#my other question: a writer has 180 fics

[impossiblepluto]

When an older fic suddenly gets an influx of kudos over night

How did you all stumble across this on the same day? Did someone send you here? Or are you all eclectic travelers stopping here by happenstance? Either way, welcome. Thanks for visiting

[sflow-er]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you so much for the tag, @silvagrey!💜

How many works do you have on Ao3?

Eight.

What's your total Ao3 word count?

355,461 (that's a bit deceptive; one of my fics is 239k).

What fandoms do you write for?

Young Royals. I did write for other fandoms all through my teens, but those fics haven't been online for a long time now.

Top five fics by kudos:

Other people's secrets (1,215) Matters of adjustment (190) The real deal (180) Like you better (152) Last chance (126)

Do you respond to comments?

I respond to every comment on new fics and WIPs. Having discussions in the comments section is the best thing about sharing a story, and I love my little community of regular commenters!

However, I am currently learning not to beat myself up for not getting round to answering every backlogged comment on OPS. I still try my best, but I had to change my previous "always respond" policy when @willedeservesbetter left very long thought-provoking comments on the first 20+ chapters and I simply couldn't keep up... 😅 I'm trying to trust that people know life gets in the way sometimes.

That being said, I do reply to all comments where the reader has shared their personal thoughts on the ace rep! It may take me a while to get to them, but they never fall off my to-do list.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Årnäs, February 2016. I don't necessarily think the ending is "angsty", but it's a very bleak fic with no happy ending.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

It's impossible to choose between all my Walty fics. Does the emotional payoff from all the angst make OPS the happiest ending? Or is it one of the fics that are sweet from start to finish?

Whichever one it is, I would like to think none of them are too sugary sweet. They are very happy on the romance front because I want them to be a comforting read, but there is usually at least something left for the characters to figure out on their own after the story with the insight/support/lessons they have gained.

Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully no. There is one rudely worded public bookmark on OPS, but it doesn't qualify as hate. Also, I once got a comment calling a plot point "ridiculous :D", but the person didn't mean any harm.

Do you write smut?

I did write a couple of scenes in my teens for one fic, just emulating what I had read. The feedback was good.

I think I've mentioned this on here before, but I actually tried to write some as an exercise last year! From a "technical" standpoint, it turned out okay, but from an emotional standpoint, it just made me cringe and roll my eyes a lot. I don't know if it's a grey thing or a me thing, but I just can't buy into it at all. And I'm not interested in writing allo PWP, so unless I decide to write an explicit ace sex scene one day, the answer is no. I don't write smut.

Craziest crossover:

I'm not really a crossover person.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Well, I did enlist my "live-in expert" as a consultant on ÅFeb16 (to help me get child August's POV right and sign off on Carl Johan's characterisation and all the bad stuff bubbling under). I really enjoyed the collaboration - but I don't think actually co-writing a text with anyone would be a good fit for my process. I wouldn't even want a regular beta reader because it would only stress me out.

All-time favourite ship?

To write? I don't have an all-time favourite, but since I started up again, I would obviously have to say ace Henry/allo Walter.

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I've got two WIPs at the moment. One is an unfinished and unpublished S3-compliant Walty fic, and the other is The real deal. At present, I'm feeling a resurgence of motivation for TRD, so the other fic is shelved for now. I do plan to finish it, though!

What are your writing strengths?

My planning and research game is pretty strong, as are my grammar and language skills. I guess the overall quality of my writing is decent when I'm not too stressed or low on creative energy. Many readers seem to find my writing fairly engaging, and they have said nice things about the dialogue, my characterisations, and the relationships between the characters.

Oh, and I think I'm pretty good at writing kissing scenes.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Perfectionism, self-criticism, "compulsive editing syndrome." When I'm unhappy with a passage, I tend to get stuck in a rewriting loop until I either get it right or spiral into writer's block and severe self-doubt. I also have a tendency to get swept away to the point where I neglect my wellbeing and burn myself out, which affects both my update schedule and the quality of my writing.

If you want more tangible weaknesses, I'm too wordy, my teenagers are unrealistically mature, and I occasionally overuse exposition.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

This is only my personal opinion and others are welcome to disagree! I'm not judging or criticising anyone in any fandom for using dialogue in another language in their own stories!

As a translator, my day job is all about conveying the same message in another language, and I can't just turn that logic off for writing. If the characters all speak one language throughout the text, it doesn't make sense to me personally to render some bits of dialogue in that language and others in English (unless those bits are truly untranslatable).

Not to mention that languages work differently, from word choice and grammar rules to the underlying communicative conventions and even thought patterns. Many people feel that using some sentences in the language that is actually being spoken adds authenticity, and that's a valid opinion! But to me personally, it's the other way around. I feel that the dialogue can only be consistently fluent in one language at a time, and if I'm writing the story in English, my dialogue will be an English rendering of what the characters would be saying in their own language. Similar to a translated book, only without a source text.

Now, if someone in the story is actually speaking another language, that's another matter! Dialogue in that language could be used very effectively in different situations, as in @silvagrey's example of Linda switching to Spanish to talk to Simon and Sara.

Again, this is just my personal opinion that I apply to my own writing! It is not the only valid opinion!

First fandom you wrote in?

If writing in my English notebook in lower secondary school counts, it was Final Fantasy X. The first fic I ever posted online was in an obscure anime/manga fandom in high school (and yes, I did use Japanese greetings and such back then).

Favourite fic you've written?

Other people's secrets. It's one of the best stories I've written, the one and only reason I'm still writing now, and one of the most meaningful things I've done for myself and my own ace identity (and apparently for some others too, which absolutely blows my mind). Furthermore, it was my first fic in over a decade and the biggest creative project I'd ever undertaken, so even just finishing it in a way I could be proud of was a huge accomplishment.

.

Thanks again for the tag, I had a great time answering these! 💜

No pressure tags: I honestly don't think I know any writers whom I haven't seen tagged yet (not ones who usually blog about their writing anyway)! So I'm just going to say if anyone reads this far and wants to play along, please tag me in your post. Or if you want to be tagged first, just let me know!

[lixiesfreckless]

Punch It | l. m.

➸ synopsis: there’s an unexpected opening for the leader position of Changbin’s street racing gang club. Naturally, Minho steps up, ready to fill in the role.

He didn’t expect anyone to challenge him, though.

➸ starring: lee minho x female reader(ft. idols from jypnation)

➸ word count: 5.1k

➸ general content: streetracer!minho, actual street racing, the reader and Minho are both too cocky for their own good, rivals to something more, unacknowledged sexual tension

➸ warnings: mild swearing, briefly mentioned alcohol consumption, reckless driving(it is street racing after all)

➸ rating: teen+

➸ author’s note: this is the first fic I posted that made me feel accomplished as a writer. at the time it was the longest thing I had ever written, and I wrote 4k of it in one day; something that was unheard of for me previously. I want this fic here as a reminder as to how far I’ve come as a writer. this was originally posted in 2021, though, so please understand that it is not up to par with my recent works.

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! you don’t need to listen to it while reading(especially if the lyrics will bother you), but dude. the vibes. the speed. we are breaking traffic laws in style.

yes, it’s meant to be listened to in that order. shuffling it will result in Minho cramming you into an air fryer for 20 minutes at 180 degrees.

♫- Sin City

“A shot of hard liquor please, skip the ice,” Changbin told the bartender, pointing towards his favorite brown bottle behind the counter. 

“Woah woah woah- what about our rule?” Hyunjin said, raising an eyebrow while putting a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“Yes I know the rule; I was the one who made it,” Changbin scoffed, swatting Hyunjin’s hand away. You guys may break a lot of rules on the daily, but catching a DUI? That was out of the question. Which is why this particular club was used for group meetups and pit stops only; touch a drop of alcohol and you won’t be getting back behind your steering wheel.

Changbin turned to face everyone, sitting at the curved bar with questioning looks on their faces.

“Which I guess brings me to the reason why I called for us to meet today,” he sighed, watching how the rest of the crew glanced between each other nervously. Everyone had been sort of tense upon arrival, since this was a Thursday night instead of their usual Friday meetups.

“I'm stepping down as leader.”

“WHAT?!” was the collective reaction of all twelve members, some slamming their palms on the counter as they abruptly stood up.

“Okay so you don’t need any liquor, clearly you’re already drunk,” Minho rolled his eyes, swirling the ice around in a glass of water on the bar counter.

“Oh I’m sober,” he sighed, taking his keys and wallet out of his pocket, and you could see the color drain from Minho’s face as he realized that this wasn’t some sick joke.

“But why,” Hyunjin piped up, playing with his driving gloves. “You’re the best leader we’ve had since I joined the gang.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement; out of everyone that was there Hyunjin had been in the gang the longest, he would know better than anyone else.

Changbin was silent for a moment before he opened his wallet, taking out a small shiny Polaroid.

He slid it across the counter so the group could get a good look at it.

At the bottom, the name “Seo Chun Ja” was written hastily in black ink, along with a date that couldn’t have been more than a week ago.

In the photo was a woman that you had known by now to be his wife, but she was holding something in her arms on the hospital bed.

A baby girl.

Donning a knitted pink cap with yellow flowers, the child couldn’t have been bigger than Changbin’s forearm as she rested in her mother’s arms. 

It only took a couple of seconds for everyone to register what was going on.

“You’re…you’re a father?!” You squealed, leaning farther over the counter to see the bundle of joy in his wife’s arms. You weren’t the only one surprised; Changbin preferred to keep his personal life private, and the only indication that most people had that he was even married was from the gold band on his left ring finger. He smiled fondly at the photograph before nodding, and took the photo back into his fingertips.

“How old is she?” Someone chimed from the other end of the group.

“Three days? Or maybe four,” he chuckled, sliding the photo back into his wallet. “I don’t know, I haven’t gotten much sleep since she made her grand entrance into the world.”

“Does she cry a lot?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yeah.”

“Yup, she’s a Seo alright,” Minho chuckled, raising his eyebrows before taking another sip of his water. Changbin yelled in annoyance as Hyunjin high fived the older boy, cackling wildly.

Congrats and thanks were shared across the bar for another minute before everyone slowly fell silent, taking in the gravity of the situation as the bass thrummed through the room.

“So…does this mean you’re not going to race anymore?” You said quietly, looking up at Changbin. He squinted his eyes before taking a deep breath.

“No, I’m not going to stop racing,” he started, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “I just don’t have the time for our weekly meetups, not until little Chun Ja can sleep through the night.” You nodded in understanding; racing while sleep deprived would be taking the fast track to heaven.

“And I mean…not that what we do is entirely life threatening, but the wifey is a bit worried that me barreling down the highway at 100 mph isn’t exactly keeping the family’s best interests at heart,” he chuckled nervously, taking the glass that the bartender slid to him and downing it in one go. “I’ll show up every once in a while though.”

“So who’s gonna be the next leader then?” Minho asked, finally putting his glass down.

Changbin threw the keys he had in his other hand towards the middle of the counter, and everyone’s eyes went wide.

Those were the keys to his favorite car, a sleek black 1993 Toyota MR2.

“Changbin, you drove that car here,” Hyunjin said, crossing his arms and tilting his head. “Who’s going to drive you home?”

“You will,” he grinned, and the tall boy slapped a hand to his forehead and groaned.

“I take back what I said about you being the best leader-”

“Shut it, pretty boy.”

“What do you even want us to do with those?” Yeji piped up, your favorite driving partner by far. Her hair was braided into one long platinum tail down her back, and although she used to race motocross, she picked up street racing because those types of bikes weren’t allowed on city roads.

Changbin cleared his throat.

“Since I’m not going to be racing all that frequently, I would hate to see my baby be locked up in a garage to rust away with my other SUVs, so…” he pushed the keys forward with his finger a bit more, “whoever thinks they’re the best driver, after me of course,” he snickered, and you could hear someone snort behind you. “Stand up and take the keys.”

Hyunjin and Minho stood up, but after glancing at Minho, Hyunjin sat back down, to which Minho chuckled to himself.

What Minho wasn’t expecting however, was for you to stand up too.

He stared at you in mild disbelief before looking away and scoffing.

“You’re kidding right?” He said, raising an eyebrow. You folded your arms, taking a defensive stance.

“I’m standing, aren’t I?”

Hyunjin took a sip of his virgin Shirley Temple and side eyed Yeji, who had the same mischievous look on her face.

“I test drove race cars for four years!”

“So?” Yeji chuckled, keeping her attitude at bay while fixing her gloves. “Y/n’s good. Like really good.”

“But doesn’t experience matter more-”

“Alright alright, calm down,” Changbin said, waving his hands while he grabbed the keys. He then swiftly tossed them to Minho, whose face lit up, then quickly fell after seeing Changbin shake his head.

“You know how we settle things around here, don’t you?”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Automatic ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

The car rolled to a stop in between two streetlights, stopping at an intersection of an alleyway and a back road on the edges of the city. Minho leaned back in his seat, beginning to roll up the sleeves of his white button down shirt as you pulled up a stopwatch on your phone.

“And out of all the tracks we like to race,” he huffed, glancing at you, “why did you pick the track that I hold the fastest time for?”

“Simple,” you said quietly, propping your phone up on a vent clip.

“That way when I beat you, the look on your face will be priceless.”

His jaw dropped at your confidence, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it the slightest bit attractive.

“Everyone’s tried to beat my record, even Changbin-”

“Not me,” you quipped.

“So you’re just gonna claim that you can right off the bat?” He scoffed, pulling the strap tight on his gloves.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“You’re-”

“Are you gonna drive or are we gonna sit here and bicker all night?” You cut him off, leaning towards him in your seat. “Because I can do both, but I’m sure the gang would love to know who won the race and not our argument-”

“Okay okay, sheesh,” he said, readjusting himself in the seat and taking the car out of park.

The rules were simple. One lap around downtown on the usual track, no shortcuts, no shenanigans, and no cheating of any kind, such as distracting the driver. It was late enough as is so there would be no pedestrians or traffic, not that this part of town was particularly busy at any time of day. The track took a little more than a minute if you were an experienced street racer, but for Minho, his time to beat was fifty-six seconds.

“Start the clock whenever you’re ready,” he mumbled, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift. He was mad, you could tell. You found that hot, which you hoped he couldn’t tell.

“Three-”

He trained his eyes on the road.

“Two-”

He revved the engine twice. The little show off.

“One-”

He clicked the car into first gear, and you barely registered yourself pressing the start button and yelling “GO!” before the blaring sound of the engine roaring to life filled your eardrums. 

You were both pressed into the back of your seats as the car zoomed forward, turning the small dots of light in the streets into streaks while the black rocket whizzed by.

A sly grin grew on his face as he upshifted twice, and after a few seconds he was well over the speed limit, not that any police officers lingered around this side of the city.

He knew this road like the back of his hand. Every pothole, every crack, anything that would slow him down he knew just how to avoid it. Even when he approached sharp turns, he knew just when he had to start downshifting, and even that was seamless.

Calculated.

Precise.

Completely and utterly predictable.

Everything he is and everything you aren’t.

He rounded a corner perfectly and kept shifting gears until he was tearing down the now not-so-quiet street at 70 mph, tapping on the clutch as if he was trying to match the beat of a song. At this speed, he was going to beat his previous record out of spite.

Outside of the constant roar of the engine, things were dead silent inside the car. Minho was too busy concentrating on the road to speak, and you were analyzing his every move, not that there was much to analyze. He never made any mistakes.

Which is why when he zoomed by the starting streetlights with a record time of fifty-four seconds, you were anything but surprised.

“What’s my time?” He huffed, relaxing into the seat as his chest heaved.

“Fifty-four seconds.”

A pleased grin made its way onto his face before replacing itself with a smug smirk, Minho tilting his head as he turned the car off.

“I’m the best you’ve ever seen, admit it.”

“No thanks,” you replied, unlocking the door and stepping out of the car. “I’ve looked in a mirror before.”

Your heels clicked around the front of the car as Minho got out, shaking his head while he held the door open. Stopping in front of the open door, you nodded your head to tell him to get to the other side of the car so you two could get this over with, but he just looked down at the seat and back at you, waiting for you to step in. You reluctantly sat down and he closed the door behind you before walking across the front.

So he is a gentleman, you thought to yourself while pulling the Velcro on your gloves.

And a handsome one at that, was a thought that you quickly shooed away, not liking how your eyes admired the way the streetlights hit his face for a split second before he got back in the car.

You both buckled your seat belts and he cleared the timer on your phone, opening a fresh stopwatch log and waiting for you to look at him.

But you didn’t, you only tapped impatiently on the steering wheel with a manicured nail.

After a few seconds of tense silence you spoke up.

“What are you waiting for?” You gave him an annoyed side eye.

“Aren’t you going to tell me when to go?”

“Okay, go.”

“What-”

“Go!”

You switched the car out of park and straight into first gear, making him shriek and start the timer while you snickered. The car barreled down the street, picking up fallen leaves and rattling trash cans with the engine alone.

You reached over to your left side and pressed a button, lowering all of the windows in the car at once, and Minho looked at you in disbelief.

“Do you not care about the drag you’re gonna get from that?” He yelled over the roaring wind.

