#silly little thing I’m posting while I work on writing an actual fic

[hyugaruma]

Binzo: Texting HCs

♡

• :3 is his go-to

• He’ll randomly send the thumbs up emoji for no apparent reason

• Sends you a picture of a cool stick he found

• Buttdials constantly because he forgets to lock his phone

• Uses his pointer finger to type instead of his thumbs

• :3

• Sometimes forgets to reply but he always feels really bad about it afterwards; he just gets distracted easily

• Blurry photo that he accidentally took and sent

• Your contact photo is a picture he snuck of you while you were eating; it’s not the most flattering but he loves it

• :3

[floralcyanide]

― 𝐛𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 (𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲)

request: car sex with carmy you and Carmy come back together, physically and romantically.

↝ pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: smut (mdni!), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), car sex, semi-public sex, nipple play, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smoking, past relationship, exes to lovers, language

↝ word count: ~2.8k

↝ author's note: I finally got the urge to write and actually put forth the effort to write, and I think this is my best fic in a while lol. I hope ya'll enjoy this, I enjoyed writing it.

based on Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away) by Deftones

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

“This town don’t feel mine. I’m fast to get away.”

Carmy usually despises parties.

But Claire begged Carmy to join her at her best friend’s party, and of course, he said yes. He’d do anything for Claire, really. Even if it meant he had to deal with people from high school who definitely didn’t remember him, loud music, and rowdy drunkards- it didn’t really matter whether Carmy cared or not. He’d even do something like this for you, even though you also weren’t a major fan of parties. But Carmy tries not to think about you right now. It’s one major reason why he was with Claire to begin with. He couldn’t have you. It’s silly, Carmy thinks, and also kind of fucked, but he was tired of being lonely all the time. 

Carmy stands in the corner, nursing a cup of beer that he’s barely drunk and doesn’t plan on finishing, watching as Claire comforts her best friend on the couch. A few people wave or smile at him, and he returns the favor, but he isn’t really into the gathering like everyone else. If Carmy is honest, he’d rather be at home right now. Claire’s best friend hurriedly gets up to take a phone call- probably from her ex- much to Claire’s dismay. But she doesn’t have a moment to get up to go after her or even sit back down on the couch fully before a random guy approaches her. Carmy furrows his eyebrows, watching the conversation carefully and with close attention. It’s the only interesting thing that has happened at this party so far. 

A few moments pass without anything remotely going on between Claire and the rando. She hasn’t even so much as glanced back at Carmy, who is watching the two of them like a hawk. Claire seems to know who this person is, so she doesn’t shy away. The guy leans in to whisper something in her ear, and she laughs, but he doesn’t pull away from her. In fact, he lingers and presses a kiss to the spot behind her ear. Claire doesn’t seem to be negatively phased by it either, and Carmy feels ice in his bones. So much for trying something with Claire after all these years. Perhaps she knew Carmy's true intentions. But still, he can’t ignore the sting of hurt he feels in his chest. No matter how much he tries to down the disgusting beer in an attempt to numb himself fully, to no avail. He even wanders to the kitchen, where the harder stuff is, pouring something clear and strong into the red solo cup he had, right to the brim. Carmy chugs it with a wince before going outside for a smoke. It seems to have worked a little to calm his racing thoughts. He’s seated on the stoop, fishing out his pack of cigarettes, when a memory of you crosses his mind. A memory of you kissing him behind his ear just like that guy kissed Claire. 

You. Carmy inhales deeply, allowing a ribbon of smoke to escape his lips as he tries to push his hurt and anger aside. He pulls out his phone.

Can you do me a favor?

He stares at the screen, waiting for you to reply to his text. It’s quite late now, but Carmy knows you’ll likely be awake. 

What’s up?

Carmy’s heart picks up at your fast response.

Can you come get me from this address? I’ll explain when you get here.

Carmy can already see the confused look you’re going to give him when you pull up to the house to see a party going on, and him be there. But stranger things have happened. Things like you and Carmy almost working out at one time. 

Sure. See you in a few.

Carmy had left for New York City, ultimately leaving you behind in Chicago. It had hurt him to do that to you, but it was for the best at the time. You took it hard but knew Carmy had to leave the city. So, you moved on. But no other person you had dated or tried dating was like Carmy. You looked for him in every person, every dish, every place you’d go. Whether it was the park or the grocery store, you found yourself subconsciously searching for Carmy there. Until one day, you found him. It wasn’t long after the news broke that Michael had passed. You still frequented The Beef quite often, as you had grown up with the Berzattos throughout school and remained friends with them in adulthood. You walked in and saw Carmy floundering in the back, yelling out orders and looking like the embodiment of stress. He had stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted you in the doorway. You reconnected with a cup of coffee, caught up, and, after a few months of casual texting, are now okay friends. It’s described as okay because, well, you wish it were more. But you have restrained yourself from talking about relationship stuff with Carmy, and he has taken that as you not being interested. Which isn’t true, but he doesn’t know that. He has always thought you were too good for him, anyway.

Carmy is finishing up the cigarette when you pull up. Claire has yet to make an appearance, and Carmy figures she’s busy with that guy. How disappointing. He puts out the cigarette with his foot as he stands up on the stoop, jogging over to your passenger side door. You give him a funny look as Carmy opens the door, just as he had expected you to. He sighs without a word- he’ll explain later.

“Any place in particular you wanna go?” you ask, automatically assuming it’s best not to ask questions right now based on Carmy’s mood.

“I don’t care where, just far.”

You end up driving to the outskirts of the city to some abandoned parking lot, tucked away behind a large building. It’s pretty private and dark despite a few straggling streetlamps.

“Care to explain why you were at a party of all places?” you ask, finally breaking the nearly hour-long silence, looking over at Carmy as you unbuckle your seatbelt and face him fully.

Carmy laughs humorlessly, rubbing the back of his neck, “The girl I’m- the girl I was seeing- her best friend threw it. I agreed to go to, you know, lift spirits. But the girl kinda got with someone else. So, I decided to leave.”

Carmy absolutely was not going to tell you it was Claire that he was with. In response, you nod slowly, swallowing the ball of awkwardness in your throat. Carmy has a girlfriend? And didn’t tell you? Or rather, had a girlfriend and didn’t tell you? You aren’t sure how to feel about that. You shrug it off.

“That sucks, Carm. I’m sorry.”

Carmy waves a dismissive hand, “It’s whatever. I didn’t really like her that much anyway. I was just trying to uh.” he trails off.

“Trying to what?” you ask, encouraging Carmy to continue.

Carmy fumbles his words, unsure of what to say here, but decides to just tell you. The worst thing you could do is laugh at him, and Carmy knew you wouldn’t do that.

“I was trying to get over you. I’m still not over you.”

You freeze, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I figured you’re over me, and why bother with old stuff, you know?” Carmy shrugs.

“Who said I was over you?”

Carmy’s head snaps up so he can look at you for the first time in over an hour, “What?”

“I’m not over you, Carmy. It’s been a while, but I’ve never gotten past what we had.”

“Oh,” Carmy sniffs.

And here he assumed he couldn’t have you this whole time.

“Yeah,” you run your palms over the steering wheel, now looking ahead, “Looks like we just never moved on, huh?”

“I guess not,” the edge of Carmy’s lips curl into a smile as he plays with his tattooed fingers nervously, “What should we do about that?”

You glance over at Carmy before averting your gaze to the streetlamp ahead, “Oh, I don’t know.”

“Hey,” Carmy whispers, leaning over the console, “Look at me.”

You let your hands fall into your lap before looking over at Carmy, your eyes meeting. You notice how close he’s leaning in. You feel yourself burn from your ears to your chest in embarrassment and want. You’re embarrassed because you’re in your car under Carmy’s thick gaze, but you’re heavy with that feeling of desire. You want him so bad it physically hurts.

“I can think of a few things we could do about it.”

You hum, “Like what?”

Carmy looks around briefly before realizing there’s no one around for a while. He unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs into the backseat, “Come back here, and you’ll find out.”

You swallow a laugh at his brazenness but follow him anyway. You clamber onto his lap, your knees on either side of his hips and your hands pressed to his taut, clothed chest. As you look into Carmy’s eyes again, all your nervousness melts away. A grin finds its way onto your face as the laugh you swallowed earlier bubbles up your throat. Suddenly, you can’t stop laughing. You feel like a kid again.

“What’s so funny?” Carmy asks, your contagious laugh making him also chuckle a little.

“Nothing, it’s just,” you look out of the windows, making sure the coast is clear, “I never thought I’d fuck in the back of my car.”

“Who said we were fucking?” Carmy deadpans, and you are sharply taken aback.

Then, Carmy is the one to start laughing this time, and you roll your eyes, smacking him on his chest, “That wasn’t funny.”

Carmy grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “Is this too high school for you? Cause we can drive an hour back to my place if you need.”

“No,” you huff, “I don’t care where we are, Carm. I just thought it was an interesting place to have sex, is all. At an uh-” you glance behind you at the nearby dumpster, “At a paper plant, especially.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Carmy shakes his head at you, a soft smile on his face.

“Yes, chef,” you chuckle, grabbing both sides of his face and pressing your lips to his gently.

