#maybe... ill write a little family snippet...

[sankttealeaf]

still rotating the ruetash children around in my head. quick drawing of them to appease the gods

amira is older by a good few years. rue threatened to kill gortash properly if he put another child in her so he had to Wait.

she gets little white streaks in her hair (thanks rue) and haaaates it. gortash tells her it makes her look "sophisticated". she tells him if anyone should be going grey its him. (shes grounded for a few tendays for that comment)

omar is quiet. keeps creeping up on the maids and servants. sneaking into places he shouldnt. he's overlooked by his sister a lot of the time. however he is the perfect test subject for any of gortashs experiments. (he's compliant and likes to follow rules, what can he say?)

rue thinks hes fine. she lets him sit by her when shes reading and thinks its great that hes not trying to talk to her like amira does (girl doesnt stop chatting) (omar thinks rue is really cool. number 1 rue fan over here)

i also think its fun that they take after gortash more

[yellowocaballero]

that Jason and Tim in the diner snippet was everything I could have ever wanted.... you're so good at writing Jason and youre absolutely my favorite writer of him (which I should mention is very big considering how many Jason fics I've read) and just. head in my hands. he's such a fucking weirdo. and so is tim. everyone in this family is so weird. I love it

Thank you!!! Wild to hear considering how I've written him substantially once and tangentially once. I think the fandom's a bit overfocused on him (and Tim), and while I've read some really really good Jasons I've also seen some more boring ones. I think my opinion can partially boil down into: you know that he doesn't, like, have to rejoin the family, right? That it might not even be the best thing for him? That a happy ending doesn't necessarily have to include Jason resuming his old place in the family? Maybe we can leave him alone to be in his shitty apartment and smoke weed and be in a polycule with Roy and Starfire.

Covid Puppy actually had a LOT of things to say about Jason. He haunts the narrative fucking bigtime. There's stuff to say about it. Here's a little bit of the story's opinions about Jason, and the role Jason has in this mythology.

As a little bit of context: in a certain point in the comics, Batman was an urban legend. This is a whole thing in Covid puppy, and the story utilizes Batman as a mythological god-like figure. Tim worships that figure, in his own way. Jason has always been a story Tim's told himself, and Jason is the story that Tim wants to tell through the voice of Robin.

Morons arguing under the cut.

By the time Tim and Jason finally met up again, Tim was carefully scrutinizing a baggie of coke and Jason was carrying a stack of polaroids paperclipped together. They stopped short and looked at each other. Tim eyed the polaroids with ill-disguised interest. Jason looked confused, right up until he looked pissed. 

He slammed the door shut behind him, striding forward and grabbing the baggie out of Tim’s hands. He throttled the bag in his fist, and for the first time Jason actually looked furious.

“Who the fuck gave you this? Who the fuck is giving coke to a minor?”

“The girl you told me to chat up gave it to me.” Jesus, look at this. Yet again Tim had fucked up a basic assignment in some stupid and inscrutable way. “And I’m undercover as, like, an adult. Was this not supposed to happen?”

“No! Yes! Ugh, whatever.” Jason crammed the baggie in his pants, as if he was remotely hiding it from Tim or removing it from reach whatsoever. “You do a lot of drugs, kid?”

Despite common sense, Tim had the impression that there was a right and wrong answer here. Lucky that he didn’t have to lie. “Too dangerous. Everyone took the real drugs years ago, and we’ve been living off homebrew dope since. That shit could be cut with anything. Mad Hatter and Killer Croc are the main manufacturers anyway, so you’re kinda choosing between pedophile brainwash juice and sewer juice. No thanks. I don’t take anything Ivy doesn’t grow.” At Jason’s tilting eyebrow, Tim hurriedly said, “Weed! Her weed! For teens!”

She grew shit that was not weed, but that's none of Tim’s business. She mostly reserved it for personal use - she could have made a killing if she widely sold it, but Ivy wanted to keep the rest of Gotham as miserable as possible to keep making her own utopia look even better. She eschewed worldly greed, mainly because it kept up her saintly self-concept and reminded everybody else that she had fresh strawberries and they were eating garbage. All mana was kept strictly in-house. This was, of course, a massive deviation from Tim’s other living situation. 

“I found that out for myself, thanks.” Jason looked somewhat mollified. Tim’s heart rate settled down. “Keep it that way. Nothing’s more dangerous than regular coke cut with God-knows-what.”

What was Tim’s life? So much for the consistency teens supposedly need. Dick’s parenting books were nothing but lies. “Bro, you can either stop me from doing drugs or you can be a drug lord. Can’t do both.” 

“What am I, some kind of role model?” Jason snapped. He probably just wanted to look scary, but he couldn’t chase off the human shadow over his expression. “I’m not your parent, I’m not your brother, so it doesn’t matter what I do. Just don’t do any of it!”

Tim was way too drunk for any of that to make sense. It didn’t make sense at all. It probably didn’t even make sense to Jason, no matter how badly he wanted it to. Jason didn’t want Catherine Todd to take up any space in this conversation - in this life Jason had chosen to live. She wouldn’t have wanted this for him. Tim wondered what his parents had wanted for him. An Ivy League, maybe?

Was that unfair? Tim didn’t mean it that way. Tim just didn’t remember his family stressing out about stuff like that. They had just wanted him to be successful - because, implied therein, he would be happy. He couldn’t remember anything more specific than that. Maybe they just hadn’t spoken about it. Maybe they’d all assumed that there would be time enough for that when he was older. When he was older…

“If you’re not my brother,” Tim said, “then give me that coke back.”

Jason froze. He squeezed his eyes shut, banishing something before Tim could see it, before forcing them open. “It’s gonna be part of the rules that kids don’t get drugs. I’ve already decided. I’m gonna be better than Roman Sionis. A thousand percent. I’m going to fix things, Tim. There’s not gonna be any more kids like you and me in Gotham. So stop being a brat and getting in my way.” 

Tim couldn’t help it - he laughed. He fell back onto the bed, letting the world dip and whirl. His vision was swimming. Being drunk for almost twenty four hours straight was surprisingly un-fun. Tim had really just been trying to score a spring break experience here. Like a normal kid, partying with his zombie drug lord pseudo-brother. Brother via another man with Eldest Daughter Syndrome’s manifestations. Not a brother at all. How could he be? That would require having somebody other than Cass. 

“That’s such a Jason Todd thing to say!” Tim cackled. He knew his words were slurring, but Tim thrived on living down to expectations. “Your whole-ass plan’s revolving around doing the opposite of what Jason Todd would do, but that was a bonafide Jason Todd speech -”

Jason snarled, but Tim couldn’t see if his eyes were flashing green. The ceiling fan was churning so excellently. “Don’t fucking talk about me like I’m a character!”

“Wasn’t that the point? That there was something Robin would do, something you would say? If it’s not a story, then Jason Todd’s just a dead boy. It’s the story that keeps you alive. That’s the story I couldn’t let die.” Tim’s world was ducking and weaving. He didn’t really know what he was saying anymore. “Do you think a regular kid can come back to life? So don’t complain…who wouldn’t want to be Jason Todd, you know?” 

“You’re the only person insane enough to think that way.” Jason’s voice was twisted, shaking with tension and Tim couldn’t tell why. “Batman as a commedia dell’arte character, that was all Dick. I was the one who made him into an anthropomorphized force of nature, a damn pantheonic god. He was supposed to be the god of justice. What the hell happened to that?” 

Tim pushed himself up on trembling arms, braving the motion-sickness to squint at Jason. He looked sick too. “Are you kidding? Batman’s more of a god than ever. He’s been the answer to Gotham’s prayers for years.”

“Rich kid! Gotham sound like a prayer to you? It’s a cry for justice!” Jason stepped forward and jabbed a finger at Tim’s chest. Tim managed not to flinch this time. Maybe it was the waver in Jason’s voice. Lost, and calling for home. “Batman’s the cry that’s heard. He’s meant to listen! But all Bruce ever hears is the sound of his own voice. The Joker needed justice and he didn’t listen. His own damn children are crying for help and he couldn’t hear them. Who the hell is telling the story now? Is anybody even listening? Am I the only one left who gives a shit?”