“Not one bit.” You grinned, fixing the rear view mirror with your right hand.

It was at this point that Minho realized that he had never been in a car while you were behind the wheel, and his hand instinctively held on to an interior handle while you upshifted again. His heartbeat started to pick up as he noticed that you didn’t downshift, in fact whereas he usually would be two gears lower by now, you upshifted again and he held the handle tighter.

“Y/n,” he began calmly, looking at the speedometer, “do you see that turn up ahead?”

“Uh huh,” you yelled, holding the steering wheel with both hands now.

“Are you not going to slow down?!” He suddenly yelled, frightened at the calmness in your voice.

“Why would I do that-”

“To keep us ALIVE?!” He screamed, grabbing onto the middle console. “Because that’s how you handle turns?!”

You quickly looked behind you before pushing yourself far back into the seat, pressing your heeled foot a little bit further onto the acceleration pedal.

“This is how you handle a turn.”

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as you spun the wheel to the left just before you hit the corner, and you and Minho were suddenly pressed into the right sides of your seats, the centrifugal forces taking over the black vehicle. The wind whistled through Minho’s window as the sound of tires skidding along the pavement filled the street, and just as he got a grasp as to what was happening, you spun the wheel the other way, realigning the car with the road ahead before you slammed on the acceleration.

And that’s when it hit him.

You were a drift racer.

And you didn’t slow down at all that entire turn.

You screamed in delight, almost as loud as the engine did as you tore up the street, the car swerving left and right as you drifted around nearly every corner, barely pausing to downshift or brake at all. You kept your mischievous eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel, and your foot on the acceleration the whole time.

Minho, in a panic, glanced at the stop watch after you shredded your way through a hairpin turn.

Thirty-eight seconds.

Oh my god, she’s going to beat me.

The final turn of the course approached quickly, thanks to your apparent resentment to using the brakes, and Minho started to grip the center console again, but instead of drifting around it like you usually did, you held onto the gear shift, pulling it towards you in succession just like he did when he drove. You shot him a wink before you rounded the corner, and his heart raced, but no longer out of fear.

The starting streetlight shot by you and you didn’t even bother to slow down, glancing at the stop watch to see that it read forty-seven seconds before taking the route that led to the highway.

“Where are we going?” He yelled, frantically putting his window back up, and you followed suit.

“Back to the club, silly,” you responded, before upshifting one last time.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Break From Toronto ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

You pulled the life out of the car with a twist of the keys, killing the engine before turning it over in your hands. The once shiny Toyota symbol was now faded to a dull gray, and many of the markings for the lock buttons were missing.

“Why...why didn’t you drift on the last turn?” Minho finally spoke up, looking at you while his chin rested in his palm. “You would have gotten a faster time-”

“I don’t care about records Minho,” you stated, undoing the Velcro on your gloves. “I already knew I was going to beat you, that was just to show off.”

You swiftly unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the car, stepping into the parking lot which was mostly empty by now, and he slowly did the same. He was still mostly in shock, lacking comebacks and sass just because he couldn’t process that he had lost. 

Walking across the front of the car, Minho approached you with a hand outstretched, wanting to keep good sportsmanship despite his colossal defeat. You gladly accepted it, closing your hand around the keys you were twirling and offering it to firmly shake hands with him.

“They’ll have a good leader,” he said, nodding his head slightly.

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you replied, before taking his hand and pressing it to his chest.

The keys to Changbin’s car fell into his hands as he looked between you and them, confused.

“But...you won,” he whispered, turning the key over in his hands.

“Damn right I did,” you chuckled, “but I don’t really want to be the leader, and besides, his car doesn’t have a Bluetooth radio, and I don’t feel like switching it out.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in shock, trying to come up with a response.

“So what do I tell them then?”

“Whatever you want Lee, I don’t care,” you said, stepping closer to him. His breath caught in his throat as you paused, looked him up and down, then straight into his eyes.

“You can tell them I lost, but we both know who the fastest racer in this city really is.”

And with that, you spun on your heels, walking towards your car as Minho stood there, dumbfounded.

“You’re going home?”

“Yeah,” you called back to him, “I’ve had enough excitement for one night.” Your heels clicked away at the pavement and Minho couldn’t help but watch, trying to make sense of the strange whirlwind of emotions in his stomach.

“Oh and uh...a word of advice,” you laughed, turning back to look at him, “you’d be a lot more enjoyable without that pole up your ass.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Early ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

“Sheesh,” Hyunjin swooned, trailing his fingers over the black exterior of the vehicle, assessing its every curve. “This car is sexy.”

Minho sat on a bench on the curb, trying to let the bass from inside the club soothe his mind as he held his head in between his hands. 

“Ugh and it even matches my hair- if I had this car, I’d never bleach my hair again,” he sighed dreamily, adjusting a rear view mirror so he could look at himself. “Imagine showing up to parties in this baby, and-”

Hyunjin paused, narrowing his eyes at his best friend on the bench, who had barely said a word since he walked into the club and declared himself as the new leader. 

“-and why do I get the feeling that I’m more excited about this car than you?” He said, trading his grin out for a concerned pout as he joined Minho on the bench.

“Because...I don’t deserve it,” Minho said slowly, staring at the license plate.

“Are you kidding?” Hyunjin scoffed, looking at the other in disbelief. “You’re the best racer that I know! Of course you deserve it, you wo-”

“She won.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, letting a small nervous chuckle escape his lips.

“What?”

“Seven seconds Hyunjin,” he began, standing up and rubbing his face with his hands. “That’s how much she beat me by.”

Hyunjin’s face went pale.

“That’s...that’s impossible,” the taller boy whispered to himself, and Minho laughed bitterly at that statement, reminding him of what he had thought earlier that night.

“Not for a drift racer, apparently!”

Minho turned around, facing the other who had shock written all over his face.

“Have you seen that woman drive?!” He practically yelled, and Hyunjin stopped to think.

“Come to think of it, no,” he realized, looking up at his friend. “She’s always helping Yeji learn the ropes when we go on our group drives, so they carpool-”

“Well you should watch her drive,” he continued, more hysterical laughter spilling from Minho’s lips, “she’s reckless, and she doesn’t slow down, and she drifts around every corner, and she drives with the goddamn windows down, and in the last hour she’s made me question everything I ever knew about street racing!” He paused to take a deep breath.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“She’s that good?”

“God, she’s incredible,” he confessed, leaning against the side of the car. “And she could have lowered her time too; at the last corner of the race she downshifted almost perfectly, and didn’t drift because ‘that was just to show off.’”

Hyunjin started laughing, for it wasn’t often that he got to see Minho all riled up about something...or someone.

“Never,” Minho spat, “never in my eight years of driving have I ever met anyone with the audacity to-”

“Minho! Minho Minho Minho,” Hyunjin chuckled, getting up off the bench to stand in front of a wide-eyed Minho, placing his hands on his shoulders. 

“Hey,” he gave him a knowing smile, “it’s okay to have a crush-”

“Yah! Does everyone have to be drunk these days?” He yelled, pushing the younger one off of him as he opened the car door to get in. Hyunjin collapsed to the ground, lost in a fit of giggles among the asphalt.

“Call me when you want to talk about your feelings,” he swooned, erupting into laughter again before Minho slammed the door, shaking his head.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Get It, If You Let Me ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

The highway seemed awfully quiet as Minho zoomed along the shoulder, watching the street lights flicker through the car like a broken headlight as he let his mind wander. This night had taken more turns than the Le Mans race track, and he was way overdue for some sleep.

He sighed, looking through the windshield, and as he shifted his vision he noticed something amiss on one of the vents.

You had left your phone.

You must have forgotten to put it back in your bag, and Minho cursed at himself for forgetting to take it out and give it to you.

Then again, he was apparently desperately needing driving lessons, specifically the ones where you learn to drift.

Minho slowed down, coming to a stop at a red light as he pondered his decision. He knew where your house was, and knowing you, you’d still be awake, thanks to the countless times he had muted your endless chatting with Yeji in the group chat. 

He was definitely too arrogant earlier. Would you even be willing to accept an apology or give him a second chance?

The light in the left lane flickered to green, letting an absolute lack of drivers make left turns and U-turns back into town, and Minho’s grip on the steering wheel tightened once again.

To hell with this.

He slammed on the acceleration, crossing the three empty lanes between the shoulder and the left turn lane before making a U-Turn, and nothing had felt more right than when he grinned and shifted the car into second gear.

Only one thing left to do now I guess, he thought to himself.

Punch it.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

“You should have seen the look on his face,” you practically squealed, kicking your legs up off the couch while trying not to spill your glass of wine. “The man was going to pee himself!”

“I know I nearly did the first time I rode with you,” Yeji chuckled, unscrewing the oil cap with a click. “H-Hey, I got it to come off!”

“Good!” You sat up on the couch, suddenly focused. “The oil is coming out black right?”

“Yeah...it’s kinda gross,” she drawled.

“Make sure you empty it all the way-”

Your train of thought was broken by the low rumble of a familiar engine on your street, slowly pulling into your driveway. You squinted your eyes in concentration, trying to identify who was at your house at this hour as Yeji confusedly called your name through the landline.

“Yeji? Are you going to be up for a while?” You said suddenly, holding the receiver up to your face again.

“Yeah...I have a couple more things to fix,” she said, and you heard the sound of a wrench clattering to the floor through the receiver. “Why?”

“I think Minho is at my house.”

“Ooooooooh-”

“Shut up, I’ll be right back,” you laughed, and then swiftly hung up, just in case this took longer than you expected.

You walked up to one of the windows near the driveway, lifting up one of the blinds to see if your suspicions were correct, and they were; Minho got out of his new car, shoving the keys into his pockets before closing the door behind him.

One glance into a mirror and you realized the absurdity of this situation.

You had quickly ridden yourself of the glittery makeup and cute outfit in favor of pajamas as soon as you got home, and here he was walking up to your door, still looking as sharp as he did earlier that night.

Good thing you didn’t care what he thought of you.

Mostly.

A hand through the hair would have to suffice for now.

He stepped up to your door, contemplating whether a knock or doorbell ring would be better, but you quickly erased both options, opening the door as soon as he stood on the welcome mat.

“I knew you’d be back but…” you looked him over and smiled, “...not this soon.”

He only responded with a light chuckle before pulling your phone out of his dark wash jeans.

“I wasn’t planning on being here like this but this was left in my car,” he said, holding it up to his face. “Figured you’d want it.”

You hummed, nodding in thanks and quirking an eyebrow.

“But…?”

“But what?” He laughed nervously.

“But no man in their right mind would drive to some chick’s house just to give her something that could have waited until the next morning,” you tilted your head in amusement and swirled the wine in your glass. “Unless you’ve come to apologize.”

“For?”

“Um, underestimating me?”

“Oh yeah, that,” more nervous laughter fell from his lips. “Sorry about that.”

“And the arrogance.”

“And the arrogance,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Cool. So now that that’s out of the way,” you whispered, putting your glass on a table inside near the door, closing the door behind you and leaning against it, “why are you really here?”

His eyes widened, clearly not prepared for you to have read him so easily.

“I…” his hands fumbled with the edges of his rolled up sleeves as he tried to get his thoughts together. After a few seconds of silence he dropped the act, relinquishing his cool demeanor.

“Back there, when you were driving,” a slow look of astonishment spread across his face, “how did you do that?”

“Do what? Drift?”

“Yeah.”

“You want to be a drift racer?”

“Not necessarily,” he explained, “it's just...we should have flipped over- I don’t get how you did that.”

“All I did was let the weight of the vehicle drive the car instead of me,” you said, nodding towards the hunk of metal on your driveway. “If you’re driving fast enough, turning sharply will make the car drift; the back wheels will try to swing to the front and centrifugal force and whatnot.”

Minho visibly winced.

“To put it simply, it’s about controlling a lack of control.”

“How is that safe?” 

“It’s not,” you laughed, then turned serious. “Not that anything we do is safe.” He just blinked at you, trying to process what he was supposed to do with this information.

“Minho, on average, how much do you lower your record every time you attempt to beat it?”

“Uh,” he squinted his eyes. “I don’t know, like a half second maybe? Why?”

“You do the same thing every time don’t you?”

“Why does that sound like a bad thing coming from you?” He chuckled nervously, shifting on his feet.

“Well then it’s no wonder how I beat your record so easily,” you cackled, “you’ve basically optimized your route; to you, nobody can beat it, because nobody is going to try anything different.”

“Where are you going with this?” He tilted his head, assuming a defensive stance.

“You can’t get better unless you try something new.” You deadpanned, looking him straight in the eyes. “In other words, you can't beat me until you quit being so scared.”

“I’m not scared!” He retorted.

“You basically tried to become Mariah Carey when I drove!”

He opened his mouth to snap back, then for his own safety, decided not to.

“Look, I get it,” you said quietly, “losing control in a car while you spin in a metal box isn’t everyone’s idea of fun-”

“Not when you put it like that-”

“But,” you chuckled, and the sparkle in his eyes returned, “because I know how this is going to keep you up tonight-”

“I’ll sleep just fine, thank you,” he laughed, folding his arms.

“I’ll give you one tip, for free.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Loosen up,” you said, giving him a light shove, and he stumbled backwards slightly. “Otherwise you’ll be stuck at fifty-four seconds.”

He just watched you turn to leave before you added, “I’ll be at the giant abandoned parking lot past downtown tomorrow night with Yeji, in case you want a lesson or something.” And with that you stepped behind your door, flashing him a smile before closing the door.

Minho stood there, blinking hard and trying to regulate the erratic beating of his heart before you opened the door again, giving him a strange look.

You pointed at him and raised an eyebrow, and he looked down to where your finger was pointed.

“Oh, right,” he chuckled, handing you your phone and you laughed, taking the device from him.

“Goodnight Minho,” you whispered before closing the door again, not giving him time to respond.

Your ability to make him speechless was getting out of hand.

Something tells me I’m supposed to get used to this…

“...goodnight.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Punch It

a lixiesfreckles_ production

cast(in order of appearance)

Seo Changbin as the only one with a life

Hwang Hyunjin as the drama

Lee Minho as the obvious choice

Hwang Yeji as the best friend

in memory of my old self. you had no idea what you'd be capable of one day.

do not copy or repost. all rights reserved.

[ursafootprints]

hello hello! from the fic writer asks!

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

I am intending to write a sequel to Pyrite and a threequel for the wicked love Starkercest series! And other than those the one that I think has the most story potential for a sequel is double-blind since I left so many dangling threads, but I'm not planning to write one, haha. We'll see if that changes! (I also was not initially planning a threequel for WL, but then all the sad questions on the askblog wore me down, lmao.)

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

Let's see! I still had this scene from chapter 13 of YNYD hanging around in my planning doc, Peter and Tony discussing how they're going to break the news to the rest of the team now that they aren't actively trying to keep their relationship under wraps:

"Are we going to have to hold a like... Avengers-only press conference?" Peter asked, holding Tony's hand on the couch as a poor substitute for his normal level of full-body clinging. Tony laughed-- which didn't make him wince every time now, and that was an improvement-- and he intoned, "Steve Rogers with Star-Spangled News. Mr. Parker, could you tell us what the hell you see in that guy?" "Great question, Mr. Rogers," Peter said, grinning, "and one that I'm happy to answer in detail and at length--" "Okay, wait," Tony said, waving his hands as if whisk Peter's answer away. Peter laughed, and leaned to press a kiss to Tony's smiling lips, careful not to put any weight on his side. "Anyway. Do you want to? I feel like the cat's halfway out of the bag already, but if you want to do an announcement we can," Tony said, shrugging with the shoulder on his undamaged side. "Our four-month anniversary is coming up; we could make it a whole thing. Send out invitations. A dunk tank is off the table until my stab wounds are all healed up, but we could get Nerf guns for everyone to shoot me with. Vent some frustrations." "Tony," Peter scolded, but only because Tony didn't sound like he was actually stressed about it. He shrugged, too, and said, "I'm kinda... over doing the big talk? I feel like Steve's gonna crack and ask one of us about it any day now, and if he does, we'll just…" He shrugged. It would be awkward, but-- whatever. They could survive awkward.

22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

Mmm kind of? Not in the sense that I fear hate comments or anything (moderated comments 😎), but there have been scenes that I've worried wouldn't land for readers before! YNYD!Peter making the joke in front of the rest of the team about he and Tony having sex in the birthday chapter because of the foot-in-mouth factor, double-blind!Peter's gambit at the end because I thought people might be turned off by his apparent 180 in motivation, I was a little worried that I hadn't done enough to make my Tokyo Babylon fusion canonblind-friendly…

But they aren't huge worries! In terms of getting past it, in general I just am fairly secure in the fact that fanfic is a hobby for me and my foremost goal is entertaining myself and writing the version of the story that I like best, so if something doesn't land then it's still like… well, I liked it! 🤷

Thank you for playing! 💖💖💖

[metalbvcky]

Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!

tagged by @sarahowritesostucky, thank you lovely!! 💖💖 no pressure tagging: @late-to-the-party-81 @sparkagrace @bittersweet-in-boston @otpcutie @apple-writes

🍓 How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I feel like that's asking "how did you join Tumblr" it just happened 😂

🍇How many fandoms have you written in?

