#my writing and fics

[cyanide-latte]

TWST giftfic: Happy Birthday Gia

Word count: 1695

Characters: @ramshacklerumble's Gia Yugo (duh,) Grim, my boys Copper Benoit and Wei Renqiao, and @tixdixl's Kingsley Tyr and Emil Lehr (latter briefly mentioned)

Warnings: None apply [though it does just kind of come to a stop rather than a proper ending, sorry about that]

—————

The first hints of crisp fall weather were alive on the air as Copper Benoit made his way up the long walk to Ramshackle Dormitory, and though the cold didn’t exactly bother him, he was grateful for the minor resistance his dorm uniform gave him against the nip of the wind.  Typically even that wouldn’t bother him—his affinity for wind magic meant he was making friends with the element itself—but there was a childlike eagerness to the wind right now, meaning it was a little less inclined to cooperate.  Still, he liked to think it was a mutual excitement for what day it was.

“So hey, what did you bring?” he turned and asked the other student trundling along behind him.  He’d not spoken to the other boy much since starting at NRC, not that the other exactly made that easy.  Wei Renqiao was very noticeable and recognizable among the students—you couldn’t be that tall or wearing an Ignihyde uniform while being that built, and not be easily recognized—but he was also rather notoriously elusive and eerily quiet with most students who didn’t know him that well.  In fact, Copper was quite surprised that Wei Renqiao had offered to walk with him to Ramshackle since they were both on the way there, especially since he could tell the older boy was a bit hesitant and awkward.

At the question, Wei Renqiao stopped on one of the rises and blinked his odd eyes as if he’d not quite expected Copper to say anything to him.

“I mean, we’re both bringing gifts to them, right?  So what did you bring?” Copper said.

Wei Renqiao seemed to consider for a moment, then answered, “Are you going to tell me what you got them?”

Right, he should have expected that response.  “Hmm, I almost feel like that would ruin the surprise.”

“Then that’s my answer to you.”

“Touché, then.”

He bounded up the last few steps, jittery with excitement, and knocked on the door with the old brass knocker to announce their presence.  He could hear Wei Renqiao following along behind, never altering his pace, and he had to resist the urge to turn around again and tell him to hurry up.  Not that he thought the prefect would leave them out in the relative cold, so to speak, but how could you not be excited for a friend’s birthday?!

Eventually, the door swung open—no creaking this time, the hinges must have been either oiled or replaced for the occasion—and Gia Yugo’s impassive face appeared on the other side.  Their eyebrows lifted just a fraction, which served as a regular degree of expression for them, and there was a hint of surprise to the “Hey” with which they greeted Copper and Wei Renqiao.

“Hey!” Copper said.  “Wanted to bring my gift over early, and I ran into Wei as I was headed over.  Is it okay if we come in?”

Gia gave a brief nod, then stepped back to allow them entry.  Copper came right in, heard a strange sound followed by a monotone “Ow” behind him, and realized Wei Renqiao must not have ducked down quite far enough to completely avoid hitting his head on the doorframe lintel.  But once inside, Copper took a second to marvel at the place, unable to quite withhold an impressed whistle.

“Everyone really helped you spruce the place up!” he exclaimed.  “Look at the decorations!”

The place really did look great, black-and-gold balloons spaced throughout, with matching ribbons and streamers. A banner with letters spelling “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” hung in the common room above the old fireplace, the mantel of which was draped with a transparent, plastic drop sheet that shimmered.

“No actual glitter at the party,” Gia said.  “Not unless everyone else is going to be doing the clean-up afterwards.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Copper agreed with a nod.

“Ah, Captain Benoit,” another voice interjected, and he looked around, grinning as he saw another familiar and much appreciated face.

“Hey!” he greeted Kingsley Tyr, then glanced between him and Gia.  “You’re not about to leave, are you?”

Kingsley raised his visible eyebrow, but said nothing.  Copper understood the invitation to proceed for what it was.

“Just wanted to give my gift early, that’s all.”

“Mmn, so did I,” Wei Renqiao suddenly spoke up, and Copper nearly jumped out of his skin.  For a second, he’d forgotten the guy was there.  Wei Renqiao didn’t seem to notice as he continued, “Apologies, I don’t wish to be rude, but I agreed to help Ortho prepare for the party later.  If I could just drop this off…?”

He lifted a rectangular parcel, wrapped up in a cloth that Copper guessed was a pretty little tea towel, and held it out to Gia.  For the first time, Copper could smell something warm and sweet coming from it.

