembering an entire evening.”

The room filled with laughter, and even Sofia laughed along, her hand resting gently on Rafe’s arm. I swallowed hard, pushing down the pang in my chest.

“But in all seriousness,” I continued, my tone softening, “choosing the person to share your life with is one of the most important decisions we make. Because if you get it wrong, life can become… well, gray. We both know that well, don’t we, Rafe?” I smiled at him, and for a second, I saw the flicker of understanding in his eyes.

“Your friendship has brought color to my life, and I’ve been lucky enough to have you by my side in some of the darkest moments.” My voice wavered slightly, but I kept going. “I’m the luckiest person in the world for that. And I hope I haven’t ever taken it for granted, though maybe I have at times. Because sometimes, you don’t realize that the best thing that ever happened to you has been right under your nose all along.”

I paused, letting the words hang in the air. Rafe’s smile softened, but I couldn’t tell if he truly understood what I meant. If he’d ever understood how deeply I cared.

“And that’s okay,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “Because I’ve learned something important: no matter where you are, no matter what you do, or who you’re with, I will always be here for you. I’ll always love you. Like a sister loves her brother, and like a friend loves a friend.”

I saw Rafe’s eyes glisten slightly, and Sofia squeezed his hand tighter, her gaze flicking between us as if trying to decipher something. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t take back the years of silence. This was his day, not mine.

“I’ll always stand guard for your dreams, Rafe,” I finished, raising my glass. “No matter how far-fetched or impossible they may seem. So, let’s raise a toast to the bride and groom. To Rafe and Sofia Cameron.”

The room echoed my words as everyone lifted their glasses in unison. Rafe smiled at me, a genuine, heartfelt smile that felt like a dagger in my chest. But I smiled back, because that’s what friends do. They celebrate the happiness of the ones they love, even if it’s not their own.

As I sat down, I felt the weight of everything I didn’t say pressing down on me. The laughter and chatter around me blurred into background noise as I stared at my glass, running my thumb along its edge. I was happy for him, truly. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling of what could have been.

Maybe in another life, it would’ve been me standing beside him. Maybe in another life, I would have told him how I felt long before today. But in this life, I would remain what I always was—his best friend.

With music and dancing and stolen glances, I realized that sometimes… love isn’t about being with someone. Sometimes, love is about letting go, and hoping that they find happiness, even if it’s with someone else.

[spikershoyo]

I Don't Know You | Robbie Reyes x f!reader | smut | minors DNI!

Warnings and notes: Smut, one-night stand with Robbie, oral sex (fem), Robbie having bi panic, mentions of sex and drinking, Gabe's sleep being disturbed, wrote this on my phone and with very little editing so tell me if I missed anything to tag, this was inspired by the song 'I Don't Know You' by The Marias it's so good, listen to rn,

The sun peeking through the curtains of Robbie’s windows shine over his eyes. They flutter closed again when he’s hit with the light. He moves around a bit and slowly sits up, a hand making its way to hold his head, the steady thump of a headache starting to bloom.

He groans as he takes in his surroundings. He’s home. Safe and sound. He can hear Gabe’s soft snores from the other side of the wall. He looks over at his nightstand, the clock reading 10:14. That’s waking up late to Robbie’s standard on a weekday.

Robbie becomes aware that he’s not wearing anything under his sheets, he takes in the sore feeling of his neck, his back, and his legs. The fan from the ceiling of his room is on the highest setting, spinning around and creating a fresh temperature in his otherwise hot room.

A soft groan comes from him as he stretches out his back, his mind bringing him back to the party from last night. The annoying voice of one of the assholes from his senior year of high school telling him to ‘let loose’ is etched into his mind.

He really did let loose last night.

He didn’t do anything too crazy last night, he hopes, just a lot of drinks and a lot of eye fucking from both him and the people at the party. He remembered the string tequila they had brought out and the Don Q vodka. The most he drank was beer and the occasional shot of something.

What he does remember though is the people he talked to. The redhead who was drunk on mojitos blabbered to him all night, making a not-so-subtle comment on how hot he was.

A few guys he had known prior but didn’t really get a long with. This chick at the bar that was all over him and couldn’t stop reaching for his belt. Yeah, he didn’t let her get too far.

A man who was maybe a few years older than him said he liked Robbie’s jacket, he seemed cool. He was definitely cooler than most people at the party. What he didn’t expect was that the same man was going to have him blushing as he whispered soft words of praise into Robbie’s ear.

In no time, Robbie was stuttering out excuses and apologies, telling the man ‘N-nah, I don’t swing that way. Sorry.’ When it was clear that he had been thinking it over for the last few months after that stupid dare he had done between him and his friends. He won’t admit it’s still buried in the back of his head.

After one too many drinks and flirting here and there, he didn’t even remember if he went home with someone or not. But he found out soon enough when he felt a shuffle from beside him. He was so immersed in his memories of last night that he didn’t even take into account that there was a beautiful someone in his bed.

He lies back down when he sees the back of a girl, her shoulders have hickeys and bite marks over them. Robbie covers his mouth as he smirks a bit. Her hair a slight mess as it lays under her head. He puts his arms out and pulls her to his chest, a soft groan emitting from her.

You could feed strong and rough hands pulling you to a warm source. Not wanting to wake up yet, you just stayed still, lying in the comfy bed. Robbie’s hands snake around your waist, squeezing and feeling your sore body.

Once you do finally open your eyes, there’s a slight dizzying feeling in your head. Must be all the alcohol you drank last night. A soft stream of kisses starts being planted over your shoulders, the coarse feeling of facial hair on your soft skin makes you tingle.

When you turn around you’re both met with unfamiliar faces. Jesus, how much did you drink last night?

Robbie’s eyes widen at how pretty you are. He smiles gently and leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, which makes a smile of your own bloom across your face. He pulls you in for a hug and his hands wander down your naked body, feeling your curves and your skin.

You accept the warm and gentle hug, fitting into him like a puzzle piece. Your own hands came up and scratched his scalp, a low moan escaping him. You chuckle at the sound.

After a while of touching and re-exploring, you find the courage to use your voice.

“I don’t know you.” You laugh lowly, hiding your laughter in his neck. Robbie chuckles as well, his hands never stop touching you, now tracing shapes and words into your skin.

“It’s fine. I don’t know you either.” He pulls back and kisses your cheek. “But I like this.” “Oh, definitely.” You both end up laughing, relishing in the glow of the morning. “I’m Robbie.” You nod, telling him your name. “Y’know, one would think you’d remember my name after the amount of times you screamed it last night.”

Your eyes widen as a gasp leaves you, a laugh following after. “You! I had- well, we had a lot to drink.” Robbie agrees at your words. He pulls back from the hug and bites his lip softly. “God, you’re beautiful.” He slides down the bed a bit so he can be level with your chest. He presses kiss after kiss to your body, sometimes leaving wet spots as he licks over bites that he left last night.

“I should make your breakfast.” He sighs into your body, his fingers pressing themselves into your plush thighs, kneading any part of you that he found sore.

“I think I wanna stay here a bit longer. Maybe go for another round…” you whisper cheekily. Robbie laughs and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t mind at all.” He pulls you down to face him now, getting to see his pretty brown eyes. Your hand comes up and you trace the freckles on his face, connecting them like constellations.

He can feel his cheeks dusting over with pink, quickly becoming fond of your gentle and calm nature. He sits up and has you sit up as well, your back against the headboard.

He leans down and puts your legs on his shoulders, his face leaning down to your core. Robbie presses a kiss to your clit and you can’t help but shudder. He doesn’t waste time diving in and eating you out.

A whine escapes you as your hands bury themselves into his cropped hair. “Robbie-“ “Mhm, love the way you say my name, baby.” He talks into your core, some of it muffled as he licks up your wet cunt.

One loud moan from you is all it takes for a light knocking on the wall from Gabe. “Robbie, shut up!” His little brother groans as he shuffles in his bed. This makes you and Robbie end up laughing and having Robbie put a hand over your mouth as he pulls orgasm after orgasm from you.

[babecoups]

rodeo || johnny suh

⇝ title: Rodeo ⇝ pairing: rapper!johnny x manager!reader ⇝ genre: coworkers with benefits sort of | secret relationship | smut ⇝ summary: After Johnny sees you showing off on one of the set’s mechanical bulls, he can’t help but pull you into his trailer and put your riding skills to the test. ⇝ rating: 18+ ⇝ word count: 2.1k ⇝ warnings: unedited (i’m so sorry) | strong language | johnny wears a grill… warning you now | cowgirl duh | reverse cowgirl because we lit | rope play (not really sexual) | spanking/ass grabbing | them chains are staying on girlfriend | dom but bottom!johnny (like she’s fucking him) | spitting/spit play (sorry not sorry) | pet names | scratching | protected sex | gagging/choking on fingers | controlled orgasm | light obedience play | cum shots | the cheesy ending we all deserve | i think that’s all... enjoy!! ⇝ author’s note: Happy Birthday to my sis Beezy @hobeemin​ !! I love you and I wanted to write you something for your birthday. I did not expect it to get this filthy because I just cannot write Johnny in this way but the minute I thought about this look… I knew it was the one. Anyway, I hope you like it! I wrote it with love.��

⇝ playlist: Rodeo by Juvenile | Handstand by French Montana, Doja Cat, & Saweetie | Distraction by Kehlani

masterlist | join my permanent tag list? | mail box | read on ao3 | banner credits

“She is so going to fall. How many seconds are you giving her?”

Johnny leans against the railing, glancing at your assistant as he ponders in his thoughts.

“I give her about two seconds.”

“Bullshit. Both of you are going to be buying me lunch when this is over,” you chime in.

The two men share a laugh, and the rest of the staff join in as they prepare to watch you fail. Your eyes shift to Johnny when the lights reflect off the diamond-encrusted plate temporarily attached to his front bottom row of teeth. His tongue rolls over his top lip before he bites his lip absentmindedly, watching you as attentively as you are him. It’s a distraction you cannot indulge in due to the multiple people around you and the sudden jerk your body feels when the bull begins to move.

“Thirty seconds, motherfuckers! Pay attention.”

Your thighs clench, and you put on your game face, letting the snickers and side comments travel through your ears and disappear into the air. Your dominant hand holds on with all its strength while your other hand extends outward. You’re devoted to staying balanced because that’s going to be the key to lasting the entire time.

“Look at her only using one hand,” your assistant comments.

“That’s all I need.”

You hear Johnny fake a cough after your reply, and you squint your eyes at him just before the bull begins to spin. The ride starts to get rough quickly but you hang in there. Thirty seconds feel like hours when you’re being tossed around. Once you have a strong grip and a feel of what the bull can do, you’re about fifteen seconds in and ready to knock them out.

For show, you arch your back and smile at the people filming on their phones. The teasing is replaced with praises as everyone starts cheering you on. Everyone except one, who’s looking on with an unreadable expression. 

Suddenly, the ride switches gears, and you almost slip off. You struggle as you’re leaning toward one side, and you almost allow yourself to fall, forfeiting the last few seconds before a voice sways your decision. 

“Keep going, baby girl.”

You don’t even need to look to know who it belongs to. A switch flips on, and you regain control. The countdown begins, and your burning muscles work overtime to keep you on the bull. When time’s up, you make a victorious but not-so-graceful landing.

You lie there relishing in the cheers, but when your eyes open, you only want to see one person’s smile. However, he’s nowhere in sight. You get and dust yourself off before climbing out of the ring, receiving nothing but high-fives as you descend the stairs.