One, technically, which is nothing compared to others but I enjoy exploring my ideas with the MCU and its characters. I'm not sure I'd get the same feeling with other fandoms, like say, supernatural.

🍈How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

It'll be four this summer. Again, not long, but considering I denied myself as being a writer for several years? That's progress and growth.

🍎Do you read or write more fanfiction?

It depends on the muse and all sorts of other things. Sometimes I'm punching out oneshot after oneshot, while other times I'll be focused on a longfic and will read in between and stuff. Like currently!

🍌What is one way you've improved as a writer?

Writing more. Reading more. Writing more again. But also letting go of sticking to a strict outline. I'm a planster. I'll plan the major things, but everything else is made up as I go.

🍑Do you have any bad habits as a writer?

I'll often start or continue writing a scene and will find myself stuck, thinking it's the end of the world, and then realize my whole issue is a few lines above what I'm trying to make work. Happens so often you'd like I would be used to it by now.

🍍 What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I don't know about weird, but I've been doing a ton of medical research for my future doctor/patient AU. I've searched around for all sorts of things lol even for a sentence that I'll likely not end up using.

🍉What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Keyboard smashes. Long detailed comments about the plot/relationship/pining/etc. Comments that mention a tiny detail I included, those are the best when people notice them. But also, any comment.

🍐What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Crack fics? I don't think I write a lot of outlandish stuff, at least I wouldn't consider them to be 😂

🥭What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Uhhh... *stares blankly at my open doc* Ones with big plot. I love it, it makes the story even more fun to write, but MAN plot can be tricky. Catch me saying "Did everyone see that? Because I will not be doing it again" like Captain Jack Sparrow when I finish a longfic, and then immediately start planning another one to write.

🍏What is the easiest type?

Short oneshots with hardly any plot. Which isn't often because almost everything I write ends up being longer than I anticipated.

🍑Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Docs. I used to use Smartedit Writer and organize by chapters, but ehhhh I just throw ideas onto a separate doc and go from there. Why plan extensively when my characters will do a 180 on me all the time? And almost always at night, sometimes during the day when time/the muse allows me.

🍋What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I was just thinking about this recently. I have never written a post TWS recovery fic. It's on my 'to write' bucket list, so I hope to tackle a lengthy canon fic one of these days. I love reading canon fics where they're on missions and the plot is centered around HYDRA or some other big bad, I feel like those are trickier to write than AUs. But everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, and I know coming up with detailed worlds/world building isn't a walk in the park for some.

🍇 what made you choose your username?

I didn't know what to name my Marvel sideblog when I was making it so... I just decided Bucky + metal arm + aw crap that name is taken = Metalbvcky 🤣

[mandalhoerian]

I have an urge to talk in Turkish here but I gotta keep it to myself now haha. Your page gives me a sense of comfort with the fact that you're Turkish.

What I was trying to say, that if you feel like no one's is interested in our girl Vera etc or the content/posts you want to make for her here apart from the fic writing, don't think like that because it is your page and your followers follows you for a reason.

But most importantly, what I was trying to say, that Vera gives me so much comfort as a Turkish woman myself like her ( my hair is also wavy like her how her hair gets after rain haha ). I love your Vera content. I just wanted to say that. She is also giving me inspiration for my own oc making. Back in the time I was so hesitant with the thought of making Turkish ocs, but with her and you of course, I started to beat that voice.

i'm answering this a bit late so my apologies! I wanted to say a lot but ramadan has me lazing around not wanting to do anything, so I procrastinated 😭

i know the as bayrakları as as as 🇹🇷🇹🇷🇹🇷 feeling like the last thing I expected to find here was another Turkish RE creator like. It's such a bizarre kinship and comfort, I know how you feel! I'm happy I was able to give it back.

Our girl Vera has me GRINNING, but not to change the subject too much, I know,,, it's a feeling that comes and goes. I used to barely get any interaction regarding her prior to the release of RE4R and when im deep into the hyperfixation i don't care much for feedback, I just create. Like. I guess multiple chapters beyond the 10K threshold are proof of that, looking back i had to be insane to be in it that deep. i remember being like "OMG 180 HITS BETWEEN CHAPTERS THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!" on ao3! 😭 the lack of interest gets to a writer, eventually, i guess, you just want the readers to show they're enjoying to work or not in some way. But the reminder that (some of, at least) my followers follow me for Vera is extremely consoling, thank you so much!

I'm so happy that you like Vera! It's very humbling to hear she as a Turkish woman is resonating with you, I never thought about having any Turkish readers at all when I was working on her... I always thought if I had, would it be cringy or not.

Because us as people really have an inferiority complex and are too self-conscious regarding these things, I remember how literally all of my Turkish writer friends (every single one of them) thought a Turkish main character would be EMBARRASSING in any fandom we would write for. We hated it, and everybody and their other writer friends also did. The idea of a Turkish character was cringy. But when other foreign writers would write Turkish OCs suddenly it was so cool and "AS BAYRAKLARI" .

I had a couple Filipino friends on wattpad who would write Filipino OCs and be so proud of their heritage and how they were incorporating it into the story, like, for example, I had a friend who re-designed and rebranded the planet Alderaan from Star Wars using their culture because the actress who played the queen was Filipino and she was so happy about it. It was so fascinating to me how she genuinely did something so creative and made it work so well. Another Filipino friend did this for Stranger Things, and in the heart of her story was immigrant struggles.

I never really questioned why Turkish people couldn't be like this until I was working on Vera, and her being Turkish started out as a joke. I wanted to immediately scrap it, thinking "no lmao what the fuck of course not" .

If another person did this, I would eat !! it !! up!!

But when I seriously wanted to make her Turkish it was suddenly embarrassing. It was a hard thing to get over. English fanfic reading really wires our brains to accept characters only of foreign nationalities and ethnicities because "it fits the story better" -- we only consume western media and hold it in higher regard.

I understand you so well, and I'm so glad I'm somehow encouraging you on this matter. Because why are we so embarrassed of ourselves?

Thank you for this ask, it really meant a lot to hear all of this! and I'm sorry I really went off on a tangent 😭

[drelizabethgreene]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @galwithalibrarycard. So here we go!

20 Questions for Fic Writers

How many works do you have on AO3? 184 (lots and lots of oneshots)

What’s your total word count on AO3? 685,746

What fandoms do you write for? ER, Law and Order SVU, and The Resident are my main fandoms! But I've also written for New Amsterdam, Glee, 9-1-1, and The Princess Diaries movies.

Top five fics by kudos? It's Always Better When We're Together, What Are You Doing New Year's Eve, These Things Between Us, The Only One I Run To, A Sweet Surprise

Do you respond to comments? Yes, I try my best to respond to all comments I get. If I’ve ever forgotten to answer anyone, I apologize. I love comments and answering them!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I love happy endings mostly, but I would probably say While I Was Watching, You Did a Slow Dissolve because of the uncertainty Olivia still ends up facing with how to get over hers and Elliot's almost kiss.

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? There's a lot of them after 180+ fics, but I would definitely say the end of It's Always Better When We're Together since Olivia is with Elliot romantically and realizes she wouldn't want her life any other way. Or the ending of I Promise You I Will Learn From My Mistakes when Coburn reconciles with her daughter once and for all and they commit to a new beginning as a family.

Do you get hate on fics? It's very rare, but someone once bookmarked It's Always Better When We're Together and left a rude comment, and someone trolled one of my other EO fics. If you're going to leave a rude bookmark comment, at least do it privately. I was worried about writing a couple of ER fics where I wrote Abby as childfree, but nothing came of that.

Do you write smut? I do not.

Craziest crossover? I don't really write crossovers, and the ones I did write were just kind of tame, like characters in one universe bonding with characters in another over common life stories. (Check out Common Threads or It Feels Normal if you're curious.)

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Thankfully no!

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I have had some commenters leave me comments in other languages that I put through Google Translate, and that's always a nice treat.

Have you ever co-written a fic? Yes, only once.

All-time favorite ship? Mark/Elizabeth from ER. My first OTP and I still hold them close!

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have so many ideas that I have gone through and abandoned, mostly oneshots. But I do keep meaning to write the last chapter of A Very Sharpwin Christmas and just never get around to it.

What are your writing strengths? Writing emotional conversations, writing family relationships

What are your writing weaknesses? Feeling insecure about my stats, not thinking the plot through, getting too caught up in details sometimes

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? No comment.

First fandom you wrote in? ER! I wrote ER fic when I was 16 or 17 and my first fic on AO3 was also in this fandom.

Fave fics you’ve written? Listing a few from each fandom I write for: Even on My Weakest Days, which was my first 100K fic. Watch and Wait, Take a Heart and Take a Hand, My Hands are Cold, My Body's Numb, Stepping Up to the Plate, We Woke Up and Now We're This, I Will Help You Through, Taking Back My Life, Every Hour Has Come to This

Next up: @ineffablecabbage @bad-at-names-and-faces @bamboo72498

[daily-rayless]

Fic-writer questions!

I stole this from @runicmagitek so thank you! I'm not going to tag anyone specifically, but I know I have a number of talented fic-writing mutuals, so take a stab at this if you want to.

I'm going to include original fiction in a few places, as well as all my fics currently posted to FFN, just so we have more data to work with.

How many works do you have on AO3?

FFN: 52

AO3: 10

What's your total AO3 word count?

FFN (assuming their word counter is still functional, which is perhaps foolish of me): 601436

AO3: 517070

What fandoms do you write for? Tales of the Abyss, Transistor, and Fate most recently. In the past, Persona, Suikoden, Harry Potter, Soul Nomad, Makai Kingdom, Yggdra Union, Wild Arms, and some assorted others.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? (Including FFN's faves):

363 – Birds (Harry Potter)

333 – Death and Ker (Persona 3)

182 – Elysion (Persona 3 & 4)

180 – Word on the Inside (Persona 4)

122 – Crime and Creme Brulee (Persona 4)

All on FFN! These are all very old fics, and I think I'll need a good long while before I get numbers like that on AO3.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Generally, yes. I like to let the reader know I'm aware of them and appreciate them leaving their thoughts, because readers who do want to comment are a minority. As for situations where I wouldn't, I'd probably ignore a flame. Or if a person leaves a bunch of comments at once, I might not respond to each individually. Or if someone left something without much context, like “huh” or “wow”, I might have no idea how to respond and just leave it.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hm, it could depend. Anyone who's reading Scarlet has probably already played Yggdra Union and knows we're going to end with our fourteen-year-old heroine falling in battle while desperately defending her kingdom. “Misbegotten” focuses on the Demon Path of Soul Nomad, so, again, you'd go into that with a certain expectation of angst. So I think my ending that combines the most angst with surprise is the ending of “Cycles”, a Normal Path Soul Nomad fic where I decided to explore the game's concept of reincarnation. So someone dies at the end, very abruptly and somewhat graphically. The fact that I let Gig and Revya be married in it adds to the angst. Looking back more than ten years, yeah, it's very angsty, but I got some good feedback for it, so I don't regret it.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? On the subject of happy endings, I've been accused of not liking them. I love happy endings! But I do live in some dread of things feeling too pat and “wrapped up with a bow”. A lot of my oneshots are fairly low stakes, so the endings are happy enough, but looking at my longer stuff... Soul Searching ends with Gig and Revya getting married, the world being at peace, everything on a pretty happy note. (Unless you count the tragedy of Danette eating all of Gig's and Revya's hotpods, and, honestly, you should.)

Do you get hate on fics? I've never gotten seriously flamed so far. In the early 2010s, there was this one anon going through Persona fics and leaving very short flames on MinakoxShinjiro stuff, barely changing their wording at all. It was extremely low effort, impersonal, and I don't really count it.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? No, I wouldn't say so. When it comes to sex, I tend to focus more on a few individual details than a moment-to-moment description, and then the reader can fill in what they're comfortable with. With my latest original project (not Eola), I did get the threshold moment of my mom reading the draft and saying, “You write sex really well!”

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Okay, so when I was much younger, in the early 2000s, I had this long-running thing I wrote that I ended up calling “Kuja's Coffee-Bean Cafe”. Basically, it was a crossover of every video game I'd played at the time, where Kuja from Final Fantasy 9 ran a restaurant where all the various villains gather and have their own hierarchy and petty infighting and shenanigans. Some good guys are allowed to visit, and some of them have been captured for the villains' amusement, and all of it was played for humor. Trust me when I tell you that it was very funny to me at the time and it does not hold up. (Though it did make me speculatively ship Sephiroth and Celes, and I still think that ship has merit...) Since then, I do still sometimes write crossovers, but they're for my own amusement.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Last year (I think?) there was a post going around about how a lesser-known fan archive was grabbing stuff from FFN and AO3...but I honestly don't remember whether any of my fics were affected.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, not that I know of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? My best friend and I came up with a Lion King sequel which I then wrote down. Some years later, me and the same friend wrote two original novellas together. For the first one, one of us would write a paragraph or two, and then the other would take over, and it built from there. For the second one (which we never finished), we each controlled a main character, so we would switch off for dialogue and individual actions, but otherwise we shared the rest of the story. It worked pretty well, and if you have a writing buddy whose style works with yours, I highly recommend it.

What's your all-time favorite ship? I'm not sure I have a mathematically favorite ship versus whatever ship I'm currently most focused on. In 2019, it was Red and Boxer from Transistor. Last year, it was Asch and Natalia from Tales of the Abyss. Right now, I've been swinging back towards Archer and Hakuno from Fate.

What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I've always been sad I never finished Public Speaking, my Suikoden V longfic about super minor npc Salisha Raulbel and what she thought of the war. It was very niche, but readers still found it and enjoyed it. I hung with it for two years, between 2006-08, but a lot was happening in my life, I was changing as a person, I was getting into new fandoms, and I couldn't maintain my interest; I also abandoned another long Suikoden fic and an original novel during that period. What's even worse was that the fic was over halfway done, and for a couple years afterwards, I would get comments asking for an update. I think that's part of why I now never start posting fics until I've completed at least one draft. Do I think I'll pull one of those 10+ Years Later updates? Probably not. But it was a good fic, and I'm sorry I left people hanging.

What are your writing strengths? I'm told my dialogue and descriptions are good. People also seem to respond well to my emotional scenes. And of course on my next book I'm going to put this right on the cover:

“She writes sex well!” – Her Mom

What are your writing weaknesses? Having just praised my dialogue, I'll admit I have a problem with slowing down dialogue to add too much physical communication – compressed lips, narrowed eyes, raised eyebrows. I know it can start to feel ridiculous, but I want you all to see the scene I'm seeing and I can't very well hire actors. I also feel like my fight scenes aren't the greatest; I find them a pain to write. Probably a byproduct of not running around the wilderness with a sword myself. I also, no matter how hard I try, fall prey to typos. I'm pretty good at editing other people's work, but my own writing is a whole 'nother animal.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I think it's a case by case thing. In general though, it can be overdone, especially if the author is, say, writing a character who's speaking in Spanish, but they keep having the character saying “I'm going to do my tarea” or “I need to go to la escuela!” when just saying “homework” and “school” flows so much more naturally. On the other hand, language is culture and character and history – using some of it can be very helpful in establishing setting and even time period. It also changes depending on how tightly we're in a character's pov. If we're right in the protagonist's head, and my hero doesn't speak French, and they overhear a spy saying, “J'ai volé le lapin sacré!" the meaning should remain a mystery. I shouldn't have the translation provided in a footnote or a parenthetical. On the other hand, if the pov is more pulled back and omniscient, then the author can translate it while reminding the reader the hero didn't understand it.

Overall, when it comes to using other languages, I think you need to keep the reader's needs in mind. If you want to throw out foreign phrases for a bit of flair, go for it, but limit it to phrases that aren't crucial to understanding the scene or story. Otherwise, you need to find a way to elegantly explain what's being said, without making it feel like a footnote. Something like that just breaks the immersive feeling of reading.

First fandom you wrote for? Probably that Lion King story. It was called The Lion King IV: The Revenge of Scar. There was a) no Lion King III and b) no Scar. I called it that because it took place three generations after the original (because that's how titles work), and Scar apparently had such a long con going he'd foreseen the actions of future evil lion villains who'd never even met him.

Favorite fic you've ever written? I'm going to repeat what I said on this post – The Beast in the Dark, the third installment of my unposted Fate trilogy. All three fics were written with the intention that I wouldn't be sharing them. That's also true of the Muse Trilogy and all my recent Tales of the Abyss stuff, but the Fate stuff was at a somewhat sadder, lonelier period in my life. I think that's one reason it's so special to me. Also, like I say in the linked post, because I wasn't going to share it, I allowed myself to throw all sorts of over the top tropes at it. I think it really helped me along in my writing, and, arguably, opening it up for public consumption might mess with how I feel about it. We'll see. I'm still not sure about posting it.

When it comes to fics I have posted though, I'll refer back to the same post and say Death and Ker. It was a fic that was really exciting both to write and post, right as Persona 3: Portable was coming out. I feel a lot of nostalgia for it, and while it's not perfect, I think parts of it still hold up.