“Uh, thanks…” Gia began, only to be interrupted by another voice.

“Oooh, I thought my amazing nose smelled some grub!” Grim sprang out of nowhere onto Gia’s shoulder, clinging there like a baby sibling with too much rambunctious energy.  “What is it, huh?  Gimme gimme!”

“It’s red bean bread,” Wei Renqiao explained.  “Don’t worry, I made enough for you too, Grim.”  He gave a pointed glance at Gia then.  “I could throw something together to bring to the party if more refreshments are needed, but this is just for you.”

Gia looked up at him, nodded, and gave the barest twitch of the corner of their mouth in a not-smile of gratitude as Grim let out a snicker of greedy glee.  The Ignihyde student nodded in response to Gia, made a small huff of satisfaction, and turned to leave.  His footsteps were surprisingly quiet for someone so big, though there was another faint thump and a tired, compulsory “Ow” before the front door opened and shut again.  Gia let out a short exhale through their nose at that, and Copper wondered if it wasn’t almost a laugh.

“What about you?” Grim demanded, immediately turning to Copper.  “C’mon, c’mon, what’d you get my hench-human?!”

Copper let out a small, warm chuckle.  Grim had won him over with his antics before, and now was no different.  He was as fond of the direbeast as he was respecting and admiring of Gia, and really, the two were a package deal when you really came down to it.

“You’d think it was your birthday, Grim,” he remarked, before holding out his box to Gia.  “Actually, I’m glad you’re here too, Tyr.  You actually helped me with this.”

Kingsley looked at him, eyes widening slightly, the smallest spark of curiosity present there now.  Gia caught the look as well, and stared at Copper without a word or a change in their expression.  There was nothing wrong there, just a contemplative beat, and then they started to open the box, Grim leaning in over their shoulder, eyes wide as well.

Gia handed the ribbon from it off to the direbeast, then lifted the lid, and Copper saw a change come over their face.  It wasn’t a huge one, but enough for him to realize that the gift had had at least some of the impact he’d been hoping for.

“Mwrah?!  Gloves?” Grim said, not bothering to hide his confusion and disappointment.  “What kinda gift is that?”

“Well, I was going for practical, and all I could think of was gardening gloves,” Copper admitted, “though I know maybe these won’t be so practical after all.”

“They’re monogrammed,” Gia said, voice a little quieter than normal, lowering the box enough for Kingsley to see, and also for Copper to take another gander at the gloves himself, to see the beautiful, interlocking initials G.Y. on the backs of them…as well as the small design beneath the initials.  “They’ve got my slingshot on them.”

There was the faintest of sounds from Kingsley, and Copper looked at him just as the Diasomnia boy turned his gaze in his direction.  “So that’s why you were asking me about their slingshot’s design.”

Copper nodded, no longer holding back his smile.  “Embroidery and monogramming isn’t uncommon in Port o’ Bliss,” he said.  “I asked Sam if he knew of any professionals who would do long distance orders, and he put me in touch, and when I saw they’d be willing to include a small design with the initials…” He shrugged.  “Just seemed right to make it your slingshot.”

Gia was blinking a little, poking at the one other thing Copper knew was in the box.  “There’s oil.” 

“Yeah, for treating them,” he said.  “Help ‘em last longer.”

Gia didn’t say anything for a moment, brushing a thumb over the gloves.

“Thank you,” they finally said.

“Happy birthday,” Copper replied, hands going to his hips.  He wasn’t entirely sure Gia would end up using them, given the monogramming, but their interest in horticultural research was known to him by now, and everyone who worked with plants needed some nice, durable gloves.

There was a sudden buzz from his phone in his pocket and he startled, pulling it out quick to see a text from his dorm brother, Emil.

“Ohhwh…” he groaned.  “Talk about timing… Hey, I gotta go take care of this real quick, I’m really sorry.  My help’s needed, got an SOS.”

Gia looked up quickly from the gloves.  “You coming to the party later?”

Kingsley mirrored their look, and Copper felt a small bubble of joy in his chest.  He wasn’t sure if he was imagining the hopeful sound or look from them, but it was nice to think about.  Their friendship was a touch unusual, somewhat born from a unified need to get to the bottom of Jamil Viper’s scheming during one fateful winter break, but that event had created in Copper a sense of trust and camaraderie with both Kingsley and especially with Gia that went beyond anything that had been there prior. In a way, he quite felt like the three of them could easily overcome anything if they decided it was in their collective way, and he couldn’t think of missing one of their birthdays.