And, despite everything, Jason had managed to hurt Tim after all. 

“What about me?” Tim asked. “Do I look like I don’t give a shit?”

“You look like a cultist.” Jason’s face was hard, and no shadow crossed it. In this, at least, he held conviction. “I never wanted Robin to end up like you. You’re the last thing I fucking wanted. Bruce spat on my fucking grave with you.”

Wow. Ha ha. That had been fun while it lasted. Having delusions was great. Fantasies, dreams, wishes - warmth in a cold night, so long as they stayed stories. Fantasies weren’t meant to come true. A dream that came to life was a nightmare. Tim had to wonder if he was having a nightmare right now. 

Jason Todd hated Tim Drake. Well, get in fucking line. 

“You’re right,” Tim said brightly. The world was spinning, but Tim’s head felt bright and clear. Too bright to see. “I’m Bruce’s fuck-up. He tells me that all the time. But I guess that means I’m your fuck-up too. So take some responsibility, will you?” Tim laughed a little, and Jason’s eyes widened. “I listened to every word you had to say, Jason. I loved each one. So if you’re gonna blame Bruce for filling this fucked up kid’s head with poison, then you better blame yourself too. Or man up and beat me half to death like you meant to do.”

Jason recoiled, and Tim laughed again. “How’d you -”

“Read your diary. Duh. You did a shit job hiding it, by the way.” He hadn’t, but Tim was good. “C’mon, Jason. Fix your mistake.”

But Jason only stared at him, holding himself as if he was wounded. As if Tim was the one who had written incredibly detailed plans to beat him to death.

Sorry. Almost to death. The ‘almost’ had been underlined. Jason wouldn’t kill Tim. And Tim forgave him for it, because Tim would forgive him anything. He was already forgiving him this. Why wouldn’t he? 

The answer loved the question. The response loved the call. The echo loved the shout. Batman loved Gotham, Robin loved Batman, and Dick loved Bruce. The pain loved the injury, the blood loved the crowbar, the rubble loved the explosion, and Tim loved Jason. Even though Cass was the only person who would ever love him.

But Jason just stood there, looking at him. The hypocrite and coward. Tim knew what his body was saying, but he no longer had any interest in hearing it. Tim stood up, wrenched the bedroom door open, and stalked away. Jason didn’t follow him.

Which was a good thing. He ran into a wall twice. If Jason had seen that then he might have actually died from embarrassment. Because he still cared. For some reason.

Maybe he wasn’t drunk enough.

[shadowqueenjude]

So I think we can all agree that the Archerons were so weird because they didn’t bicker like real siblings, so here’s a snippet of a fic I’m writing where all the sisters are arguing. This takes place during a dress fitting for Elain’s wedding. Warning: lots of inner circle slander

Nesta scowled at her reflection as faeries fussed over her, adjusting the gown she was wearing.

“You look lovely, Nesta,” Feyre said from the seat beside her. “Easy for you to say,” Nesta muttered. Feyre looked magnificent in an electric blue halter top paired with black slacks and boots. A circlet of small crescent moons lay upon her forehead. “I look ridiculous.” Nesta glared at the gold dress she had been shoved into again. “God, it’s the same as my hair. Can’t you get a red dress, at least? This makes my skin fade out.” At last, the dressers obeyed, pulling the ill-fitting monstrosity away from her body. 

“You looked pretty in that dress, Nesta,” Elain said gently, her hair up in a jumbo bun at the top of her head, wildflowers surrounding the band holding it up. She wasn’t getting fitted today, but she had come to see what dresses Nesta and Feyre would be wearing. Not like Elain would have any difficulty with her dress. She looked perfect in everything she wore, except perhaps that black dress she’d once worn in the Hewn City. It was annoying.

“Quit lying Elain, I looked like wallpaper,” Nesta snapped. Then she sighed. “Red is truly my color, but that blonde bitch everyone thinks is sooo beautiful is always wearing it, so I usually opt for black.”

“Don’t speak that way about Mor,” Feyre said sharply.

“I’ll speak of her however I like, little sis. She’s not my friend, and frankly, she isn’t really even yours.”

Feyre glowered at her. “She saved me from Tamlin.”

“Did she do that for you, or for little Rhys-rhys? Has she ever stood up for you in front of Rhysand? She certainly despises me; thought me fit to throw into the court of nightmares. I highly doubt you’re much different.”

“Yeah, I am. Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch all the time, people would treat you differently.”

Nesta laughed sarcastically. “Because 500 year old uber powerful Fae warriors can’t handle a 23 year old formerly human woman handing their asses to them, can they?”

“You’re really going to start this now, with my wedding just around the corner?” Elain complained. Nesta whipped her head around to her. “Oh, sure! I absolutely care about this sham of a wedding! Feyre’s mate is a jackass, my mate is a jackass, but perhaps third time’s the charm with you, huh, Elain?” 

“Lucien is ten times the man Rhysand will ever be,” Elain said coldly, her temper causing her voice to raise volume. Nesta opened her mouth to say that this doesn’t mean much considering Rhysand is a small boy stuck in a man’s form when Feyre interrupted. “Wait a damn minute. You both despise my husband?” she demanded.

“What gave it away, Feyre?” Nesta drawled. “Me constantly insulting Rhysand, resisting his orders, and declaring him not my high lord? Me not wishing to live with the rest of you? Elain literally leaving Night to get away from him?”

“I thought Elain left Night because of Azriel!”

“Azriel?!” Elain let out a snort which turned into such mirth that Nesta stared. “That broody, brainless bat not man enough to speak about his feelings in any capacity? You think I’d leave because of him? As if! I left because I got tired of your fake family’s fake welcome and decided Lucien was better than the lot of them.” 

“Lucien let me get hurt in Spring!”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Feyre!” Elain shrieked, and Nesta gasped. Elain cussing was something Nesta frankly thought she’d never hear. “Lucien told me his side of the story, and it seems as if your head was too far up Rhysand’s ass to realize everything Lucien has done for you!” 

“Just like Feyre never acknowledged the work we did around the house when we were in the cottage,” Nesta muttered. Elain nodded. Feyre stalked up to Nesta and slapped her face so hard her neck tilted. “Oh no you didn’t,” Nesta snarled, and she shoved Feyre into a coat rack, taking her and the rack to the ground. The two of them began wrestling, Elain crying, “Stop, you idiots, stop!” in the background. “Help, there’s a fight going on in here!”

[fayedartmouth]

Well since it’s okay please share some info about your upcoming projects sorry but im too curious and excited for my own good and i genuinely love your work read every single one in only a week

Well, in truth, I have like 20+ fics that are technically WIPs, all in various stages of development and completion.  I tend to get way more plot bunnies than I can write, and my WIPs range from rough concepts to like 30k words or more.  So it's just a wide range.

As per usual, I can't shut up, so the details are below.

For the record, some of those WIPs I really really love.  Like I have a whole series of Shoupe and preseries JJ that I'm super excited about (their first meeting, the first time Shoupe realizes JJ's getting beaten, JJ taking all of Luke's pills as a teenager, and a few more).  I have one very well developed with a preseries JJ getting kidnapped by one of Luke's associates and Luke blowing off the ransom (spoiler alert: it goes badly for JJ).  And I have a few now completely AU takes post S3, one with Rafe getting revenge on the Pogues by going after JJ (forcing him to take an overdose of drugs, and it's so convincing that almost everyone believes he did it himself) and a Sarah and JJ as siblings fic.  That's just a sampling.  There are so many more that I can't even remember them all.

One idea that just got hold of me this week is an AU with JJ and John B in the military.  There are a few other takes on this on AO3 that intrigued me, and the brothers in arms thing could be so fun to play out with those two.  And I mean, the whump. I may have wrote a few scenes....

However, the fics that I'm actively writing right now.  I'd say there are four (beyond the car accident fic I'm posting snippets of and the town council AU I did a snippet of last weekend).

1. Best of a Bad Deal part three.  This one is still in the works though technically kind of on my backburner.  I have completed quite a bit of this fic, which spans five-six years after JJ goes into remission.  I think I have a cohesive narrative at least through the third year with a lot of bits and pieces completed after that -- including the ending, which I really love.