Carmy cradles you with his large hands, his fingers splayed out against your back as he pulls you closer. He moves his attention from your lips to your jaw, where he leaves a trail of kisses along where your neck connects to your ear. In the same spot that you had kissed him all those years before. Carmy smiles against your skin. He travels further down your neck, tugging at the hem of your t-shirt, which you pull off and toss into the front seat behind you. Carmy leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones and chest as his hands wander along your naked sides, gripping the fat of your hips through your sweatpants. You sigh in contentment before moving to remove Carmy’s shirt as well. He peels it off his body and over his head in a swift motion, letting it fall behind you somewhere up front. You admire Carmy’s fit body before leaning forward to capture him in another passionate kiss, your hands fumbling to unfasten his jeans. You lift yourself off his lap for him to shove his pants and underwear down his thighs far enough for his legs to comfortably spread slightly. While hovering over Carmy’s lap, you take the opportunity to pull down your own garments, kicking them off on the floorboards. Carmy discards your bra too, while he’s at it. And now you’re completely naked and vulnerable in the backseat of your car. 

You grasp Carmy’s hard length in your hand, swirling the precum around his tip with your thumb. Carmy reaches a hand underneath you, softly testing how wet you are. He smirks when he finds you’re fairly turned on already just from kissing.

“What can I say? I missed you,” you tease.

“Did you miss my fingers, too?” Carmy asks as he delves one into your entrance.

“Yes,” you breathe out, squeezing Carmy in your hand.

Carmy groans at the feeling of you slowly jerking him as he hooks his finger inside you. He adds another pretty quickly, considering how welcoming your cunt is for him. Carmy maintains eye contact with you. His normally icy blues are now like a dark ocean. You pull Carmy’s fingers out from you, replacing them with the tip of his length. 

“Fuck,” he shudders as you push yourself onto him inch by inch, your cunt all but sucking him in graciously.

With a few rocks of your hips and Carmy’s slow guidance, you manage to seat yourself fully, your thighs now flush against his hips. Carmy traces the outline of your bottom lip with his thumb before letting you take it into his mouth. You suck on it, gathering as much spit as you could muster. Carmy removes it from your mouth and then places it on your clit, where he rubs slow circles as you begin to move your hips. You feel him drag against your walls as you move up nearly off his cock, only to drop yourself back down in a swift motion. You cry out in pleasure, and Carmy groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your hip harshly. You gain a nice pace, bouncing on his length as he meets you in the middle with his thrusts. Carmy speeds up his assault on your clit, his eyes either focusing on yours or your breasts bouncing in his face. He switches it up every few minutes.

“It feels so good to have you back inside me, Carm,” you bite your lip, grasping his shoulders for leverage as you start fucking him even faster.

“Glad to hear it,” Carmy jokes, his voice nearly failing him as your walls clench around him.

He bucks his hips into you a little faster, trying to keep up with you. At this point, your arousal is seeping down your thighs and onto Carmy’s. You hope it doesn’t make its way to our seats, but also, you feel too good to even care. Carmy moves his hand from your hip to grasp your breast, tweaking your already attentive nipple. You hiss at the sensation, rolling your hips in a new pattern, Carmy hitting the perfect spot inside you now. That familiar feeling of warm tightness is forming in your lower belly as your thighs burn from exertion. Carmy feels you growing tighter around him, and he rubs figure eights into your clit, causing you to yelp. You’re now gasping for air as you lose yourself in the feeling of pleasure. Carmy lets go of your breast to hold you down on his lap so he can fuck up into you, your orgasm now teetering on the edge. He hits that spot again, sending you into a wave of bliss. You cum hard around Carmy, the gripping of your cunt crashes him into his own orgasm.

You let out a string of incoherent curses as you ride it out, pleasure rolling throughout your body. You collapse into Carmy’s chest, and he weakly runs his fingers through your hair. You both catch your breath, and you finally pull off of Carmy slowly. Pulling one of the backseats down, you search for a towel or extra hoodie you have in your trunk to clean up with. Finally, an old hoodie of Carmy’s, oddly enough, appears from under the spare tire. You snatch it and wipe up the two of you, and Carmy, of course, has to make a comment about the garment.

“Just be grateful I had it. It can always be washed,” you snort, getting redressed.

The windows are all fogged up now, you realize. So, you climb back into the front seat and turn on the heat. It’s cool outside now, making the inside of the car a little cold now that you’ve come to your senses, and the warmth is welcoming. Carmy gets back into the passenger side after getting his pants pulled back up, taking his shirt from the seat and pulling it over his head. After you both get adjusted and buckled back in, you burst into laughter.

“Some party, huh?” you joke, and Carmy rolls his eyes.

“That dumbass party is the reason we’re here now, so I’d take it as a win.”

“I hate parties.”

“I know you do.”

You both share a longing look before you put the car in gear, “Now, where to?”

[elodieunderglass]

It's not really my business, but honestly it feels like it would be advisable to hire a copyright lawyer. Like I don't feel like you're in it for the money, but it might be gratifying to have the guy milking your idea at least have to formally acknowledge you. I think I'd do it just for the peace of mind to know if I've been "legally" wronged or not. Either way, hope you continue to inspire, and live out a peaceful life.

(In reference to this post about the guy who pretends to have invented “Elder Teletubbies,” specifically how he is now kickstarting DnD minis of them.)

Ha, well, it’s all a little tricky I think. I might, hilariously, post on the r/legaladvice Reddit (even though they’re all cops lol) because the only thing I want here is for him to stop selling my “transformative work,” and ideally to stop pretending he invented it (which might be difficult as he appears to fully believe his work is creatively independent.)

I think if anything, my post counts as protected commentary or a transformative work of BBC’s Teletubbies, and I think it’s stinky to profit on that stuff in general (like I’m 190% okay with buying LotR fanart on stickers ! but I wouldn’t dream of trying to publish a fic with the serial numbers filed off. Why?)

I think ultimately I’m not a grifter, I’m a grownup, and I think it’s several levels of eye roll to sell fanart of a tv show on this level. I would be embarrassed to touch money made on that. I’m too fucking scrupulous and artisanal. I have toyed with a silly original novel for funsies since 2019 but keep saying things like, “oh, people will think this is too similar to something else that already exists” as if a silly original novel I write for fun has to somehow pass a Bar of Originality higher than anything salary-writers aim for.

I’m also pretty anti-intellectual-property myself in that leftist sense where I don’t believe people should be acting as if creative works are, like, oil. Like the resource extraction angle of intellectual property freaks me out, I don’t think getting super high-horse and snotty about Magical Brain Property is entirely compatible with the artisanal temperament I personally got going on here. I am like snufkin about this, simply smoking a pipe and making a flower crown saying “poor fools! Producing works for market, and serving as the guard dogs of the market, lest their work lose value if it becomes more common!” I do not have a high horse. I am not going to post 6900 words about the importance of defending fucking… Mickey Mouse. I buy those lotr stickers on Etsy! I do have a horse, but it’s a pretty low horse.

If it was his own work I would not care about this guy doing this in the least (apart from loftily calling it stinky - but hey, nerds are common and nerds are stinky, it’s not rare) IF he wasn’t STEALING FROM MY ANTI-COMMERCIALISATION DREAM TO DO IT.

That’s the bit that PISSES ME OFF too much to ignore: that and accepting compliments for being original like 😌 yes my twisted mind did this idk lol.

Like if you asked him point blank about the artistic choices he’d be like idk my twisted mind just sees the Teletubbies this way teehee! but if you ask ME why, for example, the adult Teletubbies live in the forest I’ll explain that in 2017 I was at a major life crossroads and this dream was ABOUT that. It was goodbye to my identity as a foreigner from the pine forests, and full steam ahead to settling permanently in the fucking shire (where the baby teletubbies on the bbc show live). It was about going back to work having had my first child, and saying goodbye to my various career dreams for myself (famous scientist! Published author!) as I chose instead, finally, the responsibility of working humbly as a public servant for the actual good of society. It is about witnessing the wild and saying “I am not of it, but it is my job to be its witness and voice.” That’s why the adult Teletubbies are dancing in my native forests while I’m watching them from the English hills. This guy doesn’t know that he just vaguely heard “spooky forest cryptid” and didn’t develop it at all, I do more work than that with FANFICTION in my time off!!!

So it’s really about nebulous stuff and ethics and not something worth paying a lawyer for I think!

But thank you so much for this, I think the thing that gets most perennial about it is the TOTAL GASLIGHTING of the “outside world” of the rest of the internet like, fully believing they invented this, and they DIDNT. They’re so wrong on the internet and they don’t know

[fairestwriting]

Hey hey! First off, I love your writing. It’s really fun and silly and skrunkly, which is also why I wanted to send in a request!

I wanted to ask for an Idia x reader comfort type thing? For context, a game I love is currently doing a rerun banner for a costume I really really want. I saved for a year to try and get it because I failed last time and, low and behold, I didn’t get it now either

I do still have time before the banner’s over but it’s just kinda disheartening after I tried to save for so long and still didn’t get the costume (especially cause I’m f2p)

The actually scenario doesn’t have to be this specific but I feel like, if anyone were to understand my plight, it would be Idia

Hope you’re doing well :))

thank you sm :'3 i realized only when i was done with this that it shouldve been a scenario/fic type post... that ones gonna be in the works for tomorrow cause i was doing another hc/scenario hybrid before i got to this one oops .

also i understand you so deeply im also f2p in everything i play and not getting your special little guy or the costume for them is. SO much more painful than it has the right to be what the hell 😭

Idia Shroud

He's definitely been in your shoes, maybe even recently. He does spend on his favorite gachas every now and then, but with the amount of games he plays and the speed at which banners come out, he can't just sink all his money into gacha currency. Besides gacha, there's also new game releases and DLCs after all! And it feels better if you actually earn your win, too.

It goes without saying that he's going to be hyping you up before your pulls, whether through messages or live, and that you'll be exchanging screenshots with each other too, so he knew how much you were looking forward for this one banner. He's made it known he's your biggest supporter.

Even if it's not something he also plays, he feels the loss when you're all out of pulls, and the character you were hoping for never comes. He's not really the best at comfort in general, that applies both over text and in person, but you know he understands the feeling.