[cheesus-doodles]

So do you know about a soulmate au where you will get body switch the said soulmate for however long the writers want them to?

I just wondering if, the reader is Izana’s soulmate, what would he do when he is the reader’s body? not really a request, per se, more like a question or food for your creative thoughts-Winky Wink

i swear i am working on your prize fic winky wink... and my rewrite of clean hands, and my other prize fic, and my... but im so tired these few days, and the inspiration to answer this hit me like a train

‎

Masterlist

tw: afab reader, mentions of nakedness, groping‎

‎‎

Can't say I'm too familiar with what this AU is, but for this instance, maybe we can say that one's soulmates aren't known directly at birth, and the soulmates only get a matching mark on their wrists or a random part of their body starting from the age of 12 with no prior warning or indication, though the most common age for the soulmate mark would be about 16. The mark appearing also indicates when the first body switch occurs, which can last anywhere between 24 and 36 hours, though it is still unknown what causes the difference in time.

Blinking and finding yourself in a different body is definitely very jarring - you were mid step along a busy shopping street, only to suddenly find yourself mid-punch somewhere shadowy, with unconscious bodies littering the floor around you. You don't even have the time to stop your fist from sending whoever that poor soul flying, barely realising that the crack of bone you swore you heard didn't hurt your hand before you were scrambling to apologise, asking if the poor boy was hurt and what you could do to help, much to Kakucho's confusion. Izana's right hand man would just watch as Izana seemingly had a 180 change of heart, looking like he was almost on the brink of tears as he helped to prop out the opposing gang members he had just been all but torturing, all the while reaching for a pocket that didn't exist.

On the other side of town, Izana definitely is quick to realize what had just happened when he was dropped in the midst of a very familiar shopping street, having been eagerly anticipating and planning for this very moment for years. The world has finally given him his soulmate, and it was time for this boy to decide if you lived up to the exalting standards of a king. Makes for the nearest department store, randomly grabs a couple of clothes of the rack and heads to the changing room, where he can completely strip down to take a good look at your/his new soulmate's body in the mirror. Also takes the opportunity to feel your body up - wandering hands cupping and groping your breasts before moving down to give your butt a squeeze. Wonders to himself if they would grow any bigger, but that didn't mean he doesn't already like the feel and look of them.

Honestly, this baby boy couldn't even care more what you looked like - he's just secretly happy that he finally has someone to call his own, someone that wouldn't leave him all alone and that would take care of him. Double checks that you indeed have the same mark as him, which he amusedly notes that is in the same location as his: on the inside of your thigh, a very soft, comfy thigh that was the complete opposite of his own hard, muscular one. Can't wait for the chance to lie in your lap, must really feel like god's own pillow, he muses, as he puts all your clothes back on, returning the testing clothes and exiting the store.

About now is also when Kakucho finally realizes what happened, and that the Izana he is seeing was actually a body-switched soulmate. To which the boy's response is to quickly grab you and manhandle you home before you could call an ambulance for your battered victims (and the police to turn yourself in), where he can gently break the news to you as to what happened and who your soulmate is. But despite Izana 100% knowing that is precisely what Kakucho was going to do, which is to bring you back to their shared apartment to calm down and relax, nope, that isn’t where this boy was heading. He is going to make use of his 24 hours well - so his first stop would be a tattoo parlour, to of course get a tattoo of his own name somewhere more prominent on your body, since your soulmark was so inconveniently located and he definitely didn't want you showing that off. Would be back to get a tattoo of your name on his skin when he’s back in his own body, but that was a matter he could settle later.

Once that was settled, with now a cotton gauze covering the new wound and strict instructions on how to care for the tattoo, Izana thinks about taking the opportunity to let himself into your house to explore where you lived, though this train of thought was quickly removed when he followed the address on the back of your IC to your house only to find Toman, of all people, seemingly waiting for you outside your house. Not wanting to be outed so quickly, Izana instead decides to start his very slow way back home, stopping by a cafe for a few hours for his favourite drink, taking the time to dream about what kind of person you were. His dreams were kind of dashed now that you had that association with scum like Toman, but he still hoped that you were that kind, gentle soul that he had been wishing for since he was a kid, with a heart as soft as your thighs.

Very, very strange to walk into his own house to see Kakucho desperately trying to comfort you in Izana's body, with you nursing a steaming mug of what looked like tea.

You were pretty horrified to find out that your soulmate is a gang leader to be honest - not because of the gang life or the violence, since you are more than used to having to nurse your own bruised Toman boys back to health. More so precisely because you weren't sure how to break the news to your Toman friends that your soulmate ran an opposing gang (the horror and devastation that would follow). Seeing your body walk through the door is somehow a relief - at least your souldmate wasn't reckless enough to get you or him killed - and at the moment all you really, really wanted was a hug. And you did, placing your mug gently onto the table, bundling the other into your arms, and wrapping your arms tight around, well, yourself.

The comfort of having your hug returned is enough to finally put your worries at ease, and the exhaustion of the thrill of the past few hours finally caught up to you. You barely reacted when your soulmate in your body - Izana, your mind reminded you - led you down a short corridor into a room with a bed, you instantly collapsing onto the comfy sheets and falling asleep, Izana tucking you neatly under his sheet before cuddling up to you and wrapping his body's arms around yours.

All the while unbeknownst to the two of you, as the minutes ticked by, your Toman friends are working themselves more and more into a panicked frenzy, with you failing to turn up after school to meet them outside your house as you promised. Convinced that they had really made a mistake this time by not insisting to pick you up from outside your school, and that you were probably dead in a ditch somewhere, the prospects of Tokyo City still left standing at the end of the day is growing slimmer and slimmer as Kazutora is the first to break rank, cursing and swearing under his breath as he runs off to start his own search, quickly followed by the rest of the Toman founders.

Can you imagine how hilarious this would be if this occured in the Red Dragonflies AU though? Might actually turn this into a full short story hmmmm I like it.

[heartofholland]

tom recs <3

hi guys! here is a fic rec list i made of all the fics i’ve loved. personally, i consider myself an avid fic reader so i have read a shit ton of fics. these are just my highlights. let me know if you want more like this! and if you do end up reading any of these please make sure you REBLOG them to spread the goodness. these writers work their ass off and deserve all the credit in the world. enjoy! <3

SERIES

riding my by @worldoftom this fic is barely started but i love everything this writer puts out. very smutty, very hot. innocence kink check!

breaking curfew by @wazzupmrstark ASSHOLE TOM! my weakness. enemies to lovers but make it FWB. what I wish my summer camp was like instead of my thighs sticking to chairs and lice outbreaks.

eighteen by @angelic-holland corruption/innocence kink! basically all smut but damn do i want bad boy tom.

the situationship by @fairytelling can’t say enough about this fic. the definition of falling in love with your best friend. if my relationship isn’t like this i don’t want it.

happiness is a butterfly by @blissfulparker soft mob!tom and they’re forbidden soulmates! updates are WELL worth the wait!

i only feel you by @stuckonspidey the first time i read my watch thought i was working out for how high my heart rate was. shit keeps you on your toes. there is a sequel fic but just a heads up you will want to unstan tom on multiple occasions.

make me love you by @mrs-hollandstan frat boy player tom turned soft. mans does a whole 180. fuck dom.

perfidy by @peeterparkr couldn’t be more obsessed with this fic. they’re both so fucking stupid but too afraid to get hurt. also the social media posts are so fucking cute and crucial to the story 

eloped by @worldoftom getting married to tom in the most beautiful vacation spot? sign me the fuck up

you. by @txmhoelland i think there’s definely worse men to be set up with as a PR stunt.

erotas by @farfromparker i have definely read this fic for more days than i’ve been on this earth but every time i lose my goddamn mind

dare you to move by @starksparker-archive the best version of FWB tom is when you’re his roommate…

gone by @dahliaspidey this one… hurts. but i just know it will bounce back.

take me out by @angelic-holland warning this one is really dark. like serial killers. but it was so fascinating i am completely obsessed with the psychology of it all. jake is featured and please don’t imagine the mr. music the entire time like i did </3

single all the way by @heyhihellowhatsup0 i read this whenever i need a lil christmas pick me up

sweetener by @keepingupwiththeparkers cute awkward relationship. it is so real i feel like it could actually happen to me.

ex on the beach by @heyhihellowhatsup0 THE ANGST GIVES ME LIFE

SMUT

bartender by @t-o-m-holland tom happens to own your favorite bar. your subtle flirts aren’t working. the banter between reader and the fam makes me wish i didn't have social anxiety.

siren by @rosyparkers don’t get me wrong i will scream ACAB til the day i die but police officer tom could definitely get it.

best of three by @mrs-hollandstan one of the 3000 threesome fics i have saved. imagine not getting one of the hottest men but TWO.

roommates by @hollandbaby what a coincidence we both want to fuck each other! this checks all the kinks my man. i’ve read this probably no less than 100 times.  

that was that by @moorehollandplz dom!tom but something flips and he’s never been more gentle. mans got both sides of the playing field covered.

know your enemy by @angelic-holland short but sweet. hate sex is always hotter behind the scenes.

wasabi by @angelic-holland literally everything about alice is phenomenal but this is on of my faves. when i read this it makes me feel smarter. also body shots.

say good night by @madmadmilk this writers work never fails to blow me away but this time she managed to encapsulate my entire life. (minus the execution with a very hot and experienced best friend).

buwygf-ib by @hholyholland just ignore tomdaya for a sec and take in the hottest dom!tom i’ve ever witnessed.

cocky by @sykoxartist yeah he’s an asshole but he’s your asshole. at least that’s what he thinks.

sovereign by @farfromparker sub!tom is so hot. man will beg for DAYS.

summer vacation by @kidney9-9  when is hate sex ever like…. not hot as fuck?

ride by @tomhollandsstan face riding. period.

coincidence by @starshinebucky actor!reader and tom fuck… at least they’ll have good chemistry next time.

skin by @hollandbaby dom!tom is not ok with being a sub. unless it’s for you.

you can bet on it by @kiwi-bitchez all of this writers smut makes my pussy throb. this is my fave. just wait for the twist.

a rose blooms by @cornacopicimagines prince!tom drives me wild. but wait til he finds out you’re not a virgin.

begging by @raewritesfiction tom makes you beg for it.

self reflection by @stuckonspidey this is actual proof tom has a praise kink.

minor inconvenience by @angel-spidey toms an idiot but at least he can get you off.

flesh by @starshinebucky cocky tom kills me.

keeping him nice and warm by @marvelouspeterparker mob!tom the gif itself to sends me.

after hours by @cornacopicimagines never had sexual tension with a teacher but this will do.

ANGST

josslyn by @multiharlot messy situation but reader handles it like a champ. if your heart isn’t broken enough, the last line will make sure it’s unfixable for days on end.  

moral of the story by @kelieah listen to the song while you’re at it to make your cry sesh take a turn for the worst. 

cherry by @xoluvx this one hurts real bad. so does the song. 

a complicated love story by @samhollandssweaters an emotional rollercoaster for real.

he dies in the end by @allfandomxreader ignore the title and just cry your eyes out with me.

eighteen by @fancyxholland you’ll be confused why it’s in the angst category but trust me.

all the lies by @peteywillproceed getting cheated on but the girl is toms gf, how do you tell him. 

memories by @nycparkers i sob to this whenever i need a good cry. 

don’t be a fool by @nycparkers breakups that dont end messily make me so fucking jealous.

FLUFF

kiss currency by @madmadmilk borderline smut. confused and oblivious harrison. dialogue inspires me to talk to males.  

plank all over me by @waitimcomingtoo FILRTY TOM! THE BANTER! i really am a whore for well written dialogue. there’s additional parts but i won’t spoil.

 playing cupid by @marvelobsessedteenager you set everyone else up but wait a damn minute how did you forget about tom?

 little flirt by @webslinger-holland oh to flirt with tom while he’s sweaty from intensely dancing for the lip sync battle.

pour it out by @rhapsodyparker i don’t know what it is but famous!reader going on talk shows or having interviews and they ask the reader cheeky questions about tom might be one of my many kinks…

hubby by @t-holland2080 it’s the small things that make me want to bawl my eyes out for being so lonely.

going live by @redrebecca the dialogue makes me cry of happiness! tom doing a live (what a concept).

paddy’s crush by @tom-holland-is-spiderman jealous tom but of his younger brother.

 wannabe by @sailingintothenight the cliffhanger at the end demands a second part.

flawless by @missnxthingg  tom is a simp.

you and me by @sunshinehollandd best friend tom makes me soft.

dick appointments. web shooters. the duality of a man. by @porterporker  it gets a lil steamy but man is “web shooter” a funny name for a dick.

best day by @thollandss dad!tom gives me baby fever even though i am a virg.

 tom asks your dad by @blissfulparker can i just skip through the bad boyfriends and just marry the love of my life already.

baked chicken by @waitimcomingtoo there isn’t a category for awkward but if there was this would be in it.

lover boy by @starshinebucky  tom being so oblivious you like him that you need to call for backup.

afterglow by @wickedholland i wish someone would treat me like this when im drunk instead of leaving me to hold my own hair back.

[dorimena]

That ask you got about Shoto being soft : an Absolute meal.

Please, could you please write what happens after ? Like, it’s not going to be the first time he watches his reflection with a pout in the mirror. He’s always been lean thanks to training and also his dad overly controlling his diet in the past. So, now that his body is soft?

When you fuck him, his thighs jiggle a bit. His butt bounces if you spank him. It always did, but now even more so. When you have him tied to a chair,naked, his tummy is adorable, the little fold in it is biteable and for some reason, it becomes even more sensitive.

The softness of his body somehow accentuates how more sensitive he is now.

But, he always needs the reassurance that you still think he’s pretty. That’s he’s still your beautiful boy.. Maybe he even asks you if you mind ? Maybe after he recovers and he asks you if you want him back as he used to be. ( because he actually liked how your fingers sank more in him now , the way you praised a little more to ease his worries and the self conscious way he held himself sometimes. But , he would go train more, ask his mum to stop being pastries, if that is what you wanted. He’d do anything for you and to make sure you still want him)

+ (imagine him crying a little when praised)

Of course I could! (✯◡✯)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Todoroki Shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.8k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; Soft!Todoroki, fluff, a sex scene, insecurities, implied praise (sexual and non-sexual), bondage (in the sex scene), proclamation of love (kinda), reassurance, cuddles, cursing, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; aged-up character, Todoroki is 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I hope you like it! I kind of kept coming in and out of some weird writer’s block, so the ending might seem a bit rushed. This isn’t proofread yet!

Also! Shoutout to @buckybabyboyzzz for unintentionally helping me with this, because some ideas in this fic come from our conversation about soft!shoto, and by our conversation I mean me receiving their ideas about soft!shoto ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ

𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊, 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊 (𝖘𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊)

You knew fucking him and kissing him everywhere wouldn’t be enough for him to feel secure. It’s illogical to think he wouldn’t go back to the mirror and stare at himself again, with that mean, insecure gaze set on his tummy, on his hips, on his thighs.

You know he’s struggling to accept his new body, and it’s showing with how he’s suddenly becoming more conscious of his cravings, of the servings (which are one of the few things that haven’t changed), of the food being placed on the table (again, another of the few things that haven’t changed.)

He asked you, in such a small, low tone, about what you think made him put on weight. And you couldn’t even lie, not when he’s staring at you with so much trust, awaiting your honesty, knowing you’re not going to be mean or rude about it.

And with such a smooth voice, you tell him that maybe the amount of times he’s snacking and lack of permission to be able to burn off the calories would have contributed. 

And you waited for him to react, to maybe cry, to get angry with himself, to maybe go back to the mirror to check and agree that you’re right.

Instead, he nods and snuggles closer next to you, hugging you close to him as you both continue to watch another one of Midoriya’s movie recommendations, considering how behind Shoto apparently still is with the whole movie culture situation. He just found out where the ‘I am your father’ reference comes from and he’s never felt so happy.

Okay that’s a lie, you fucking him more times after the first has made him feel so much joy and makes him feel so desired and needed.

But, it’s not enough to ease his insecurities and new thoughts away.

You come back from work one day, concerned over how quiet the house is.

The TV isn’t on.

The radio isn’t either.

You don’t even hear the shower.

You thought maybe he’s napping, because poor baby’s still catching up with sleep, but he’s nowhere.

You don’t really panic, but you’re worried.

Maybe he went to the office for something? But he usually texts you when he’s on his way.

Maybe the doctor called for a checkup? But the appointment isn’t until next week.

You can’t really come up for another reason why he wouldn’t be home, but you decide to simply text him to come home soon and safely, telling him you brought some take-away pasta.

About an hour later he returns, all sweaty yet glowing with joy.

Curious, you ask him about the sudden change in personality, as he was gloomy since a few days ago.

He tells you how he called the doctor and asked if it’s possible he could go on long walks and possible morning or evening jogs, to which the doctor gave him the thumbs up and off Shoto went to do some errands, even paying a visit to Midoriya’s house.

He went to take a shower, not before handing you a bag of what appears to be some new workout clothes.

But, his clothes still fit and look fine on him?