“Let’s go celebrate girl! You did that shit,” someone calls out.

You agree, but only to get them off your back while you seek out the man you’ve been waiting to talk to all day. “Yeah, I’m just going to go grab my stuff, and I’ll be back.”

It’s partly the truth. 

You will be back, but your purse is in the sprinter, on the other side of the set.

Still, you make your way past several trailers, looking for the one belonging to the star of the music video. Unfortunately, every trailer looks the same, and you can only pinpoint a general area of where he is.

As you peek into one trailer’s window, the door to the one behind you opens. When you turn around, you see Johnny standing on the threshold, wearing one of his signature smirks.

“Looking for someone?” he questions.

“Maybe.”

Johnny nods, his cowboy hat still covering his dark eyes. He’s probably waiting for the stylists to undress him since there’s one more shoot tomorrow, but since you’re here, you might be able to help with that.

“I see you don’t have time for me today. But it’s cool.”

You roll your eyes. He knows he can’t let himself get jealous; it’s too risky. 

The first time was supposed to be the last time, but a year later you still can’t keep your hands off each other. The industry isn’t kind to artists who sleep with their managers. No one wants to work with them out of fear of messy situations. The things you do to each other must remain a secret if you want it all to last. However, some days are more difficult than others.

“Whatever. I’m going to lunch,” you sigh. “Do you want anything?”

You start walking away before he responds, and once you’re about three feet away, something flies over your head and you feel it tighten around your midsection.

“What the–”

You look down and notice that you’re caught up in a rope. Before you can ask any questions, you’re pulled back until you run into something, or someone.

“You aren’t the only one who’s learned some tricks.”

Johnny spins you around, making you face him.

“Don’t be like that. You know I like teasing you,” he reasons, but you don’t want to hear it.

He knows you’re sensitive about this stuff, seeing many of your colleagues' reputations ruined for the same thing you’re doing with him. 

“It’s not funny, though.”

Noticing the small pout on your lips, Johnny gives the rope enough slack for it to fall and he pulls you in for a hug. His chin rests on your forehead, keeping an eye out for anyone and listening carefully for footsteps. 

“You’re so worrisome,” he sighs, caressing your back. “I was just trying to have a little fun with you.”

“Fuck off,” you murmur into his jacket. 

Your cheek presses against his bare pecs, and you find comfort in the warmth of his sun-kissed skin.

“Woah. You’re so mean. I just figured since you liked riding that bull so much, maybe you’d want to go for a real ride.”

Your head lifts and moves away from his chest so you can look at him. “What?”

“Oh, now I have your attention, hm?”

His smirk grows into a smile and reveals his mouthpiece. It shines even brighter when he takes off his hat and places it on your head. Johnny gestures towards his trailer and winks at you.

“Let’s get it, cowgirl.”

Seated on Johnny’s lap, your hand grasps the gold links around his neck while you grind against him. Both of you panting and sweating, the world doesn’t even exist at this moment.

“So good for me,” he growls. “How am I supposed to leave you alone?”

His nails dig into your flesh as he holds your globes within his grasp, wanting to be as close to you as he physically can.

“You don’t. Problem solved.”

You start to move more swiftly, feeling a familiar sensation creeping inside your gut. Johnny’s dick enters your womb each time you land on his hips, leaving you gasping and moaning louder than you should be.

“Yeah? So that means you’re mine, right?”

“Fuck. Johnny.”

The way his lips curl into a grin when you cry his name leaves you shivering and begging him.

For what, is unclear to you, but all you know is that you want him badly.

“Yeah, you’re mine,” he states confidently. “Open your mouth.”

He’s right about that. You are.

Whatever he wants, he gets it—because he never holds back when pleasing you.

Your lips part enough for you to stick out your tongue. He wastes no time shoving his fingers deep inside and spitting into your crevice. Two of his digits push his saliva deep into your throat, making you gag around them. You stare at him through your watery eyes, your damp lashes, and fresh tears blurring your vision. However, you can still make out the pleased expression on his face.

You purposely clench around him, and his hips buck off the couch. Johnny then grabs your waist, halting your movements while he speaks.

“I see how you wanna play. Turn around.” You lift yourself slightly, keeping him inside while you turn in the opposite direction. As you find the right position, Johnny slaps your ass, making you squeak in surprise. He kneads the flesh tenderly, giving it a firm but gentle squeeze of appreciation. “Let’s see how long you can stay on this ride.”

As soon as you start to ride his cock, Johnny begins to thrust into you, nearly bouncing you off of his lap. His toned thighs make it difficult for you to control the pace, but with a hand holding onto his leg, you’re saved from falling on the floor. 

Once you’ve gotten accustomed to the way he’s slamming into you, you’re able to regain control. You arch your back and place your free hand on top of his hat sitting on your head. The sounds that begin to leave your lips become feral, and you can hear Johnny’s grunts turn into moans and gasps. He’s close, and so are you. You decide to make the last seconds count.

“You feel so good,” you purr. “Do I feel good, Johnny?”

He throws back his head and whispers a few expletives. 

“You feel like heaven, baby. You already know.”

You whimper in response, his deep voice soothing to your ears.

“So wet, so tight. You know how much I love this pussy.”

“Fuck!”

“What’s wrong? Need to come?” he quizzes. 

“Can I? Please.”

Your raspy cries fill the room just like the lewd noises produced by your arousal squelching between your thighs. Johnny ceases his movements and allows you to chase your own release while he watches in awe. He holds your waist to support you and guide you because your body is moving faster than your mind can keep up with.

“Get you one, cowgirl. You deserve it.”

When those words leave his lips, your sense of reality disappears. Everything grows white, and you have no control over your body. Your orgasm takes your breath away, leaving you struggling to catch your breath. A shockwave ripples through you, and the sensation is intoxicating. 

You can hear Johnny’s groans as he tries to hold on, but the warm feeling of your walls pulsing around his cock is almost unbearable. His cock twitches inside of you as you ride out your high, but he hangs on until you’re flopping forward on your face.

Johnny quickly gets up, and removes the condom, so he can shoot his load all over your ass. Hot ropes of his cum paint your skin, but you’re too out of it to complain about being sticky.

“Are you okay, baby?”

You sigh. “I am.”

“Alright, well you should probably–”

Johnny's phone rings, and he walks across the room to check it. He answers it and puts it on speaker, so you assume it’s important.

“Yeah?”

Fuck. It’s your assistant looking for you. 

“She’s in my trailer,” Johnny explains.

You immediately sit up and look at him with wide eyes. Why would he say that?

“She’s embarrassed because she got sick from that bull ride. You’ll have to take lunch without her.”

You exhale and relax your body, sinking into the couch.

“That was too close,” you whisper.

Johnny throws you a wink, and you respond with a small smile. They’d probably have a million questions had he not thought of that response so quickly.

“Yeah, she’s going to get back to the hotel in the sprinter with me, but I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

When the call ends, Johnny joins you on the couch. He wipes the cum off of your skin and tosses the shirt on the floor before he speaks.

“So,” he begins. You turn so you can see his face. “We have the rest of the day together. What are we doing?”

You shrug.

“I don’t know. Maybe we can…”

You grab his arm and pull him on top of you. Your lips graze his ear, and he shudders.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

Smirking, your fingers dance up his biceps.

“Maybe we can take a nap?”

“Now, that’s hot.”

“I know, right?” you giggle.

When silence takes over, you play in Johnny’s hair as he hums.

“You think they’ll notice if that hat goes missing?”

His question makes you roll your eyes. 

“I fucking hate you sometimes,” you respond. “But, no. They have several because they know how you are.”

You return to twirling his strands between your fingers, enjoying the post-orgasm quality time until he ruins it once again.

“Good. I wonder if it’ll stay on while I’m fucking you from the back.”

Honestly, as long as he shows you what other trick he’s learned with that rope, he can do anything he wants with you.

[darkhymns-fic]

A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening

Husk used to like dancing, once upon a time.

Amazing how certain people can ruin such things for you.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Alastor/Husk, Charlie Morningstar, Angel Dust Rating: M Word Count: 4421 Mirror: AO3 Notes: I caved in and wrote fic for the funny swearing cartoon. Please note that this story contains depictions of abuse and power dynamics, as well as implications of violence. More tags are listed on the AO3 mirror. Grumpy cat man does not have a good time here (or even a choice).

--

Husk raised an eyebrow as he processed the information that was passed to him. (No, he couldn’t have heard that right.)

He was still cleaning up a shot glass with a less-than-clean rag, but his movements slowed, keeping his eyes level with the princess of Hell who stood in front of his bar. The eerie glow of the wooden walls fell over her hair, coating it in a green sheen that reminded him of poison dripping down the strands. A bitter but familiar taste settled on his tongue.

“…A dance party?” he finally asked her.

“Yes! For everyone in the hotel! There’s gonna be balloons and camaraderie and so much music!” Charlie was bouncing up and down on her toes. If she got any more excited, she’d probably jump straight up through the roof. Not like it would’ve been the first construction hazard the hotel had, or even the last. “It was Alastor’s idea! He said it would be a really good morale booster!”

Not a whisker twitched on Husk’s face, but he could feel the cracks in the glass forming underneath his hand. Another one for the dustbin. “Of course it was.”

Too low for Charlie to hear him, not that he wanted her to. She was riding on cloud nine, which was an achievement for a Hell-born denizen. “I just gotta get all the decorations set up! Oh! And Alastor told me to invite you specifically! It’s going to be so much fun!”

Thankfully, Charlie turned away then—to check up on all those decorations, the bright balloons, and streamers, and what looked like a disco ball (?) up top that was just gonna break the beams of this shack of a building. Because by then, the glass Husk was holding had shattered to pieces.

With a growl, he picked away at the shards embedded in his fur, one by one. Just a few of them were stained in blood, their color gaining a sickly green hue from the glow of the bar.

What a painful way to start the night.

--

Before anyone had even hit the dance floor, Husk was already shit-faced. But he wasn’t blackout drunk, and right now, that was his ultimate goal. Cheap booze was hardly good for anything else.

He could barely care whatever music was playing—but by the way Charlie was twirling and shaking her arms like an excitable chicken, it must have been some of that new pop stuff Husk never took much of a liking to. Much of the scene was a blur to him, still staying put behind his bar, hoping to be forgotten for his boss’ new…interest.

(Awful to think, but some men craving for freedom, for anything, become desperate. He knew this too well.)

Alastor was doing all he could to encourage the princess with a bleeding heart; holding up his mic to comment on her dancing techniques, to cue applause at just the right moment, always telling her the same thing. “Wonderful! Just a wonderful performance!”

Even so, one could barely call this much of a party. Hazbin Hotel’s guests were so few—still only two total—but that Sir Pentious was also doing some of the dorkiest moves Husk had ever seen, and still falling face-first on the floor despite having no legs to trip over to begin with. Somehow, Angel Dust’s moves weren’t as X-rated as Husk would have expected on any other day. Instead, the guy was lending a pair of hands to Niffty, letting her lead yet still somehow controlling her rabid movements to pull him across the floor, also avoiding any sudden bites she would randomly decide to do.

There were times, also, when he would see Alastor reach out a hand to Charlie. He’d lean on his cane, mouth close to the mic head, humming a little ditty reminiscent of the jazz lounges back when their bodies weren’t made of fur and weird demon magic. It wouldn’t be the first time Alastor danced with the princess, but then an arm would reach out, safely guiding Charlie away from him.