He reaches for you a little awkwardly, depending on what it looks like you want to do about it. What would it be better to offer? Encouragement for reruns, or ingame currency for a few more pulls? He wonders nervously while he tries to pick whatever looks better for your case. If he happens to have the character that you wanted he'll actually apologize and definitely offer a few extra pulls.

Honestly, he finds that it feels even more sad than the times he fumbled his pulls. He'll scour the internet for any talk of reruns and send it to you within the hour, and if he finds none, he's always here to commiserate.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[lainiespicewrites]

Dreamless sleep

I mentioned in a reblog a few days ago that I sometimes write little oneshots about Henry to comfort myself when shit situations happen. Well I left work today and my car wouldn't start and... I've been struggling with remembering something really difficult that happened to me and I needed a comfort fic. This is that.... I don't normally post them but I wanted to share this one.

Warnings: Mentions of SA possible trigger.

summary: waking up from a nightmare and having a rough day. Henry is always there to help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I watched the door shake.  The man on the other side determined to break in.  If he got through, he was going to hurt me again. Not that he would ever admit it. My attacker had spent just moments before trying to convince me I had asked for it. Like what he did to me was nothing more than him fulfilling my desires. Bile rose in the back of my throat from the thought. 

“Go away, Luke! I told you I won’t say anything to anyone! Just leave me alone!” But he didn’t stop. I watched the door knob turn as I looked around my childhood bedroom searching for something to barricade the door. Trying to find anything to keep him out. My strength would not hold much longer. One more shove and he would be inside. I wouldn’t be able to escape him. Just like the last time. As I’m reaching for a chair to press against the door, I stumble. I fall to the floor and the door swings open… 

I woke with a start shooting straight up gasping for breath. My heart was racing and I let out a whimper as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I flinched as I felt a gentle hand touch my hip. 

“Darling it’s me, it’s okay.” Henry’s soothing voice broke through my panic. It was a dream. Only, a dream. I swallowed hard and looked out the window. It was storming, the sky was still gray, I looked over at the clock 6:25 my alarm was about to go off, 

“Sorry, go back to sleep baby, it was just a bad dream. I’m okay.” I assured him. Henry sat up. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and placed a soft kiss on my head. 

“You’re sure? He asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” I shook my head. I hadn’t told him about what happened to me. And as far as I was concerned he didn’t need to know. It was in the past. I was fine. It was rare that I had these dreams. 

“No bear, It was silly, just go back to sleep, I need to get up and get ready,” I told him. He took in a deep breath. He still held me close for a moment before hesitantly letting go of my waist. 

“Alright, love,” When I got out of bed I turned and kissed him softly. He looked so tired. He’d gotten back so late from set. I hate that I’d woken him up. 

“I’ll see you later,” I smiled. He sat up giving me another kiss. 

“Have a good day baby,” He said. I slipped out of my bedroom and took a quick shower. I quickly got dressed for the office and left. I picked up a coffee on the way to work. I splashed some on my shirt leaving a small stain. It wasn’t completely obvious but I knew it was there. This would happen today I hate Mondays. Things were in full swing, actually, busy. When I got there. I sat down and tried to focus on my work. But I couldn’t get anything done. All I could think about was that dream. 

Lunch rolled around and I realized I’d left it at home. I didn’t want to bother Henry. He hadn’t had a day to himself in a while. So I was just going to pick something up. I ran to the little convenience store down the road and got a little snack. It was much but it would hold me over until the end of the day. 

The rest of the day was so busy. So many emails and the work just kept piling up. It was non-stop. I was so ready to get back to my place and spend the evening with Henry. I walked out to my car and put the key in the ignition and… it didn’t start. I tried it again… nothing. How could this happen? It ran perfectly fine on lunch. God, I was just tired and hungry and I want to get home! I’ve spent the whole day reminded of this terrible thing I’d gone through, and now this? Today sucked! I sighed and pulled out my phone. I was going to have to call Henry. I tapped his name and the phone rang. After the second ring, he picked up. 

“Hey, babe, you on you’re way back?” He asked. I sighed again. 

“No,” I said flatly. “My car won’t start I don’t know what’s wrong, the engine won’t even try to turn over.” I rambled. I could hear myself starting to hyperventilate. 

“Slow down, breathe. I’ll be right there.” He promised. In 10 minutes he was pulling up next to my car. We tried to jump it but that did nothing. I sighed and slammed the door. “Whoa, hey, it’s gonna be alright we’ll get it fixed, love,” Henry said grabbing my shoulders gently and making me face him. I felt my lip start to wobble. I didn’t want him to see me cry. In all honesty, we hadn’t been together that long. He hadn’t seen me break down and I wasn’t ready for him to. What if I was too much? What if he didn’t want me anymore?

“I-i’m sorry, today has just been… stressful. I was looking forward to getting home and spending time with you.” I said. 

“And you’re going to, we’ll leave the car here I’ll have it looked at in the morning. Let's get back and relax my love.” Henry drove us home. I shuffled inside, quickly changing into comfy clothes. After spending a while trying to fix the car it had gotten a bit late so we decided to order in. Henry ordered dinner while I got cozy on the couch. We ate our Chinese takeout and binged a new Netflix series. My mind wandered not fully paying attention. Getting lost in the dream from this morning. I was staring blankly at a spot on the wall, I didn’t hear Henry say my name. He shook my shoulder and I yelped. His brow raised and his eyes filled with concern, and something that almost looked like hurt. 

“What’s going on with you today love?” He asked. I snapped. 

“What do you mean? Nothings going on everythings fine!” I said. He sat back looking at me from a sideways glance. 

“You’ve been on edge all day,” He stated. 

“You haven’t even been with me all day,” I rolled my eyes. 

“Is something bothering you?” He asked. I groaned. 

“Fucking hell, would you just drop it Henry? I told you, I’m fine!” I shouted. Henry ran a hand through his hair and groaned in frustration. 

“I’m just trying to help,” He sighed. 

“Yeah, well I didn’t ask, I’m not some helpless damsel you need to save!” I argued. 

“I never said that!” he groaned. “But you’ve been stressed since you woke up this Morning.” He stated. 

“So?” I deflected, clearly agitated.  

So… who’s Luke?” He asked his voice calm. My stomach dropped. How did he know that name?

“I don’t know what your talking about…” I said shifting my eyes to the floor. 

“Alayna, when you were having your nightmare, you… said his name, asking him to stop. Who is he?” He asked again. I swallowed hard. I kept my eyes on the floor hidingn the tears that had started to well up. 

“No one, must’ve just been a name my brain came up with.” I lied. 

“Come on,” he pleaded. “I know you don’t think I’m that stupid.” He said. I looked up at him, eyes meeting his. He was hurt. Hurt that I was shutting him out. 

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all, I just… don’t want you to think I … to think less of me.” I sniffled. Henry brushed my hair out of my face and brushed his thumb across my cheek. 

“Talk to me, I want to understand.” He said. “Whatever is, I just want to help you,” he stated. I nodded. 

“He… is…was a friend of my brothers.” I started. “They were friends since they were kids, I new him since I was a baby.” I explained. Henry nodded. Keeping his hand on my back silently supporting me. I went on. “I thought I could trust him. I was so naive. He always seemed like a good guy. He came to town to celebrate my brothers birthday. And they came back drunk. He woke me up. Because he wanted to say hi. I got up to talk with them and when we went back to bed he… got into my bed. I thought he was joking at first. I thought he was gonna leave.” I looked at Henry. His face was calm, but I knew that he knew what I was going to say. I didn’t miss the anger in his eyes. But he stayed quiet. Letting me get it all out. “He was like a brother to me. I-I don’t know how he could touch me like that. But… I couldn’t do anything. It was wrong, it was so wrong but I was like frozen with fear or shock I don’t know. I know that I told him no. Once. something he wanted to do … I finally was able to find my voice but. It didn’t matter. The next morning he acted like nothing happened. I never said anything. I never pressed charges…nothing. It was years ago. In my dream I confronted him. He told me I couldn’t prove it. He wouldn’t own up to it. I yelled at him. And he tried to convince me I wanted it.. And he…he tried to come after me again.” I cried. Henry quickly wrapped me up in his arms pulling me into him. “That’s when I woke up.” I said.  I cried against Henry’s shoulder while he held me. He gently cooed in my ear as if consoling a baby. But it helped. It was the comfort I needed. The shoulder to cry on I never really had. He was quiet for a while. Letting me have this moment and then. 

“You know, none of that, is your fault.” He said. His voice soft. 

“But I.. let him.” I said. His jaw ticked. Trying to remain calm for me. 

“No, he may not have been violent or mean or angry. But he still forced you. He was bigger than you. You had no choice. But to let him do what he wanted. I can’t imagine the pain you’ve felt carrying this for so long. But I won’t let you do it alone anymore.” He said. 

“You don’t have to,” I sniffed. 

“The bastard is lucky he’s still breathing. He may not live anywhere near you but if he ever comes within a mile of you he’s a dead man.” He growled. 

“I’m sorry, about…” I started staring at the ground. 

“Look at me,” He cupped my face pulling my eyes back to his. “ I don’t care about some little argument. Or a stressful evening. I care about your wellbeing, your safety, and your peace of mind. There may not be much we can do about what happened. But I can help you feel safer, I can help you feel protected. That’s what matters. Let me care for you. Don’t be too proud to let me help you.” he pleaded.  I nodded. I was exhausted. Today had been so hard. I didn’t have the energy to be guarded anymore. 

“Okay,” I said. 

“You need rest love, you look exhausted.” He said softly. I nodded laying my head against his shoulder. Henry carried me to bed and I immediately curled myself around him. He smiled softly. 