Shoto wouldn’t agree, doesn’t, not with how tight his sweatpants feel around his thighs, how you can easily tell where he’s put on weight when even trying to cover up with a hoodie.

And seeing the new clothes in the bag made you upset, if not a bit angry. 

You’re trying your best to understand, but he does one thing and then the next does a complete 180°.

And that night when you’re both just kissing each other, you trying to suck up any moan or whine he makes, the moment you begin palming his dick he pulls away. Staring at you with a weird look in his eyes before turning around, mumbling a goodnight.

No, impossible. You’re not going to allow this!

So the next day when he comes home from another job, you call him from the bedroom, seductively lying on the bed as you play with the ropes.

With enough persuasion, seduction and sweet promises, you manage to tie Shoto to a kitchen chair that you brought into the room before he arrived.

And you’re on your knees, your hands slowly massaging up and down on his thighs while you kiss his stomach, nuzzling the skin before leaving some pretty hickies. 

Shoto’s shaking, eyes filling with tears but not because of pain or pleasure. He’s not sure why he suddenly feels so emotional, but his sniffling catches your attention.

You look up as your kisses go to the base of his dick, making him whimper as he tries to tell you to stop.

But he doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t want this to stop. He’s not sure why he’s so embarrassed (he does know) or why he’s trying to hide (he also knows). He moans your name, rolling his hips up because he wants you, he really, really wants you.

You're not done yet, but while you stroke him slowly, teasing his tip, biting and kissing his thighs, moaning your praise and singing your compliments, all while not breaking eye contact with him, not wanting any of your words going through one of his ears and out the other.

That night you ride him to oblivion, making him go through countless toe-curling orgasms as he fills you with so much cum, his soft cheeks so red you bite them gently, helping him stay grounded and not go stupid yet. 

It helps him think between orgasms about how even with all this attention, with you still desiring him and his body, it still doesn’t feel enough.

Once you’re both cleaned up and snuggled in bed, he has that weird look again, but you know what you have to do now.

You kiss him, so softly, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss, and once he pulls away, you whisper so happily how beautiful he looks, fixing his bangs to show his eyes better, tracing the bridge of his nose and softened jawline. 

And in the following mornings until the doctor’s appointment, you compliment how pretty he looks, how well the color of the new gym clothes look on him, how much warmer he feels whenever you hug him.

And once you hug him, it’s so hard for you to let go, to go to work after that. 

You just hope your love has oozed out of you and he managed to absorb it. Sounds weird, but you just want him to remember your promise that you’ll always love him no matter what.

The day of the appointment came and went within a blink of an eye, but Shoto’s been torn between worried and delighted. He can finally start going back to the gym! He can also take baby steps through his training, but he can also go on runs, just not for long periods.

He’s still forbidden from going to missions yet, but patrols are okay as long as he has sidekicks with him.

Yet, he’s worried about you. You’ve been silent all day, having accompanied him just in case. You aren’t ignoring him as far as he could tell, but you haven’t been your chirpy self, not even following much of his attempts at small talk.

Is this the moment you tell him you’re breaking up with him?

Okay, that sounds ridiculous, but he just wants to know you’re doing okay! He just wants to know everything you’ve done since he’s been homebound (kinda) until today wasn’t out of pity but genuine love and care.

So he sucks in some breath before asking you..

“Do you mind that I’ll be going back to the gym? Did, um, did you like me like this?”

He braces himself for the next question.

“Do you… Do you want me to stay like this? Would this make you happy?”

“Would it make you happy?”

You ask back softly, opening your arms to invite him for a hug, one he doesn’t hesitate to throw himself into, making you both land onto your bed. 

“You’re avoiding my question-” “I’m not! I’m not, Shoto. If working out to get back your body makes you happy, then go for it. I don’t care about your body. Okay, that sounded bad, let me rephrase that.”

You nervously laugh as you shift, making sure he’s comfortable as you try playing with his hair in such an awkward position.

“I love you, Shoto, very, very much. I love you because of your generosity, your kindness, your sometimes too brutal honesty, your unintentional jokes and weird humor, your confusion for such everyday normal things that you weren’t exposed to, your excitement that you fail hiding whenever we pass your favorite donut shop.

And your body during these times has made me live through one of the best experiences of my life! I got to spoil you in so many ways I wasn’t able to do before because of how busy you were. And I got to finally see a side of you no one else was able to see: you’re naturally sensitive, baby. Not in a sexual way, but in such a tender, sweet way that makes me just want to keep you away from every danger in the world.

Shoto, I saw the way your eyes lit up with the doctor’s words, and I’m glad he finally gave you the thumbs up.”

You sigh, frowning as you hold him closer.

“I know how mean you’ve been with yourself, how cruel the change was messing with your mind. I might not understand to a certain extent, but I just want you to know that I’m in no way against you going back to how you were. What I am against is you still being mean with yourself and possibly overworking yourself. Do you understand?”

He takes a while to shake his head, not knowing what you exactly mean but has a pretty good guess.

“What I mean is that you might push yourself too far and hurt yourself again. And if you hurt yourself again, the doctor might make you stay at home for who-knows how much longer and take away this opportunity you’ve probably been waiting for.”

He gasps, never having really thought about that. Yet-

“Do you want me like before?”

“Yes and no, Shoto. Yes, I want you like before because I’ll always want you, no matter what. No, I don’t want you like before because you’ll overwork yourself again and probably hurt yourself even worse next time.”

And with the conversation you both continue to have, many other topics are spoken about, helping Shoto come with his own conclusion that maybe he’ll stay soft like this for a little while longer, until he adapts back into a healthy recovery and workout routine. 

Actually, it’s only because he wants to bask in a bit more of your praise, in your reassurance, in your care as you help guide him back to his old lifestyle, all while slowly taking out certain things that you’ve both incorporated into your lives while he stayed at home.

Meaning next time his mother paid a visit, pastries, as much as they’re appreciated, will be politely declined.

[adorethedistance]

City Slicker, Cowboyfriend - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, nerves, mentions of covid.

Words: 2163

Summary: You’re starting to have doubts about moving all the way to Norman until a shopping trip to Ikea turns into the meet-cute you’ve been waiting for.

A/n: This isn’t a request or one of my Valentines day fics, this is just something that I have had stuck in my head ever since Owen posted this on IG and bc I’m facing total writers block with my other pieces I cranked this one out in a few hours to get the ball rolling again. Hopefully. Enjoy this totally unproofed, fluffy madness!! (Because who doesn’t need more Owen content in their life?)

There are perks to moving and one of them is undoubtedly: shopping. For furniture, home decor, kitchen utensils, whatever! Granted, shopping alone can be tedious and, for some, like pulling teeth, thus, I’ve enlisted the help of my best friends Leila and Chelsea. I didn’t even have to bribe them to come because everyone loves getting lost in Ikea. It’s one of the best things about the human experience.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in an Ikea,” Leila says to no one in particular as we walk through the onslaught of staged bedrooms.

“What?! Are you telling me you don’t get meatballs and lawn chairs on a weekly basis?” My exaggeration makes Leila laugh as she steps into one of the display kitchens. Looking between me and Chelsea she asks,

“What would you do if I turned the handle then a jet of water sprayed out?”

“Die, I guess.”

The three of us continue through the faux house displays and past the mattresses despite Leila’s urge to jump on every single one. As we walk through the section of different lighting features, I sigh with a frown as I think about college. I changed my bachelor’s to an associate’s so I could graduate in two years. Chelsea’s parents moved out here at the end of our senior year in high school, and she moved with them to study in Norman. Leila in turn went to Arizona for an athletic physical therapy gig, leaving me to face college alone in L.A.. In the two years the three of us were apart, we missed each other more and more, and after determining which of the three states we lived in was cheapest, we packed up and headed East. Covid kind of delayed our plans. But after a few months, I picked Leila up from Arizona and together we chased open job opportunities into Norman, Oklahoma. The three of us found an apartment space to live in together and thus, we ended up in Ikea on this fine Sunday afternoon.

Snapping back into reality I see Leila standing directly under a light that’s hanging very low from the ceiling. Once standing directly underneath it, she pulls down her mask and opens her mouth, rising to her toes to eat the fixture.

“Leila, don’t you dare fellate that light bulb! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I swear I’m practically their mom when it comes to behaving in public. Figuring they can’t hurt themselves in the college dorm section, I lead them quickly through it and into the giant furniture warehouse section. On the far wall, I see a large poster of a couple smiling brightly behind Chelsea, but I don’t bother to read the text. Leila and I spot the poster at the same time, and the imagery jogs her memory.

“Chelsea, how’s Hunter? Haven’t heard from him slash about him in like a week,” she asks about Chelsea’s boyfriend of a year.

“Oh, yeah, he tore a ligament in his wrist.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I guess he moved it wrong or something and put too much stress on the area that it just tore. He was moving hay bales into the horse stables.”

“As opposed to the chicken stables,” Leila judges under her breath, which makes me snicker as a result.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a literal cowboy,” I interject, “Like, I know we’re in Oklahoma, and he’s from Tennessee, but we saw Texas on the way out here and that’s cowboy country. Norman seems more...” I trail off in search of delicate phrasing.

“Just barely marry your cousin territory, but still downing chewing tobacco whilst driving a lifted truck?” Leila hits the nail squarely on the head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right-” Before I can continue giving my thoughts on Norman, I cut myself off at the sound of laughter behind me.

“Sorry. We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, that was just really funny.” When I turn around, I see a guy roughly our age dressed in all black with bleach-blonde hair, speaking through light, broken laughter.

“No worries,” I dismiss the apology as we pass by one another, and out from the dressers section. The three of us continue into the different sections, and come to a stop once I see we’re exactly where we need to be: dining room shit!

“Cowboy boyfriends aside- oh my gosh: cowboy boyfriends. Cowboyfriends,” I say getting lost in my new terminology. Both of my friends share a mix of laughter and gasps and my ingeniousness. “Anyway. Cowboyfriends aside, how is Avery?” I ask Leila who begins blushing madly.

“She’s really good. We were just making plans for our three year anniversary, which reminds me to tell y’all I’m flying back to Phoenix to surprise her.”

“Awwww,” I nearly tear up and the sweet image of Leila and her girlfriend reuniting, “Y’all are so cute. Both of you and your partners. You know, being the only single friend in this group has made life suck a lot. Y’all are so happy and in love and not dead inside. Honestly? Get fucked both of you.” Despite my harsh words, the three of us break into a lighthearted conglomerate of laughter.

“We’ll find you someone… eventually.” Leila pretends she also can’t hear the last part of her sentence despite being the one saying it.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to find love in Norman. I don’t need a cowboyfriend, and we’re not gonna find a true city slicker here either.”

When I finish my statement, I see our blonde friend seems to have followed us. I observe he comes to a stop in front of another guy in a flannel with a shopping cart. The way they jump into conversation with one another parallels the animated body language Leila, Chelsey, and I share. I continue to watch their exchange as Chelsea speaks up.

“Maybe you need someone right down the middle.”

“Yeah, like a guy who drives a truck but uses it to transport Ikea furniture instead of a whole ass tree that he’ll carve into a chair.” A small laugh escapes my lips, at both Leila’s statement, and the scene ahead of Blondie pretending to strangle his friend over something. I’m snapped out of my nosy yet endeared stare as a third guy appears. He’s a sandy blonde with billowing locks tucked under a trucker hat. And he came from behind me and my two friends to place something in their cart which keeps his back toward me. When he turns back around, my mind goes blank. Any thoughts of shopping for dining room chairs has left my mind. He is wearing a face mask, but he has such nice eyes that he could have a giraffe snout under the mask for all I care. I see him look up from the shelves, directly into my eyes. We stay locked for a moment before he breaks away and turns to his friends. I slowly turn to my friends too who are both giving me the exact same look of excitement and conspiracy.

“He’s really cute,” I sigh out with a laugh, swooning much louder than I’d have preferred.

“He has a face mask on,” Leila points out, her expression dropping from excited to cynical.

“Still! I can just tell.”

“Girl, what are you doing? Talk to him!” Chelsea whisper-shrieks.

“Shhh, I cannot take you anywhere!”

Glancing back at the handsome stranger, we connect eyes once more and I feel my face heat furiously as I realize he was already looking at me. I’m the first to break; I consult my friends for the best course of action and as I’m turned 180 to face them, Chelsea starts pretending to hyperventilate excitedly. Leila looks over my shoulder for me, discreetly surveying the other trio in the dining chairs aisle.

“Don’t look now, but he’s talking to his friends and looking between them and you.” I can hear in her voice she’s trying her best not to smile despite wearing a face mask.

“Should I give him my number?”

“Yes!”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I’m nervous! What if he’s gay?”

“Will you just get over there? I promise you a gay man would not be wearing what he’s wearing right now. Maybe a lesbian,” Leila adds for good measure.

“You guys are freaking me out, I need you to leave so I know you’re not judging my flirting.” I shoo my best friends out of the aisle as inconspicuous as possible. Kinda wish blondie would’ve done the same because when I turn back around, the other trio hasn’t moved and the only one looking at me is the one in all black. He quickly averts his eyes though and I take one last deep breath before walking over to the stranger. I tilt my chin up ever so slightly to fake a sense of confidence that I unmistakably don’t have right now.

“Hey.” Really, Y/n? Hey??

“Hey,” he greets back breathily. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who gets to be nervous! Man, he’s really cute. I can’t fuck this one up. I’m not doing so stellar right now. Perhaps you should say something else, dipshit?

“Uhm,” I should’ve scripted this. “I just wanted to say that-” You’ve got this. Don’t be a bummer. “I-uh, I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if I could give you my number?” My speech is slow, each word deliberate in spite of the fact that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. I’m not the one in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

Upon realizing why I walked over, blondie’s friends take the question as a sign to leave and less than inconspicuously back away from the two of us. Trucker hat spares them one last glance over his left shoulder and judging by the look flannel gives him, they were definitely talking about me in their team huddle.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna ask for your instagram- if you have one, that is.”

“I’m cool with both.” The two of us reach for our phones and unlock them with anxious hands. I move to hand him my phone with instagram open, and he trades me for his which has a new contact open. I type my name and put my favorite heart emoji next to it after triple checking the number is correct. Wow, you’re just so ballsy today, Y/n!!!!! I give him back the phone, scanning the instagram account he’s just opened and followed for me. I hear him exhale a little harder as a small laugh and can only imagine it’s from the stupid heart emoji.

“Owen,” I say in a hushed, endeared voice, fully not intending to say it out loud. “You have a million followers?! Oh, you’re an actor. OH… You’re an actor.” I really don’t need to be speaking my entire thought process right now in the middle of this Ikea. Exhaling a small laugh of my own, I see we already have a small bunch of mutuals, one of which is… Chelsea??? Looking up from my phone I turn around to see Chelsea and Leila watching the interaction from around the corner of one of the industrial shelves.

In the flurry of scattered likes, I see him find my account and follow me back. I accept the request, nervous of what he thinks of me without a face mask on. What do I think of him without a face mask on? Going back to his account, seeing his entire face is even better than just his eyes. I was right, Leila: he is cute.

“You’re really pretty,” I hear him almost sigh as he combs through the grid of my account. The comment makes my heart beat all the much faster and I finally look upward to get a glimpse of Owen in the flesh. Still as beautiful as the last time I checked!

Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, he looks back down at me and laughs,

“I think your friends got tired of waiting.”

“I think yours did, too.” The other members of our trios come back into the aisle we had kicked them from more or less two minutes ago. We connect eyes once more and stare longingly, wordlessly at one another, so lost in each other’s beauty our friends have to break up the staring contest of infatuation.

“Y/n?” I hear Leila behind me.

“Uh, well, I have to get back to chair shopping, but- text me later?”

“For sure.”

“For sure,” I mimic his voice.

“Guess I’ll see you later. Y/n.”

“Yeah.” And with that, we’re pulled apart by our respective best friends, through the vast expanse of the Norman Ikea.

“What was that?” Chelsea asks, excitedly linking arms with me.

“I don’t know I- Wait, you have some explaining to do!”

*** 

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner 

[ghoste-catte]

multiples of 3 ✌🏼-sgmdrcklee

@sagemoderocklee you’re really trying to kill me lol

This got long as heck so I’m throwing it behind a cut. Read on for answers and fic recs! (Mostly the fic recs)

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

This is a tough one to answer for me generally because I tend to spit words onto the page and once I have written them I no longer remember writing them. And 2020 has stretched on so long that as I’m looking at some of the stuff I wrote in the beginning of this year, I hardly remember what’s even in it. I think at one point someone (@goblin-draws maybe?) mentioned a line in Sleeptalk with Me where the innkeeper calls Kankuro “chubby boy”, and I was like “Oh ... did I write that? Yeah, sounds like something I’d have someone say to Kankuro ...” 

It might be easier to talk about this in other terms. One of the scenes I worked the hardest on this year was the fight scene in Chapter 3 of Skeleton Key. The original draft of the scene was a lot shorter, and a lot of the backstory for Misaki’s revenge quest was elided. The scene as originally written was clunky, confusing, and as my lovely wife/beta put it sounded “like a Naruto villain” was doing the dialogue, when previously she’d found Misaki sinister and intriguing. Which wasn’t what I wanted. I basically entirely overhauled the scene and re-wrote it several times. I wouldn’t call it a ‘favorite’ scene (I hate writing fight scenes generally; having chosen to immerse myself in a fandom about ninja where much of the drama comes from battle is my eternal regret), but it is a scene that I put a lot of effort into, and I’m moderately satisfied with the improved product that resulted.  