Surprising that the same arm lacked a spear in it, one with a suspicious glint to it that Husk recognized but bit his tongue from ever mentioning. Vaggie’s one eye burned brighter than most firepits, and Charlie, innocent soul that she was, thought her girlfriend was just impatient for another close dance.

“Aw, Vaggie! Did you wanna try the Lindy Hop together?”

Another glare, her and the red demon’s staring contest looking ludicrous underneath the shifting lights of the spinning ball overhead. “Yeah, sure thing, hun.” And then she broke from that gaze, her expression changing to softness as she looked at Charlie in the blink of an eye and just that. It must have been love, not that Husk knew anything about it anymore. “I’ll follow your lead, if that’s okay.”

Alastor kept his smile as they both moved away, slowly pulling back his hand as his fingers curled. But a close listener could hear the static, garbling slowly in a crescendo. No, his boss didn’t like being denied his playthings.

And if he wasn’t being entertained this very second, then he’d—

“Hey, ya gonna join us? This dance party’s not half bad.” Angel Dust leaned on the bar, grinning as he took his usual seat. He hid it well, but Husk noted how his chest shifted with his heavy breathing, using his second right arm to discreetly wipe away the sweat from the fluff. It took all one had to keep up with Niffty, even from a guy who claimed to have amazing stamina.

Crossing one leg over the other, Angel kept up his smile, but it lacked the biting veneer from other times. An honesty that could be seen, even with Husk’s somewhat blurry sight. “I mean,” Angel continued. “If ya feel like sucking off that bottle instead of something with a little more taste.”

Husk didn’t take offense to such jokes anymore (just for show, which he also knew all too well) but he still didn’t move. This was the closest to safety he got. Besides, the bottle wasn’t even empty yet. “Nah, got two left feet. Wouldn’t work out.”

At that, Angel Dust laughed. “Didn’t stop our slithery friend over there! Or even Niffty! Though, uh…”

A quick look from them both showed the tiny Niffty now crawling along the walls, heading for the disco ball and then clamping it tightly with her entire body.  

“Yeah,” Angel nodded. “Think she’s got the hang of it now.”

Husk shrugged. He slid a glass to Angel that was half-full, a motion he could still do even with slightly trembling hands. “Don’t let me tie you down, kid. I’ve seen your moves.” He allowed himself a smile, one he could say he even felt.

Angel took the drink, one that could barely buzz a chihuahua, and gave Husk a smile back just as he stood up. All limbs, and a smile that hid back its usual gleam for fatigued eyes. “Alright, but if you change your mind, I bet I could teach you how to move it.”

Husk could barely count the minutes since Angel left and the party continued. The soundtrack for the dance eventually changed from the generic pop to a swing number—one that Husk could probably mouth the words to if he still had any hope inside him. And sometimes, he did feel it. Staying in this hotel was misery at first until the faces became more familiar, more concerned, and less like the eyes of something that hunted and searched for that moment of weakness.

The music was as grainy as his vision, so heavily textured and straining on the ears that he kept trying to pick it up, even as it changed. The vocals. The soft melancholic chorus in the background. It lacked the instruments of the previous songs. Weird choice for a dance. So much did he focus on it, all while holding a whiskey bottle with both hands because now he wanted some of the good stuff. He stared into the warped glass as he listened for so long that he forgot how there was no safe place for him. Just for a moment, but that was all it took.

A shadow fell over the bar. Over him. He knew who it was. Husk tipped the bottle to his lips and took long, long drink.

“Husker! My dear friend, didn’t you get my invite?”

It was a while before he answered. He slammed the bottle onto the mahogany surface, twisted his lips. Already empty, he needed another. “Yeah, I did. What about it?” Whiskey made him braver, but also careless. “Gotta keep serving the guests, don’t I?”

He heard the familiar chuckle, frizzled and slightly skipping, as if the vinyl had been scratched. “While it is good to see you still keeping to your deal, you have to understand it’s rude to RSVP and then not show.”

He wrenched the cork from his new bottle; wine this time, because this felt like as good of a time to switching things up as any. He watched the mist curl from the opening with all the fascination of a man pointedly avoiding the signals around him. “I am here to anyone that’s got eyes. Besides, I never promised Charlie I would actually dance.”

“Oh? You saying our little princess is a fibber?”

“I’m saying you only hear what you want. All the damn fucking time!” A hard grip, and then, he made the mistake of raising his head to see. (Never look into his eyes, you fool.) “Why don’t you take your dumbass musical project and just shove it along with that stupid mic of yours?! At least then I can just—”  

Something tugged him forward. Cold yet hot at the same time, just around his neck and clenched tight. He gripped the bar, claws digging in to keep himself from slamming his forehead into the wood.

Suddenly, his vision was crystal-clear.

The eyes burned into his. Red as the fiery sun over the sea, as the freshly split blood over a forest floor. A grin that was impossibly wide for a living thing, but neither of them were alive anymore, so all he could do was wait for when those same fangs would bite down on something else other than pride. Strange, twisting shapes curled from behind, appearing from behind the Radio Demon, like some demented crown of thorns.

“Silly Husker. That wasn’t a request and you know it.”

Oh, he knew it.

In the chaotic lighting of the room, from that fucking stupid disco ball, to the blinding streamers and balloons, and even a few rave sticks Husk caught Sir Pentious waving around, no one would notice the subtle green of the chains. How they burned into Husk’s neck, rubbing it raw until the fur would fall off, leaving him bruised beneath.

He shook again, keeping himself upright as much as he could. All to not be humiliated again, and this time in front a crowd. They would hate seeing him that way. They would demand Alastor to stop.

But the crushing indignity was too much to endure that.

“Fine,” he hissed out. “Do whatever you want.”

“Why, gladly!”

The chain vanished. Husk was left gasping, his fingers pressed against his throat to feel for any mark. (Just his property and nothing else). But he saw the hand now held out to him, palm facing upward. Those seemingly delicate fingers moved back and forth, and there was the familiar static, the usual dead air, but also…if one could turn the dial just so, the faint cacophony of screams that echoed in the distance, only to be drowned out by grainy noise.

“Shall we dance, dear Husker?”

Any choice he had once, he’d already made a while back.

Husk said nothing as he slid his hand into the other’s, claws carefully dulled to not scratch. He was practically pulled over the bar, his wings flapping in surprise. Red and black feathers circled around them both, and then he was tugged in close, looking up at the man with the smile that had now considerably shrunk—to look charming, almost. But always sharp and ready to bite.

“Now look lively, my dear. It’s as if your feet are encased in cement!”

The voice slid through his chest, like poison once more, carefully given to him in small doses over the years. A hand placed itself at the small of his back, his feet nearly lifted off the floor. An arm kept his wings closed in, so that they couldn’t stretch, like a straight-jacket forcibly put on him. Those wings were one of the few things he even liked about his form here in Hell, even if he sometimes found them to be an eyesore. But nothing else now could catch him from falling.

Nowhere to stabilize himself except in Alastor’s arms.

Anything to make him feel helpless. Vulnerable. Nothing more than a pet.

That’s all he was to him.

Alastor leaned in slightly, moving Husk’s free hand to clasp onto the taller demon’s shoulder. Husk sighed, but he followed through. Resigned. Better to be led through and survive the night without much damage. (Why even fight it?)

Just barely on his toes, and feeling the sharp nails dig just against his fur, they started their dance across the floor.

This wasn’t the first time they did this.

It was easy to fall into the motions. The thing that Husk had to begrudgingly admit was that Alastor was a pretty good dancer. He moved his feet with a grace that could be easily followed, and Husk did so. The trail of a footstep following the other, their hands joined together, leading him to the right or left with barely a pull. And with the grip behind his back, fingers circling into his fur, making Husk swallow hard.

Eyes started to follow them now, even with the awful-as-fuck lighting. He caught a glance of Niffty to the side, how she stopped trying to gnaw on Sir Pentious’ tail as she stared gleefully at her boss and co-worker getting close on the dance floor. He could hear Charlie make her excited little noises of happiness, commenting on just how sweet it was to see them demonstrate to everyone how to dance. Yeah. Sure. Anything to keep the princess oblivious to the rot beneath. At least Husk was sure Vaggie wouldn’t explain much more.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought he saw Angel Dust in the far back. Hard to tell, because the effects of all his drinking were slowly making its way back, his fear replaced by numbness. But seeing Angel’s expression, it wasn’t pity. It was an understanding between two losers at the bottom of the barrel, witness to another form of degradation. Sold souls that could do nothing else but share the pain from across the room.

And then he couldn’t see Angel anymore. Because Alastor suddenly dipped him, so low to the ground that Husk found himself clinging tighter to the demon. His fur stood on end, his hat dangerously close to falling off. But Alastor leaned in close, his sharp teeth just at Husk’s ear, his breath parting the fur as gentle as a caress.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening. Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

Husk widened his eyes. The music playing in the room, its echoes finally reaching his drunken skull. Oh, this absolute fucker.

The guy’s face really was made for radio.

Alastor lifted him up again, twirled him with barely a thought for Husk, who could have vomited from motion sickness. Wings flapped open, desperate for freedom, only to be closed in again by Alastor bringing Husk close. Another lean, and the song played again, closer, on the speaker that was Alastor’s mouth, with a voice that wasn’t his but that age-old recording.

“A casual stroll through a garden, and a kiss by a lazy lagoon.” Alastor’s grin could be felt against Husk, and how so often was he told how soft his fur was, to touch and play with. “Catching a breath of moonlight. Humming our favorite tune.”

Husk bristled. His claws bent inwards, so close to Alastor’s neck. It would be easy to at least draw blood, right in front of everyone, to show that this demon, horrifying as he was, can still be wounded despite it all.

Except, Husk had already tried that once. Back when the deal had still been fresh.

Alastor turned to face him, his smile so manic, so very daring.

Husk did nothing, instead continuing to listen to the song that Alastor played, dictating their movements. The same song that Husk remembered hearing on the radio so many years ago.

“I want to save all my nights and spend them with you. I love spending all with you…”

--

It felt like centuries before the party was finally over.

Husk could barely stand to be back behind his bar, let alone in the hotel lobby. The balloons, which half were already deflated, were a fucking eyesore and that damn ball up top or whatever did eventually fall—on Sir Pentious. But if the guy could survive an attack from the Radio Demon absolutely demolishing his ship and half of his egg boys, then it was clear the snake was indestructible.

Maybe Husk was a bit jealous.         

He didn’t want to deal with seeing anyone, even when Alastor, finally, finally let him go. Still, their clasped hands lingered, and Alastor leaned down as if to kiss his knuckles, Husk frozen in place at the very thought. And then, fingers laxed in their hold, allowing Husk to pull back, his fur on end and his wings frazzled, the feathers out of place.

The song had long stopped playing but still he heard it, deep in his skull, as if someone had shoved a phonograph there, the horn of it directed right inside his ear.

A quick exit, before anyone could reach him. Hypocritical maybe, but he didn’t feel like voicing his troubles right now. Not when it just fucking happened right in front of everyone, with only one of them even getting a hint of what it was all about.

Alastor and his stupid games.

But even when Husk retreated to this room, he could barely relax. The room was just one in a hundred in this empty hotel, but one that Charlie had been so happy to lead him to that first time. She had pointed to each pillow on the bed and even to all the little mints that were stacked on top. She had even been hyped for the shaded lamps on the bedside table, despite the bulbs long weakening. Overkill, like much of what she did. But earnest, and genuine, and one that truly did see the good in everyone despite how each sinner had earned their keep here.