2. My long fix-it.  I have been actively plotting this with woudsohfiv and currently have probably 70k done.  It starts around the mid point of S4 and maintains everything we see in canon -- but adds a secondary plot that manages to subvert it completely.  LOL, I don't want to spoil too much, but it heavily involves Luke.  The Pogues will still (mostly) think JJ is dead while JJ hits absolute rock bottom.  This fic is planned to be the first of a series.  We've been a little ambitious with our plotting and have sketched out plots for three additional fics.  The second one will really dig into JJ facing his trauma and dealing with his family heritage and Goat Island.  I'm really excited about this one!

3. I write fics for my friends for Christmas, and this year, I have two friends getting JJ fics.  The first one is for woudsohfiv, and she requested an AU of the S1 ep where Barry robs the Pogues.  IIn this take, JJ goes for the gun and gets shot for his trouble -- and the Pogues are faced with the reality of what they were willing to risk.  My goal is to make it eventually fit back into canon, however.  It's probably 15k in and is maybe half done.  It will (hopefully!) be done for Christmas.

4. For my other friend, I'm going on one of her favorite tropes:  seizures.  It's a fic set in that happy 18 months of Poguelandia 2.0 where the Pogues get sick -- and JJ ends up getting very, very ill.  This one is a pretty simple straight up sick fic where the Pogues have to confront that they're not quite as together as they thought they were, and wherein John B and Kiara have to face the reality that JJ isn't really as okay as he seems to be most of the time. Again, my goal is to finish this by Christmas, and I think I can pull it off. This should be relatively short hopefully in the 10k range.

Feel free to ask more questions or specifics! I'd even post snippets if you wanted. I only do completed fics on AO3 but I'm a lot looser here.

[rainbowsparklecur]

that one character post…. with fae …,-,,2?3))3

WOOOOOOOOOO YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

First impression

ok so FUN FACT when i first started playing i was fully gearing myself up for gilman to be my absolute number 1 favorite blorbo of all time. uhhh when i first met fae i was like "oh shes cute :]" and then didnt think much about her after that iirc..........like i thought she was very sweet and all but she didnt really grab me(little did i know)

Impression now

um. i like her a normal amount.

Favorite moment

ALL FAE MOMENTS ARE GOOD MOMENTS (except yknow. That Scene. i mean it was also a good scene but also just. hhrrggnh :[ ) however gotta say favorite was the scene with her and tizo after tizo ate the weird mushroom and got sick..........they are so precious i love them so much...friend ship..........

Idea for a story

well obviousdly theres The Dogdeer Fic but uhhh in terms of fae-centric stuff i do have uh. a few ideas. main 1 is a multi-chapter(maybe) fic based on part of faes topside ending (something about her getting taken in by some family in the commonwealth?) except i dont actually know much of what actually happened bc im avoiding spoilers so all of this could be horrifically inaccurate! so uh take it with a grain of salt lol ill probably edit it when i actually liberate her. also heres some snippets if youre inchrested lol

even if the idea doesnt work uhh just take this as practice for writing fae ok i had fun writing this and im proud of it lol

Unpopular opinion

thinks. ummm not a fan of moonheart/fae x almer romantically. also have some feelings about her not being As cuddly/social/happy-go-lucky as the fandom sometimes portrays her as but thats more like personal interpretation i guess *hides behind furniture*

Favorite relationship

UMMM......dog.......deer... they have potential.............honestly i love their relationship in game not just the potential they have i just hate how sgg was like "ummm yea almer is actually IN LOVE with fae theyre both so STRAIGHT AND IN LOVE and theyre gonna GET MARRIED AND HAVE BABIES"

however i also adore fae and tizos friendship.........theyre so precious cmon

like CMON how could you not love them. look at them

Favorite headcanon

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH sifts through all my headcanons. i like the idea of her not remembering a lot of her past due to trauma and stuff(dissociative amnesia???is that the word) though i still wanna like research that kinda thing more so i dont portray it inaccurately or anything. also maybe the idea of her kinda having memory problems present day.....maybe......... uhh in terms of more light/fluffy headcanons uhhh......she likes bugs :] she loves bugs she very good with them even more "creepy" crawlys like spiders and wasps shes very gentle with them and in turn theyve rarely if ever bite/sting her. also shes maybe kinda nearsighted (if you ever see my draw her with glasses thats why lol) uh this is not projection at all. also one time i got an anon that said something about transmasc fae. i thought that was neat but uh maybe thats just me maybe im weird haha

OH WAIT ANOTHER ONE I JUST REMEMBERED when she was little she had a stray cat friend .she named him bread :]

uhhhh i think thats all THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!!!!!!!!!

[karizard-ao3]

Hi Karizard! Just finished reading Clueless Teens in like … two sittings - it’s legit the best school caste au fic I’ve come across, i love it so much. I know Eremika is the main focus but holy shit ur Aruani is! So sweet! 😭 Would you ever consider writing more Aruani stuff in the future?

Aw, thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it! I tend to include Aruani as a side ship in my longer fics. They feature in Anamnesis but I didn't tag them as a ship because they do not have a happy ending together and it's pretty much just solid angst between them throughout lol.

I'm still working on finishing my single parents au wip, but Aruani are the other couple in it. They, of course, don't show up as much as Eremika, but they are in it and they deal with changes to their relationship due to becoming new parents.

I'm going to share a little snippet, as a treat (also, I'm chomping at the bit to get this finished and posted, so I want very badly to share scenes and whatnot).

Here, Armin and Annie bring their baby on his first outing, meeting up with Eren, Mikasa, and their kids at the playground.

BEGIN SCENE!

Annie made sure Alexander was secure in his sling while Armin grabbed the diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder. 

"Is he okay in there?" he fretted. "You're sure he won't fall out or smother?"

"Maybe the sling wasn't a good idea…" said Annie, looking up at the other families occupying the playground near Eren and Mikasa’s houses. "Maybe bringing him out at all wasn't a good idea…" 

She bit her lip and glanced over towards where Eren and Mikasa were watching their kids play. Mason was running back and forth across the play structure’s bridge, doing spin kicks at each landing, while Adriana squealed and hollered because Eren was wiping her nose when she wanted to play. She had been a snotty, coughing mess all morning, he’d warned them, adding, “But don’t worry. The doctor said she’s not contagious, just gross.”

So maybe Adri wasn't an infection risk, but what about all these other kids? Annie held Alexander protectively against her body. He made a grunting sound, bobbing his fists and looking up at her. She glanced down at him just in time to see his face screw up and relax as he farted. Her heart swelled. "We're going to bring you home so none of these rowdy little shits can get you sick," she cooed. 

Alexander grunted again, not comprehending but pleased to be part of the conversation.

"Armin, we're going," said Annie.

"Sounds good!" said Armin, opening the car door he had just closed and stowing the diaper bag back inside.

Across the park lawn, Mikasa smacked Eren's arm and pointed at them.

"Ope!" he said, setting Adri free and jogging across the grass to the Arlerts. "Don't even think about it!" he said, stopping next to them. "You told us you were going crazy stuck at home. Now that the baby has his shots and it’s warming up, it's time for you two to get out of the house. He’ll be fine. You don’t need to keep him in a bubble."

"Look," said Armin. "I know it probably seems like we're being excessive to you, but you don't know what it's like having a child with medical issues."

Eren gaped at him. “Seriously?”

"What?" said Armin. "You don't."

"My kid literally can't breathe without daily steroids and gets bronchitis multiple times a year," said Eren, his eyebrows dropping into a dangerous line across his face. "What is Alexander's chronic illness?"

Armin averted his eyes. 

"Sorry. I didn't hear you. What was it again?" said Eren. He was in a far worse mood than usual.

"Nothing," grumbled Armin. "The doctor gave him a clean bill of health.”

“Oh!” said Eren. “How interesting!” 

“But his immune system is still immature so we have to be careful with him,” Armin persisted.

Eren held up his hands. "Fine. But if you keep sheltering him from everything like this, Alexander is going to turn out like you," he warned.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Armin demanded. "My parents did a great job!"