“As long as I breathe. He will never, get to you,” He said softly. I nodded my breathing slowly as I listened to his heart beat. Henry softly stroked my hair and I felt my eyes lids get heavy. 

“Get some sleep darling, I’ll be right here,” he promised. My eyes closed and everything faded to black. And for the first time in a long time. I had a dreamless sleep. I was safe. Now. Truly safe. I didn’t have to fight this alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't feel like this is my best work but it is honest... I'm gonna add my taglist here but you so don't have to read it! if you do thank you! It's just away of me getting all my emotions out. Y'all are like my online emotional support group <3

@foxyjwls007

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@summersong69

@carrie80reads 

@identity2212 

@caramariehurst 

@redheadrouge 

@warriormirkwood  

@gummydummy19 

@deandoesthingstome

 @shellyshellshell

@mary-ann84 

@starfirewildheart 

@henryownsme

@mollymal

@wa-ni

@toooldforobsessions

@pono-pura-vida

@Chloeforde

@liecastillo

@mrsevans90

@evie-119

@margauxmargaux07

@thearcana-moonlight

@secretdream2

@wtfdudesblog

@juliaorpll78

@nothingbettertosay81

[valence-gnome-bandit]

I'd love to know your thoughts on Homelander with a younger girlfriend (like early/mid 20s). Someone who's very out there, not really afraid to put up a fight and be stubborn with him, even though she knows who he is and what he can do. She just kinda has this trust, this gut feeling that he won't hurt her.

Ik we've seen him with starlight, who’s younger, but that's not like... real. Like… someone who has genuine, strong feelings for him. Would he take her seriously, since she’s so young? Or would he kinda write her off as like, “you’re too young to know what love is blah blah blah”?

But that aside, *in* the relationship, I need to know how homelander takes to younger gf showing him like *actual* funny memes. Like… I’m talking blorbo from my shows… little meow meow… funny tiktoks, all while trying her BEST to keep him away from the a*drew t*te and the sigma male grindset rsector of the internet.

I absolutely love this, mainly because that's litterly what the fic I'm working on is about because my character is in her 20s!

he would absolutely love it, just like we see with stormfront he loves women who can hold their own and combined with the utter gal the younger generation has he would absolutely love it. he wouldn't have to worry if they can hold their own the only down side is dinner arguments where it would just be back and forth of "well what do you want?"

as for things like "your to young to really understand that" I don't think he would I feel like he'd be down with it all and if there were something that his young partner would need guidance on he would be absolutely happy to provide it! having a partner that loves him like he loves them would be absolutely wonderful nothing but affection and I love you mores.

as for social media it's obviously managed but I can't stop thinking about the way he would absolutely post like the 45 year old man he is. like pictures of Ryan's Lego builds, his girlfriend, and whatever silly thing he saw online. with him preventing him from getting into the alpha male sphere would be like trying to keep a dog away from a steak, he enjoys podcasts like randy marsh enjoys food Network. but I'm sure that once it's explained how stupid it is he would get over it not to mention he's the role model for that kinda thing one tweet from him against it all would make a*ndrew t*te cry.

also with internet lingo I could see I'm inevitably saying something like slay or ate after hearing his partner say it a lot. he would also love watching edits of himself. he might not understand it all but he's enjoying it he thinks it fun.

also Ryan is at the age where he needs to be kept away from skibbidi toilet at all costs homelander would be horrified 😭

[spacebabesuki]

Ok, I know it’s silly, so bear with me, but I’m genuinely over the moon about hitting 500 views and 36 kudos in just one week on my first-ever work on AO3.

I’ve been writing Hellcheer on Brazilian platforms for nearly three years now, and while I somehow ended up with the most-read fic in the category—not because it’s the best (it’s far from that), but simply because I had the luck of being the first to write about Hellcheer there—I’ve always been absolutely terrified of writing in English since it’s not my native language. Honestly, I’ve been toying with the idea of posting on AO3 since 2022, but every time I’d get too scared, convinced it would turn out bad or full of mistakes, so I’d just abandon the thought.

Knowing that people are actually reading it, even now in 2025, with the ship nearly forgotten 😭—and seeing them leave so many thoughtful, kind comments while asking for more of this chaotic, unhinged story—makes me feel so, so grateful and genuinely happy. <3

And I’m so sorry for the emotional mess—I’m just a girl doing something silly that she’s wanted to do for over 3 years but only just now found the courage to try, at not exactly the best time, but yayyyy!

And if you haven’t read it yet, here’s the chaotic mess I’m talking about:

Ah, the summer of 1988... warm winds in the air, the sun burning high, and laughter spilling out of the fun fair. Ice cream dripping down sticky fingers, lollipops melting under the unforgiving heat. Girls in short skirts and cowboy boots, popcorn salt mingling with the sugary pull of candy. Bon Jovi on the radio, beer cans cracking open, milkshakes shared between glossy lips.

It was the kind of summer that felt too perfect to last.

And, well... it didn’t.

A string of brutal murders begins to haunt the town, each victim tied by one thing: they were high school royalty, the so-called "kings" who ruled the halls with arrogance and cruelty. And then there’s Chrissy Cunningham—queen of short skirts, killer smiles, and, apparently, next on the masked murderer’s list.

...

Or basically, it’s a story where he’s the killer, she’s his little victim... or maybe not? Hmm, hard to say. There’s a lot of blood, cowboy boots, and questionable choices.

[f1-stuff]

You mentioned omegaverse in the surreal DC reblog where he’s commenting far too much on Charles’s smell lol and it made me wonder if you’ve ever considered writing omegaverse Charlos? Do you have any interest or not so much your thing?

Love your work <33333

Hello! ❤️ I didn't used to be into omegaverse very much tbh, but something clicked in the last couple years and I started to vibe with it a lot more. I actually did start to write an abo charlos fic, that's also a Victorian-era royalty arranged marriage situation (woo that's a mouthful 😂), but I haven't added much to it in a while...

The funny thing is that I find myself forgetting it's abo while writing bc there's so much else going on, and then I have to throw in a line about someone's scent asghfjlslsdk. But anyway, I'm gonna share a little more of it now just because I feel like it's been a while since I posted a fic or a snippet...

“Charles.”

Impatience has crept into his mother’s voice by the second utterance of his name, and yet Charles still takes the time to finish the page he’s reading before clapping the (dreadfully boring) book shut and looking up at her expectantly. As usual, she doesn’t look particularly amused by his stubbornness.

“Charles, I was thinking that perhaps you and I should stay away from the palace for an additional month or so.”

“What?” he frowns. “Why?”

“To rest,” she suggests. “It’s been a very tough week, and you still don’t look well-”

“Maman,” he sighs, rubbing his temple where a headache is starting to form. Of course, he won’t tell her that. “I feel fine. And I’m ready to go home. We already missed Uncle’s birthday. We are not missing Papa’s.”

His mother doesn’t reply. It’s not the first time she’s brought it up, and it won’t be the last, but Charles isn’t losing this particular argument. Not even if he has to escape back to the palace himself. A week away from his father in his poor condition is already too much to bear, let alone the prospect of more time apart.

Charles and his mother’s retreat to their country residence had been unavoidable. The ‘very tough week’ in question is Charles’ heat, which had been brought on early due to the stress he's been under, caused by his numerous advisors' renewed efforts as of late to convince him to sign the regency order. No doubt they’ll be hoping that now, weakened by five days of fever and delirium, he’ll feel further compelled to relinquish his power to a regent in the event of his father’s death before he’s come of age.

It’s never going to happen, and his mother doesn’t need to try to protect him by hiding him away for a month either. She, along with everyone in that damned palace, treats him delicately enough as it is. Ever since he’d presented around eleven years old, he’s been wrapped in cotton wool. But just because he’s an omega doesn’t mean he isn’t perfectly capable of standing up for himself. In fact, he can’t wait to be free of the silly protective measures that were put in place almost seven years ago. The moment he’s crowned, he’s doing away with all of it.

“Really, Charles. I hope you’re not upset we had to come here. You know that it’s for your own safety-”

“Yes, maman, I know,” he interrupts, then sighs and aims a small smile her way to soften his exasperated tone. “I’m not arguing that. But I don’t need any more time to recover. It isn’t as though I do much more than this in the palace, anyway.”

Reading books, painting, playing piano and chess - there isn’t much more that he’s allowed to do. The other activities that his brothers partake in, like horse riding and archery, aren’t permitted for him, nevermind that he performed them just fine before he’d presented. That argument has never worked to convince anyone to grant him allowances because it’s not really about whether he’s capable.

“Well...if you’re certain.”

“I am,” he says, firmly. His mother nods.

Good. That’s settled, then. She speaks again before he has a chance to reopen his book.

“The other thing I’ve been meaning to discuss with you - your uncle has invited the Sainz siblings to come and stay at the palace. You met their two eldest when you were very young, but I’m sure you don’t remember.”

“No,” Charles confirms, intrigued. “Who are they?”

“Their father is a Spanish duke, and his son, Prince Carlos, is just a few years older than you. Unlikely that he will ever inherit the throne, but it is a distant possibility.”

Ah. So a marriage prospect, then. Charles bites back a sigh. From one prison to another.

“You should get to know him better,” his mother says, reading his expression.

“Why?” he asks, just to be difficult. He knows very well why.

“Because. Your Uncle Thierry thinks it’s a good idea.”

Well, if his uncle thinks it, then so it shall be.

Charles sinks further into his chair, grabbing the book he’d set aside and reopening it pointedly. His mother takes the hint. (The book may be a dull one, but at least it serves its purpose as a conversation ender superbly.)