A complete difference from the Radio Demon that had just materialized at his side, a whisper of a soft, nostalgic melody his only warning.

“Oh, Husker. I didn’t peg you to be an early sleeper.”

Followed immediately by the door slamming shut.

Husk didn’t dare turn. Not yet, not until he reached for the cards in his pocket. They could be as sharp as knives, as strong as wire. He was drunk, and tired, and maybe he was past his limit at having himself played around with in front of everyone like it was all just normal.

But, before he could even pull back his arm, something held him in place. A blink. The lamp in his room flickered, and he caught the antlered shadow on his left wall, grabbing at his own. Of fucking course.

“Bad kitty! And after I let you keep your little toys.”

A quick squeeze and Husk sucked air through his teeth, dropping a flurry of his cards to the carpet. Then a violent turn, and the manacle appeared once more around his neck, the sickening green creating valleys and crevices all over Alastor’s grinning face.

Still, that godforsaken melody kept playing.

Then a pull.

Husk choked. He reached for the links, clung to it, even as they burned off his fur. His wings stretched wide, flapped once and then twice. All he could do to keep his ground.

Alastor leaned his head to the side at a painful angle—unclear if he even felt anything while doing so, or maybe he did because he could, relishing the crack of bone and the rupture of blood vessels. All while he held onto Husk’s leash, keeping it taut.

It wasn’t enough to make Husk shut up.

“You fucking psychopath. What more do you even want from me? I already danced with you! I even let you just… touch me like…” Husk could barely speak, but he glared at the Radio Demon with all the rage and humiliation he felt deep within whatever he had left of his soul. “I know you get off to this shit!”

The demon leaned in close. The sight of it was compressing, losing full shape, covered over with black marks and strange symbols that he had never understood. Antlers grew and took shape, their sharp points reaching out to Husk like an embrace. But, they stopped just short of his face, just over his eyes, making him terrified to even blink.

In corrupted static, the music garbled and off-key, Alastor whispered. “And so do you.”

Husk’s grip on the chain loosened. He gritted his teeth. Fuck. This was it. He was going to die, with his agony broadcasted all over Hell.

Another quick pull, and Husk lost his grip completely. The shadow from behind him had grasped at his wings, stinging in the pain as tendons snapped like twine, and suddenly he couldn’t extend them anymore. Another avenue of possible escape, already taken away from him.

Then he was pulled forward again to the real Alastor, a hand grasping his own, fingers interlaced. Husk trembled. Would the Radio Demon start by breaking his hands, going through each limb slowly until he couldn’t even move anymore?

Alastor pulled taut on the chain once more, straining the metal. But they would never break, no matter how much Husk wished for it. It was close to his face, and he wondered if Alastor was going to bound and gag him, burn off his tongue, so that his screams would have no words.

That is not what happened.

Instead, Alastor took the chain and wrapped it carefully, almost delicately around their clasped hands. Husk grimaced at the touch, burning yet freezing all at once. Alastor showed change in emotion at all. Still smiling wide, the antlers retracted back like tentacles. The discordant melody shifted back to harmonious, no longer warped and out of tune. The record played, undisturbed.

Husk blinked. His eyes moved to their hands, tied together by the chain, before going back to Alastor. “What…are you doing?”

A hand reached for his back, pulled him close until his nose was pressed against the front of Alastor’s suit. A finger pushed against a suspender in what could have been seen as playful, and a thumb rubbed circles into the fur, searching for the skin beneath.

“You’re just lovely when you dance,” Alastor said so softly, just against his ear. The teeth nipped just so slightly, tugging at his fur, at him. Husk shook, and he wasn’t sure if it was entirely from fear. “And the night is still so young.”

His wings still ached from the sudden clipping of his feathers, and his hand was half-burned from the links pressed against his fur. Even so, he didn’t step back. He felt his feet just almost leave the floor, their bodies pushed even closer than before in the hotel lobby.

He didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

And he even used to like dancing, once upon a time.

Husk’s body felt like a rag doll, pushed and pulled to go wherever his owner wanted. The chain kept them bound, even if it was already connected to his neck. In the quiet of his room, they slow danced to what had once been one of Husk’s favorite songs as it played in its vintage soundscape.

It was nothing new at all. In fact, it was very much the usual. The playing of an old ballad or a jazz rendition when Alastor was near him. The subtle brushing of knuckles against his own when walking by. A quick pat over his head. A tug of his ears, done so lightly that Husk sometimes wondered if it was imagination. A patting of the shoulder, the hand lingering just a moment too long. A finger rushing down his side. Even a delicate pull of his tail. After all, Alastor would tell him, it was just so very soft.

Husk had pushed back at first. He had groused and cursed, hating to be ridiculed. He still did so now, like the fucking genius that he was, the current pain in his wings reminding him with glee.

Sometimes, Alastor would laugh and be on his way. Other times, not so much.

Husk forgot that he couldn’t pick his battles—for there was none he could win.

He gritted his teeth, letting his body be swayed, shivering at the hot breaths along his neck. The dim lights of his room swam in his vision, and soon, he was falling more against Alastor, pulled in by warmth that could turn scalding at any moment.

(Perhaps dancing was what cured the loneliness, in a way. He really was pathetic.)

He looked to their joined hands, engulfed in green that seemed all encompassing. Then he stepped in something wet, tracking it in the carpet. Too apathetic to the thought that they were dancing out patterns with his own blood.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening,” sang Alastor, in that same recorded voice. But also, Husk could hear Alastor’s own, as if the demon was singing along in his own private booth for his loyal listeners. “Can't think of anything I'd rather do.”

Husk breathed carefully, letting himself fall quiet. When he made his deal, he was never promised he’d understand the Radio Demon or his motivations. He knew, in the end, that he didn’t want to anyway.

The night blurred, until the pain had all but numbed, and their song was all he could hear.

[milawritesstuff]

Hii can u do gavi having a crush on actress reader and he reveals it after being asked abot his celeb crush in an interview

A/N: hope you like it ;)

•••

-We’ve watched this movie three times this week already Pablo.- said Pedri as he turned the TV off. -Let’s play some FIFA.- Gavi wasn’t playing attention to him. He was already on his phone scrolling through Instagram.

-What if I just send her a message?- he asked.

-Who?-

-Y/N.

Pedri rolled his eyes and laughed. -Didn’t you follow her?-

-Yes.-

-Did she follow you back?-

-Yeah but it’s kind of weird because I’ve never met her.-

Pedri began to laugh again. -You became obsessed with her from this movie that now I know every line for and she has you whipped and you don’t even know her.-

Gavi sat there and looked at Gavi. -And what’s your point?-

Pedri couldn’t help but laugh. -You’re a lost cause, Pablito. Shoot your shot or stop obsessing. I don’t really know how many more times I can watch this movie.- as Pedri was finishing his last sentence he felt a pillow smack him on the face.

——

That night Gavi wrote a dozen different messages to send to Y/N on Instagram … which he didn’t send any of. He scrolled past all of your pictures on your account and made sure not to mistakenly like any of them. The last thing he wanted was for people to see he was scrolling through her pictures. Eventually he landed on one picture you took at the beach. You stood on the sand in your swimsuit posing with the peace sign. He zoomed in on the picture and saw that you were pouting in the picture. He smiled stupidly at his phone screen.

He didn’t know how or when but you had gotten into his head and he wanted nothing more than to meet you. His friends made fun of him and although half of Spain was throwing themselves at him he didn’t know how to shoot his shot with you.

As he got lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize but he had liked the picture, from 7 weeks ago. As soon as he realized it he drove his hand through his hair trying to think of what to do. He thought of unliking the picture up but knew that if you had notifications on it would be too late. He decided to just let it go. He put his phone down and went to sleep.

The next day Gavi had several interviews lined up. The club had just officially signed him to the first team and he was about to debut with his new number, the 6.

The first two interviews were light. They asked him about his career goals: to win a World Cup with Spain; who his best friend in the team was: Pedri; what being in Barça meant to him: everything.

The third interviewer was running late and Gavi was waiting scrolling through his phone. Suddenly a notification came in. You had liked a photo of his, from a few weeks back. He smiled. A second later another notification came in. You had commented on his picture.

YourUsername: Guapo.

Before he could think of what to respond the next interview started. They started with the basic questions and then told him they would try to spice it up. He nodded.

-Are you dating anyone?- Gavi was surprised by the question and began to laugh. -No, no.-

-What about Princess Leonor?- Gavi shook his head. -I’ve never even met her. I’m sure she’s a great girl but I don’t know her.-

-Ok, Ok.- said the interviewer. -So many girls are crushing on you, but who is Pablo Gavi crushing on?-

Gavi thought for a second. He was sure by now people had seen that he had liked your picture. And of course they had already seen your comment on his picture. In the back if his head he heard Pedri’s voice to shoot his shot.

-Well…- he started. -There’s an actress, Y/N. She’s great in what she does and she has an amazing career.-

-And she’s easy on the eyes, isn’t she Gavi?- asked the interviewer.

He laughed. -She’s beautiful.-

——————

TAG LIST:

@cinderellawithashoe @httpswiftie @simpingmyassoff @bubblebeep69 @fictional-l0v3r @httpspedri26 @0alanasworld0 @l0verl4ne @gaviypedrisbride @footballerficsposts @fashphotolife @beaschampagneproblems @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @ikkehehe @jjishotasf @quemirasboboandapaya @maricciardo @gaviswh0re @pedriwifefrfr @dustell @elijahslover

[scimitar-and-longsword]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Tagged by @cactusdragon517 almost a month ago lol, I'm slow to get these done.

How many works do you have on ao3? 21

What's your total ao3 word count? 202,835

What fandoms do you write for? Currently? Call of Duty and I'm still hanging around the TOG fandom. But I've hardly posted anything in years lol. Someday when my toddler is a little older I'll get back into posting more.

Top five fics by kudos:

Share Your Address - Fencer!Joe/TA!Nicky College AU - Insta-love. So much texting. Everybody wants to punch Keane.

It Feels Like Flying - Joe/Pilot!Nicky AU - This is porn. Enjoy.

Brothers Fight - Joe & Booker working through their issues post movie.

Everything I Did to Get to You - Sequel to Share Your Address (my top fic by Kudos) - AU - A few years later Joe and Nicky spend the holidays with friends and family.

Collapsing Walls - Book of Nile!!!!! - Established Booker/Nile - Booker and Nile get caught in a building while trying to assist during an earthquake.

Do you respond to comments? Yes!! I try to respond to all comments for at least a few days after I post something.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't write a lot of angsty ENDINGS. I'll Never Love Another (Prince!Joe/Knight!Nicky) has a fuck ton of angst in it, and I know some people thought the ending was bitter sweet bordering on sad.... but idk (spoilers?) no one died and they're together sooooo that's a happy ending in my book lol.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Gees, idk lol Share Your Address?? It's so sweet you'll get cavities.

Do you get hate on fics? I never have. *knock on wood*

Do you write smut? Hardly ever. I mean I HAVE, and actually the most recent thing I posted was like straight up porn lol. But mostly if there is sex it is only hinted at/fade to black. Or buried in a 60k fic so you have to work for it!

Craziest crossover: Probably Book of Nile + Princess Bride (it's a WIP that I haven't touched in like 3 years *sweats nervously* I swear I will finish all my WIPs EVENTUALLY)

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of???