Annie reached past him to open the car door and get the diaper bag back out. “I guess a little fresh air and sunshine wouldn’t hurt.”

Armin turned to look at her, the betrayal evident all over his face. 

"I love you so much, baby," she said. "Just the way you are."

"That's not really what it seems like right now!" said Armin.

"No, really!" said Annie. "You're so intelligent and handsome and talented!"

"But?" said Armin, folding his arms.

"No buts," said Annie, heading towards Mikasa. "It's just that my dad didn't coddle me at all and I'm much less…"

"Much less what?" said Armin, scowling and chasing after her.

"Um... Prissy," said Annie. 

“We are talking more about this at home,” said Armin.

“Yes, dear,” said Annie.

“Tan I see the baby?” Adri squealed as soon as she noticed the Arlerts had finally joined them, chugging down the play structure steps as fast as her little legs could carry her and wiping her snot on her pudgy wrist.

Annie closed her eyes, took a deep, stabilizing breath and kneeled down so Adri could see Alexander. 

“Hello little Aleskander!” Adri said, then sneezed in his face, spraying him in spit.

Alexander gasped, his eyes popping open wide and his arms flinging out to his sides. “Oh, god…” groaned Annie.

Armin glared at Eren.

“Sorry little guy! I promise she’s not contagious,” said Eren, snatching his backpack from the ground and pulling out a pack of wipes. Alexander’s fists were bopping a mile a minute. His run-in with Adri had been very exciting. Eren held out the pack of wipes for Annie and she extracted one, using it to clean her son’s face while he aired his grievances in a thin wail. He was no longer enjoying his grand adventure now that it included being subjected to torture. 

“He’s crying,” Mason observed, skipping toward them to see the new baby. “Maybe he’s hungry. Mom, can I have a snack?”

“Tan I have one, too?” said Adri.

“I might have something,” said Mikasa. She hadn’t packed anything besides her and Mason’s lunches because they were going to be eating so soon but she might have a bag of chips or a protein bar in her purse that the kids could split.

“I’ll give Aleskander his bottle,” Adri said, putting her hands on her hips and inspecting the baby with an officious nod. “I’s going to take very good care of him.”

Mason grabbed his hair. “You know what? I can’t take it anymore, Adriana!” he shouted. “It’s I’m! Not I’s! You are saying it wrong! You say everything wrong! How can you be so dumb?”

"Mason!" said Mikasa.

Adriana’s face twisted with rage and she punched him.

“Ow!” Mason yelped. “She hit me!”

“Adriana May Jaeger!” Eren barked.

“I think she gave me internal bleeding,” Mason moaned, doubling over and clutching his stomach.

“He said I’s dumb!” Adriana howled.

“I’m,” Mason screeched. “You’re supposed to say I’m! Did you learn to talk at upside-down school?”

“I’s! Too! Little! For! Stool!” Adriana shrieked, punching him again.

“My organs!” Mason wailed.

“Kids with busted organs don’t get to play at the playground,” said Mikasa, sifting through her giant bag with greater urgency. Maybe if their mouths were occupied with chewing, the kids would stop screaming at each other. “Kids with busted organs have to go to the hospital.”

Mason eyed her, then straightened with theatrical uncertainty, patting his abdomen. “Hey! It doesn’t hurt anymore! ” he said as if he were as shocked by the news as any of them. “I’m okay!”

“A miracle,” said Mikasa.

END SCENE!

[crystal-sn0w]

autumn 🍂

**just playing around with writing and exploring the softer, slower side of a love story

**fictional, duh.

**long and probably not a very good part one

-------------------------------------

"You have got to stop, you're going to make yourself ill!". Sophie exhaled, tapping her hands on table next to you to try and get your attention.

You could hear the protest coming from your friend's mouth whilst you frantically refreshed your emails, but it felt impossible to turn your focus away from the screen. Just one more refresh and maybe you'll find out. You knew she was right though... the stress surrounding your promotion had been escalating in recent weeks. Sleeping in snippets, endless hours spent perfecting your cv in your local coffee shop, and thousands - and I mean, thousands - of texts exchanged in the group chat about chasing your dream. Your friends had unlimited patience with your worrying and self-doubt. You don't know how they put up with it.

"Y/N - That's enough! It's late. You're not finding out tonight. I'm putting you out of your misery." - Sam walked over from where she was leaning against the kitchen counter and slammed your laptop closed. You finally looked up and met their gaze. Sam smiled, nodded and then swiftly handed you a glass of wine.

"I'm sorry guys. I don't know why I'm like this. It just means so much to me to do this. I've worked so hard..." you mumbled, staring into the wine glass before taking a long, deep swig. You exhaled with a groan and buried your face into Sophie's shoulder. "I'll make it up to you next girls night - I promise".

--------------------------

You've been working as a support worker in a therapy office for a few years now, dreaming of becoming a qualified therapist. You mainly did paperwork for the therapists, and had regular sessions with a small group of patients. You'd studied for years to get into this field, but the end post still felt miles away. You'd always been drawn to being that 'someone' that people could turn to for support and understanding. It took you some time to realise that you were trying to fill a hole from your youth. Your childhood and teeange years were rocky - nothing drastic, but you generally were always a little blue and a little anxious. Your family meant well, but they taught you to bottle everything up or tone it down... and you soon learnt that the things you felt were 'too much' for other people. You never wanted anyone else to feel as alone as you do.

As you grew older, you did get a little better at opening up, you gained a small but close friend group and had had a few relationships. However, you constantly felt like no one really understood you, not fully. Even to yourself... you'd question the unyielding intensity that constantly bubbled away under your skin. Frustration, perfectionism and a longing to be seen and valued for who you truly were gnawed at you.

Work is where it all came to a head. You never felt good enough for the people you were trying to help, imposter syndrome set up camp in your brain and refused to move on despite any amount of praise or feedback from your colleagues, boss or friends. And as much as you loved the work, it took its toll on you too. Emotionally, you were drained. Struggling to refill your cup and find the energy to give your all. You were constantly worrying about people. This promotion was the final component adding even more pressure and stress. You'd tried a number of avenues to move you towards your goal, and each one knocked you back. If you didn't get a place on this course to progress your career... you didn't know what the hell you would do. It felt like a breaking point for you and your dream.

-------------------------------------

Girls' night was Sophie's idea. She wanted to make sure you all stayed close despite blossoming relationships. She had recently started dating someone new, and it was clear she was in deep already. You'd met Hoseok a couple of times when you all went out for drinks. Each time his lean, athletic frame lingered around her like a magnet. His dark eyes watched her so intently, and so lovingly. He was just as infatuated as she was, it was clear for anyone to see. He couldn't help but smile at her as she shared stories and jokes across the table. All the while your heart ached for someone to see you in that way.

Sam and Namjoon were also attached at the hip at the most recent gathering. They had spent summer travelling Europe, visiting museums and quaint bookshops, cafe hopping, collecting trinkets and souveniers to display in their apartment. You couldn't help but notice how Namjoon's hand never left Sam's waist whilst they both animatedly shared their own stories of their travels - finishing each others sentences. You had been seeing someone up until recently too, but it hadn't worked out. He'd been nice, but it just hadn't really lifted off the ground. He didn't seem committed so you'd struggled to let him in.

After your two best friends left your apartment, you resisted the urge to check your emails (again) and instead crawled into bed. Sophie and Sam had done enough to convince you to actually get some sleep, and plying you with red wine had been their secret weapon just in case.

The next day, you woke bleary eyed to the sound of your alarm. The first thing you did was check your email - and there it was...

** Unfortunately, you have not been successful in your application **

You didn't bother reading the rest of the email. You didn't need to know the reason why. You were done. The pain was visceral. The rejection a bolt of lightning that struck your core. A deep crack formed within your stomach, shooting upwards and outwards, splintering you in every direction. Crushed, you retreated to your bed, enveloped in the feeling of failure and defeat.

-------------------------------------

The day you finally stepped foot outside your apartment again, it was raining. Fallen leaves dotted the paths in amber and burgundy. Despite the dreariness, autumn had always been your favourite season.

Hoping to reconnect with the things that made you feel alive, you'd agreed to spend the day with Seokjin - a friend from university who had always been able to make you crack a smile.