“I’ll be here early, and I’ll stay late to help clean up,” he promised.

—————

Happy (slightly belated) birthday, Gar [and Gia]!!

Taglist: @blithesharem @elenauaurs @inmateofthemind @ramshacklerumble @tixdixl

@distant-velleity @rainesol @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @twst-migraine

@natsukishinomiyaswife @the-trinket-witch (DM me if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist for my TWST OCs stuff)

[roboticnebula]

Pros of re-reading your own fic

a good time;

Has exactly the tropes you like and the characterization you want to read;

Gratification: yes you did finish a thing and yes you did do good;

just a very fun time all around.

Cons of re-reading your own fic:

Is that another TYpO

[balrogballs]

i'm a writer irl (can't say who because my agent would rightfully put me into a blender and press the button if i go and out myself as "balrogballs") and honestly the funniest and most humiliating incident of my life was the time my finished manuscript triggered a plagiarism flag with the publisher for two lines of prose in my literary fiction novel...

.... which was word for word similar to a paragraph in a certain explicit work on FFN starring elrond and his batsman from the hobbit films, aka that one elf that looked like he ate panic attacks for breakfast (i forget his name but it's Figwit II) where the lord of imladris bends said twink over his writing desk and gives him the battering ram treatment.

and if you think i had to sit in front of one if the biggest publishing companies in the world and admit that it was, in fact, me who wrote the fic where the lord of imladris bends said twink over his writing desk and gives him the battering ram treatment in order to avoid being wrongly flagged for plagiarism, you would be absolutely correct.

(yes they published the book)

[whatsnewalycat]

Made this for u 💝

[yeehawpim]

a comic about fix-it fanfics

[pixiemage]

Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.

Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.

RIP decency indeed.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Gravity Falls was strange, and the townsfolk even stranger, it seemed.

The twins had been unceremoniously dropped off on the side of the dusty road, the roar of the bus engine fading away as the driver wordlessly drove off without fanfare. The poor man had almost seemed close to tears ever since they had entered the thresholds of this seemingly innocuous town, all too eager to speed off and away while leaving the two children coughing and wheezing in its dust.

It had not even been a full minute since their lackluster drop-off before they became well acquainted with the oddly sociable and irritatingly chatty inhabitants of Gravity Falls. A single conversation with a pair of boisterous policemen already told them all they needed to know about the history of the town, as well as the whereabouts of their Great Uncle Ford.

"The Mystery Shack," the townsfolk had called it. It seemed as though their distant uncle had earned himself somewhat of a reputation amongst the locals. He was the town cryptid; the ever elusive mad scientist that lived in the outskirts of town in this so called "Mystery Shack". No one really knew who he really was; but everyone knew exactly who he was.

So, when the twins found themselves stood hand in hand in front of the rickety old shack, they hadn't really known what to expect when door had swung open with a deafening slam.

He was a strange man, their Great Uncle Ford. He seemed nothing like the cackling looney lab-coated madman they had imagined from what meager hushed information the townsfolk had offered them. It seemed as though the tales of a scientist gone mad that experimented on stray children that wandered into his spooky "Mystery Shack" was but a cruel rumor.

He mostly just seemed unhealthy, to be honest. His sickly, pale frame utterly drowned in the thick red woolen sweater that practically seemed to hang off of his lanky body like a second flap of skin. It made him look almost child-like, like a kid trying on their parents clothes; which somewhat diluted the intimidating effects of his looming height.

Although, the townsfolk's apparent fear of their Great Uncle Ford seemed to have some merit.

For one, Grunkle Ford really didn't seem all too human. He wasn't inhumane, per se; just, not entirely himself, if that made any sense. Looking at him was like looking at an incomplete puzzle; or looking at someone who you remember all your life wearing a hat, suddenly coming to work one day without one, and it takes a little too long for you to remember what is missing.

It was like Grunkle Ford had lost pieces of himself. Somewhere, to someone. His eyes seemed... almost empty. They were a little too dull and a little too opaque, lacking the lively shine of life everyone else seemed to have.

Another thing was that Grunkle Ford wasn't entirely alone. There was... someone else. The twins couldn't exactly pinpoint where, but they could feel its stare, whatever or whoever it was. They could almost feel its stare, a non-existent eye trailing a weird prickling sensation across their skin. The twins recalled the words of one of the townsfolk, a tall bestacled man with haunted blind eyes; although unseeing they could have sworn his gaze never seemed to leave them, as all he said was:

"Don't catch IT staring at you"

The twins had an odd feeling that IT was looking at them right now.