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes!! A one shot I did was translated onto a Japanese website that I forget the name of lol. I've also had a podfic made of one of my one shots if that counts.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Ashley and I tried at one point lol it was a modern AU DinLuke fic.... it kind of fizzled out eventually. @ashleyrguillory we should look at that again someday lol

All time favorite ship? Obligatory "Just one??!!" ok but idk Charlie/Claire (LOST), Korra/Asami (Legend of Korra) and Derek/Stiles (Teen Wolf) are the most important to me??? I read the most fic for Ghost/Soap, [redacted controversial ship that you could not pay me to reveal #1], and [redacted controversial ship that you could not pay me to reveal #2] lol

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I refuse to give up on any of my WIPS!!! I have 4, and all of them are planned/outlined to the end... I even have multiple completed chapters for two of them. I'm not a quitter... I do take my time though lol

What are your writing strengths? Oh gees... idk someone else who has read my stuff needs to tell me this... I think I've gotten a lot of comments complimenting me on keeping characters true to canon?? idk guys! someone else answer this!

What are your writing weaknesses? I really struggle with action and sex scenes. Where are they? I, the person writing this fic, certainly don't know. (come to think of it this might be part of the reason that I don't write a lot of smut)

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? Whatever floats the author's boat.

But I personally have done it a few ways. My favorite to both write and read is just to write what they say and then identify what language is being used if the POV character can understand the language. something like: "Oh no," he shouted in Italian.

OR if the POV character doesn't understand the language I would write something like: Nicky shouted something in what Joe thought was Italian. OR Nicky said something in a language Joe couldn't quite place.

First fandom you wrote in? Supernatural lol

Favorite fic you've written? One????? You're getting 2!

I'll Never Love Another - Prince!Joe/Knight!Nicky AU - SO MUCH LETTER WRITING - This was my Big Bang in 2021, and I love the FUCK out of it. It's my favorite fic I've ever written and I reread it kind of often because of how much I enjoy it lol

Impelled by the Persuasion of Love - Canon verse Joe/Nicky and Andy/Quynh - Takes place in France during the 100 years war. I have an obsession with courtly love/chivalry and figured I should shove it onto our favorite immortals <3 - I wrote this for a TOG zine that came out in early 2021

=== Truly, IDK if I've got 20 people to tag but I'll give it a go!!

@innerslumber, @alloutofgoddesses, @ashleyrguillory, @stevethehairington, @sindirimba, @disregardandfelicity and anybody else who wants to do this, consider this your tag!!!

[look-i-love-u]

Tag Game Wednesday

Gone full week and arrived at Wednesday again. Oops.

This is totally last week's one.

thank you for tagging me: @vintagelacerosette, @jrooc, @shippergirl121fic, @energievie, @ian-galagher, @blue-disco-lights @michellemisfit

Name and A03 handle: Vey, miss_snowwhitepink

Current Location: on the couch, sipping water, trying to get better hydrated

Favourite picrew:

What's one thing you want in a picrew? more body types, more fantasy, more pets

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom?

Fuck-U-Up Mug

Why is it your favourite?

Painted this mug for the first gallacrafts theme and I still love it and use it almost daily. It's still looking as good as day one. And it made me write a little one-shot to go with

Did it come easily or was it hard to create?

It was the first time I tried to draw a lily. So that was a bit of an adventure. The baking of the mug to fix the colour was a bit nerve-wrecking too as I feared it would break in the oven. But it all worked out just fine :)

Last ao3 fic you commented on? It's been a while since I read ffs. I've been on a "sports guys hooking up and finding love" binge read lately, so I've read about ten books or so in the last few months and not a single ff. O.o

The last comment I wrote that got a reply was Evie's "When you say nothing at all"

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I don't really read WIPs since my early fandom days and getting burned by them. But that's about half my lifetime ago and I can't remember a specific story.

So I'll say all the WIPs in my doc drafts and especially the three collabs that I was super excited about my writing partner(s) weren't and they never even took off or got abandoned quite early on.

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic?

Oh, so many! Any and all AUs - as I love to see them find each other in every universe.

Soulmate!Aus especially. Hurt/Comfort. Pining! Long burn! Yes! Give me all the delayed gratification and the good stomach tingles from it!

Least favourite? Break-Up/Second chance fics, probably. I'm all about them getting together the first time and then hopefully living their happily ever after.

Also sick!fics and character deaths. Real life got enough of that. I don't want to read it in my escape media as well.

Secret or surprising kink or trope?

From hand holding to monsterfuckery - I'm a pretty open book when it comes to my kinks, I think. No secrets to uncover here.

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new?

Elated. Happy. Nervously excited. Eager to share it.

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line:

Time pressure and a sense of responsibility.

Works for my work writing, works for fun writing. It's also probably the only reason I still remember to write a Galladrabble each week. XD

And getting a good response to what I did. Serotonine works wonders for my motivation and creativity.

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Scroll through tumblr. Look at amazing pretty art and send my faves to people who I know share my love for it.

[4getfulimaginator2022]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I haven't been tagged, but I saw @fandomsbyladymelodrama do one of these a few months back - so of course, I wanted to give it a try. 🙃 Also, I haven't done any personal posts on here in forever. Time for a change!

How many works do you have on AO3? I have 18 works so far. And when it comes to ships, it looks like I have a "type." 😉

What's your total AO3 word count? Oh boy. 660K+ right now and growing all the time because when stories speak, I write.

What fandoms do you write for? Mainly Once Upon a Time (starting in 2013), followed by Game of Thrones (2024, baby!) and then that 1 Greek myth collection thingy. I was a die-hard Once fan back in the day and watched episodes religiously, so all the canon lore was seared into my brain until season 6 (when I dropped the show because the writing was so off the rails). Surprise, surprise - I haven't watched GoT in its entirety. Everything I know is through my own research, watching videos, reading, reading, reading, and the contributions of the wonderful Jorleesi fandom.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? All Captain Swan fics, in order from the most to the least: 1) Heart Bound 2) Only the Beginning 3) A Cobbler's Life For Me 4) Be My Angel, Be My Demon 5) Nevermore

Do you respond to comments? I try! I used to be less strict about replying to comments, but with my resurgence in fanfic after years of absence, I have replied to each and every one. Currently, I am behind on replies, but I will get around to it again. Soon.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oof. I don't do angsty endings because I will die on the hill that is Jane Austen: “My characters shall have, after a little trouble, all that they desire.” Probably my angstiest ending is in Trader of Hearts, which is a really dark fic. I do have a one-shot that is semi-angsty, though: Thinking of You.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? *deer in headlights look* I make it my business to give my beloved characters the happiest endings I can. Seriously. I don't know how to rank endings against each other, since the characters always end up together. I currently think my happiest ending is for The Old Curiosity Shop, my Jorleesi fic.

Do you get hate on fics? I have, but these were readers telling me how I should write my stories "the right way." I also have gotten spam comments. Overall, people are pretty nice.

Do you write smut? Hoo-hah! 😏 Let's count: I have 3 fics rated Mature and 5 fics rated Explicit. That's half of my fic repertoire. And when I do Explicit, it's ❤️‍🔥. Enough said.

Do you write crossovers? No. Not happening, cannot do, end of discussion.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Well... There was a scandal back on FF.net in 2014 or 2015? Websites were copying all fanfics to scammy websites or selling fanfics as ebooks. Not cool. I used to have all my content on FF.net, but now only my in-progress fics are there. All my fics are up on AO3.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, not that I know of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Hey, if someone is offering... But again, no. No one ever wanted to co-write with me. 🥺 But maybe it's because I'm sooooooooo bossy!

What's your all-time favorite ship? Oh crap. All-time favorite?! WHAT. I have to cheat here and say there's a tie: Captain Swan and Jorleesi. Emma Swan and Killian Jones had a long journey to love and happiness, both in terms of their individual character growth and their relationship as a couple. The more I learned about them, the harder I fell in love with them. It helped that the CS fandom was HUGE as the ship became canon, and Tumblr was so active then that #captainswan was all over the place. We were one of the largest canon ships for that show. Now, as for Jorleesi... Jorah Mormont's loyalty and devotion earned my attention and respect from the first, and then when I found out about his love for Daenerys and her repressed love affection for him, I was a goner. My 2 OTPs: both women are BAMFs who are survivors and warriors, while their guys value love above all and are willing to die to protect them (*sobbing for Jorah because noooooooo* 😭)

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Heart Bound. This fic... I love this fic. This is my Jane Eyre/Jane Austen fix. It's my 2nd period piece and I adore some of my prose in this one. It. Needs. 4. Chapters. To. Be. Complete. Can I do it? Yes. Do I want to do it? *cries* Of course I do but it's hard...

What are your writing strengths? Hmm. Some would say it's my prose, while others would say that I know how to channel emotion into my writing. I like to incorporate literature and historical references into my fics (historical AUs or not), so I think I've done well with that. I've also been told that my characterizations are fantastic and unique. You do notice that I'm not claiming credit for any of these observations, right? Usually, I believe my writing is awful and I could have done so much better. I have a hard time acknowledging my strengths. You could hand me an Olympic gold medal for Writing and I would still insist that it's all lies. My self-belief and confidence have not improved over the years.

What are your writing weaknesses? Dialogue. It's always dialogue. I want it to be realistic but my vocab gets in the way and it starts sounding like prose. Not good. But I am getting better! No way to go but up.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Maybe I'd do it, but it would have to be necessary for me to put in the effort. I don't purposely bamboozle my readers. 🤣

First fandom you wrote for? Once Upon a Time (of course *rolls eyes*). One Against the Wind is my ultimate period fic - pirates, the Caribbean, my tribute to PotC and pirate novels I've read. I created character backstory when there was no canon backstory. It's also my longest fic at 147K words. So proud of it and it still holds a special place in my heart. 😍

Favorite fic you've written? Ugh, no no no! I always, always say I cannot have one favorite because that is BORING. But okay, I will say that at the moment, it's The Old Curiosity Shop. I just did a full read of the entire fic and my heart absolutely melted. Adorable, heartbreaking, angsty, and so romantic. Jorleesi, I love you and I will die for you. You own my heart a thousand times over. ❤️

Fineeeee, I'll tag 5 people (no worries if you don't want to do this - completely voluntary fun and games here 💕): @ser-jorah-the-andal, @rileypotter17, @houseofthebear, @clarasimone, @thank-god-and-you

[aerodaltonimperial]

okay, are y'all ready? cause we got results from that smut poll, and it absolutely confirms everything i'd already discovered through keeping a stats spreadsheet of my own fics.

let's fucking talk about this!! first, almost 5% of people either don't read explicit fics on ao3 or don't read fics at all, so we can just sort of slide those results out of the poll entirely, since they don't matter for purposes of information gathering here. the big thing that i sort of KNEW would be a thing but was desperately hoping i had made up in my head is not that 5% of people, but the staggering 15.4% of people who say they won't even leave a kudos on explicit works that they liked (options 1, 2, 3, and 7).

now, interaction, at least in my fandom, is pretty shitty anyway. i've had people i considered friends in this fandom point-blank tell me they read my fic and i hadn't seen a kudos from them in 6 months. i will yell until the fucking world explodes that it's a GOD DAMN BUTTON that you CLICK and takes zero effort, and yet. here we are. that 15% of people? i am so fucking uncharitable towards. you don't deserve to read fic at all. you don't deserve to read a single explicit fic. it's an ANONYMOUS WEBSITE. literally nothing is stopping you from creating A SECOND USERNAME if you are THAT WORRIED about someone seeing that you left a kudos on an explicit fic, which, might i remind you, no one can fucking see unless they are on the fic themselves (or the author).