You'd resigned from your job almost immediately following the rejection; finally realising that the pressure of it all was too much. You felt unable to continue working day-in and day-out in a job that felt like it was leading nowhere. You'd failed to achieve your dream, and it was time to move on.

You arrived at your favourite coffee shop and saw Seokjin waiting for you through the window. You'd put some effort into your appearance, wanting to feel cute and like you hadn't just spent the last two weeks in bed - your hair was falling in loose curls down your back, dusky pink painted your lips and you'd applied enough foundation to even out your skin tone but still allowed your freckles to poke through.

"Y/N! You're here! It's so good to see you again" - Seokjin smiled his big grin, blushing slightly as he motioned for you to sit. He'd ordered your favourite caramel latte and a pastry each.

It had been a while since you'd met up in person rather than just texting, so you were both a little shy with each other at first. You'd forgotten how much of a great listener Seokjin was though, and after a while you found yourself naturally opening up more about everything that you'd been through recently. You hadn't expected to offload, and you found yourself feeling a little guilty for taking up so much of the time.

"I'm sorry I'm being so negative Nini. I just feel so silly to have tried to achieve something that was so clearly out of my reach".

"Y/N, please don't apologise. But you know what I say... those who take on challenges are beautiful. It was an aspiration, and it's important to try. You can't do anything about the past, but you can help yourself find happiness now".

"Since when were you so deep?!" you giggled, whilst wiping away some small tears that had formed with your fingertips. Seokjin's words had taken you off guard. You'd always wondered how he managed to live so carefree - maybe this was the answer.

"You underestimate me, Y/N. I'm more than just a handsome face you know?" he shrugged and popped the last of his pastry between his lips. "So... tell me, what are you going to do now to make yourself happy?"

Once again, you weren't prepared for the directness of his question. You'd been so comfortable in the hardships of your life, longing for a way out but never actually doing anything that could get you there.

You thought about it for a moment, pursing your lips and letting your eyes wander around the room. Your gaze landed on a notice board on the wall nearby. A poster for a local arts college was pinned neatly in the corner. Of course! You'd always wanted to do something creative, but you'd always told yourself that you'd never be good enough. Immediately you felt your chest tighten, and the self-doubting thoughts starting creeping in.

Your eyes shot back to Seokjin. He was looking at you with such hope and encouragement, you knew you had to give it a shot.

-------------------------------------

The next few weeks flashed by in a blur of ceramics class, girls nights and tagging along to dinner parties with Sophie, Hoseok, Namjoon and Sam. You also had a few more hangouts with Seokjin. You ran together when the weather was mild enough, and took a few cooking classes together for fun. He was the perfect company for trying out new activities that you'd previously been too scared to do alone. He made you laugh louder than you had in a long time, and his carefree energy had started to rub off on you.

There were a few moments where you thought you noticed him looking at you differently, or when your hands accidentally touched whilst cooking next to each other in class but nothing really came of it. There was part of you that was disappointed, because he brought so much energy to your life that you didn't feel capable of - but also, you were just really grateful to have him in your life as one of your best friends.

You took ceramics class at the art college every Wednesday evening. It had been a challenge but you'd loved every second of it. You'd gotten a job in a bookstore and served coffee to quiet shoppers. It was a nice change of pace from the extreme stress you'd been under the past few years. Sitting by the wheel, throwing clay and moulding things with your hands took you into another world where you could organise your thoughts, stop the mindless scrolling and comparing on your phone, and most importantly - you'd made a number of successful (and cute) new coffee mugs.

You decided to go into college one Saturday afternoon to work on some pieces. Students who had progressed through beginners lessons and were able to use the kilns alone had the privilege of using the studio whenever they wanted. There wasn't many people in the college this weekend, as most students took day classes throughout the week. You filled a coffee from the machine in the common area and took it into the studio and started filing and glazing a small collection you'd been working on. You started playing some music from the speakers, humming along as you worked.

After a few hours, you decided to take a break in the courtyard and eat your lunch. Mid-October still granted some mild weather where you could avoid the rain and enjoy some fresh air. As you were about to walk through the door to your studio, you noticed that someone was already inside. You peered through the glass pane trying to get a better look - you didn't recognise this person from the back. It definitely wasn't one of your classmates.

The figure stood near your workbench, wearing a white t-shirt and an apron tied around his waist. Shaggy black hair skewed his face from view but you could tell he was analysing your ceramics. He reached out to touch one and you felt yourself rush in before you realised...

"Hey, excuse me... do you mind?" your voice coming out sounding more irritated than expected. "it's just... they're not finished yet, and they're fragile".

"Ah, I'm sorry. I couldn't resist... they're beautiful". His voice was soft, and deep. He tuned to face you and your breath caught in your throat. A strand of hair had fallen in front of his face and as he tucked it behind his ear heat started travelling across your cheeks and onto your ears. 'Oh no, not now please!' you begged yourself. Your face always gave it away. Blushing bright red within seconds of experiencing any sort of attraction.

He let out a small laugh and you were sure he smirked. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. You stood there trying to think of anything to say in return but nothing would come out. Inside you were screaming at yourself to be cool. Just say... anything.

He tilted his head, and then walked towards you. You noticed your breathing become even more shallow as he approached.

"I've been next door in the woodworking studio. I heard your music coming through earlier and liked your taste. I came to see who was in here but noticed it was empty, and well... now here you are."

He held out his hand for you to shake. You took it and met his gaze. His eyes, deep pools that felt like they were pouring into you. They searched your face and for a split second, you noticed his lips part and his tongue run along his lip.

"I'm Yoongi... nice to meet you".

[stars-of-kyber]

From the Ask List:

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

Helloooo and thank you for playing!

That's a very good question actually. I have a hard time with writing angst and only recently people managed to somewhat convince me I'm not rubbish at it.

I've been stalling with the next chapter of You Belong With Me and Of Noble Blood bc they're both tense ones for different reasons. You Belong With Me because it will be sad and Of Noble Blood... Well, I've always struggled with writing confrontation but it's necessary for Anthony to face the family he left behind almost a decade ago.

A snippet of each then!

You Belong With Me - Chapter 9 Snippet

"Yes, son, I do." Arjun Sharma sat a bit higher on the bed, assessing Anthony with a sad little curve of his lips that could barely be categorized as a smile. "You see, lad, for the past couple of weeks, I have been plagued by this very annoying condition in my lungs that had put me abed and drained quite a bit of my energy. I am sure my Katie has told you about it "  

"She did, Sir." The past three letters Kate had sent him contained some sort of mention of Mr Sharma's ailment, first in the form of a simple 'Papa has been feeling under the weather these days', which morphed into several expressions of concern in the following letters as the illness did not seem to resolve itself.

Of Noble Blood - Chapter 4 Snippet

"I must not be caught unaware." Anthony shrugged, his hand resting at the metal hilt more on instinct than anything else. "It is part of my job." 

"Your job." The disdainful sneer in his brother's words was too clear to miss. "Enlighten me about what that ‘job’ of your entails, would you, Brother? I seem to be a bit confused because I was under the foolish impression that, as the eldest son of the eldest son nine times over, your job was to take over the Viscountcy and care for the family and the estate."

"This has not been my job for almost a decade, Benedict.""Right, right... How silly of me." Sarcasm dripped from his words, the twirl of his hand mocking Anthony. "I  was not aware you could abdicate from your title. Perhaps I should look into it. Maybe Colin would like to play Viscount for a bit now while I go around galavanting only God knows where for a while with a sword on my hip until I am ready to come back."

[hetaphilia]

England & Canada Fic Recs

my fellow royal red bros fans I am here hot and fresh with some fics about the two or majorly involving their dynamic that I enjoy, mostly from ff.net and ao3 (some are probably crossposted)

Golden Child - drunk England going on about how great little America was to Canada’s silent hurt... except maybe he’s not talking about America at all. Oneshot, ending gives me a nice warm feeling.

Industry and Grandeur - 1800s, France invites England and a colonial Canada to his country for an exposition, lots of lovely interactions between the duo. Just wonderfully written, some great historical Hetalia.