They didn't even notice when the pale bony hand of Grunkle Ford suddenly reached into their personal space, barely registering his words at all, much less the extra fingers that adorned each of his rough, worn palms.

They didn't take the hand.

If the twins had thought the outside of the shack looked decrepit, the inside seemed somehow even worse.

Every inch of exposed wall, ceiling or floor were utterly covered by sprawling symbols, summoning circles, and indecipherable words that seemed to be in an entirely different language than any the twins knew. They overlapped and tangled into one another into big, messy, red splotches of clustered nothings.

There were notes, diagrams on ripped pieces of aged looking paper scattered everywhere, with hardly any room for post-it notes squeezed wherever there was room. Lit and unlit candles were placed absolutely everywhere; either hidden in the dark corners or openly stood in the middle of the floor; sometimes in a circle, sometimes not. The melted fallen wax had coagulated into a hard white mess onto the floor; the smell of cheap vanilla scented candles intermingling with the smell of halloween fake blood (and Dipper was convince there had to be some real blood there, too) to create a sour concoction that stung their noses unpleasantly.

The shack was sparsely furnished with rarely any furniture at all. Not even a couch, the tables and chairs simply pushed to the walls to make more space for the endlessly swirling symbols and pentagrams. The twins were hesitant of stepping on any of the summoning circles, carefully sidestepping the candles and walking over the line of the pentagrams.

The attic, where they would be residing, was not much better.

Maybe they did end up in a mad scientist's house, after all.

[eridan-ampora]

i love it when characters are codependent. i love it when losing someone feels like losing a limb. i love it when two people "complete" each other so wholly and terribly that one can barely function without the other. i love it when the fear of losing the only person who understands them is so all-consuming they'll destroy anything to stay together, including themselves.

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

unstoppable force (desire to write) vs immovable object (tired)

[spectralsleuth]

Reblog and put your rare pair in the tags/comments! I want to see the depths people will go to create, for the most random two characters in the most obscure media.

[littlelightfish]

This... this is a whole different kind of psychic damage here. When nightmares got Marcille, we get to knew that her's biggest fear is outliving her friends. This isn't even canon probably, but look at this. This isn't a "I don't want my friends to die" kind of dream. This is a "I'm terrified of loosing my daughters, of something killing them, and being incapable of stopping it" kind of dream. It's so simple yet it explains perfectly the whole of chilchucks character. He loves, he cares, deeply. But he, or doesn't acknowledges, or doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.

Besides that. Someone had to wake him up after this. Imagine the devastation in this man after he wakes up. He just saw his three little babys murdered corpses (or maybe he saw them die, wich isn't better). He would possibly not talk about it, and that would worry the hell out of the party, because we'll, they see him all down and only one of them knows what he saw. Imagine being the one to pull him from that nightmare. Seeing this man, usually so composed, fuking staring with tears and terror in his eyes to the composes of what you can only assume are his daughters. It would be heartwrenching.

Idk, I love this man so much...

[cyanide-latte]

TWST fic: birthday surprise

[Word count: 1,864. No warnings, just ocxcanon fluff. Ends abruptly.]

———

“You…do know you don't have to do this for me, right?” Copper asked worriedly, feeling his face grow warm as he shot his boyfriend a shy glance.

Kalim smiled, radiant as he always was, and propped his chin in his hands.

“It's my birthday,” he answered. “And I want to share it with you.”

“You can share anything about your birthday with everyone, though,” Copper pointed out, glancing back over his shoulder at the well-lit dorm. Music continued to pour out of it, and they could hear laughter and chatter mixed in among the sounds, amused and bright. Copper couldn't help a small chuckle. “Well, I suppose you kind of do.”

Kalim also regarded the brightly-lit dorm with a smile, warm and calm, like a cup of soothing tea. From where they sat on the flying carpet, Copper wondered how often Kalim did this. He claimed to often take to flying on the magic carpet to clear his head, and while he was certainly one of the most—if not the most—unusual of the Housewardens, he did care about and look after his dorm in his own way. Perhaps, whether he recognized it in his actions or not, Kalim also did this to look after Scarabia as a whole, to try to be aware of as much as he could at any point in time.

“Any party is better with friends to share it with, especially when it's a special occasion like a birthday,” Kalim remarked, before turning and beaming at him with a broad, brilliant smile. “And I always want to enjoy a party with friends! The more, the merrier!”