6. least popular fic this year

By far my least popular fic by kudos ever is Pitch Perfect. Which makes complete sense to me. It’s a fic where I’ve written 2 characters who are men in canon as cis women, which pushes a lot of uncomfortable buttons for a lot of people. It contains F/F smut, which is something that a lot of people who choose to read GaaLee probably aren’t out there looking for. And people comment and kudos less on smutfics, I assume because they don’t want their username attached to porn or because they’re embarrassed (which I totally get, no shame there). It’s a modern AU with a sports twist, and AUs are often less popular than canonverse in my experience. I will say though that it has a surprisingly high number of private bookmarks compared to other fics with comparable hit and kudos counts. So I assume people are just a bit more shy because the premise is so ‘out there’. I will say as far as my fics go, it’s one of my personal favorites and probably one of the most intimate and true-to-life things I’ve written? So it actually is a little comforting to know that something so vulnerable has relatively little attention. 

9. longest wip of the year

If we’re going based on stuff that’s partially published but not complete, my Gaara-adopts-Shinki fic On My Way Home is my longest in-progress fic at just over 20k words, although technically I started it in 2019. It will probably end up being right around 40-50k when it’s complete, which might end up situating it as my longest fic ever? 

12. favorite character to write about this year

Okay, this is an easy one. I love writing Kankuro. I think he is hilarious. He is the devil on my shoulder and a creature of pure id, and every time I write a line of dialogue for him it’s the summation of my rudest thoughts about a situation put in the crudest possible terms. If there were a megaphone directly from my unfiltered brain giving running commentary, that would be Kankuro.

15. something you learned this year

I have learned SO much this year! This is only my 2nd year properly ‘focusing’ on writing fic and investing any substantial time into it. I think the biggest thing I have learned, though, is how to overcome a lot of my self-consciousness about writing stories with NSFW elements in them. Starting out, I was so extremely shy and mortified about writing fic at all, much less things like hugging or (god forbid!) kissing. So taking on the smut prompts I took this year and really buckling down on learning to write the mechanics and emotions of sex has been a massive learning experience. (And sorry, by the way, if I haven’t gotten to a prompt you sent me in January yet. I do intend to write all of them eventually!) 

18. current number of WIPs

Ah. The call-out question. My general fic process is idea -> outline -> wip -> edit -> ready to post (where the final draft sits in my docs until I gin up the courage to actually post it). So skipping fics that are just “ideas” on the big mega-list, I have 3 fics in the “outline” stage, 13 fics in the partially written “wip” stage, 1 fic in the “editing” stage, and 2 that are complete but yet-to-be-posted. So, like, 19 total in the offing. (The “ideas” list is even worse lol.)

21. most memorable comment/review

This is such a difficult question because every single comment I get makes me do a little dance for joy. That’s not an exaggeration btw I really sit there and like bounce around in my seat for a moment before I open the Ao3 email. I am not an especially emotive person irl, but there have been times I’ve been brought near tears by comments. I’ll also occasionally show them to my wife like !! look at this nice thing this person said !! and she’s indulgent enough to actually read them. There have been a couple comments that have really stuck with me, that I starred in my inbox and return to frequently, but I don’t want to bring attention to someone else without their permission. I will say there was one person recently who mentioned (not in the comments on one of my fics) that they had found someone who does physical binding of fanfiction and they were about to ask my permission to do that, but then the person who does the binding only does certain ships that she likes ... so that, just, absolutely floored me. The idea that someone might actual want a physical copy of my stupid little ninja fanfictions is, like, so truly immense and completely overwhelming?

24. favorite fic you read this year

You can’t make me pick just one!! (For reference, I have bookmarked right around 180 fics in the past year, and that’s not including fics that I just read, really enjoyed, but didn’t think I could ‘handle’ a second time around.) So, skipping over the ones that AREN’T Naruto ... here is a brief sampling of some faves:

Silica by deepestbluest (rated E, GaaLee, ShikaTema, and Kankiba) - An absolute emotional powerhouse of a fic that manages to skillfully interweave three complex relationship dynamics, satisfactorily resolve them, and give you ALL the sandsibs feels in just over 10k words. 

Childhood Not-Friends (series) by MegaWallflower (rated G, KakaGai) - @megawallflower is a KakaGai god for good reason. Absolutely adorable relationship development fics (five of them!) with the premise that Kakashi thinks he and Gai have been dating since they were kids ... Gai just hasn’t been clued into it yet. These stories will give you heart-eyes.

The Bright Side by gidget_goes (rated T, GaaLee) - This is the Buffy AU I never knew I needed, because I’ve never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But truly you don’t need any Buffy knowledge to enjoy this fic. @gidget-goes command of imagery is masterful, and the way they manage to snap from snark to tugging at your heartstrings is awe-inspiring. Gaara breaks my heart in this. And did I mention Kankuro wears a 10-gallon hat? Because Kankuro wears a 10-gallon hat. 

Nature vs. Nurture by Bidiza (rated T, GaaLee) - So introspective and so poetic. This looks like a WIP but it’s actually multiple oneshots, although by the end of the second one you’ll be dying for the rest of the promised series. 

I’m a Fool to Want You by BeelieveRosemarie (rated M, GaaLee) - Turns out @tuttiefruttiegaalee isn’t just an amazing artist, they’re a writer, too! Slow-dancing that will break your heart. Listen to the Frank Sinatra song while you read this for extra tear-jerking effect.

Let Love be Known (series) by TenTomatoes (rated G, GaaLee) - This is the twist on the arranged marriage trope and Beauty and the Beast that I didn’t realize this fandom was missing. I’m absolutely obsessed with their concept of Gaara as the Beast

I Could Be by LilacNoctua (rated T, GaaLee) - I know I big up @lilac-writes Worthwhile series a lot (deservedly so, because it’s so good it makes you look at the series and go “Why the fuck didn’t Kishimoto make this canon exactly like this?”), but this story made me absolutely die between the butterflies in my stomach and how hard I was laughing. There’s one line--you’ll know it when you read it--that absolutely bowls me over every time I re-read this. 

And Then Continue by EgregiousDerp (rated E, GaaLee) - Obviously I’m biased because this was a gift, but @egregiousderp writes some of the the best characterized porn I’ve ever read. You will read this and go “Wow! This is exactly how it would happen!” It’s such a tender, beautiful exploration of Gaara’s insecurities and a very real feeling first time, for all its soft edges. 

Cake by citronelle (rated E, KanKiba) - I don’t even know what to say about this one other than ... phew, this is extremely well written, extremely hot, and extremely in character. Just read it. I promise it’s worth it. 

Saudade by YumKiwiDelicious (rated M, GaaLee) - I’ve run around reccing this to just about every person on the face of the earth at this point. If you’re in the GaaLee Discord you probably saw everyone salivating over every new update of this fic and with good reason. The twists and turns of this fic will have you on the edge of your seat, second guessing every single moment. And it will break your heart in the meantime. What more could you want?

the love potion commotion by floating_cats (rated T, NejiSasu with background GaaLee) - One of those fics where you wish the author’s sense of humor was your own. So many hilarious moments in this story, and it brought me a new appreciation for a ship I never would have even considered. 

Finger Lickin’ Good by whazzername (rated E, GaaLee) - Whazz is another one of those authors where I literally want to rec every single thing she’s ever written, she’s just that good. (Speaking of which, if you haven’t read Fools Rush In and its sequel Degrees of Separation, you’re missing out on the best possible Metal origin story of all time. Don’t deprive yourself of this.) But this story is just ... so incredibly in character for a situation that reads like crack. It’s handled with the utmost straight-facedness and it’s so. freakin’. good. 

heart lines by winterberry_holly (rated M, NejiTen and GaaLee) - I don’t even have the words to describe how perfect this fic is. It’s a truly beautiful exploration of Tenten’s relationship with her palmistry hobby and with the people in her life. My heart ached with every single line. 

Standing on Ceremony by kuroashi (rated E, GaaLee) - This is just ... such a beautiful wedding story. So lovely, like getting the best possible warm hug from someone you love. If that love one was slightly strange and socially inept, because, well. It’s still Gaara doing Gaara-things. @baphometsss is another one of those authors whose handling of smut scenes is so stupendous it makes me wildly jealous. 

Thrall by RokiRiot (rated T, GaaLee) - Idiots-to-lovers with a magic AU twist! This is such a wonderful story, and Gaara’s internal monologue is absolutely amazing. And Lee is Deaf in this fic, which I never ever get to see and which absolutely made my entire day/week/month/life. 

Make-Out Consequences by LuxaLucifer (rated M, KakaGai with background canon Boruto ships) - I laughed so hard reading this that I had to take a breather to stop crying. That’s not an exaggeration. The characterization in this fic is impeccable and the humor is to die for. Naruto’s buffoonery truly shines here, and the author’s wit is just beyond anything I could even properly summarize. Hysterical. A++. 

Thirteen Strokes by Luna_Lee (rated T, GaaLee) - Again, like, if you aren’t reading literally everything @sagemoderocklee writes, are you even really a GaaLee fan? But this fic is beyond even for one of Eeri’s incredibly excellent writings. The worldbuilding in this, the cultural notes, the imagery ... it’s all so lush and so fulfilling and so beautiful. It’s a story about love and it’s a story that you can tell has love poured into every single line. I can’t recommend it enough. 

Checkmate by shadowstrangle (rated G, GaaLee) - The pettiness vibes ... this is so funny. Such a cute story and I love Gaara’s sense of humor here. Not a lot of writers give him a sense of humor, but I love how @shadowstrangle gives him a slightly odd, slightly left-of-center take on humor that still manages to be so funny. 

To Court a Village by FanFictionEngineer (rated G, GaaLee) - Another one where my bias is perhaps slightly obvious, but the premise of this fic is amazing. I love cultural misunderstandings, and the idea of Lee trying his hardest to court Gaara ineptly is just so perfect. 

affliction of feeling by theformerone (rated E, SakuHina) - One of those ships that it would never have occurred to me to seek out but that absolutely works with how the author’s set it up. The dynamics here are delicious. It’s so rare to find good F/F porn but this is one of them for sure. 

Tried and Tested by twentysomething (Rated M, KakaIru with background canon Boruto ships and GaaLee) - Iruka’s narration in this story is just incredible. I haven’t laughed this hard reading a fic in ages. And the concept alone (that Naruto can’t be promoted to Hokage until he passes his chuunin exams ... as an adult ... and Sasuke gets dragged along for the ride) is just brilliant. Amazing concept, amazingly executed. 

a fireside waltz by winterberry_holly (rated M, GaaLee) - I really tried not to rec a single author more than once here but for this one I had to. I got about halfway through this fic and immediately started running around ringing the town crier bell like READ THIS FIC! READ THIS FIC! An absolutely smoldering Regency AU with such beautiful, intimate dance scenes. My heart was racing every single time their fingers brushed. If you don’t read anything else on this list, at the very least read this. 

27. favorite fanfic author of the year

I really can’t pick just one. I am lucky enough that @egregiousderp passes me her drafts under the table before (or without) publishing, and getting to read those is a private treat of unparalleled proportions. Some of my favorite things I’ve read this year I can’t even rec because they’re her unpublished stuff. 

30. favorite fandom to read fic from this year

This is gonna come off strange because I just wrote such a long Naruto reclist, but I recently watched What We Do in the Shadows, and found an incredibly talented group of authors in that fandom with really amazingly good dialogue and narrative voice. I also read a lot of fic for the new It movies (even though I couldn’t watch the 2nd one for ~reasons~), and damn if there isn’t a talented crop of authors in that fandom, too. And finally with ATLA making its way onto Netflix, I had the chance to start watching that for the first time and found a ton of really good fic there as well! 

fanfic end of the year asks!

[marithlizard]

First Impressions: RWBY v8c9, “Witch”

"Witch", huh?  Presumably Salem.  Are we going to get more backstory lore? Because YES PLEASE.

The Atlas army vs. the whale whose teeth loom like mountains on the horizon.  They look like toys. I can't help thinking these soldier mooks equal any Huntsman in courage, if not in skill.  And this is the first real large-scale action any of them have seen - that anyone in the world has seen in their lifetimes.

eyy Ren has gotten over the snappishness as well as the despairing angst.    Suddenly gaining control of his evolving Semblance must help a lot with the feelings of powerlessness.  (And though we haven't seen him use it on Jaune or Yang, I'm thinking being able to know for certain how much your friends care about you and have your back  is a source of power in itself.)

They're discussing fairy tales MY HEART

Ozpin continuing to confirm he has handed over the reins completely to Oscar.   I don't like this about the accelerating merge, though. It feels like we're going to lose Oz  very soon. And yet,  Jinn's vision definitely showed us Oz and host coexisting in middle age.  Did they not use magic in that lifetime?  Or is the merge somehow not about "losing" either one of them?

Team FNKI in a line of regular soldiers!  They've got to have mobilized all the students, but I wonder if we'll see any others besi-  Neon. Neon you are wearing rollerskates to the apocalypse.  

...well, why not?  

Marrow,  YOU'RE just a kid.  You can't be more than a few years older, and you're not that much more seasoned. Though I understand the feeling.

So, Hazel, you're ready to rejoin fact-based reality?  Or at least listen to someone who pretty much definitionally can't be lying?  

(Actually...the only information we have about Jinn comes from her, and it'd be a hell of an interesting twist if she was editing facts to fit her own agenda.  I don't think it's very likely for meta reasons, but it'd make a great fic premise, wouldn't it?)

Huh.  He sounds much much calmer, and like he's been thinking through everything for the last few hours.  

....what? He's not even going to ask???  THAT is a surprise.  The existence of Jinn and knowing Oscar  gave him the password in good faith  were enough to deradicalize a violent extremist. (Wish it was that easy in RL.)

Oscar's little wave

(You know, now that I think of it,  Ozpin has never interacted with Jinn himself.  She's greeted him twice and he hasn't answered.  Does he resent her for not answering his predecessor's questions more helpfully?  Mistrust her?  )

yes rescue Emerald good

"Just to be  clear" - oh god I thought that was Salem's voice and nearly jumped out of my seat.

"I'll come back for it"  crap crap crap  Hazel's redemption arc is going to be short, painful, and fatal.   And Salem will keep the lamp, if not have the password.

And we'll just all turn our backs on the divine artifact-entity and walk away.  I guess they don't think she's enough of a person to say goodbye to?  

And our eavesdropper is...the one person who CAN'T summon Jinn or ask her a question.  

Oh no. No.  Please don't have the fandom descend into "Jinn is ablist" discourse. (ETA: upon thinking further I take it back,  the gods suck and providing a Relic that not everyone can use is in its way a tiny symbol of their callous attitude to people. ) 

RJY working smoothly together, nice. 

Robyn said people are always suspicious of her, and her truthsense ability has a clearly visible limiting condition.    But Ren can apparently read the emotions of everyone around him all the time without them knowing.  Surely that would make a lot of people uncomfortable.  (Although I expect  the writers to ignore this, and will be pleasantly surprised if they explore it at all.)

That's always the way isn't it, you roll a 4 on your concentration check right when a demonic jellyfish is floating by.

Huh, they separated from Oscar?  And Hazel is worried about him? I'm still dizzy from the speed of this 180.  

uh...hi, Salem.  Nice...weather outside the whale today?  Seen any good dismemberments lately?

Hazel,  you are a terrible liar and you can't bluff.   Admittedly the stakes are a lot  higher here than in the weekly WTCH poker game.

Salem NYOOM

No one can accuse Yang of not understanding the core competencies.

"Juan"???  I did hear that correctly, yes?  Marrow not remembering Jaune's name is hilarious.  And I was about to say understandable, but no, they worked with the Ace Ops for weeks!  Did you just have him mentally filed as "the blond himbo tank"?

O-kayyyyyy.    I can't blame Emerald,  but this could go so horribly wrong so fast. 

Isn't Hazel-disguised-as-Oscar  way too heavy to pick up like tha-  OHHHHHHHHH.  Now things make much more sense.  Oscar was the one worried about Hazel earlier,  and failing utterly to bluff.  Infinitely more in character.

Awkward Semblance is also extremely convenient in short-cutting negotiations. Nice.

I do not, in fact, have any doubt that Winter would blow up her sister.   And in this situation  I can't say it's the wrong thing to do.  As far as they know their bomb is the only hope.

Wow. I really did not think we’d go to toe to toe with Salem herself at this point in the plot.  It's so traditional to save the final boss fight for, well, the final boss.  She's terrifying and unstoppable, but not actually more terrifying than the giant whale.    

Her regen is just like  the Hound's body morphing, but far smoother and faster with a thousand "deaths" of practice.

She sounds more normal right now, oddly.   Her voice is lacking both the measured slowness and the resonance it has when she's making speeches.  I like the idea of that falling away when she's surprised and exasperated.  