****

“Monaco could be a very important chess piece in future conflicts,” Caco explains, leaning against the table to address his young cousin. “It is under the military protection of France, and having the force of France at our disposal could be instrumental in quelling potential unrest.”

Carlos Junior looks up at him from his seat at the desk, notes of skepticism in his expression. He doesn’t make an objection just yet - his cousin would not be telling him this unless it had come from his father directly.

Caco sets down a piece of paper in front of him. It’s a drawing of a young man who can’t be more than eighteen, his boyish features evident even in sketch form. The other thing that is undeniable is his beauty, a sense of mischief and innocence dancing in his eyes that has Carlos wondering if it’s a faithful representation.

“Is he this pretty in person?”

Caco simply gives him a look, not dignifying that with a response. “That is Prince Charles, heir apparent to the Monegasco throne, seventeen years old. In the next few weeks, you will study everything there is to know about him - his favorite novels, plays, composers. You will brush up on your French-”

“Wait, wait, cousin,” Carlos interjects, blinking in confusion. “What does a prince have to do with me?”

“That omega...” Carlos’ gaze shoots up to his cousin, brows raising. “...has everything to do with you.”

Ah. That changes things, indeed.

“As I was saying,” Caco continues, sighing. “In order to keep the prince safe, he’s been kept sheltered from his father’s court for years, ever since he was a boy. Thus, when he does make a rare public appearance, such as at the opera or ballet, his mere presence causes quite a stir.”

Carlos’ eyes return to the paper in front of him, his gaze tracing a path over the prince’s nose and settling at the elegant curve of his lips.

“You must win his favor before anyone else has the chance,” his cousin says. “The first visit in a few weeks’ time will be vital. We can afford no mistakes. But always remember, you are first and foremost a Sainz. Do not forget the reason behind all of this, no matter how ‘pretty’ his face.”

Carlos tries to bite back his smirk, but likely fails from the look his cousin sends him.

“Charm him, Carlos. Make him smile. God knows you are good at that. The rest will be up to fate.”

[honeyhotteoks]

do you have any advice on like getting better with writing?

hey! i definitely do!! i’ve talked about this before but i have a lot of new readers, so ill start off by saying i’ve been writing for my entire life, and im 30 so thats a lot of years. if you’re a new writer, trust me i used to be there and good god if you guys could see the stuff i published in old fandoms 💀 really, really bad haha

i only say that because i by no means consider myself a great writer, there are fic writers in this space alone that i’m always so floored by and look up to…. but people have been very kind about my writing style and it’s something that took time to develop it’s not something i just ��had”. outside of fic, i was a literature and creative writing major, and got very used to writing and workshopping pieces.

now! onto some actual advice —

1. read a lot and read more, but read stuff you actually like and not stuff you feel pressured to read. i love high brow litfic as much as the next pretentious english major, but i started writing a ton after reading a bunch of kindle unlimited romance because it was fun and it got me inspired

2. watch well written television for dialogue and pacing. people do not talk in proper english, they don’t say things eloquently, and there’s a lot of filler and fluff. that’s good! that’s real, so i love well written tv to show me how it’s done

3. get comfortable writing in weird ways. for years i used to sit down and be like “ah okay so chapter one” and then i was stuck, stalled out, and just felt bad about the process. when i started writing both aurora and tnt, i started in the middle. i had an image of a scene in my mind (for tnt it was actually the claim attempt) and i just wrote it out and then bounced around later

4. outlines are your friend! sometimes i’ll get a random line of dialogue in my head or an image but that doesn’t mean i’m ready to write it. i throw it in one big outline so i don’t lose it.

5. if you’re wanting to write really good smut i have two suggestions but please only do this to your personal comfort level. this is what works for me but do not make yourself uncomfortable— for good smut, i watch porn for reference and for good dirty talk, i listen to nsfw audio. i like to really write the visuals for smut and make it immersive but lol i haven’t experienced everything ive written about and logistics of the body are hard!! i usually find a video or an audio and let that help guide the imagery im writing.

6. be comfortable with the editing process. i know the temptation to post something the minute you finish it is there, but sleep on it. come back and edit it, read the dialogue out loud if you have to. i swear you’ll make the piece better just by leaving it and coming back.

7. don’t be afraid to post. most people are kind, and the worst thing that will happen is you don’t get a lot of notes. that’s okay, it’s a process.

8. research! as i’m writing anything, even a silly little oneshot, im doing research on something. i am hyper aware that im not korean and have never spoken korean or lived in korea, so for my fic i try my hardest to ground elements of that in reality. i truly cannot tell you how many hours ive spent reading like korean case law on revenge porn just for like 3 lines of dialogue. and you don’t have to go that crazy, i’m arguably too intense, but i do think some of that helps the story and the dialogue feel real.

9. describe something real- every place in my writing is based on something real. every apartment, hotel, cafe, venue, etc., they’re all either something i’ve found online or drawn from my life and use that to my advantage. i use apartment listings and save photographs, i do google map walks to see what neighborhoods look like, anything to get the feel of a place or an experience. for the christmas chapters of aurora, i watched hours of gwangju walking tour videos on youtube while i was writing just to understand how to describe their walk in the snow. it really helps me to have a visual that i can put words to.

10. find your weak points and see what other writers do differently. if you want to improve, you should find a small place to start. is it dialogue? overall plot? smut? etc. - i’ll never forget being on a creative writing retreat, and a very important writing professor said to me “everything you write is very pretty but you haven’t said anything. you have to decide to say something.” that feedback hurt, but sent me down a much better writing path when i realized where i was falling short and not challenging myself.

okay i hope some of this was helpful and if it’s a mess im sorry im on mobile. i really just love writing so deeply and will always talk about it, so i hope this was helpful 💗

[bitchslapblastoids]

so we’re doing the sappy year-end affectionate thing, yeah?

I spent most of my phandom years feeling like a barnacle under a ship that d&p were steering and you were all the actual passengers of. During the time I spent lurking, it felt like fandom culture had changed so drastically that re-entering in any active way would be terrifying. But then I finished writing a phanfic that I’d originally started in 2015. And then I posted it and some people liked it. And meanwhile, I had already been feeling complicated feelings about the lack of engagement with fic and writing across all fandoms. And doubly meanwhile, things just kept getting more and more unhinged in the Dan and Phil universe, and I just wanted to yell about it. So I finally caved, made this blog, and stopped being a hypocrite who whined about how fandom wasnt interactive anymore while I wasn’t actually interacting myself.

The difference between lurking and participating in the ecosystem was that I realized I was a bit wrong. Bc people on here don’t just taketaketake; there is a wonderfully supportive fabric of celebration for creative works, of kindness and warmth towards one another. It’s a small community, but so alive!!

All my weird-kid traits that I keep compartmentalized and tightly managed (read: suffocated) as I cosplay daily as a somewhat normie-adult suddenly had somewhere to thrive and be externalized again. I gained access to this universe that i get to be a tiny cocreator of that is full of delight and silliness and warmth and hilarity. It stood in such contrast to my irl world that has been in flux - moving away from somewhere I loved and people I loved, coping with new peaks of mental illness in my family, building a life in a new city that felt (feels) lonely so lonely, falling victim to my own depressive self isolation habits. but here was an outlet, and suddenly my mind was a creative place to be again. It had been a while since that had been true.

and then tit happened and while I have known for a long time that concerts are the single most euphoric experiences in my life, I’ve always gone alone and anonymous and relished in the presence of unspoken community around me, the experience that feels religious and sacred, sharing in some rapturous devotion to an artist and their music and then all parting ways afterwards. But tit was something new. I’d seen Dan and Phil before, all the times. But never as someone actively embedded in the community enough to actually speak to people. When I bought the tickets, I intended on being fully invisible at my shows. Months later when I actually went, one of the most joyful parts of the experience was all of you, talking to people around me, seeing phannies in the flesh, and yelling on here about it all. It was truly euphoric. When I say it was bouying, I mean it. I felt high for days.

The people I’ve befriended on here or whose ideas and work and vibes I just absorb through their presence on my dash have reminded me how to see beyond the restraints of cookie cutter daily life, how to be radical and loving and how to embrace weirdness and love those parts of yourself, but how to openly love them in other people too; how to signpost that you’re an open recipient for someone’s weird, that their weird is safe around you. Dan and Phil have always done that too, haven’t they?

I started to think about all the people whose brightness and brilliance has touched me in some way on here this year, and the list was immediately too long to even hold in my brain. But probably if you’re reading this, you’re one of those people. Thank you for being around and sharing who you are 🩵

Sometimes I still get a little sad about the level of engagement fic gets vs other creative endeavors on here. But being a part of this renassiance and sharing in a mini writing community within this broader phannie ecosystem has been sooooooooo rewarding. I’m deliriously happy to get to know such an incredibly creative and generous and passionate bunch of humans.

happy 2025 phumblr!! i think we better buckle in for another wild fucking ride. 🧡🧡🧡

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @ghostdeb! Arbeds Ghost (GhostDeb) has 20 fics posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 18 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @ghostdeb:

The Long Walk Home

The Last to Know

Balance Point

Hung Jury

Eternal

"They have a lot of incredible ideas and their writing is original and fun! I always enjoy reading their stories!"