see, the thing about smut, is that for a lot of us, it's nerve-wracking to post. it's nerve-wracking to WRITE. and we are out here, putting our whole ass username on it BECAUSE WE ARE THE ONES POSTING IT (unless you post to anonymous), and y'all can't even click a button at the bottom of the fic??? a ton of the tags mentioned that this is a devil's sacrament situation, and they're right. anyone who sees you in the kudos list either also read the fic or wrote the fic. all you are doing is hurting your chances of getting more fic. honestly, the not leaving kudos pisses me off way more than the not leaving comments does lol. it's the lowest of energy. it's a fucking button. you can click it with your finger, or your nose, or you dick, idgaf, but you click that god damn button. absolutely horrible lol.

but then you gotta look at the other options, where people leave kudos but not comments. a few people were like "oh haha my explicit fics get lots of interaction" well good for you, you must have a real dedicated group of friends who reads and comments on your shit lol, but most of us don't have that! we are out here worrying over, was this hot? did i do a decent job? did i get the characters right? because i find smut difficult not just because i freeze up trying to write the narration, but because i am so focused on making sure the characters still read like themselves! and we just wanna know if we got it right, if it was sexy, if it sounded good. 56.2% of readers will not leave comments on explicit fics that they like.

that leaves us with just under 20% of people who will leave a kudos AND leave a comment on the fic if it's explicit.

look. i knew this would happen lol. i keep a spreadsheet of my fic stats (one-shots only, as chapters skew hit counts). anything explicit will end up sitting at about half what the others are in terms of kudos and comments. a lot of reblogs mentioned that people re-read explicit fics more, but in a small fandom like mine (tiny! niche! very low fic count!) i find that ALL my fics get re-reads simply because there is so little of it available, and that all the fics get the re-read numbers by the end.

if you ever wonder, why don't i have more fic to read? this is why. fic writers are putting this out for free. we are creating this out of love. yes, we all know, and have been told about 5 million times by everyone under the sun, that we should write for ourselves, but that's not the point of FANDOM. fandom is for interaction. fandom is for finding community. and fandom ain't gonna get fic if people treat writers like content creators on tiktok.

my last huge fandom was livejournal based, and sometimes i'm struck by how much i miss that. there were no hit counts on LJ. no kudos buttons. the ONLY way people could interact with your fic was to reply to the entry. and people DID. that's how we all made friends. that's how we all connected. that's how we created our community. people commented on your fic, and the ecosystem thrived. and people just don't do that anymore.

anyway. for the people who, like me, said they would kudos and comment on explicit fics, thank you. you are keeping this whole place afloat. and here are some of my favorite tags, the ones that made me feel slightly better about how the results from this came down.

thank you all for being here and saying the things you did lol. you are why people keep writing explicit fanfics.

[malinaa]

2023 WRITING REVIEW

tagged: no one i just wanted to do this and i forgot about it soz </3 tagging : board of directors i'd tag u here but this is mostly fic-based so sorree... anyway if u have already done this my b.... i wld like to see ur post tho @evcndiaz | @brimay | @usignedupforthis | @seek--rest | @posallys | @dustorangeheartssnowman | @adhd-merlin | @queerofthedagger

number of stories posted to ao3: 34 ±1 bc i updated a fic from a while back <3

word counted posted for last year: 90k... a feat (i wrote more but it was ofic so add like maybe 10k to that)

fandoms i wrote for: alex stern series, merlin, house md, pjo, spidey, hunger games, doctor who, & the grisha trilogy

pairings: merthur / arwen / mergwenthur / mergana, darlingstern, hilson, percabeth, petermj, everlark, tenrose, malina

stories with the most KUDOS: jealousy, jealousy (house md) with 522 <3 BOOKMARKS: except my life (merlin) with 137 <3 COMMENT THREADS: rip current (pjo) with 38 <3 *technically the answer to all of these is tested with torment but that's a fic i updated so i don't reallyyyyyy count it

work i'm most proud of (and why): thread of gold (arwen, bbc merlin) because i don't exactly post 2nd person fic and tbh most people HATEEEEE 2nd person fic AND i got people to enjoy it. HA!

work i'm least proud of (and why): coffee drinker (gen fic, bbc merlin) because it was just a promptfic and i didn't even really feel like posting it but i wrote it so i might as well yk?

share or describe a favorite review you received: any review that quotes a line but this one from judas kiss (arwen, bbc merlin)...

THIS. IS. WONDERFUL ❤️❤️❤️ *creates bookmark with gusto* I LOVE that you dug into what it might have been like for Gwen while she was under that enchantment! It was so creative to have her past memories blurring with glimpses of the present during the enchantment. I *felt* her disorientation, and it *hurt*. I felt so bad for Gwen all over again! 😭😭😭 That aspect of this story could have been a fantastic standalone one-shot in its own right, but noooo, you raised the bar and KEPT GOING and made it even better!!! I love that you showed Gwen and Merlin staying friends after Gwen becomes queen, and I love how she confides in him and how he immediately drops everything to go look for the offending piece of jewelry. The bit about Arthur’s incredulity at Merlin’s method of testing the enchantment was a great dash of humor, and I love that you fleshed out the concept of the enchantment to be something the others could experience so that they could truly *know* that Gwen had been innocent. And don’t even get me started on how much I love Arthur’s “Forgive me.” I love how he doesn’t think twice about humbling himself in front of everyone because his focus is solely on Gwen, consumed by the urgency of doing the right, honorable, and loving thing in that moment. You write Arthur and Gwen’s relationship so beautifully. 💕 Well done; I hate you (/affectionate) for all these feels. 🥰🫂👏

a time when writing was really, really hard: august through october... idek why i was literally in agony not writing

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: writing jj in spider-man: homewrecker because i've NEVER written him before (in my memory) and i was like. Hello .

a favorite excerpt of your writing: cannae lie i have a few favs so... killing is a love language (mergana, bbc merlin) Heartbreak snakes up his throat, constricting him at the sight of her. Morgana’s beauty is incontestable even like this, but her hatred wore her down to her bones. Gone were the full cheeks and rosy lips, the perfectly combed hair, the wardrobe that would put princesses to shame. Now, her face is sunken in, her hair a curled storm, her dress is merely black rags at this point. thread of gold (arwen, bbc merlin) Your father’s presence is larger than life. Larger than love. It looms. It casts shadows long enough to hide every hope and dream you’ve ever had for yourself. the boy and the girl (malina, the grisha trilogy) Memory fractures into shards. Real or not real? There’s Mal in the meadow. Mal buried beneath the hanging tree. Mal cold in her palms. There’s a sky darker than night. Her hands bloodied. A knife lodged in his heart. Her knife. His blood. Her fault. She killed him. She loves him. Her fault. Rest her head on his still chest. Her fault. No heartbeat. Her fault. No warmth. Cold light spilling from her palms. She killed him. The Saint’s only true worshipper martyred.

how did you grow as a writer last year: my hopes from last year was that i finally finish a multichap fic.... 😭 does a short 3-shot count. besides that i wrote more consistently and i'm finally Used to my writing style. i think.

how do you hope to grow this year: hell if i know if i could write something longer than 20k that'd be great 😭😭😭😭

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): the board.... @rosesau / @bipercabeth / @stellwood fnh...... i'd tag katie but she absconded from tumblr smh. anyway hi freaks n geeks

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: oh i don't even know. nothing ig

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: bro idek the more i write the more writing becomes fundamentally so hard to talk about ... sorreeee

any projects you're looking to starting (or finishing) this year: IF I DON'T FUCKING MAKE PROGRESS ON MY PLAY I WILL BASH MY HEAD INTO A WALL. THIS CAN'T KEEP HAPPENING. ATLAS AND VIVIAN YOU WILL BE WRITTEN ON THE PAGE INSHALLAH

[fallen-in-dreams]

Title: Special Delivery

Pairing: Hyuuga Hinata/Uchiha Sasuke

Rating: Teen

Summary: Hinata always had problems dealing with conflict. She avoided it at all costs. But when *he* catches her eye, she decides to throw caution to the wind and say “hi”.

Author’s note:  Hiya. Long time no read, I guess. It’s been five months since I posted anything, wip or not. Over a year since my last one-shot, and one month more than that since the last SasuHina. Time flies. ❤️ I’ve been trying to write what comes out. Exorcise my fanfiction burnout, so to speak. This one-shot is just a short rambly thing I wrote up so it’s only edited to the bare minimum and definitely not well thought out. Just a few low-key feels that I didn’t realise until it was done that I’d projected into it, introspectively. So yeah, Hinata’s my conduit and exorcism is a bitch. But, let’s hope it goes well. 😂 With all that said, enjoy. :)

Warnings/tags: Anxiety.

Mr Kurota has been her delivery man for a month now, since Yukina-san left the company.

Hinata had never known a man more forward with his affections . Raised in the Hyuuga household, she’d been subjected to many comments from older people on her appearance. Most of which were misogynistic in nature. It took her over a decade to process it all enough to come to that conclusion. To realise she’d bottled up hate against them. Something she still had trouble letting go.

But this man? She shuddered. He was a pervert, pure and simple. No skirting around it to pretend he was just concerned for her welfare. No backhanded compliments. Just straight, vile and depraved comments.

No, don’t think about that.

Hinata pressed her back against the wall of her apartment, her eyes on the door as the man knocked again.

Go away.

She took a deep breath and held it. 

Just leave the package outside like you normally do and go .

She was beginning to think Ino was right. She should switch delivery companies. Or at least stop ordering from places that used them. Easier said than done, since she hated change almost as much as she despised confrontation.

She closed her eyes and waited. Normally he would call her name before grumbling and leaving the parcel in front of her door. He was currently standing outside the door, silently. She just wanted him to go .

Hinata never put her last name on the delivery note. The company asked for given and family names but she just put Hina for her first name and H. for the last name. The guy had her address but didn’t know her full name and her public persona was all set to private. And her apartment building had an excellent security force. High paid. Well trained. And there were cameras on every level. Her father would not have let her leave home without all the safety measures.

I’m fine.

No, she wasn’t fine. The anxiety built up in her body and she had to slap a hand on her mouth to keep from making any sound. It reached inside her and tore her throat out. Dread. Fear. Foreboding. She clasped her free hand around her own throat as the man knocked again.

Hinata tried not to hum, like she usually did. No weird noises of discomfort. She tried to be quiet . Draw no attention to herself.

Go away, go away. Please.

She couldn’t stand the feeling any longer. But a moment later, she heard the sound of his footsteps moving away from the door. The vignette of black splotches at the edge of her vision began to disappear and she inhaled a shaky breath. She gave herself a few minutes to calm down before moving her feet.

Hinata peered through her peephole.

He was definitely gone.

A hand on her heart as her accelerated pulse finally started to subside, Hinata opened the door to collect her package. She looked down, eyes going wide.

No.

He didn’t leave it by the door. Only a note to come collect it at the collection point.

Shit.

About an hour later she got a text telling her she could pick up her parcel the next day.

Hinata was in the middle of her online study when it came through. She put down her stylus pen and peered at her mobile phone, then let out a sigh of relief. The respite lasted for all of five seconds before she remembered this meant she was going to have to go down to the company, in person.