Our heroes are very very lucky that RWBY is not a darker show, or those Grimmhand  restraints would be doing a lot of gross agonizing damage with their nails.   There's no reason she'd want to be gentle at this point.

Yeah, there's the sonorous voice again. Although it wavers again with that "Why do you Keep. Coming. Back?"   Does she not know? How can she not know, Jinn's vision said Ozma told her everything.  Perhaps she means: why do you keep fighting  me instead of hiding like the hermit.

Yang, don't give her information,  gah!   "Her again."  She sounds pleased.  I think we are going to find out Summer's fate this volume after all.  Salem will reveal it to break Ruby’s spirit.  Prediction: it will work. 

(EDIT: I completely missed the significance of Yang calling Summer “my mom”.  Wow.)

She definitely intends to turn Emerald into something like the Hound.

"No more Gretchens."   Oh, of course that's what Oscar said he needed before they could leave, the cane.

Hazel's life expectancy is minutes long but at least it included a satisfying KAPOW.   And every single sparkly crystal he owns.  Somehow he seems smaller here, less bulky than he did at Haven.  Less a titan and more a man.

yigh he's pounding her into mush.  Which he has several times before, apparently.  This is all to buy you time, Emerald, why are you not running.   (I know, I know.   She's never had someone actually help her and care about her, only scraps of affection to establish control.    At this moment Cinder's hold on her is breaking forever.)

(Neo, on the other hand.  Will she bring the lamp to Cinder, who frankly has been a totally crap partner and deserves no loyalty?    Is she still after revenge?   My bet is still firmly on her planning to backstab Cinder as soon as Ruby is gone.  But beyond that, we don't know her thoughts at all.  She might join the heroes, or disappear like Raven to hide while the apocalypse works itself out.)

That's true, Oscar, but what can you do to stop her?  

Hah!  Clever,  Hazel.  And she's actually screaming in pain from the fire, whereas she didn't make a sound when being pulverized.

What does the cane DO?  It's impressive as heck, but I can't tell.  Channeling his magic, certainly.  Are we going to lose Oz  right now?  With no chance to talk to Ruby or Qrow or anyone, to reconcile?  It seems all too likely, and such a waste.

Which makes me think, in turn, that perhaps we will lose Oscar too in a way.  Unexpected - I have always thought the merge would end with Oscar holding all the memories.  But maybe he won't be quite either of them anymore, even if he remembers both and the others still call him Oscar.  And that thought also makes me sad.

Anyway,  good episode, though now the title doesn’t seem particularly relevant. Hazel was much more the focus. 

[thisonesatellite]

The Sword and The Heart -- CH1

SUMMARY:  It started because love was a weapon.

Wait--this is how it started: Emma opened her mouth to scream, and the world went dark.

There was danger and Darkness, and words spoken into the void as she surrendered herself.

It started because Emma did not want to see anyone else she loved die. (He’d promised her he wouldn’t.)

Love was a weapon, and it was always used against her, to separate her from the people she loved. (From the person she loved.)

That's how it started.

But now Emma Swan, Dark One, has to answer a question:  How does it all end?

(Season 5A/B Canon Divergence - for @cssns​ )

.

| AO3 |

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A/N:  Once upon a time - almost a year ago now - i got a message from @ohmightydevviepuu​, who wanted to brainstorm her Fic Noir S1 divergence.  At some point we started to talk about everything we wanted to change about S5, which turned into an epic friendship, more than six months of discussion, thoughts, brainstorms, writing sessions, and an entire S5 rewatch marathon inside of a single weekend, from which neither one of us has recovered yet.  🤣

All of which culminates in the story you see before you.  

Fair warning: It’s A LOT.  Especially in this first chapter.  We leave the gate at 180 mph to set up everything, so if at the end of this chapter you don’t know what the hell is going on - bear with us.  We're going places, and we will take you with us.  Also - there is canonical character death.  It’s temporary, as it is in canon, but it’s there.

But this is S5 the way we would have done it, and we hope you come along for the ride.

.

Thanks to @katie-dub​ for being the amazing person who’s always up for the ride, and of course @profdanglaisstuff​, who - among all other things - helped me put together the art and made my doodles into something spectacular.  Plus @kmomof4​ & @winterbaby89​ (along with Saira) - my @cssns​ superheroes: You rock.

And last, but not least, this entire journey is and has been amazing.  @ohmightydevviepuu​ and i figured out a writing process that worked, and left us with a whole which is new and different from the sum of its parts, from the pieces of each writer.  This is neither her, nor me.  This is us.  And i am so so grateful to have gotten to be a part of this.  All i can say is, if you ever get a chance to co-write with Devra, OMG, DO IT.

Enough prologue.  Enjoy!  ❤❤❤

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i’m going to use the usual tag list, i hope that’s OK.  If you want on or off, let me know!  (And seriously - if it’s ‘off’ - please don’t worry.  Absolutely no hard feelings.)

@mariakov81 @stahlop @thejollyroger-writer @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @toomanyfandomstochoosefrom @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @mayquita @ohmightydevviepuu @sals86 @karenfrommisthaven @kmomof4 @kday426 @superchocovian @jennjenn615  @facesiousbutton82 @suwya @spartanguard @capnjay21 @shardminds @carpedzem @girl-in-a-tiny-box @ilovemesomekillianjones @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @teamhook @katie-dub  @shireness-says​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @cluttermind​  @fragilebeautifulchaos​ @optomisticgirl​

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CHAPTER 1: the lady of circumstance 

Once upon a time.

Four words, age-old, at the preface of every great story–stories meant to teach the difference between heroes and villains.

Between good and evil.

Once upon a time, there was a little Lost Girl in the cold streets of Minneapolis.  Her name was Emma, and Emma didn’t know–or care–about heroes or villains or good or evil.  She did, however, love stories; had told them to herself in her head on so many sleepless nights.  Stories were places–the only places–were lost little girls found homes, and families, and warmth, and happy endings.

Maybe they never came true, but they were always about the same thing:  Transformation.

Transformation– like the night she needed the book in her backpack to magically become heat and she tried to light it on fire.  Another street kid, older than Emma with red hair, stopped her.

“You’re not really gonna burn that, are you?”

“I’m cold,” she said.

“Yeah, but these stories are great.  Like, The Ugly Duckling.  I loved this one when I was a kid.  The duck becomes a swan.  It’s beautiful.”

But the duck had always been a swan, Emma knew.  That’s what she told herself, on the mornings after, when there was no home or family or warmth or happy ending.

“Maybe that’s how you see it,” the boy had said.  “But I see it as about belief–about a duckling believing so hard she’d become a swan that one day, it actually happened.”

So that was her name now–Swan.  Emma Swan, back in the system and still telling herself stories, and she liked that her new group home went to the movies a lot.  Movies were stories told in the dark.

In the dark, in a theater full of other kids, she could almost feel like just another kid.

“Come on,” her foster mom said.  “Everyone stick together.”

In the dark, no one noticed a missing Apollo bar, and Emma didn’t have to share.

“Don’t,” the man said.  He appeared suddenly, tall and imposing in a red uniform.  The ridiculousness of his hat somehow took nothing away from his authority.

Emma put the candy bar down, unopened.  “I’m sorry,” she said.

“I wasn’t talking about the candy bar, Emma,” he said.

She shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in her seat.  This man knew she was only sorry she had gotten caught.  She could hear it in his voice.

Emma sat up straighter and said, “How do you know my name?”

Because Emma didn’t know–couldn’t know–that this was part of her story; didn’t know that she was the product of True Love.

She was the happy ending to one of the great hero stories.

(No story with a happy ending left a little girl lost and homeless in fucking Minneapolis.)

“I know many things, Emma,” the man said. 

Emma didn’t know that fairy tales were more than true, that they were history.  Her history.

Fairy tales tell children that dragons can be killed, that darkness can be overcome.

Belief.  Transformation.

What Emma didn’t know–couldn’t know–was that she would be the Darkness.

“And I’m here to tell you:  Don’t do it.”

Emma didn’t know that one day she would be called to a hero’s journey of her own, didn’t know that she would break a Dark Curse.  

Didn’t know that when she met Captain Hook, pitting her actual magic powers against his long history of anger issues, she would have their roles mixed up.

She wasn’t ‘good’.  Hook wasn’t ‘evil’.

“I don’t understand,” Emma whispered.

“When you do something you’re not supposed to do–even when you do it for the right reasons–bad things happen, Emma.”

Someday, Emma would understand.

Understand that life wasn’t as simple as the stories made it out to be.

(Neither were people.)

“Bad things,” the man repeated.  “Leave the sword alone.”

When she opened her heart to Killian Jones, Captain Hook, the lost boy all grown up and on a journey of his own, he wouldn’t be the hero of her story.

But she might be the villain of his.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Emma Swan.”

The man in the red hat was gone.

Emma Swan took a bite of her chocolate bar.

Gone, and already forgotten–except for the voice in her mind that whispered:

Leave the sword alone, Emma.

It echoed in the dark.

Once upon a time…

.

A steel blade swings towards her, the perfect marriage of heft and razor sharp edge and momentum, and is stopped in its path toward her neck by the steel in her own hands and the desperate brute force of muscle and will.

 “So this is how it ends.  Not with a whimper.  With a bang.”  

 Kinetic energy converted into potential energy with a literal bang, and she nearly staggers.

But not quite.  This will not best her.

 “How fitting.”  

 She pulls back her sword, and looks up at his face, contorted with fury and hatred and rage.  

 “How fitting that I will be the one to send you to meet your maker.”

She strikes a blow so fast he barely has time to parry.

Their hilts lock, bring her face up against his. She can feel his breath.

 “I am your maker,” she hisses and even underneath all his fury, he flinches.  She steps back and drops into fighting stance:  Deceptively loose, coiled and ready to strike.

Just the way he taught her.

 “You’re going to hell,” he snarls, advancing.

She thrusts.  “I’ll save you a seat,” she says.

 “Let’s finish this.”

–

“Dark One, I summon thee.”

 Killian Jones knew that words could cut, could be weapons.  But in his life–his unnaturally long life–Killian had never felt a sentence cut him to the bone.  Until now.

Not when Milah had whispered into his ear with her final breath.

Not when he’d told Bae he would bow out, allow the boy he had betrayed the chance of love and a family that would never be his.

Not even when he was forced to tell Emma the lies Rumplestiltskin whispered into his stolen heart.

 Killian had imagined the words, these specific words, imagined using them to summon his crocodile, to feel after centuries the satisfaction of metal piercing scaled skin and finding purchase, delivering a long-overdue death to his foe.  But this–now–hearing those words come from his mouth, holding the jagged blade bearing the name EMMA SWAN–

 Given the choice he would have rather eviscerated himself.

But that was not an option; he had no choice.

 “Dark One, I summon thee.”

The words tasted like splinters of glass and happiness in his mouth.

And nothing.  Happened.

 He looked up at Regina, at Snow and David and Robin and Henry, all of them with equal expressions of surprise and barely-contained fear on their faces. 

He tried a third time.

 “Dark One,” he said, forcing the words past gritted teeth, “I summon thee.”

Could words actually, physically, break a heart?  Was it possible to bleed from them?  Metal piercing flesh and finding purchase?

“Why–” Snow’s voice sounded small and much more afraid than he had thought possible.  “Why is she not coming?”

He looked down at the cursed dagger, the root of all evil and the source of all of their problems, and felt rage sweep up from his belly, hot and implacable.

“I thought this could summon her from anywhere in the realm,” he hissed, and had the satisfaction, quickly repressed, of seeing Snow flinch from the tone of his voice.

“It can.”  Regina’s voice was gratingly calm.  “Which can only mean one thing.”  She nodded at the dagger.

 “Emma isn’t in this realm.”

 –

 It started because love was a weapon.

Wait–this is how it started:  Emma opened her mouth to scream, and the world went dark.

 There was danger and Darkness, and words spoken into the void as she surrendered herself.

It started because Emma did not want to see her loved ones die, and–he’d promised her he wouldn’t.  Love was a weapon, and it was always used against her, to separate her from the people she loved–from the person she loved.

 now i lay me down to sleep

i will not scream

i will not weep

if i should die before he wakes–

 There is sunlight.

(Home, and warmth, and a family.  A happy ending.)

The sun looks different here, not that she had ever had a reason to notice before.  Maybe it is just brighter today because they were all alive.

(They almost hadn’t been.)

(And in her dream, as Emma Swan lay in the arms of the man she loved, there was darkness.  A cloud, and a voice:  “Leave the sword alone, Emma.”)

 “Emma.”

 His arms are around her, alive and here and whole, but she sees darkness.

She sees a tombstone.  Killian Jones. 

Emma sees him, battered and bruised and broken and bleeding, and she sees darkness.

(She’d watched him die and it had almost–

It had almost been real.)

It almost killed her, watching it, watching him throw himself in front of Henry.  Sacrificing himself to save a world he had no way of knowing was real.

(“All in a day’s work for a hero.”)

He’d promised her.

He’d promised her he’d never do that.  He promised he wouldn’t die, and he is looking at her, that look in his eyes–soft and sad and knowing, like he can hear the words even when she does not say them.

Because she can’t..

(In her dream, she whispered it to the tombstone.  “I love you,” her voice sounding battered and bruised and broken; she couldn’t tell if he could hear her, if he could see her, if she was even real to him.)

(If he was real at all–if either of them were.)

 “Emma.  Wake up.”

 She hadn’t told him.

She has him under her, pulling at his clothes with her magic until he fills her and she comes with a sob as their fingers link against the mattress.

He loves her and holds her in the fading too-bright afternoon sunlight, and she says nothing.

 i pray the light his soul to take.

 “The sorcerer battled the darkness, tethered it to a human soul that could be controlled.”

 But the darkness echoes.

And the darkness does not want to be contained.

It does not want to be tethered.

 “The sorcerer is the only one with the power to destroy the darkness–once and for all.”

 (She hadn’t been able to save him, or anyone, in the other realm.)

(And she wondered:  When had she gotten so used to the magic?)

 “I love you,” she says.  “Killian, I–”

He is looking at her, that look in his eyes–soft and sad and knowing–as she reaches out, offering herself as the tether, a human vessel to contain the darkness.

(A human soul that could be controlled.)

 I love you.

I love you.

 The darkness screams.

 “Emma!”

–it’s a swirling mass of nothing, an endless landscape of darkness blacker than night.  It’s not even blackness so much as the absence of light, and it’s pouring out of–where?

Everywhere.

 “EMMA.”

–darkness.  Blacker than–

Blacker than–

 “EMMA, WAKE UP.”

 Nothing.

Emma blinked, but there was no difference between eyes open and closed.  There was nothing to see, and nothing to feel, and a complete absence of ambient sound, except for–

 “Emma.”

 The voice was calm now, and it surrounded her; unfamiliar, but not unknown.

 “Come back.”

 It was calm and sure, the voice she knew from somewhere, commanding her, commanding her, and that–

 Emma took a deep breath, and focused–closing her eyes and opening them and found herself in a large, eerily familiar room.  Sitting on beige carpet.  The walls were lined with polished wooden shelves–full of books–and there were tables–also full of books–and desk lamps with brass fittings, the source of the indirect light that had filtered through her subconscious.

She knew this place.  It was the library–the mansion library.

She was lying on the floor of the library in the Sorcerer’s mansion, staring at a face that, like the voice, was unfamiliar but not unknown.  She tasted chocolate–movie theater chocolate–an Apollo bar.

She saw a red uniform.

 Emma sat up, and the man across from her smiled.  It was a strange smile, genuine but empty.

 “There you are,” he said in the voice that was unfamiliar but not unknown and she remembered, shifting uncomfortably almost as an instinct; but she was not a little lost girl sitting in the dark anymore.  

She had a home, a family, a happy ending.

He extended a hand to help her up and she ignored it–ignored the way his smile, if it could be called that, widened, as if he had expected nothing less.  He herded her to one of the small desks.

Sat down across from her.

Looked at her, and waited, and shifted.  Uncomfortably.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said finally.

“Are you the Sorcerer?”  Even in her mind, she could hear the capital letters of the title and all it conveyed.  Idly, she wondered if he knew of the havoc he had wreaked by allowing his Author loose on the world.  Wondered if he knew his Apprentice was dead.

The man shook his head.  He was young, dark-skinned and good-looking, and–she could feel the power of him, the depths of it.  

He was an ocean and Regina was a drop of water.

“Not anymore,” he said, finally answering her question.

“Why am I–”  her eyes darted around, taking in the books.  They also looked familiar.  “Are these all storybooks?”

The man smiled again.  Again, it looked empty.  And strained.

“They’re empty and irrelevant and we don’t have much time.  Listen to me, Emma Swan.”

It was a command–again–and it rankled, but the way he said her full name was oddly imploring.  “You have a choice to make here, and you have to make it now.”

“Then stop speaking in riddles and tell me what I’m doing here.”

“It’s simple, actually.”  His smile was pained now.  “You have a choice to make, Dark One.”

 Something inside Emma began to howl even before he said it.

The capital letters of the title and all that it conveyed.

No longer Emma Swan.

Dark One.