Copper wasn't entirely sure he'd admit it out loud, but he shared the sentiment. Being around so many people, sharing so much energy, it filled him with vibrancy and a sense of life. That wasn't to say that sometimes Kalim's parties couldn't get too loud or rowdy, but Copper found he felt better when he spent time around others. And really, he was enjoying himself, especially given what a special occasion it was.

Still, he did feel a small twinge of guilt.

“But getting me a gift…? It's your birthday.”

Kalim lifted his snowy brows, his expression unusually challenging.

“It's my birthday,” he confirmed slowly, “and if I want to give you gifts, then that's my choice.”

Copper blinked, then let out a soft laugh, hanging his head and shaking it slowly in defeat. “Alright, alright, you win,” he conceded.

“Besides,” Kalim went on, “I only bought part of your gift. I made the rest.”

“Made?” Copper asked, lifting his head in surprise. The question immediately seemed to cause Kalim some hesitation, some uncertainty.

“Well…uh, I suppose I did? Well I didn't make all of it, but I still made it. Erm, I think?”

“You think? You don't sound too sure.”

“Uh, well, I guess I should just show you?” Kalim appeared to be thinking aloud, and after a moment, he reached beside him, picked up the tiny box and offered it to Copper. “Let's start with this, it's the thing I bought for you.”

Copper accepted the box as graciously as possible, gently tugging on the thin ribbon. It came undone, and Copper tucked by his knee as he lifted the lid off the box. Nestled inside were six tiny, solid-gold beads and one slightly larger bead, made from what looked like a solid red garnet.

“For your braid,” Kalim explained, tapping at the back of his own head for emphasis. He was referring to the braid Copper had previously asked him to put in his hair ages ago. It was special, sacred to Copper, and he'd done his best to maintain the braid since. In its own way, it was a constant reminder that even when they were apart, Kalim was always with him. “I was hoping to add these to your braid later when we have a better chance to sit down and I can work on it. Oh, and I'll add some parrot feathers as well if I can find some that work!”

Copper's throat abruptly got tight and his eyes stung. With a steadying inhale and a stammered thanks, he worked up the best smile he could, putting the lid back on the box with the precious beads before he got too choked up. He would think about the enormity of that later, when no one was around to see him tear up.

“Th-thank y—”

“Now this!” Kalim's enthusiasm got the better of him. He was practically on the verge of bouncing in place on the carpet as he grabbed the larger box and held it up. “This is what I tried to make for you!”

Again with the uncertainty. Copper wondered…

Watching Kalim closely, he gently eased off the lid of the larger box, then glanced down at it.

He blinked.

“This is—”

“Oh,” Kalim said with a tiny, self-disappointed groan, “they're supposed to be chocolate-covered strawberries. But I guess they really just look like a mess, huh? Aha ha…”

It looked like a solid block of chocolate mass that had originated in some kind of chocolate volcanic eruption and the strawberries that had been smothered in the resulting molten flow were trying to break free here and there at some desperate final bid for survival. Copper blinked again, trying to puzzle out what had occurred. He had no doubt that the initial effort on Kalim's part had been successful; whenever Kalim put his mind to something, he saw it through with gusto. The strawberries had probably looked great initially. But likely, some other factor or event had caused the chocolate to melt, and then it either re-solidified like this or else someone had tried to put it in the fridge in hopes of fixing it later. A passing thought in Copper’s mind was that Jamil Viper probably would have remedied this in a trice, though it was likely even if Kalim had gone to Jamil for help, the Vice-Housewarden might have stalwartly refused to put the strawberries to rights on sheer principle that they were a gift for Copper.

Well boo to you too, Jamil.

“You made me chocolate-covered strawberries?”

“Epel said you love them.”

Copper made a mental note as he eyed the strawberries that he owed his dorm brother one massive favor in the future.

“Y-you don't have to eat them if you don't want to,” Kalim began, but Copper stubbornly shook his head and, with a bit of careful wiggling of strawberry and cracking of the chocolate around it, pulled one of the treats free. It was smaller, just the right size to pop in his mouth in one bite, which was exactly what he did.

Closing his eyes, he began to chew, flavor bursting in his mouth. The strawberries and chocolate had been chilled previously, and were improved for it. Unable to help himself, Copper made a noise of extreme delight as he chewed and swallowed.

“Was it good?!” Kalim asked in surprise, sounding startled by the very possibility.

“Ca c’est bon, cher!” Copper answered, immediately going for a second strawberry. “It's real good, got lagniappe to it, know what I mean?”

