#six ways to sunday fanfiction

[sexynetra]

SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY (plus picrew)

Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me 😈 anyways I can’t go through the edits for this chapter until I finish a few other writing projects but I PROMISE I will get this chapter out to y’all as soon as I can! We’re in editing phase :) also my friend sent me this picrew and ofc my first instinct was to make rawnsyf anarcia (I can’t decide which one I like better but either way Anetra is crying it just feels right) <33

~~~~~~

Anetra turned around to face Marcia once she had dumped the glass into the trashcan and tossed the towel over the wet carpet. “You can go back to whatever you were working on. You don't have to stare at me like I'm a zoo animal.” Her voice wavered.

Marcia shifted awkwardly, adjusting her sleeve so it lay flat against her arm. “I know you don’t want me to talk to you, but–”

Anetra cut her off. “But nothing.”

[space-writes]

six sentence sunday

tagged by @oh-no-another-idea, thank you! here’s a lil bit from Contract Negotiations, the Glasya/warlock fic that definitely is not on the list of wips i planned for this year but is nonetheless Compelling Me

[ID - a purple and black decorative divider]

“Then why are we here?” Glasya swings her legs down and leans fowards—eyes on her face, Niamh, do not stare at the Archdevil’s cleavage, don’t do it, don’t do it, I don’t care how incredible they are do not look. “If everything is going so well—” she motions with one hand and a scroll burns into existence between her clawed fingers “—then why do you want me to alter this?” That’s her contract. That’s her soul in scorched letters and a bloody thumbprint and Glasya’s kiss burned at the bottom. She has an identical copy hidden in the hollowed out base of her staff—she takes it out sometimes, wondering if the lip-print will still burn. It always does.

[ID - a purple and black decorative divider]

no-pressure tagging @zmwrites @jmhwritesstuff @aalinaaaaaa and @viscerawrites

[walkawaytall]

Look, this has been living in a draft of a scene that got pulled entirely from my current longfic awhile ago and I like it and I swear I will find a place to use it, but until I do, I’m letting it live here for a little bit, I guess?

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“You’ll speak at my funeral, won’t you?”

“We’re not dyin’, so there’s no need to plan that now.”

“Right, but whenever I do. Die, I mean. You’ll speak. You’re the only one that’ll tell the truth.”

Han cleared his throat nervously. “Think everyone’ll have good things to say ‘bout you, Leia.”

“Yes, I know. Good and flowery things. You’ll tell the truth. So everyone’ll know the nice things are real.” She laughed. “My eulogy should start with, ‘Leia Organa was a pain in the ass.’”

Han laughed his deep, genuine laugh, the one Leia liked inspiring most of all. “Shouldn’t I be the one writin’ your eulogy if I’m sayin’ it?”

“I’m offering inspiration to get you started. In case you don’t know what to say.”

“I know what I’d say.”

“Given my funeral a lot of thought, have you?” Leia teased, though the idea made her heart hurt a little.

“No,” Han said quietly. “Just have a lotta stuff I wish I’d said earlier.”

[echo-bleu]

Seven Sentence Sunday

I was tagged by @loki-is-my-kink-awakening (thank you!)

I have new WIPs growing like mushrooms currently, so here's a brand new one. It's a Silm canon divergence that starts at "Maglor tries to rescue Maedhros from Angband", but here we're long after that:

“We need help. We need the Valar.” It tears at Maedhros’s throat to even say it, though it’s far from the first time. It feels like a betrayal of all his father stood for, to go begging for the Valar’s help, but they’re out of options. “All the expeditions have been lost,” Elwing points. “What hope is there?” Maedhros reaches into the folds of his gambeson, between the armoured plates. He holds out his hand to her. “Take this to your husband. It might tip the scale.” Elwing stares at the Silmaril glowing in his hand. “You—” “They are good for nothing if we’re all dead. The Valar wanted them once. Maybe if we’re willing to negotiate…” Maedhros stops. The last tendril of the old Oath pulls at his vocal cords, powerless but nonetheless present, as if screaming for his betrayal. “Take it to Eärendil,” he repeats. “Sail to Valinor. Do what we could not.”

tagging @emyn-arnens @polutrope @camille-lachenille @xianvar @pherryt

[jb-nonsense]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @tiredassmage

Tagging @commander-krios @atlanta--airport @storyknitter and anyone else!!

when u and the guy u banged recently run into ur ex on Hoth

“Doc, this is Kero Synagh, we grew up together.”

 “Just Doc?” Kero asked, raising a brow and the warmth that was in his voice when talking to Leeloa was less.

“Yeah, it’s simple,” Doc told him with a shrug. Despite the distance, Kero had kept a hand on the small of Leeloa’s back. Grew up together? There was something else there, that was for sure. Doc held his hand out, though, pushing back any of those weird thoughts or feelings. “Nice to meet you.”