Gift of God - England and Canada head to a restaurant after a meeting to chat when they overhear the plight of a human couple tables away. Canada makes a selfless choice. Very sweet, really like how the author writes them.

The Cold We Hate - ACE family overall, but royal red bros too for sure. Details the North American ice storm of 1998 and how the weather affects America and Canada, staying over at England’s house so he can take care of them.

Teatime questioning - little Matthew asks England how to get a girl to like him, except it might not actually be about liking him, nor how to get a girl to in the first place. Toothrottingly cute, love to think this is how Canada gets into tea.

On Love and Loyalty - a look at Canada’s and England’s relationship throughout Canadian history. Just good sold stuff with a sweet ending.

The Frozen Friend - winter in Canada in the early days after England’s acquired him as a colony. Canada apparently has a strange man as an old friend, but England feels wary for some reason. Then he learns who he really is and oh shit. Slightly spooky and has protective Kumajiro, one of my faves lore wise.

Haunting Echoes - snippet of WW1 with kinda snapped Canada and worried England. Short but dark. Poor Canada.

Feverish - might be if not my fave Het fic, then among my top. FACE family centric, but lots of royal red bros throughout. Canada falls ill, tries to persevere through a world meeting, and things snowball from there as America, England, and France are pulled in to care for their brother that seems to keep getting worse after brief bouts of recovery. And Russia’s there too...? Canada’s failing health may be linked to something more subtle but nefarious than any of them initially thought. Great pacing, characterization, lots of character dynamics, knows when to amp up the tension and when to give it a break. Sadly, this fic remains unfinished and is unlikely to ever be completed, but the 20 chapters we do get are wonderful. I recommend it even if just to enjoy the ride.

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

Hi! I’m Losty. 👋

My username is a play on the line “we’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year” from Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here. Chronic illness has kept me isolated and lonely and that somehow seemed to express the feeling.

My Writing

Currently on hiatus from writing fluff for Stranger Things (two years and counting on ao3!), all my completed fics are linked below. Most works are set in a post-s4 Vecna-was-defeated universe, but there are a couple experiments with different no-upside down AUs too.

Work(s) In Progress:

~ the college/coffeeshop au is coming, but idk when ~ if you wanna see a few snippets, click here or check the #coffee shop au tag below ~

***Check out some fun bookcovers I made for some of my fics!***

Completed Works:

📬 Since I Found You (18 chapters; 30k wc) No-UD AU. After an amicable breakup with Mike, El forges a bond with her new penpal Gareth.

🏀 Vecna Can Wait (one-shot; 5k wc) No-UD AU. Eddie postpones The Cult of Vecna, and the Hellfire Club goes to the championship game.

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 GreatMage: The Series

🪽 Next Time I Fall (24 chapters; 83k wc) The story of how El “Weirdo Girl” Hopper and Gareth “Junior Freak” Emerson went from just friends to something more.

🎶 Next Time I Fall chapter title playlist

🕸️ Lost and Found and Turned Around (7 chapters; 31k wc) In the winter of 1988, El reunites at last with her long lost sister Kali.

🐶 of monsters and milkshakes (one-shot; 2k wc) El and Gareth take a different path toward starting their family together.

🪻 With a Little Help From My Friends (84 chapters; 207k wc)

Covering two years after spring break ‘86, this collection of stories intertwines into a (long) tale of found family, love, support, overcoming challenges, forgiveness, and the power of friendship.

🪷 Father of Mine: The Series

Why Should I Cry For You (one-shot; 3k wc) Eddie’s father briefly reappears in his life. It doesn’t go well.

Bereaved (two-shot; 4k wc) Eddie, helped by his friends, deals with the death of his father.

Into the Shining Sun / Breathing (9 chapters; 21k wc) in Shining Sun, Eddie meets some estranged family he never knew he had. Breathing is a short postscript to chapter 5 of Shining Sun.

Gone Away (8 chapters; 14k wc) a love letter to uncle Wayne, as he takes little Eddie in and learns to care for him.

🌺 55 Fiction Collection

55 stories of 55 words each.

🌸 The Stone (one-shot; 1.5k wc)

Max Mayfield isn’t afraid of anything, except maybe being vulnerable.

🪴 Signed, Sealed, Delivered (one-shot; 2k wc)

A collection of letters written back and forth between Eddie and Chrissy while she’s away at school.

🍁 Darkness Before the Dawn (one-shot; 3k wc)

Hawkins may be right side up again, but Eddie is still upside down. His friends are there to help him through some of his darkest days.

🌴 Tattoos and Trash Talk (one-shot; 1k wc)

Eddie and El bond over being weirdos.

🌼 Not-so-iron Maiden (one-shot; 1k wc)

Max finally has the big brother she’s always wanted.

🌻 the shield and the shepherd (one-shot; 2k wc)

In this no-Vecna AU, Chrissy learns first to stand and then to fly.

Mini Ficlets:

🎆 one word challenge: firework (Eddie/Chrissy)

🥁 corroded coffin fest seven deadly sins event: wrath (Gareth POV)

Silly Corroded Coffin and Other Assorted Headcanons:

Use the tag below “losty headcanons” or click here to read the collection! 😜 also use the tag “deleted scene?” or click here for random tidbits and snippets

Commissioned Artworks:

Use the tags below or click here for “little help: artwork” - click here for “eleverson artwork” - or click here for “stali artwork” to see the collection!

[catreginae]

Me, whenever you offer a morsel of your fanfiction: It is I, a humble peasant, can you please spare me some good food for me and my family? We are in need of your good works.

Here you go! A snippet I don't know what to do with! This was written with "overworked/exhaustion" as a prompt and also writing for the "modern" TSNF (in the future with no Ganondorf but also in the past?). TW: Warriors practising bloodletting on himself.

It was the first time in a long time that Link felt truly exhausted. He was used to sleeping a lot more these days, but even when he was jumping through portals and fighting alongside with people he regarded as brothers, he was still sleeping at least a little bit every night.

At it was currently, he was on his third night of no sleep. Even if Ash was stable, he was too anxious to even sleep. He never turned anyone before. He wasn’t sure if his method was even viable but biting her might result in her death instead of actually saving her. She would die anyway if he did nothing but if he watched her carefully, she would have a second chance at life. If she lived, all of the work and sleepless nights would be worth it.

Link dipped his bowl into a basin of water and scrubbed at it with a clean rag gently to remove the dried blood from the previous session. Once he was satisfied, he retrieved a little brass box, cocked the lever, then turned it upside down and pressed the side with a dozen small lines against his arm. He pressed the button on the side and hissed as the little box did its job of making a dozen small incisions in his arm.

He wasn’t completely sold on the medical benefits of bloodletting but at least the tools were useful for the extremely niche purpose he needed it for. He gently put the box down, turned his arm over the bowl, and watched his blood fill the bowl for a whole thirty seconds before his regeneration kicked in and Link had to squeeze his arm to get a little bit more blood out before the injuries healed enough to stop the bleeding entirely.

At least it was more blood than he got yesterday.

He brought the bowl into her room, walking carefully so he didn’t waste a drop of his blood. If Link felt tired, he couldn’t imagine how Ash felt. If she wasn’t busy coughing up a lung, she was trying her best to sleep for however long she could, which was never more than a couple of hours before her illness woke her up.

“I have more blood,” he muttered as he walked inside and set the bowl down on the night stand. He shifted her to a sitting position, as she was too weak to do so herself, tilted her head back, and when he was satisfied, he retrieved the bowl and slowly tipped the blood into her throat.

Much to his surprise, she drank all of it. That was already better than yesterday where drinking half the bowl made her gag. Maybe feeding her his blood was working after all.

She slumped back into her pillows. “That was... not bad,” she mumbled as her eyes dropped.

“Just try to get some sleep. I’ll be back later with some more blood.”

Ash said nothing, as expected. She was already asleep. Her face seemed a bit more relaxed but maybe that was just his wishful thinking. He pulled her blankets up and tucked them in around her thin body, then stumbled his way back into his temporary bedroom. He collapsed into the chair, even though the bed looked pretty tempting. He didn’t dare fall asleep yet. He would sleep when Ash was better.