What if he’s there?

What if people look at her funny for not answering her door? Or worse yet, mention it ? Gods.

She tried to focus on her studies. She even went out with Ino for drinks that night to calm her nerves. But the hangover wasn’t worth it and by the time the next morning came, Hinata was still a wreck. She had no choice. There was no way to get them to try delivering again .

So she raised her chin in a faux show of confidence and marched down to the office.

Hinata cringed as the bell above the door chimed when she opened it. There were several other people in the office but none looked over at her. She sighed and took a deep breath.

“Hang on, darling!”

She cringed again, but the comment hadn’t been directed at her.

Still standing by the door, Hinata fumbled with her bag, uncertain. This delivery company only had two drivers: a middle-aged woman who could lift more weights than Hercules and the pervert . But when the man nearby who bore the Konoha Shipping Service insignia on the back of his shirt stepped up to reception, Hinata realised she’d never seen him before.

It wasn’t Mr Kurota.

It… wasn’t him .

Hinata blinked owlishly at the man. With dark hair and nonchalant posture, he was about her age, lean and very attractive. Aristocratic bone structure. The kind that would have her mother swooning and looking for a way to invite him over to Sunday brunch. Hinata could see him as someone her parents would try to foist on her.

This set the fire of her anxiety racing.

Hinata quickly stepped behind one of those tall potted plants as the man turned towards her and away from the receptionist. A very leafy Rubber Plant. She had to duck a bit but he didn’t see her. Hinata peered through the leaves and saw that he wasn’t even looking in her direction.

The receptionist was ogling him but he wasn’t leaning in. Wasn’t flirting back. His eyes on the clipboard in his hands, he seemed unconcerned about her attention. His brows furrowed, he seemed annoyed by something on his roster. A minute later, he was done brooding and strode out, not looking back.

Hinata waited for a breath after he left, chastising herself, before heading to the reception.

“Hi, honey,” the woman cooed. She was about the age of Hinata’s mother. All smiles. Very forward as she scrutinised the shy woman in front of her. “Here to pick up a parcel?”

Hinata nodded and handed over the appropriate document, her thoughts still stuck on the handsome stranger.

“Well it’s bad luck for you that you weren’t home to pick it up,” the receptionist was saying. Musabi, her name tag said. “The new driver is a sight better looking than the last.”

Hinata nodded politely even as she internally screamed for the woman to hurry up.

“The other one’s out with the flu,” Musabi continued, “and we finally got rid of the old man, so we’ve just had the one driver this week. He’s such a looker!” She gushed. “If I were only fifty years younger!”

So this meant her panic attack was for nothing? Hinata fought the frown pushing its way onto her face. No. She’d have panicked anyway. Just in a very different way.

“Here you go, dear.”

Hinata bowed respectfully and took her parcel without a word. It might have been rude but she’d used up her quota for the day. As she left, she considered going to that Sushi and Ramen Drive Thru nearby before heading home.

And still, the mysterious stranger lingered on her mind. She suddenly wished she hadn’t hidden behind that plant, but it was a non-issue. It was done. At least she could finally relax.

Besides, what was she supposed to say, “sorry I missed you at my home but I was hiding behind the door and wishing for you to leave, thinking you were someone else, but now I see you’re hot so let’s get coffee”?

She smiled at the silliness of it all. But maybe I can answer the door next time .

Maybe.

Hinata didn’t have much time to think about that delivery guy in the following week. She was bogged down in her online art studies and distracted by her friends who were the only things pushing her to go out these days. Other than work.

Ah, work. Her five days a week, three hour shifts data entry job. She was very good at it. But it bored her to tears. Her father would be disappointed.

She didn’t shop much, but it was always online where she could make it work. It was almost two weeks after her waste-of-a-time anxiety attack when Hinata’s next package was due. And this was a little more important than her matcha tea and a few beauty products.

She waited for delivery like a nervous hen.

Because no matter what her cousin Neji said, she wasn’t interested in being a coward. (Though he’d worded it more politely than that.) She wanted something… more.

She just wanted to say hi.

Hinata read and reread the text on her phone saying the parcel was being dropped off that morning. But this time, despite the nerves fluttering up in her chest, she was feeling okay. Focused on her course assessment, she only allowed herself a light smile as she worked.

It was an hour before the knock startled her out of her immersion.

And panic set in.

Shaking, she set her stylus again and tried to remember it wasn’t the pervert this time. He’d been fired, from the sounds of it. And the middle-aged weight lifting woman wasn’t a bother, even if a bit loud. But she was hoping the handsome stranger had picked up the delivery route of Mr Kurota.

Hinata had no explanation for her weird expectations. She just wanted to say hi?

Why?

To prove she could? Or because she was hoping for something else? The last man she liked on sight had turned out to be a bit more on the loud and obnoxious side. She’d persevered through the relationship but it had left her battered and exhausted most of the time. It hadn’t been his fault she’d had to let him go.

I need to answer the door.

She needed to do this. If for no reason other than she could. The stranger was irrelevant in that context.

Hinata wrapped her hand around the doorknob and paused for a moment. Breathe. In. Out. She turned it, imagining suddenly the look on the man on the other side. Was he surprised? Bored? Uninterested? Kind of annoyed?

As it turned out, he wasn’t even looking at her. He’d dropped his eyes to the parcel in his hands for a moment, like he was double-checking the address. Then he looked up at her and shifted his slouching posture into a more dominant one and bowed lightly. It must be company policy to do so, since she’d seen him blatantly ignore the receptionist, Musabi.

But he was exactly how she remembered him.

The man watched her intensely. A light blush was creeping up his cheeks and she wondered if he’d forgotten how to say hello.

Hinata blinked. And after a few tries, she finally got the word out. “Hi.”

He seemed to relax as he smiled. It wasn’t a huge, wide “let’s be great friends smile”. It was professional and courteous. But the corner of his mouth twisted almost imperceptibly into a hidden smirk.

“Hi,” he said, and she felt a jolt of something shocking but pleasant ripple through her body.

“Hi,” she repeated unthinkingly. Hinata felt her face heat up in embarrassment.

His gaze flickered down over her body quickly then back to her face. Unobtrusive. Observant. But not lingering. And maybe a little calculating.

“Package for Hina?”

“Hinata.”

He quirked an eyebrow and she flushed again. She probably resembled a tomato at this point.

“My-my name’s Hinata.” She had no idea why she was telling him.

“Hinata.” He rolled her name over his tongue and her eyes dropped to the movement as he licked his lips.

Hinata cleared her throat.

He just smiled. This one reached his eyes. He handed the package out to her. “I’m Sasuke.”

She nodded, now looking down at the box in his hand. Their fingers brushed as she grabbed the edge of the parcel. It was her new Touch Tablet. Her current one was over five years old and she’d finally accepted her need to upgrade. It would also make her upcoming assessments a breeze.

Hinata hesitated, catching Sasuke’s eyes as he stared into her soul. She had no idea eyes could do that.

He leaned casually against her door jamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “You busy right now?”

Yes.

She had a tonne of work to do. But Hinata shook her head.

What am I doing?

She was just supposed to prove to herself she could say hi to him, right? He wasn’t the pervert. Her anxiety could take a hike.

Sasuke cocked his head in the direction of the elevators. “There’s a cafe downstairs that I’ve been wanting to try out. Their Okaka comes with tomatoes.”

A light tinge of pink highlighted his face and Hinata blinked heavily, her brain finally working. “Aren’t you working right now?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. His sudden shyness was cute. She couldn’t help but smile. “I can take a lunch break for an hour. You want to join me? No pressure.”

“Okay?”

He let out a deep breath. “Okay?”

Hinata nodded. “I’ll grab my purse.”

Sasuke smirked. “We’re just going downstairs.”

She felt a rush of confidence. “It’s my treat.”

He argued with her over it as they took the elevators. He’d asked her out. He should pay. Hinata would ultimately let him do it, but it was nice to meet a guy who held true to etiquette.

And just like that, he’d chased her nerves away. For an hour.

Now she had to worry how their next date would go.

But I can do this.

[majnoonathelibrarian]

2024 Fic Wrap Up

Thanks for the tag @on1occasionfork. I was so happy to see the notification!  And shout out to @cheeseplants for starting this.

What fandoms do you write in?

Currently:

Doctor Who 

Good Omens 

How many words have you published in 2024?

105,318 (!) Wow, like 10x more than any previous year.

What is your greatest achievement this year?

Blowing away all my previous writing records! Next week I’ll pass 60k published words on one story, beating my old Nanowrimo record (and that was a lot of unreadable stream of consciousness drabble, not a coherent, researched, beta-ed, work other people are actually reading!)

What are your favourite top three fics you wrote this year?

I only wrote 4 so I guess I just have to exclude one?

Red Tape (Doctor Who (2005))  (1,276 words), G – this is just a fun one shot with 14 and a bad ass administrator Donna moment.

Before She Knew Me (Doctor Who (2005)) (17,442 words), 14th Doctor and Shaun Temple end up on a little adventure that touches on both their past and future. Guest starring River and Jack.

Good Works (Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Some Guy & Terry Pratchett) (currently 52,526 words) My 1980s political human AU.

What was your biggest pit of despair moment?

I knew I was going to take a break while travelling in October so I had spaced out publishing to make sure I didn’t leave things on a cliffhanger but I didn’t know I would get COVID on the flight back and then, just as I was recovering from that, get hit upside the head by a election-triggered existential crisis. There was a while where I wasn’t sure I would get it together to come back to writing but, six weeks later I got another chapter up!

What have you learned?

Long stories are hard – especially if you insist on publishing each chapter as it’s written. Because you will figure things out later in the process that you could have threaded through the earlier chapters. Knowing the whole story is pretty important if you really care about building towards a conclusion that is both surprising and coherently unsurprising because it all clicks together, as it should. 

I don’t know if I can write without the comments and kudos along the way, but I would like to try getting through a whole work before publishing just so I can see what it’s like to have the whole draft open and editable when it’s all worked out. 

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground?

I loved the Rogue character in Doctor Who and I made a few bullet points about having Ruby and Rogue run into River (and yes, all the “r” names get called out early on). It would have been a Doctor Light french farce in space. But the mood passed and I don’t think I’ll come back to it unless the character makes another appearance and I’m more inspired. 

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out?

Only casually. I do want to look for more opportunities to ‘give back’ to the community in 2025!

I did get a chance to give early feedback on Headlong and I’m excited to see where that goes.

What three fics have you read this year that you love?

Haha, 3? Man, top 30 would be hard enough. 3 is comical!

I’m going to skip the BIG CLASSICS and shout out some less well known ones that really grabbed me and keep bringing me back.

Rearrangements by sheendav E, 60k, Human AU, the slowest burn possible (they don't even talk for like 30k)

always crashing (in the same car) by mayhawk 32k, E, Cannon time loop. Probably in my top 3 ever.

Seirbheis by Kalimyre 27k E,  mind the tags. Clear communication and consent is so hot. 

What ideas are percolating for next year?

Untitled Wine Mom AU for the Ineffable Wives – Recently divorced Angela moves to town and meets single mom Antonia. Can they figure out how to survive carpools and PTA meetings? And maybe some healthier coping mechanisms?

“Nobel Prize for Idiots in Love” – Two brilliant scientists vying for the prize and totally failing to discover what’s glaringly obvious to everyone around them. Tell me in the comments if either of those sound like something you would read!