“What?”

“What-what, cher?”

“What did you just say?”

His blood froze to ice in his veins as he began to process. What had he just said, indeed. The bayou was back in his speech all of a sudden, slipping out like it'd been waiting for the opportunity.

Dread filled Copper. Mr. Stone had hated whenever he started talking like that, and Copper had had to work to adjust how he spoke. True, he hadn't been born a bayou boy, he'd picked it up after living there so long and embracing it into himself wholly, but making the constant adjustment to speak “better” had become second nature. It had had to, as part of his set of survival skills, and it had followed him here to Night Raven College.

He couldn't recall slipping up before, not in front of Kalim.

“I, um… I was saying that it's good,” he answered, struggling to get his speech back to ‘normal’ and not draw out the sounds of his words. “That it has a little something extra I wasn't expecting, somehow. That's all.”

“Oh?” Kalim prompted gently, and in that one syllable, Copper realized that a translation wasn't the thing his boyfriend wanted explained. “I'm happy to hear that, for sure! But the way you spoke just now… Is that your natural accent?”

Tensing, wincing, Copper gave a reluctant nod.

And Kalim smiled warmly again, his eyes—the same beautiful red as the garnet bead he'd picked out as a gift—soft and tender as he leaned forward over his crossed legs and propped his hand on his chin.

“I really like it,” he murmured. “It suits the sound of your voice much better. Will you say something else?”

It took him a moment to process. Kalim…liked the way he spoke? He didn't mind the sound of the bayou coming through in his voice? He wanted to hear more? Copper was left reeling. This was so different, so so different than what he was used to enduring. He needed a moment to remember something he could say, and eventually, what with the birthday party going on, he blurted out the only other thing that came to mind.

“Laissez les bons temps rouler.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that! Does it mean something special?”

Copper lifted the corner of his mouth in a half-smile. “‘Let the good times roll’,” he answered.

Kalim's smile broadened into a surprised, delighted grin.

“Oh that's perfect! Will you teach me to say it?”

“Eh, we can practice.”

“Yes! Oh, but I want you to be free to speak it how you naturally would, Copper! I like the sound of your accent. It really suits you!”

Feeling more than a bit embarrassed, Copper scratched the back of his neck and muttered a quick “if you say so then, cher,” before finally popping the second strawberry in his mouth.

“Oh, and what does that mean?” Kalim asked. “You said that word before. Cher?”

There was a very near miss as Copper almost choked on the strawberry and had to take a second to regain his composure. Kalim had put a more pronounced and sharp emphasis on the starting vowel sound, and Copper couldn't blame him. He'd never said the word before, and it usually took a try or two for someone to soften and get the short “a” sound of the word.

“Yes,” he finally confirmed. “Cher.”

“What does it mean?” Kalim pressed, leaning forward.

Copper raised a brow. “Wanna take a guess?”

“Hhhmmmm…” Kalim puffed his cheeks out a moment, face scrunched up in thought, before he asked, “Could I have a hint first?”

Unbidden, Copper grinned, hit with a sudden impulse. He gave into it, leaning forward to cup one side of Kalim's face in his hand as he kissed his opposite cheek. What the heck, he was the birthday boy, after all.

When he pulled back, a flush had crept into Kalim’s face, visible even in the darkening evening, but his eyes were bright and dancing.

“Try guessin’ now, cher.”

—————

Wanted to do something for Kalim's birthday, ended up with this. Wasn't the first fic I've ever wanted to post for Copper but hey, I'm not complaining.

Taglist: @blithesharem @tixdixl @inmateofthemind @ramshacklerumble @simons-twsted-children

@thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @distant-velleity @rainesol @elenauaurs

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for stuff for my TWST OCs!)

[swordsandholly]

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

[autumnillustration]

"Perhaps a lesser-known gift of Kenobi's was his ability to listen."

(AU where post-banishment Ahsoka gets zapped back to TPM, strapped with a fundamental distrust of the Jedi, an apocalyptic vision of the future, and a mandate to help Anakin Skywalker. So, in all this, it's nice to have a confidant.)

edit: link to the fic

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[lgbtlunaverse]

Nothing will dispell the "the curtains were just blue" myth faster than writing something yourself, because the amount of pretentious symbolism i am putting in my silly little fanfics is ridiculous. I mean SO much with these words, literally every single one of them. This fic has twenty five typos and zero correct uses of punctuation but if there's curtains you bet your ass I put thought into what colour they were.