So, fun fact! Warriors is using a scarificator on himself and it's purpose was bloodletting. I can't imagine it's easy to clean though.

[bidisasterevankinard]

Wip Friday (Saturday)

Rules: Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file.

Tagged by @alyxmastershipper @911onabc

Thank you loves😘😘😘

File names:

Buck tattoo master

Vegas drunk marriage

little brother of best friend

6x18

Buck sold his soul for Eddie

part from little brother of best friend

"Can you imagine that they gave birth to Evan, just so that he would be my donor? How does he not hate me?” Dan speaks in a calm but sad tone, but Eddie sees sadness and anger in his eyes. 

He can understand both of these feelings. His parents have made him feel this way more than once, but he can't imagine them using him or one of his sisters to save the other.

“It's not your fault, Dan. Evan knows that. You were a child. There was nothing you could do.” Eddie knows what it's like to constantly blame himself, but he's telling the truth. It's not Dan's fault. “You couldn't control your illness and you couldn't know what they did. What they planned.

“Yeah, but sometimes I think Evan and Maddie would be better off if I died.” It sounds so quiet that Eddie barely hears it, but he hears it. He hears with what sadness and humility Dan says this and his blood runs cold in his veins. 

“Hey, don't say that. Especially when you consider that we are in a situation where people can start shooting at us at any moment. Should I worry about your choice to serve?” Eddie's not kidding. He knows that there are some people who were able to pass a psychological test for service when they shouldn't have. 

He wants to believe it's not about Dan. He should trust him to watch his back. And Eddie doesn't want to see Dan deliberately getting shot at at some point when they have to save other soldiers.

“No. No. I don't want to die, just,” Dan's voice sounds confident, but still sad. He sighs and says, “Evan deserved better from them. We all did.” 

And Eddie understands this better than anyone. 

He deserved better from his parents. He deserved a normal childhood and a father who came to his baseball games. He deserved parents who said, “We're proud of you, son,” not “You're not doing enough.” He deserved a father who would support his passion for dancing, and not punish him for running away at rehearsals.

He deserved praise for wanting to take care of his family, not ridicule and punishment when he was fucking ten. He was just so scared for his mother and unborn sister that he didn't think about the fact that driving cars was much more difficult than it seemed. He just wanted to take care of them like his father taught him, but it didn't work.

Eddie understands Dan's feelings, but he can also say that he had the better of them. He has it.

“And you got it. They gave you all the most important things. Each other. You have Maddie and Evan,” Eddie can tell from all of Dan's stories about his siblings that these two are very important to him. And Eddie can tell that Dan is important to them. Eddie catches Dan's blue eyes so that he knows he's telling the truth. 

“I'm sure they're happy to have a brother like you, too. Especially Evan. I would be very glad and proud to have a big brother like you. According to all your stories, you were a great protector and teacher for him. I'm sure he appreciates it.” 

Dan smiles a little, but Eddie can see from the creases on his face that he probably still doubts, but his posture becomes freer. 

“Thanks, Eddie. You're a great friend,” Dan speaks, and Eddie hears the honesty in his voice.

Eddie just nods. Now it's his turn to smile sadly, “Well, obviously better than a husband.” After this sentence, Eddie contorts his face, as he usually does, and both men laugh.

Eddie thinks that maybe he's found a friend who won't leave him.

Tagging : @usercowboy @jobairdxx @rose-buddie @ebdaydreamer @destielbuddiepipeline @honestlydarkprincess @diazass @loveyourownsmiilee @gaydiaz @buddierights @the-likesofus @rogerzsteven @swiftiediaz they have something to share (sorry if you've already posted)

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Finishing--The Nonfiction Part

I wrote something new today, but not with new characters. The first love story, the first novel length piece, and the first series I ever wrote were all the same story: Building (and its sequels, Community and Growth). When I wrote it, I wanted to tell a love story from start to finish; a complete love story, not the little snippet from meet-cute to secure dating, or meet-cute to marriage, which most romantic fiction with a happy 'ending' tends to do. But secure dating or marriage isn't where my fantasy love story ends up. And so many romances use untimely death as a plot driver. One of the partners is terminally ill or gets in some tragic fluke accident or something. Like real, passionate love can only exist if one or all parties' lives are limited in some way, or are in some sort of grave danger. Like that love doesn't or maybe even can't last a lifetime. Well, I grew up with grandparents that lived a real life love story together right in front of me, and I have a similar love story with J in real life, so I know that trope is bullshit. I wrote (or at least I tried to write) a series where the partners were whole people without each other first, with families and friends and careers and quirks and personalities individually...first. And they meet, and don't rush into secure dating, or marriage, but it does go there. They start their own family together. They maintain those friendships and navigate career changes. Their children grow up and get married and start families of their own eventually. The couple continue to choose each other, every day, through a 50th wedding anniversary and the whole of life that got them there, and (I tried and hope I succeeded at least to a degree) I wanted to show WHY they continued to choose each other every day for all those years.

I ended my series at the 50th wedding anniversary because I didn't want to write a main character death. I didn't want to 'use' that. But over the past couple of years, and particularly today, I couldn't stop thinking about how that story wasn't really finished. So I wrote an epilogue. If you haven't read my Building Series, and would like to, please DM me. The fiction piece that follows won't make sense if you haven't read those books/that story up to this point. But I know a few of you have read them, so rather than email you individually if you're interested, I'm just going to post it here. Maybe it's sad...more sad than things readers of my fiction are used to seeing from me. But today, I suppose I felt compelled to finish the story entirely. Now the 'end' is maybe that real love never actually ends.

[sweeterboylove]

you mentioned a while ago (maybe on your other blog?) that you had a whole outline for your novel. what does that process look like for you? do you want to share any snippets with us? or otherwise maybe tell us a bit about the characters?

so, bovzek and the devil is based on a fairy tale, so that makes things a little easier, since i already have the barest of bones to work with, and is building off of a short story i wrote in junior year of high school. i've got a few different plot outlines that ive written and rewritten, but research has proven to be most important. batd takes place in 1155 ad in eastern europe and deals with politics, religion, and the expansion of christianity, so if i dont know the details of the time period and space, i can't flesh out things more. Hence the many a night spent pouring over my old university's online library studying the environments, language development, the holy roman empire, early christian theology, and all that jazz.

the main story follows bovzek, the youngest adoptive son of a poor miller's family, on his quest to best the devil. he's the bio son of a fae and her lumberer lover; when a king of a nearby kingdom gets lost in the woods, he finds the fae, whose lover just died in childbirth. the king agrees to take baby bovzek in as a servant in his court, until he finds out the fae intends for bovzek to marry the king's son, alois, when he's grown. the king attempts to drown baby bovzek in a well, where he's found by the miller and raised to adulthood.

alois and bovzek meet when they are grown when Alois stops at the miller's well for water and instantly hit it off. the king realizes who bovzek is and plans to have him killed-- but, because of extensive shenanigans, bovzek is married to alois. the king is worried what religious authority will say if he annuls the marriage or has bovzek killed, so instead he sends him on a wild goose hunt for the devil. bovzek tracks the devil down, but finds himself trapped in hell and has to rely on his wits and new friends to escape. it focuses a lot on the theme of 'old vs new', like with slavic myth vs christianity, alois wanting to abolish the monarchy vs his horrid father, and bovzek as a mix of the old ways through the fae, and the new ways, common blood marrying into royalty.

i'm torn though; i want my book to be historically accurate, but at the same time, i dont want to write homophobia, or misogyny, or racism (bovzek is mixed race, with his fae mother being black and his human mother being white, and alois is from a fake country around the ottoman and persian empires) but at the same time, not including them seems like a cop-out. regardless, ill need sensitivity readers, but im still deciding how heavily i want to lean into the historical revisionism.

[mjjune]

[all image descriptions are in alt text]

Welcome to my writeblr!