Who do you want to thank? A huge THANK YOU to @on1occasionfork for reaching out to invite me to join GOAD (wow, just wow! it was a game changer for me) and for being such a kind touch with the copy edits and always ready with encouragement! And to @nosferatini and the whole @goodomensafterdark  crew for always being supportive and welcoming. What a great group. Gives one hope in grim times.

[officialchristiancagebbgirlblog]

Could you please write something for prompt 37 and 71 from the normal prompt list? Maybe the reader has atopic dermatitis and during a bad flare up people start making fun of her online so Christian has to comfort her.

If you're uncomfortable with the topic maybe you could change it to something else with the prompts that you feel more comfortable writing, I love your stories

37: “he/she said what to you?”

71: helping you/them feel better

Fic type: fluff

Word count: 1049

Warnings: mention of horrible comments

Link to masterlist

Hi lovely, just wanted to say (and for those reading) that topics like these are absolutely fine for me to write! Like I mentioned on my pinned post, I’m an open book. I’m comfortable writing about pretty much anything besides the few that I mentioned! I appreciate you checking in though, but I hope I wrote about this okay. I tried to get it as accurate as possible. As someone who has mild eczema, I feel the pain 😔

Happy reading 🩵

“The food at the venue was so fucking good tonight, right?” Christian exclaimed, a wide smile on his face. It was a successful show that night. He had finally returned to the ring after a few weeks away. Not only was he excited about being in front of the crowd again and being in front of the camera with you, but also for the food. At this arena, they always served the best meals. You returned the smile, kissing his cheek as you made your way into the hotel room to sort out a small problem you had been facing.

Due to the weather becoming warm again and dealing with the heat of the arena, your skin had been playing up. The heat around you was a humid one, making you sweat a bit more than usual. And just your luck, moments before you and Christian were due in the ring for a promo, you had a flare up. Your skin was red, dry, sore and itchy. Beyond the uncomfortable feelings it was also painfully obvious on camera. That day, you had chosen to wear lighter colours to contrast against the black that your boyfriend wore which meant the condition of your skin was far more obvious than usual. So you sat on the stool by the dresser, applying the lotion prescribed by your doctor to try and soothe the pain that, thankfully, stuck to your arms alone.

Christian sat his cute little butt in the middle of the bed, laying back with a content sigh. He was still very full from the food he had eaten that evening. Laying there with his phone in one hand and the other resting on his head, twirling his hair, he decided to scroll through Twitter. It was a fun pastime for him; he’d get all sorts of stuff on his feed ranging from cats, to cooking videos, and back to wrestling. Feeling the urge to put himself over, he looked up the tag of his name to see what everyone was saying about his appearance on the show. But as he looked through recent posts, his smile faded.

A good portion of his “fans” decided to take shots at you, calling you rude and disgusting names, making fun of your skin. The more he read, the angrier he became at their disgusting comments.

“Oh…that’s a bit…” you said, voice trailing off. Christian hadn’t noticed you pull out your phone after getting notifications of direct messages on your Instagram from those aforementioned “fans”. The bullying had continued across most social media platforms and thus one particular message had completely shattered you. Normally you wouldn’t let comments like these get to you as they only looked for attention. But it was particularly harsh that you allowed it to pierce your heart.

“What is it?” Christian asked as he jumped off the bed, walking towards you. Unfortunately, you were completely unable to speak without risking a breakdown in front of him. So you handed him your phone to read the message in which this person had compared your appearance to a certain horror movie character, and suggested that you “off yourself”.

“He said what to you?!” He practically shouted, anger getting the best of him as another message came through, making fun of your appearance yet again. Realising that he was giving those people what they wanted by paying attention to them, he put your phone down and began pacing, chest heaving with pure anger. You looked at your phone, sadly wondering why some people could be so cruel over something they didn’t understand. At this point, the pain on your skin returned.

“Here, let me put the lotion on for you.” He said, voice softening at seeing the uncomfortable look on your face. The more you thought about their words, though, the more upset you became. Christian gently rubbed the lotion into your dry skin with the tips of his fingers. He knew that this was the least painful way of rubbing it in. He peeled up to see tears well up in your eyes as you avoided eye contact with him. You had cried in front of him before but it still didn’t change the fact that you hated doing it.

Sighing, he pulled you in for a hug once he had finished up. Rocking you side to side, he stroked your hair, whispering “shh, shh” into your ear as you let the emotions take hold.

“I know that it’s hard to accept loving words,” he began, letting his hand drift down to your back, “but you truly are the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen. Skin issues or not.” He pulled back to look at your beautiful face, cupping your cheeks with a genuine smile.

“Having to deal with this must suck in every way possible. But the way you handle it is so beautiful to me. I love how you never let it affect your confidence, you still wear whatever you want whether you have a flare up or not. I love how you always take comments in your stride, and educate those who don’t know any better or are curious. I just…I love everything about how you deal with it. And I love you, unconditionally. I want you to remember that you are the most beautiful person I know. Inside and out.”

You leave forward to kiss him, ignoring the tears that rolled down and stained your cheeks. He was truly the best thing that had happened to you, and you were forever grateful that you had him in your life. It was hard dealing with situations like this but knowing he would always be there by your side made it so much easier.

“You wanna take a quick selfie for my Instagram?” He asked, knowing it was something you enjoyed doing. He’d always shower you with love and affection when he posted you. So despite knowing you’d get some negativity, you agreed with a big smile. You could never say no to appreciation from him. Once the photo was up, as expected, the horrible comments continued. But you did your best to ignore them, choosing instead to allow Christian to love all over you, kissing every inch of your body to the delightful sound of your giggles.

[mathmusic8]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @musewrangler!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 17

2. What's your total AO3 word count?  395,117

3. What fandoms do you write for? 

Aside from random one-shots, mostly Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Star Wars, but I have some Lego Monkie Kid things coming up :D

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Lost and Found – Fives and Kix (Star Wars)

Only Partially Applied (Star Wars)

Wow, What a Coincidence (TMNT)

WWAC Extras (TMNT)

Ice Cream Makes Everything Better (TMNT)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! I have a small pile I’m meaning to get to tho haha

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

At the moment, probably Only Partially Applied, mostly because it’s an angsty fic and I don’t know if I’ll come back to finish it

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably a tie between Lost and Found and WWAC. If I had to choose I’d say Lost and Found, being a Star Wars fix-it/happiness AU and all. WWAC had more of a build-up to the happy ending, though, while Lost and Found it was kind of fun last-second twist

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I have a few crossover once-shots, plus WWAC if you count multiple iterations of tmnt as crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Don’t think so

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really? Not a fan fic, at least—I collaborated with friends for some original fics when we were kids. Lately I’ll talk through ideas and have a couple of shared AUs with a few select people, but those haven’t been fully written or shared yet.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I’m not a super shippy person. Some ships are done well, but it’s not generally what I look for when I’m reading or writing. The last shippy stuff I read and liked was Zelda and Link (Twilight Princess, Breath of the Wild, and Tears of the Kingdom), but I’m not a die-hard on any of them.

For example, probably my favorite romcom fic I’ve ever read was TP Link and Zelda, but I’d love to see TP Link with Ilia in a healthy relationship that doesn’t end in tragedy (not sure why the fandom keeps doing that to them). I haven’t found a fic like that yet, though, and I don’t care enough to write my own.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Ahhh Only Partially Applied my poor child. You deserved better. Also the Lost and Found sequel. There wasn’t a ton of plot, but I had a few concepts I’d hoped to put out there (like a little Omega/Cal Kestis action).

16. What are your writing strengths?

Convoluted plots. Also maintaining a character’s individual voice and motivations. I want to say dialog, but it really depends on the day for me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Exposition. Filler scenes and stuff that helps a fic feel more like a full and complete story when it’s done right. Some of my favorite fics to read are slowburns that do this extremely well, but I tend to get impatient and rush things when I write.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I used to be all over it when I was a kid, but after seeing it from others, I realized it’s not my favorite thing to read unless it’s handled a certain way, like including certain words for multi-lingual characters to add to realism, or entire sentences to show that the main character (and audience) aren’t expected to recognize what a certain character is saying. Things like that. As a writer I personally avoid it now.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

On AO3? Undertale. First ever? My Little Pony, I guess? I hadn’t even seen the show, just played with the toys and started writing stories about them, if that counts.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Ooo probably Lost and Found. It was my first long fic, and written in a frenzy of inspiration without a super firm plan beforehand. I was super burned out by the end, but it was a ton of fun and I gained a lot of friends along the way.

Have to give WWAC a shoutout, though. It was longer, actually planned out, and had a Dracula-Daily style posting schedule that made last-minute chapters super rushed, but it was an absolute joy to write, and I hope to continue the story a bit further.

If you read this far, consider yourself tagged!

[theladyofshalott1989]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you for the tag @heyitszev, @thetotomoo, and @infernalrusalka! It was so fun reading all of your answers, too <3333

1. How many works do you have on AO3? Eleven!

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 220,491 posted currently (about 60k more written but not posted yet).

3. What fandoms do you write for? Hogwarts: Legacy (10 works) and Bridgerton (1 work).

4. Top five fics by kudos? "Like Moths to a Flame", "Burning Bright", "The Reynolds Dilemma", "Heart's Pleasure First", "Love's Not Time's Fool".

5. Do you respond to comments? In the words of Severus Snape, "Always." <3

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? My Sebastian Sallow/You one-shot "What Was I Made For?"

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Nearly all of my fics end happily, but I think from a "wow, the characters went through hell and back and yet they somehow got a happy ending" perspective, I would probably say "Burning Bright."

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not directly on them yet (thankfully), but I have definitely received anonymous hate here on Tumblr and Reddit. Those people can suck it. Affectionately. 🙃

9. Do you write smut? Yup.👍

10. Craziest crossover? No crossovers yet, although I'm hoping to write a Hook (the 1991 movie) & Peter Pan (the book by J.M. Barrie) long-fic someday. That's not all that crazy though...haha.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of, but I don't go looking. Eek.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but that would be very cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I'm currently co-writing an MC x MC fic with heyitszev. Someday we'll (hopefully) finish it because it's SO FREAKING GOOD ALREADY. AHHH.

14. All time favorite ship? I have consumed many ships over the years, but the one that always sticks with me is Cassian/Jyn (aka Rebelcaptain) from Rogue One. My own ship (Sebastien, Sebastian x Damien) may also be added to this list soon as these boys have consumed my every waking thought for nearly a year and a half now. Lol.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I don't think I've ever not finished a WIP? Hopefully I didn't just jinx myself...

16. What are your writing strengths? Banter, emotional whiplash (sorry lol), foreshadowing, and plot twists. At least I think so. Haha.

17. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I like it! I minored in Spanish in college and have always wanted to use Spanish in a fic, but haven't really had the opportunity to yet. Maybe if I ever get around to writing a Cassian Andor-centered fic, I'll finally do it. We'll see.

18. First fandom you wrote in? Star Wars! I wrote a shit ton of Anakin/Padme when I was a young teen.

19. Favorite fic you've written? If you had asked me a few months ago, it would have been "Burning Bright", but it's now my current WIP, "You Cannot Put a Fire Out." I put a lot of myself and my insecurities into these two fics, and they were both written at a pretty emotionally turbulent time of my life, so they have a special place in my heart.

20. There's no twentieth question, so take this as your cue to give yourself a hug. (Yes, I'm talking to you!) <3

No pressure tags: @morelikeravenbore @endless-starlight-legacy