 “A choice between Darkness and Light.”

 –

 Clang.

 A vicious thrust connects with Emma’s blade and sends her reeling, seriously off-balance for the first time since they started fighting in earnest, and she feels a small spike of worry.

What if this is not how it ends?

 –

 “Let me tell you a story,” the man, the Sorcerer, said.

“I thought you were in a hurry.”

“This is a story you need to hear.  And Emma–” he leaned forward and she could make out the strange gold flecks in his eyes.  Familiar eyes.  She had seen these up close before.

 Leave the sword alone.

 “–this time, I need you to listen.  For once in your life, pay attention.”

Before Emma could protest he held up a hand.

“Your life depends on it.”  He nodded at her, his brows drawn, his jaw tight.  “Your life and the lives of all the people you love.  Every one.”

A feeling flickered through Emma at his words, starting at the base of her spine and curling its way through her chest until it clawed at her heart.  The people she loved.

Her parents.

Henry.

Killian.

 “Was that a threat?”  It was somewhere between a snarl and a hiss and the man across from Emma sighed, making her even angrier.  “Who the hell are you?  Who are you to tell me about Darkness and Light and choices and what the fuck am I doing in this godforsaken library?”

 He didn’t answer, and the feeling in Emma’s chest tightened around her ribcage.

“How did I get here?  How do I get out?”

 He exhaled and Emma watched his spine stiffen, as if he was steeling himself for something.

 “My name is Merlin,” he said, and inside Emma’s head something started to hiss.  “And I tell you this story because I am quite familiar with the choice you are about to make–and its consequences.”

 “Start.  Talking.”  Emma issued a command of her own as she raised her hand, as if to–what?

What was she going to do, exactly?

 The man–Merlin–seized on her hesitation and pressed on.  His voice was once again calm, cool.

Expressionless.

“The reason you are here, Emma,” he said, “is that this is no ordinary mansion.”

Emma rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the hissing inside her head.

He watched her–just for the space of a heartbeat–and nodded.

 Started again.

“Let me tell you a story,” he repeated.  But this time, there was an edge to the words.

A warning, and when she said nothing, he settled back, though it looked as if he’d long forgotten what a comfortable position was.

“Once upon a very long time ago I was a boy, and I was in love with a beautiful girl.”  The left corner of his mouth ticked up in a wan approximation of a wistful smile.  “She was fierce and proud and lovely, and she cared deeply for the people she loved.”  His voice became a whisper.  “I was honored to be among them.  But not–”

 He stopped, cleared his throat, tried again.

“I was not always as you see me, Emma Swan,” he said.

“Not always a creepy, cryptic weirdo?  What a relief.”  

 This time, he was the one who got angry.

Almost.

His calm, Emma noticed, never truly broke; emotions, like comfortable sitting positions, were a distant memory to him, and she wondered how old he really was.

 “I am older than you can possibly imagine,” he said.  “I am immortal, Dark One.”

 Emma startled.

 “As are you.”  His voice was steady again as he continued, but only for a moment.  “When I fell in love with Nim–”

And then–his calm cracked.  

He couldn’t say her name.  

Instead, he took another breath.  “I had an opportunity to sever myself from the life I had been living.  The life, Emma, and the magic.  To live a normal life with the woman I loved.”

 Another feeling stirred within Emma.

Sympathy.

Empathy.

She knew this story.

 “She had an unfailing sense of justice.”  Merlin was still speaking.  “And an unquenchable thirst for power.  She thought power was the only way to mete out justice, to balance the scales.  So when one day she was put before the choice of taking on the Darkness, or staying in the light, she followed the call of Darkness.”

 He exhaled a long, defeated breath.

 “She thought she could wield its sword for good.  She couldn’t.  No one can.”

Merlin looked up as Emma saw real emotion flitter across his strangely blank face.  Sadness.

Despair.

Loneliness.

 “So now, Emma, you stand at the same threshold, and I am here to tell you:  Leave the sword alone.”

 “When you do something you’re not supposed to do–”

 “The movie theater,” Emma whispered.  “You were the usher.  You had on a red uniform, and a hat, and–it was you.”

 “Bad things happen, Emma.”

 Merlin nodded.

 “I’ll be waiting for you.”

 “You told me that then, too.  To leave the sword alone.”

“I did.”  His voice was heavier now, weighted with hints of sadness and exhaustion.  “Like I said, Emma, I’ve been waiting for you.  I knew that one day you would face this choice.”

“But I still don’t understand.”  Emma looked around.  “You keep talking about swords.  There aren’t any here.”  She shrugged.  “You talk of choice, but I already took on the Darkness.”

 He reached for her hands and Emma felt Merlin’s skin–strangely hot and cold at the same time.  Smooth, and yet textured, and so very different from the way Killian’s warmth spread across her skin; the way she could feel him as if he was a part of her whenever they touched.

 “How long have I been here?” Emma whispered, pulling her hand back, rubbing at the spot on her wrist that was his favorite.  “Where’s Killian?”

 –

 The air left Killian’s lungs all at once and he sat down, hard, on the pavement before he could even feel his knees buckle.  He thought he’d known what it felt like to have his heart ripped from his body.

He’d been wrong.

This was–it was absence, complete and brutal as he missed something he had never fully recognized while it was there, the way he could feel her when they were together; he only now noticed how strong it had been and how lost he was without it.  Lost, with no hope and nothing to fight for, not a shred of hope to hold on to.

 This was–

 He’d felt like this, once before in his life.

He’d been wrong about that, too, he thought, feeling the dagger in his hand and idly wondering if it would bring her back and rid her of its influence if he–

If he used it, used it on himself, would he become the Dark One?

Killian Jones knew price of using the dagger’s magic to take out its bearer.  Had thought about it, strategized for it, debated it for the better part of three centuries in his quest for vengeance against the creature who killed the woman he loved, and still had never been put to the question of whether it was a price he would be willing to pay.  

Darkness.  

Immortality.  Centuries–millennia–with nothing but his anger, and his hate, and his despair.

 Now the woman he loved was the creature of the Darkness, and he knew the answer was, simply, yes.

Yes.

 He looked up and saw Regina, grinding her teeth as if she could will the dagger to conjure up Emma; followed her arm to where it wrapped around Henry and felt the stabbing ache turn to a dull pain.

 It wouldn’t even be a sacrifice, to see his name take the place of Emma’s–to erase the block lettering of EMMA SWAN on the blade and free her of its power.

To pay its price.

 Snow stepped forward, out of David’s embrace, and her hand went to his wrist just above the hilt of the dagger.  

 “That’s not the answer, Killian,” she said, her use of his name almost a caress of itself,  her voice soft and out of earshot of the others.  “We’ll find her.  That’s what this family does.”

 Family.  Home.  A happy ending.

She’d left–all of it.

Him.

She’d chosen it, his Savior, and he knew her, knew why–she needed to act, it’s what she did.  While he sat here.

 “We will always find her,” Snow insisted.  Killian looked up at her, not caring that she could see the tears glistening in his eyes.

“Together, Killian,” Snow said.  “As a family.  We’ll find a way.”

 What was it the hero types were always saying–find another way?

He’d battled a Dark One for centuries, after all.

He could find a way to save one.

All in a day’s work for a hero.

Killian’s grip on the dagger loosened, but he could not bring himself to let it go.  He couldn’t–

It was the only piece of her he had left.

 –

 He takes a step forward.

And another.

He’s playing with the sword–toying with it.  Toying with her, a raptor with its prey, and then–

It’s in her face, one smooth, deadly motion and a sword tip inches from her nose.

“No home,” he spits.  “No warmth.  No family.  No hope, Savior.”

 He relents, stepping back.

“What’s left?”

 –

 Where was Killian?

Emma kept rubbing the spot on her wrist, almost convincing herself that she could feel him doing it–that she could feel him holding on to her somehow.

But Killian wasn’t here.

 Wherever this was–wherever she was–he was not, and it was an ache.

A void.

Emma missed him.  She missed him like she’d never missed anything in her life, like she never knew it was possible to miss anyone or any thing–as if an absolutely essential part of her was missing, and it hurt.

Love was a weapon.

 Then Merlin’s hands squeezed hers and brought her back to the moment.  “Emma.”  Merlin leaned forward, the gold flecks in his eyes now glowing.  “Darkness and Light are the human condition.  We all have both.  We ALWAYS have both.” 

 Hisssssssssssss.

 “It’s what you make of them that decides your fate,” he said.  “You can follow the Darkness, or you can follow the Light.  You can make the choice, Emma Swan.”

 The hiss inside Emma’s head turned into a howl again, and with it a stabbing pain started to drum in her temples.  It took her several long moments to breathe through it and force the voice back down to a hiss.

 “Do you hear it?” Merlin’s eyes were narrow and sharp.  “You hear the Darkness whispering?”

Emma just nodded.  There was no reason to lie, not when she needed every scrap of information she could get from him.

“This is only the beginning,” he said.  “This is only the faint echo of Darkness that can penetrate the walls of this mansion.  It’s going to be much louder when you leave.”

“That’s not a choice,” Emma said.  “That’s coercion.  Are you telling me that if I choose the Darkness, this howling will stop?”

Merlin looked at her, his face unmoving as Emma’s own eyes turned narrow and sharp.  “Yes,” he said.  “But I beg you, Emma, don’t.  There is another way.”

 It was an echo in her head and it felt nearly as far away as Merlin’s warning, but it was there:  her mother’s voice.  We always find another way.

And her son’s:  That’s what heroes do.

 Merlin looked defeated.  And tired.  Emma shrugged.

 All in a day’s work for a hero.

 “The woman you loved,” Emma said, watching as Merlin’s eyes got shiny for just a second before he focused again.  “Did she do good?  Did she dispense justice, right her wrongs?”

“No.”  The gold flecks in his eyes shone and then disappeared.  “She tried.  She–failed.  Emma, eternity is a very long time.  Longer than she could fight.  Longer than you can.”

 Emma thought of a Storybrooke under the protection of unlimited power.  Thought of the monsters and demons and curses she’d be able to break, to defeat, with a flick of her wrist, an ocean of power compared to Regina’s single drop.  She thought of Henry growing up safely, under no threat to life or limb; thought of Killian, never again to be taken from her, his smile loving and warm.

 Thought of everyone able to live and thrive and grow as her Darkness kept the shadows at bay.

The feeling around her chest eased; its claws retracted.

 Leave the sword alone.

 She couldn’t tell whether it was the memory, or the broken wizard before her.

With a supreme effort she tore herself away from the beautiful image in her mind.

 Find another way.

 Emma looked back at Merlin and said:  “What’s the other way?”

And for the first time, Merlin smiled a real smile, and pointed.

 This door, unlike the one that had returned Anna and Elsa to Arendelle, was unremarkable.

Emma shrugged again as she opened it, not even looking behind her as she walked through.

 –

Killian paced.

The movement was the only thing that made him feel as though he was doing something, counting out his measured steps against the soothing boards of the Jolly Roger, each creak and knot exactly where it had been for centuries as he pounded out a rhythm from the port side of the cockpit to the starboard side and back again.

The dagger was holstered in his belt; periodically he ran his fingers across its carvings, tracing the letters of her name with his thumb.

 EMMA SWAN.

Port, and starboard.

Starboard and port.

 Killian had let Snow White and Prince Charming pull him to his feet, let them very nearly drag him to their loft to “rest”.  He followed Henry up the ladder at the boy’s insistence.

He removed his boots and his jacket and sprawled himself across the small bed with its pillow that still smelled like her–that still smelled like them.

 Staying in the loft had proved impossible.  Killian couldn’t lie there, supine and solitary on the bed in which he had made love to her only hours ago.  

 He could not stay there, mere feet away from the smaller bed where Henry slept; though the boy’s eyes watching him descend the ladder quickly put the lie to that illusion.  Snow and Charming sat at their dining table, an open bottle of MacCutcheon untouched between them.

 Neither of them said a word as he left.

What was there to say?

Nothing.

And that’s what they were doing–nothing.

She wasn’t here and that’s what he felt:  Nothing.  Just letters engraved on a piece of metal where EMMA SWAN should have been.

 Regina had slammed the door in his face, hurling obscenities over Robin Hood’s shoulder as she did so.  “Come back in the morning, mate,” he suggested.

 He had then found himself contemplating the ‘Belle’ button on his talking phone as he stood in front of the closed pawn shop, unwilling to press it.  She was most likely doing whatever it was one did in this realm to treacherous, murderous–

Dark Ones.

 EMMA SWAN.

 His heart clenched, the heart so recently stolen and returned to him.

By Belle–sweet, kind Belle, still blinded by love.

Love was a weapon as persuasive and dangerous as magic.

 And so Killian found himself pacing the familiar decks of the Jolly Roger instead of disturbing Belle.  Belle, who had loved a Dark One even when no one else could–even when he didn’t deserve it–who always found a way to see the man behind the beast and even, once, came close to piercing the Darkness with True Love’s Kiss.

But Emma was not the crocodile; Emma deserved love.  Emma was not a beast.  She was difficult, headstrong, stubborn, and she was the other half of himself.

Stone-cold sober and mind racing, Killian walked, desperate with the need to find her, to do something, and to do it quickly–as quickly as possible.

Save Emma.  Whatever the cost.

 Port, and starboard.

Starboard and port.

 Daylight found him slumped against the mast, his face turned toward the sky and one leg bent at the knee with the other stretched out in front of him.  The dagger was still in his hand.

Killian heard a throat clearing at the base of the gangplank.

“Um, ahoy?”

 Killian closed his eyes.

“Um, permission to come aboard?”  Henry cleared his throat after his voice cracked on the last word.  “Killian?”

 “Here I am, lad.”

 Henry’s gaze was worried.

Knowing.

No thirteen-year-old should have eyes this knowing.

 “Killian,” Henry said, and the way he said his name, the way he did not call him ‘Hook’–

“Killian, I have an idea.”

Killian blinked.

“I know it looks hopeless,” the boy said, his voice breaking again.  Killian wanted to reach out, to pat his hand, but he still held the dagger, and found himself unable to move, torn between annoyance and something else.  “I know it does, but I have an idea.”

 Hope.  A tiny spark, but–

 Killian looked up at Henry and nodded.  Grinned–a weak, half-hearted thing as he got to his feet and gathered himself.  He took a deep breath and felt his willpower realign with his sense of purpose as a surge of energy straightened his spine and pulled back his shoulders.

He caught Henry’s gaze; saw it full of the same purpose.  Operation Save Emma Whatever It Takes.

“We have to talk to my grandfather.” Henry’s eyes were burning.  “Mr. Gold, he’s–he’s in the asylum.  He’ll know where Emma went.”

 And like a flint cracked against his hook the tiny little spark of hope burst into flame inside Killian’s chest.

 He’d battled a Dark One for centuries, after all–he could find a way to save one.

To love one.

He would find her.  He would always find her.

He would always love her.

Love as a weapon against the Darkness.

 Just as long as there was still an EMMA SWAN to find, and to love.

.

.

[sapphicscholar]

4, 7, 8, 10

Ooh fun, thank ya!

4. are there any shows you wish could just be cancelled already?

I feel like I let a lot of shows that are still ongoing that I don't care for I've simply let...drop off my radar, so I don't really know! I do think there's been a tendency to let shows that still have viewers go on way longer than they should to the detriment of their storytelling :/

7. have you ever been inspired to start a new show based on gifs or memes it has produced?

All the time! That post about how no advertising will ever be effective as a mutual's new obsession was so accurate haha! Most recently Hacks, since I didn't have HBO and had no idea it was coming out until I saw a couple posts about it

8. do you prefer week-to-week content, or just binging all in one go?

Ooh I like them both but for different kinds of shows (and what I get out of them through different modes of viewing)! I think binge-watching is great for shows that have been very self-consciously weaving season-long threads that are easiest to follow when viewed back-to-back (even if not all in one go, at least without the interruption of watching other shows that might be on a weekly schedule as well). It helps me get a sense of a show's long arc game, which can be helpful for writing long fics, too! But week-to-week content can be really lovely for dwelling with single episodes and the questions they leave, thinking more in depth about specific moments and their implications (great for one-shots and canon divergence fics - the kind of "where could this have gone?" fics). I think some shows have gotten weaker at single episodes with the rise of streaming and binge-watching. When writers are thinking about their show as something to be binged, I think sometimes they don't give as much thought about the viewing experience of an episode in isolation, which means that sometimes the week-to-week watching model can feel less satisfying

10. what’s one show you thought you’d love but turned out to really hate?

Oh I'm trying to remember! There was something my wife and I tried watching just recently after hearing good things and couldn't even make it through the whole first episode... In any case, I will say one not show in its entirety but a season where I was super let down was Why Women Kill season 2. I really loved season 1 - it wasn't perfect, but it was campy and fun, and I loved the interweaving of the three timelines (and the cinematography in the last episode? So good!). But then season 2 was so, so bad. I knew the characters, cast, and plots would obviously be different for an anthology series, but it was also tonally a 180 shift, and the writing took such a downturn. I have lots of specific complaints, but I won't spill more ink on that than I already have in some people's DMs hahah

Questions from this TV ask meme!