Updated 4/4/23

i'm mj or m, or whatever you wish to call me tbh

any pronouns are fine, most people use she or they.

ask and tag games ON HIATUS!!!

i write: fantasy of all kinds, but always with a touch of queerness. i lean towards dark and mysterious with supernatural and magical elements.

i read: anything, really! mostly dark fantasy, but also sometimes short stories, classics, horror, historical, memoirs, sci-fi, and contemporary.

i mostly follow back if you are a writeblr! don't hesitate to reach out or reblog this post to get my attention <3

all ages are welcome! if i do post anything mature, it will be clearly marked but it should be very rare!

my favs: found family, female friendship, fairytale retellings, anything queer (especially sapphic & aroace), neurodivergent & mental health rep, disability rep, anything that's #ownvoices, anything with angst, reluctant heroes, enemies to [insert anything here]

this blog is dedicated solely to my writing, vibes, and inspiration. i blog about my friends' writing on my side blog here: mj-library!

My Projects:

[banner tba]

DS // high fantasy donkeyskin retelling

The widower king has the last surviving dragon, which sheds its beautiful scales every year and provides the nation with wealth and prosperity. However, he promised to only remarry if he could find a wife who was dragon-touched like his first wife. When all the new queens mysteriously fall ill and die, the last dragon-touched person in all of the islands is Hana, his daughter. She must uncover the truth of the dragons' disappearance, the mysterious illness, and how the last dragon is connected—or else succumb to an incestuous marriage.

Status: Drafting / Camp Nano

Rep: sapphic & nonbinary

Blog Tags: #w: ds, #ds snippets

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TWTR // little red riding hood retelling

After ten years, The Wolf has returned seeking Red, and the Woodsman is tasked with finishing what he started. But as he tracks the beast, he begins to realize The Wolf isn't what it seems, and maybe, he shouldn't have interfered. Maybe, he shouldn't have saved Red at all. (banner made by a friend :3)

Status: Draft 3, beta readers in progress

Rep: aro/ace and trans/nb

Full Page Here

WIP Intro Here

Blog Tags: #w: twtr, #twtr snippets

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AVOF //dark urban fantasy duology

When a vampire sleeps with a werewolf to spite the ancient vampire order and homophobes everywhere, they accidentally reveal supernaturals to the human public. As media tensions, protests, and riots rise, the vampire must choose: risk everything to save his new lover, or hunt down the rarest creature in the world in hopes to prevent war. (banner by neapaulatan)

Status: - Book 1 Complete, 102k words, shelved - Book 2 Draft 0, 118k words, editing (slowly)

Rep: unlabeled genderqueer/queer, lesbian/gay, poly, asian main role with multiple latine, black, and jewish supporting roles

Full Page Here

WIP Intro Here

Character Intros

Character Sheets

Blog Tags: #w: avof #avof snippets

[yellowsunflowerheart]

Prompt Previews

So a few of you have been kind enough to send me some prompts, and since they are all still in progress, I wanted to post a couple little excerpts from just a few WIP’s while you’re waiting, to thank you for your kindness and trust in me writing your prompts!

These are heavily shortened, so if they don’t quite make sense, don’t worry, they will be fleshed out a lot more in the real fics, but I didn’t want to spoil too much! Also, if you don’t see your request below, don’t stress! I have others currently in progress not listed below. You can always check out the queue and request or talk about ships here. I love being sent random headcanons if you’re ever looking for an ear to listen!

Below the cut, you will find snippets from:

-Doctors are the Worst Patients

-Stephen Falls Asleep Everywhere

-Tony Has Feelings About Stephen and Thor. He Doesn’t Know What Feelings, But He Has Feelings.

-The Mystery of Stephen Strange’s Daughter

**Titles subject to change

~

DOCTORS ARE THE WORST PATIENTS (5+1) (Ultimate Supreme Family)

Stephen woke slowly, blinking in and out to America dabbing his forehead and cheeks with a cool, damp cloth, slow and gentle.

It took him a moment to get his bearings, unfamiliar with being doted on. America was sat in the middle of the bed, eyes concerned and concentrated as she tended to him.

He had to admit, he wasn’t feeling fantastic, but it was just exhaustion catching up to him, he wasn’t sick, like Tony had insisted that morning. He just needed to wake up a little more, get moving and he’d be fine.

“Hi, Baby…” Stephen’s voice was a little croaky,

“You have a temperature,”

Stephen reached an arm out of the covers to gage the heat in his face, “I’m just a little warm… nothing to worry about…”

“You need to cool down.”

America persisted with her efforts, and Stephen didn’t move to stop her. Actually, it felt quite nice.

He shifted to reach an arm out to caress the side of her leg, so incredibly grateful that this little angel let him be her Dad. She was far too good for this world.

“Is Dad awake?” Peter peeked around the door frame,

“Hey-“ Stephen greeted, and Peter came in to sit on the bed, the boy reaching out to him,

“You’re warm,”

“I’m fine,” Stephen denied again,

“He has a temperature,” America countered.

Peter moved to brush the sleep out of Stephen’s eyes, and Stephen gave up arguing with them, closing his eyes and instead just enjoying having them close.

He didn’t want them to worry about him- it’s supposed to go the other way, he was supposed to stress over their well-being and helicopter their illnesses.

But maybe just for a second… his muscles were a little achy, come to think of it.

~~~

STEPHEN FALLS ASLEEP EVERYWHERE (5+1) (Ultimate Supreme Family)

Stephen was his Dad, through and through, Harley didn’t even think about that other pathetic excuse of a man anymore. This is what family was- falling asleep together on the couch during movie night. Now that Harley was the young man of the family, it was his job to make sure they all made it to bed.

“Come on, Pops…”

“I’m sleeping,” Stephen slurred,

“I know, on the couch, you gotta go to bed,”

“Just leave me here…”

“Your back in the morning’s gonna hate you,”

“Mm,”

Harley sighed.

It was a good thing he was bigger than Stephen these days.

He wriggled a hand under Stephen’s legs, and lifted him from the couch as effortlessly as a person could possibly lift a fully grown, 6ft tall man, pulling the exhausted sorcerer close to his chest as he carried him bridal style out of the living room.

“What the…”

“Shh, I got you,”

“Put me down-“

“You can’t even keep your eyes open-“

“You can’t carry me-“

“Well, I am. Shut up and let me do something for you for once,”

“You do plenty of things,”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“You make me happy…”

Harley shook his head, humoured by his fathers delirious rambling, “Let’s get you to bed,”

“Mm.”

~~~

TONY HAS FEELINGS ABOUT STEPHEN AND THOR. HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT FEELINGS, BUT HE HAS FEELINGS. (IronStrange get together)

Tony’s fist twitched, and that was the end of it.

He had no explanation for the heat consuming his body, boiling under the skin as he roughly pushed his hair back, jumping to his feet and storming towards the door.

It was a loud ordeal, enough to startle Stephen awake, but Tony was already half way out the door, ignoring the protests from the other hero’s at the meeting as he raced down the hall, hoping to escape the confusion swirling in his head.

Tony didn’t like Stephen and Thor.

Specifically.

He didn’t like Stephen and Thor.

The thought of them separately was fine. Stephen without Thor was fine. But Thor and his stupid big bicep giving the sorcerer a pillow was-

“Stark…”

Tony whirled around to come face to face with the sorcerer, and in that moment, it hit him.

~~~

THE MYSTERY OF STEPHEN STRANGE’S DAUGHTER (Doctor Dad and Multiverse Daughter)

When Stephen had asked to bring a plus one to dinner, Christine had pictured a tall, strong, beautiful superhero, or maybe someone he had met through magic. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of a kid at his side on her front step.

“I didn’t know Stephen had a daughter…” her husband whispered once the pair had passed them, down the hall and towards the dinning room,

“Neither did I…”

Her head was spinning…

They were identical.

Their walk down the hall, matching handshakes with her husband. They moved the cutlery the same, sipped at their water glass the same.

America shared his sense of humour, his cockiness, she sat up straight and her eyes owned the world, the way Stephen’s always had as a surgeon. She was intelligent, beyond what her years would allude, and the knowing glances and private jokes between them made it obvious.

America was his daughter.

Christine did the math.

Was there someone else she hadn’t known about? Had she made their entire relationship up in her head? Was there other people he was seeing on the side? Was she flirting with a man who had a partner and baby at home?

Was she a home-wrecker???

“Christine?” Her husband called,

“Hmm?”

“Should I prep desert?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded to her husband, feigning indifference.