-- anonymous

Below the cut, @ghostdeb answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I blame my dear friend @cheshiredog for getting me to jump head-first into this rabbit hole. The very first Steddie fic I ever read was Devil’s King by @cheshiredog, who had casually mentioned one day that the Stranger Things fanfic they had been working on for a while was completed. At the time (early in 2023) I had never seen a single episode of the show but I was eager to read the piece. As soon as I finished reading, I binged all four seasons (and then SCREAMED and yelled because I had no idea what would happen to Eddie in the Season 4 finale). I was hooked instantly and began reading everything I could get my grubby little paws on. After a while, I decided to try my hand at writing in this world, back in May 2023. And the rest, as they say, is history.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’ll read virtually anything. Truly. But my favorite fics often have healthy doses of angst and resolved conflict. I love the world-building that so many writers in this fandom are capable of achieving, and I’m consistently awed by the level of talent out there.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Hands down, it’s gotta be Idiot 4 Idiot. I love when they’re goofballs. I will almost always make them so.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I will always go back to Black Out Days (Fairground Nights) by @OonionChiver. I have this one on my bookshelf as a bound hardback (as well as almost every other fic in their catalog!) and I will be first in line to devour every single thing she writes. Simply impeccable.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I don’t usually write much angst or hurt/comfort — mostly because I don’t feel that I can really give those tropes the depth required to really land a well-rounded story. But I would like to.

What is your writing process like?

Pretty chaotic, actually. I don’t outline or really put anything on the page until I start typing the first opening lines of the fic. I tend to start with an idea along the lines of ‘wouldn’t it be fun/funny if _ …’ and jump off from there. Once I have a solid few paragraphs I’ll read and re-read and edit as the story takes shape and I find things I want to layer in. So — in short, it’s a bit of a mess.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I always tend to make them silly, and in modern aus, Steve will ALWAYS be a James Bond fan and Eddie will ALWAYS hate Hugh Jackman if I can work it into the flow of things. Those just feel right to me. I love the dynamic the actors gave to these characters and the way they interact with one another on the screen, and it feels like they would have a fun, chaotic kind of relationship if any of this was real. Those relationships are fun to explore, and super fun to be in, so I tend to gravitate toward those common themes in my stuff.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Schedule? I don’t know her. I write pretty chaotically and I like to post pretty much as soon as the chapter (or the one-shot) is finished (or if it’s for an event, as soon as the posting schedule allows).

Which fic are you most proud of?

This is a really tough question — it’s probably going to be Read: 1:13am, to be honest. I love Read: 1:13am because it was so much fun to write as a collaboration with @Malikat22 — we had an absolute BLAST working on it together! It’s just a silly, fun ride — I wrote Eddie’s POV and she wrote Steve’s POV. Just so much fun.

How did you get the idea for Eternal?

I think I was watching random YouTube videos one day and I stumbled across one of the videos of someone restoring an old gravesite. And then I started thinking it would be fun to explore as a Steddie fic — Steve cleaning up the old, dilapidated gravesite of Eddie Munson, suspected murderer who died long before he was born. The idea evolved from there and I just jumped in. I have so many things planned for this one and it’s going to be a huge undertaking to get it completed. I’m really proud of what’s out there so far and I swear I’m working on the next chapter — it’s coming soon.

When writing Hung Jury, what was something you didn’t expect?

I truly was surprised at how long it ended up being. What started as a ‘what if they were sequestered, wouldn’t that be funny?’ kind of idea, which I foolishly thought I could tackle as a one-shot, ended up evolving into a much more detailed, multi-chaptered fic. I love this story so much and I knew what I wanted the big reveal to be almost from the very beginning. I just had to write quite a lot to get there.

What inspired Balance Point?

Oddly enough, whiskey. I am a fan. And one day I heard or read about somebody ordering ‘whiskey neat, on the rocks’ and it made me chuckle, thinking that sounded like somebody who doesn’t drink whiskey too often. And of course I thought it would be funny if Eddie tried that as a means of getting to know Steve. And wouldn’t it be even funnier if Eddie was also underage and he had a truly horrendous fake ID. And then Balance Point was born.

What was your favorite part to write from The Last to Know?

Probably the interview portion - that part was a lot of fun to explore. And the interactions between the besties are always a blast to write.

How do/did you feel writing The Long Walk Home?

This one is definitely one of my favorites. I had so much fun with incorporating the songs and Eddie’s radio show into the story, and I really believe that Eddie would be exactly that type of DJ. You ask, he plays it. I really enjoyed every aspect of this one.

What was the most difficult part of writing Eternal?

Since Eternal is a WIP, I fear that the most difficult parts might still lie ahead for me. But so far, it’s been difficult trying to land on how much of the story to reveal with each new chapter. I’m keeping a lot of it pretty vague for the sake of the plot, and keeping all of the moving parts in order as I write it is a bit of a challenge. Maybe I should try an outline for once in my life …

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

The scenes with Eddie and Chrissy in Hung Jury are my favorites by far. I love when they’re chaotic besties, and the way Chrissy winds him up in that fic is so much fun.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Right now, I have another collaboration WIP called Burdens of Influence (collaborating with @GenVonLee) and we’re really having a lot of fun with it. We’re probably about halfway through at this point, and it’s been great to collaborate. If Steve Harrington as a 1990s London-based supermodel and Eddie Munson as the hot new up-and-coming rockstar sounds appealing, give it a look!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I’m eternally grateful for everyone who gives my stuff a look - it truly means the world! I don’t really consider myself to be a ‘serious’ writer — I truly write things that amuse me — so when someone else enjoys something I’ve put out there it means so much! Thank you so much for reading!

Thank you to our author, @ghostdeb, and our nominator! See more of Arbeds Ghost (GhostDeb)'s works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[aghostnamedcalamity]

Hi Calamity! Got a few questions that pertain to your awesome fanfic. Firstly, how exactly did Joey end up working with Mordecai in the first place. Secondly, how do you think Nicodeme and Serafine would react if they found out that Mordecai has a son. Thirdly, do you think you'll write anymore fanfics with Mordecai and Benjamin.

Helloo! I’m glad to hear you’ve enjoyed the fic! I do hate that it doesn’t have more of the headcanon lore explained in it, at the time it was just a fun little thing I made thinking it wouldn’t garner much attention. But to answer your questions:

1. Joey met him again while working some shifts at Marigold and sort of forced his way into an “friendship”, if you can call it that. After a raid shook him up real good, he left bartending behind but needed money and kept nagging Mordecai to let him borrow some cash. Being in debt to Mordecai, Mordecai forced him to watch Benjamin when the whole mess initially unraveled as repayment. What was supposed to be a temporary arrangement turned into a prolonged one after Mordecai got a bit attached.

2. Ooof how do I think the Savoys will react? I think there is always an air of opportunism within the business they all work in. Knowing that sensitive of information about Mordecai is certainly giving them the upper hand…but I also think they are able to draw the line at an innocent child. Perhaps pester Mordecai about this new information to get him to comply but they would never actually do anything because it’s a bebé c:

3. I have a couple of drafts I wrote last year around the same time as the posted fanfic, but I never got around the posting them. Mostly because I realize now that in my attempt to keep Mordecai in-character, I think I might have made him come off as mean and uncaring to Benjamin and that was not my intention. So while I know what my intention was, I think the audience might not interpret that so I’d love to go through it and rewrite it with my “Mordecai cares despite his sociopathy” more clear. I added a little snippet of one under the cut for you, though! Hopefully you enjoy! It’s a bit of a silly slice of life one set before the main fic when Benjamin is much younger. Sorry for any mistakes!

“Fine, Benjamin,” he said as he lifted the pillow off his face. “You can sleep here tonight. And only tonight.”

“I can sleep here?!” Ben said happily as he scrambled onto his feet. “I can stay with you?!”

“Yes,” Mordecai sighed as he slapped the side of the bed closest to Benjamin. “But you have to stay on that side of the bed.”

The child inhaled in excitement as he began to try and pull himself onto the bed. He was relatively small, even for his age, so he struggled to push himself off the floor. It didn’t help that Mordecai had a particularly tall mattress, something he’d chosen purely for comfort reasons, but made it difficult for the child to climb in by himself. For a moment, Ben hung from wads of the fitted sheet he had grasped in his paws, using his feet to try and push his upper body over the top.

Mordecai’s eyes widened when he suddenly lost sight of the child and he heard a loud thud as something hit the floor. He leaned to look over the edge of the bed and at the boy sitting on the floor again.

Ben dusted his paws together as he whispered a small ouch to himself. He looked up at Mordecai and showed him the palms of his hurt paws.

“I fell down,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Yes, I’ve discerned that much,” Mordecai replied. With a tired sigh he reached down and pulled the boy up with him, sitting him on the bed.

Another clap of thunder shook the wall behind them, accompanied by a bright flash of light that illuminated part of the room. Benjamin looked at Mordecai in horror and quickly covered his ears.

“I don’t like that!” he said with concern.

“You’re fine,” Mordecai exasperated. He pointed to the center of the design on the headboard with one of his claws. “Do you see this point here? This is the center of the bed. You need to stay on that side of it, alright? I don’t want you squirming your way onto my side. Understand?”

Benjamin nodded eagerly and patted the bed sheets beside him. “Don’t touch my side, dad!”

Mordecai frowned at the boy.

“Just lay down and go to sleep, will you?”

“But I don’t have a pillow!”

Mordecai sighed and rubbed his eyes with the palm of his paws. He used to have two pillows. But he only used one when he slept and so at some point he’d decided that keeping a single pillow in the middle of the bed felt much more beneficial to the spacial harmony of the area than two did.

“Here,” he said as he pushed his pillow to the child. He then turned onto his left side, facing away from Ben with his arms folded across himself.

“Thank you,” Benjamin told him, taking the pillow and making himself comfortable. He looked at the older feline expectantly. “Daddy, I said thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

The boy rolled around for a couple of seconds before settling in on his back, holding his hands together on his chest. After a brief pause of silence, the young boy turned to look at Mordecai’s back.

“Dad?”

Mordecai was staring straight ahead of himself; dead, emotionless eyes looking at nothing in particular and yet somehow appearing tired and drained.

“Why must you call me that?” Mordecai asked the darkness between them. “I’ve asked you so many times not to. My name is Mordecai.”

Benjamin thought about it for a second before shaking his head. “Your name is Mord.”

“No…it’s not,” Mordecai sighed. “That’s just what Joseph calls me, for whatever reason. He can’t even be bothered to struggle through anything more than one syllable. It’s no wonder his life sporadically just falls into shambles.”

“Joey calls me Benny Boy.”

“And I don’t like that, either,” Mordecai said bitterly. “What are you, some mascot for a laundry detergent?! I detest nicknames. They’re nothing more than a reflection of laziness and lack of discipline.”

Benjamin laughed. “My name is Benjamin Heller!”

“Yes...I suppose it is.”

The rain continued to knock against the window, creating a constant, soothing rhythm in the room. Ben yawned and rubbed his eyes with small fists before once again turning to look at the older cat.

“Dad, I have to go to the bathroom.”

Mordecai rolled back over to stare at the boy with a frown.

“Then go. What are you telling me for? I don’t need to know everything that goes on in your body.”

Ben had sat up and was watching the older feline while he picked at his claws nervously.

“I’m scared…”

“I’ve already told you, you will be fine! I’m confident you can handle this.”

“I don’t want to go alone.”

“You are being immeasurably annoying right now, Benjamin,” Mordecai said, seething at the child. “You are the youngest and somehow the most domineering person in my life. Why do we always have to do what you want?!”

“You can come with me really fast!” Benjamin continued as he motioned with his hand. “It’s really fast, daddy!”

“I did not spend all that time teaching you to go to the bathroom for you to do this to me.”

“You can hold my hand and I won’t be scared, I promise.”

“Does it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to hold your hand? Go to the bathroom!”

The young kitten shriveled into himself, squeezing his legs together and holding his paws between them, grimacing as he tried to hold it in. He bounced a little on his knees and looked at Mordecai anxiously.

Mordecai very roughly slapped his paw over his own face before aggressively kicking his feet around to throw off the blanket, getting up with an angry snarl.

“Come on,” he said forcefully as he yanked the boy off the bed and unceremoniously carried him under one arm, grabbing his glasses on the way out.

He made his way down the hall and to the doorway of the bathroom, clicking the light on to illuminate the facility. Then, he plopped the boy down at the entrance and pointed sternly into the room with one paw.

“Go.”

Benjamin danced foot to foot as he hesitated to go in. He turned and grabbed Mordecai’s other paw to try and pull him into the room with him, trying to gain himself the extra security.

Mordecai shook his head furiously and yanked his hand back.

“I am not going in there with you. The absolute best I can offer you at this moment is for me to stand outside this door until you’re done and that is it. So go!”

The older cat used his paws to push the child from behind and forced him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He sighed and leaned his back against the wall, doing as he promised and waiting until the boy was finished. Finally, the sound of the toilet flushing and running water could be heard over the patter of the rain overhead.

“I’m done!” Benjamin exclaimed as he made his way out of the room, drying his small paws against his nightshirt.

“Did you wash up exactly the way I showed you?”

The small child nodded eagerly and held his paws up for Mordecai to see.

“I washed with soap! You can smell if you want, it’s like a flower.”

“I would not like to do that, thank you,” Mordecai replied flatly as he watched the boy smell his own paws with a grimace. “Stop doing that. Now come on, I’d like to get to sleep at some point today.”

The older feline then clicked off the bathroom light and turned to start making his way back to his room. Benjamin scuttled after him, looking around himself to ensure nothing scary was following them. He held onto the fabric of Mordecai’s sleeping pants tightly, unintentionally pulling them as he struggled to keep his strides even with Mordecai’s longer legs.

The black cat noted this with displeasure, thinking perhaps the child would tear the silk of his nightwear with his claws. He was young and still not fully conscious of them it seemed, occasionally snagging soft fabrics he fiddled with. The last thing this night needed was one of his favorite pajama pants getting a rip through them.

He let out an exhausted sigh before reaching down and grabbing the arm that was clinging to him as close to the shoulder as he could, pulling him high to catch him in his other arm. Sometimes, things were not worth the confrontation. Especially when he yearned for sleep more than he desired to correct behavior in that moment.

Benjamin reveled in this decisions that seemed mostly in his favor, grinning happily at Mordecai now that he was at his same eye level.

“What’s that?” he asked Mordecai, pointing very closely at the glasses sitting on Mordecai’s nose.

Mordecai pulled his face away from the finger. “Don’t do that.”

“Okay…what is it?”

“They’re my glasses,” Mordecai said in mild annoyance. “You’ve seen them before.”

Benjamin continued to stare at them intently. “But why do you put them on your face every time?”

“Because I need them to see,” Mordecai sighed, finally arriving at the room. He let the child slide out of his arms and onto his designated side of the bed, dusting the sleeve of his nightshirt after. “I’ve had a condition called myopia since I was young. It makes it difficult for me to see certain things so I need to wear them most of the time.”

“I like them!” Benjamin said as he watched Mordecai place them on his bedside table in awe. “I wish I had one of those.”

“Well, I suppose that’s good. You’ll likely need them in a couple of years,” Mordecai said as he got into his bed, letting his entire body relax as he enveloped himself in the comfort of his linens. “Unless your eyesight takes after that woman. But it has been a fairly dominant gene in the family so far. At the very least, it’ll be interesting to see if you manage to evade what no other Heller has.”

“You’re a Heller feller!”

Mordecai looked at the boy in visible confusion, who smiled back at him as he, too, let himself fall onto his back.

“Joey said that,” the boy explained.

“Of course he did,” Mordecai said as he shook his head in disapproval. “Can you please go to sleep now? I’m tired of talking to you.”

“Okay, I will,” Benjamin responded as he burrowed himself deeper into the covers, eyes squeezing shut as he let go of a large yawn. “Goodnight…”

[cleo-fox]

I created this Tumblr a year ago today.

I wasn’t really sure how my work would be received here. While I had Tumblr under my previous pen name, I didn’t use it to actually post fic—it just wasn’t as much of a thing in that community. So I had no idea what to expect when I posted Surrender.

I have been continually overwhelmed and humbled by this community’s support and enthusiasm for my work. Every follower, like, reblog, comment, and message has meant so much to me.

This last year has also been extraordinarily difficult on a personal level. My last two grandparents died nine months apart. We had to put one of our cats to sleep. I also experienced a major depressive episode that put me on medical leave for about four months and resulted in an incredibly toxic situation at work that ultimately culminated in me quitting my job. There were many days where I basically got out of bed and sat and cried on my couch. Those were the days where this site was a lifeline.

I know sometimes when shit hits the fan in online communities, people will tell each other stuff along the lines of “log off, it’s not that serious.” And there are elements of that that are kind of true: these are fictional guys. It’s important to keep a good perspective. But at the same time: you never know what the person on the other side of the screen is going through or why they need a little bit of an escape from their life. I’m just profoundly grateful that this was a positive place for me to be when I was struggling the most.

So, TL;DR: thanks for letting me stick around and share my silly stories.. I’m glad I’m here. I’m looking forward to another year of writing more of my silly stories and sharing them with you all.

(And special shout out to the sluts. You know who you are and I love you all.)

[crabsnpersimmons]

hi @uwuinhell!

i have a bit of a long answer to this, so i hope you don’t mind me replying as a post, just in case anyone else is curious

the tl;dr is: i'm planning to write a fic for this AU, but i'm happy to read your fic as well with proper credit

first thing is: i’m overjoyed by the positive response to this little AU! it’s definitely been occupying my mind as i’ve been studying (Eclipse is notably the most distracting) so i’m glad there’s an interest in such a simple premise—i was honestly hesitant to call it an AU at first by how simple an idea it is

that being said, i’ve been hinting at it a bit in some of my tags, but i am planning to write a fic for this AU it’s still in the planning and drabble stage, but there is definitely a story that i’m hoping to share. unfortunately, i am currently attempting to speedrun a 2 year program, so my time is short—and my leisure time is split between my other competing ideas and inhaling other people’s creative works to revive me after my daily readings

i will say that the AU has evolved quite a bit since my initial drawings—new designs, more background info, and a healthy dose of lore and trauma for the entire main cast—so there’s a lot i’m excited to share with you all

THAT BEING SAID, i am always eager to encourage other people’s creativity and i am so honoured that my little doodles can inspire people to be creative. so i would absolutely love to see your fic, i just ask that you:

credit me if it uses my designs and ideas; and

send me a link so i can read it, because i will read it and i will treasure it and do a silly little dance

in case anyone's curious, here are some not-too-spoilery notes about what i’m planning:

the working title is “New Do, Same You” (honestly still iffy about it—it fits the story but it doesn’t quite ring well, we’ll see if i keep it)

it’s a slice of life story about how we respond to change, dusting ourselves off and moving forward, while carrying the baggage and fragile trinkets that define us

off the top of my head, these are some relevant tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Polyamory, Hurt & Comfort, Drama, Slice of Life, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Kissing (eventually), Humour, Possessive Behaviour, Healthy and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Inferiority Complex, Body Dysmorphia, Existential Dread, Fluff, nothing NSFW

will likely default to a T rating, but will bump up to M for heavier topics

it will definitely be more than 5 chapters long. i don’t have an estimate on how long the fic will be. it's nothing too grand but i do know it will need quite a bit of time in order to properly explore all 3 of the boys and Y/N

there will be a Y/N, and Y/N has some lore, but other than some key backstory and key areas of development, i try to keep them gender neutral and as ambiguous as possible

i’ll be sharing the updated designs and some drabbles here when i have time—as soon as i can! (a little sneak peak is actually scheduled to post sometime today!)

i’ll also admit that this is my first time planning to write such a big fic and the first time i’m considering sharing it with other fans! my writing muse is very shy, so please be patient with me

in the meantime, please accept this (admittedly outdated) doodle of the boys:

[etherealhoneybee777]

Okay, the mp100 fandom (and other fandom spaces as well) makes me really hopeful✨

The internet is mostly a cruel and terrible place. It largely exists as an instrument of global capitalism. Governments use social media to push propaganda that either reinforces their fascist, conservative ideals or instills leftists that want to fight back with a sense of hopelessness that paralyzes and scares them. And we’re also getting to a point where much of the content we see online is not only made by AI, but interacted with by AI as well. We’re seeing “art” and ragebait stories that aren’t even made by real humans, but are spread online as if they’re true. Transactions are everywhere, but because everything is a subscription service, we own nothing. Corporations are putting advertisements on even the most sacred corner of the web & encouraging people to constantly consume, to BE consumed with the desire to consume more things, and to fill up the little time we have left with constant, buzzing productivity—because the internet is an instrument of capitalism, and capitalism is about constant expansion, expansion that won’t stop until everything in our lives is quantifiable and our whole being is stretched thin in service of a pointless, unstoppable economic growth.

In the face of that, I think your mp100 art is amazing. I think your fic is amazing. I am glad you decided to share it with us. I am glad you took the time to analyze Mob or Serizawa or Tome. To post screen grabs of Dimple or gifs or animatics or anything else. I’m glad you reblogged my post and added some silly or thoughtful little hashtags. I’m glad you DM’d me or posted a long ramble about Ritsu or Teru or reigen.

People don’t have to do these things. They don’t have to sketch characters or share headcanons or write fic or make watch parties on cute little discord servers. But they do. They do it because it’s a fun thing to do & because they’re talented and passionate. And it makes me happy that on the internet—which is increasingly being used to alienate and control us—still hosts real communities and real people making real art and writing their real thoughts without any kind of profit motive or manipulative agenda. People are literally just posting because they want to share their work and connect with others. It reminds me that no matter what capitalism does, we live in a fundamentally social world & we’re constantly trying to connect with each other about the things we like. MP100 is the thing I like and the people here make me hopeful. I see people post their art/writing/headcanons and I get super happy. I get inspired. I look at people’s bios and all the different countries they’re from and get really happy that the internet can be used as a tool to connect people across the world with the same interest together.

Choosing to create and make friends and be nice and spread positivity over the internet is a uniquely powerful thing. It may not seem like much, (and being on the internet is often framed as “wasting time”) but the Internet is important and the things you do here are actually tangible and real. Making and sharing art—making friends—sharing writing and blurbs and headcanons is a legitimate pushback against the terrible capitalistic machine that the internet has become. I’ve heard a lot of creators say that their art doesn’t get noticed/doesn’t matter because it doesn’t get a lot of attention. But it DOES matter. Because, for every second that someone spends seeing your art, that’s one second that they don’t spend on government propaganda or brain-numbing advertisements or ragebait or AI generated “content”. And even if no one sees your art, YOU spent time making it. You loved it and cared for it and valued it in a way that capitalism can never profit from or understand.

I hope you know that I see your art & love it. I look at it when I’m sad. My gf and I look at mp100 art while we sit outside and feel the world leave our bones. Maybe this is too much, but I’m feeling earnest and joyful tonight & am trying to lean into those feelings.

I’m just thankful. You create and share just because you wanted to create and share. You’re making the world a better place.

[halfratsalready]

Reflecting On My 2024 Fics 💕✨

When this year started, I hadn’t published a fanfic in well over 5 or 6 years. By the end of the year, I’d published 7, including 3 one shots, 3 completed multi chapter fics, and 1 in-progress multi chapter fic (that I admittedly haven’t touched in a while, oops). I also organized my first ever fic exchange this year! I loved being able to bring people together to share stories with each other and am so glad I stepped out of my comfort zone by hosting an exchange, so much so that I hosted another one later in the year!

I’m not the best or most prolific writer here - not by a long shot - but I’m pretty happy with what I’ve done and am so grateful for this community’s response to my works! In honor of that, here’s a little reflection on what I’ve written this year :)

(Featuring a sneak peek or two at what I’m working on next…)

Breaking Down 🥀

(March 18th. 1 chapter. 2k words. 21 kudos. 1 comment.)

My first fic in 7 years, first ever Just Dance fic, and first fic on AO3! The start of my tendency towards Jack Rose angst! Based on a Florence + The Machine song! This is a short one shot that I wrote in a very stream of consciousness manner. It’s not exactly my best work, but it holds a special place in my heart for all the milestones it represented for me.

Lose Yourself ✨

(March 22nd-April 5th. 5 chapters. 16.5k words. 95 kudos. 45 comments.)

Oh, Lose Yourself, where do I even begin with you? This fic genuinely changed my year, all for the better. I was absolutely terrified to post this. I was new to the fandom, publishing a fic amongst so many other incredible works by incredible writers, and to top it all off, it was my very first time publishing a ship fic. It was also my first time publishing a series. I had debilitating anxiety for days because I was scared to publish actual ship content. The response to this fic was absolutely incredible and I am still so, so grateful to everyone who read it and left feedback. This series was also the first time I ever received artwork for any fic I’d written. Genuinely, this was sort of a life changing experience for me, as silly as it may seem.

Close to Post-Mortem 🥀

(April 12th-April 26th. 5 chapters. 17k words. 71 kudos. 39 comments.)

Part two of the Lose Yourself series and my second (and much darker) foray into the world of Jack Rose angst, as well as my first time really getting to write Night Swan. This is the fic that made me realize how much I love writing the dynamic between Jack and Night Swan, and just writing Night Swan in general. While generally the least popular of the Lose Yourself series and probably my third favorite (not that I don’t like it, I just like the other two better), this fic is special to me for showing me how much fun I have writing angst and how much I love writing these characters. Also, it’s the first instance of my personal favorite AO3 tag of mine- “turning people into terrifying mind controlled bird minions left right and center,” which gets it a ton of bonus points in my book.

Fail Me Not ✨

(May 3rd-May 20th. 6 chapters. 38.2k words. 92 kudos. 39 comments.)

This fic is so special to me. It closes out the initial Lose Yourself trilogy (because I decided that I want to continue the story through Dance With the Swan and hope to do so one day) and represents the first time I actually finished a fic series (technically not because there’s more to come but I finished the original plan so I’m counting it). The feedback I received for this fic was so kind and I’m so grateful for everyone who left a comment at any point in this series. I’m really proud of the Lose Yourself series and am so happy that so many people liked it!

To Form A New Dynasty 👑

(For Frostyblustar. July 14th. 1 chapter. 21k words. 36 kudos. 14 comments.)

This novella (never intended for it to have that high of a word count - it was supposed to be a simple one shot) is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. I had so much fun coming up with the lore of this version of the Danceverses and exploring this dynamic. I loved writing Night Swan and her dynamic with Jack and writing Si’Ha and writing Jack and Wander in this new dynamic and wow I just really enjoyed writing this fic, as stressed as I was about the ridiculously high word count at the time. @frostyblustar’s prompt allowed me to write something I never would have thought of otherwise, and I loved working on it so much! This was also my first time hosting a fic exchange and I’m so happy with how it went and the incredible fics that came of it! Hosting this exchange was a great time and I’m so glad that so many people participated and had a great time!

The Wrong World ✨

(July 19th-Present. 1/9 chapters. 4.8k words. 33 kudos. 10 comments.)

I published the first chapter of this fic shortly before a bunch of things in my personal life erupted into chaos, and it kind of got pushed to the side and more or less forgotten, but I am working on getting back to this fic! This is probably the most comments I’ve ever gotten on a single chapter of a fic and the support for it was overwhelming. I really do love the story I’m telling and am excited to work on it more. This one is special to me, even if it’s been neglected for a while. This is my first non-Lose Yourself series multi chapter fic and I was so happy to know that people were excited about it. Thank you, everyone, for your support on this fic- I promise you that more is coming in the new year!

Gather Near To Us 🎄

(For Doodling_Doodle. December 15th. 1 chapter. 7.8k words. 5 comments.)

Despite being the calmest and fluffiest of all the fics I wrote this year, this one was somehow the most stressful. I agonized over this one and finished it with about eight minutes to spare… yeah, it was rough. Considering I’m not used to writing fluff, I’m not too unhappy with how it turned out, but I wish I’d been able to give it the time and energy it deserved without being distracted by a lot of craziness in my life. Without the adorable prompt from @doodling-doodle, I wouldn’t have stepped out of my comfort zone and tried writing fluff, so I’m very grateful that I had the opportunity to challenge myself with something new. This was also my second time organizing a fic exchange and I’m genuinely so happy to know how many people love these exchanges! I hope to organize more in the new year!

What’s Next…

I can’t promise when anything I’m working on will be completed and ready to publish, but I’m slowly but surely working on…

The rest of The Wrong World

A one shot prequel to the Lose Yourself series

One of the projects I’m most excited about!!! A dark murder mystery featuring Edgar Allan Poe references and buddy cops Brezziana and Discoball! (Don’t expect this one anytime soon, though - even if I finish it soon, I’m planning on posting it throughout October for spooky season.)

A ghost AU??? 👀

One last thank you to everyone who read any of my fics, to everyone who left kudos or a comment, to everyone who reblogged my posts about these silly little fics, to everyone who made posts about these silly little fics, to this entire fandom for welcoming me into it and allowing me to be a part of it. I’m so happy to be here and to have such kind people to share my works with! Happy New Year, everyone!!! 💕✨