[ebitenpura]

still having brainrot over Eight and Lana's own commander-and-outlander relationship bc i can't fucking sleep and have to make flop posts, but the day before he leaves is the day they sit down with one another atop his ship, watching the sunrise. (I guess this counts as a WIP whenever but I've slacked so hard this month I don't even remember how or what i've been tagged in...OTL)

they've both been made aware of one another. Lana's incomparably guilty. Eight looks at her and sighs.

"Be proud, Lana Beniko. Yours is the shield that our enemies dashed themselves on, that guaranteed a new future for all those you held dear. If you're at a loss for what to say to me: don't. No other would go so far. That is why we won."

For once in her life, Lana finds no speeches at the tip of her tongue, no ready-made phrasing that does just enough; she merely stares at her friend, (her hand), and stammers.

"I... don't know what to say. Eight, I..."

"I just told you not to." The spy feigns irritation with a roll of his eyes, then cracks a smile at her, faint and fleeting as the breaking dawn. "Neither of us were very good at listening to each other, were we."

An awkward silence descends on them. Lana is visibly discomforted, now made aware of the exact implications of such a statement. Eight had bent over backwards to follow her sense of right and wrong. Eight had devoted everything to heeding her call. She hadn't even known his reasons for doing so until the very end, blinded by her own eagerness to be saved. Her gloved hands grip the edge of their perch, white-knuckling them beneath the leather.

And she'd been none the wiser until she awoke one day to a slightly panicked holocall from base saying Eight was gone.

He'd fled. Deserted. In the traitor Theron's words, as he put it with uncharacteristic gravity to his features, "was it any surprise that he ran away? you used him-- and now he wants nothing to do with you or the Alliance. It's over."

The betrayal had stung almost as much as the revelation. They'd made up by now, but...

"Lana." Eight's voice pulls her out of her morose reverie, clear and lucid as day. His eyes lock with hers, piercing right into her soul. Lana's breath hitches, and his next words punch the air right out of her chest, like a battered hole in a damaged dreadnaught in the vacuum of space.

"Stop it. I know that look. Stop punishing yourself."

He grips her by the shoulders, shockingly earnest for a spy who concealed all emotion. Lana opens her mouth to speak, but instead of words coming forth- something unfathomable flows into her across the bridge of physical and mental contact, whisking her away on the tides of fate.

[oceannacaldin]

Six sentences sunday

The next bodyguard in line waited for Top’s nod to step on the mat. Again, Pete lasted longer than what Vegas anticipated but eventually went down again, when he was to slow to avoid a vicious hit to his jaw. He stayed there a few second more, and Vegas noticed the way the room’s mood had shifted, from the mix of professionalism and eagerness to test the new meat, to a mood more befitting a boxing match. Vegas though that without Top’s presence, some of them would have started to bet. And when Pete rose up he must have felt it, because for a second he smiled widely, full of the rush of adrenaline and that expression only faded to concentration when his next opponent stepped inside the ring. It was one of the newer recruits, younger than most people here, less used to their work.

[thecoffeelorian]

Fandom Friday, 12/27: Fanfiction!

Hello again, everyone…and welcome to another installment of Fandom Friday, the two-post series where I go off to find new and interesting fanworks that might need a bit more visibility.

Before we begin, I have to admit something real quick: I almost forgot to make this list at all, because I was first working to get through retail hell at my job, followed by regaining all of my energy (and spoons) on Christmas Day.

However, since I think I managed to gather at least seven links for you all, even if it was at the last minute, I certainly hope that this is satisfactory at such short notice.

Anyways, before I get too distracted or lost...here, now, are my picks of the week.

THE PREQUELS

The Prequels Fanfiction--By @beauiestars:

THE CLONE WARS

The Clone Wars Fanfiction--By @testingforgravity:

The Clone Wars Fanfiction--By @justaparsec94:

THE BAD BATCH

The Bad Batch Fanfiction--By @star-farer:

The Bad Batch Fanfiction--By @indigofyrebird:

THE MANDALORIAN

The Mandalorian Fanfiction--By @dindjarindiaries:

The Mandalorian Fanfiction--By @annwrites24:

SKELETON CREW

Skeleton Crew Fanfiction--By @writing-girlie:

In conclusion, as part of my mission to poke around the Star Wars fandom and highlight those writers who might otherwise go unnoticed…I hope you will check out the links I have included for yourselves and like, comment on, and reblog them, as well as also giving the writers a few more followers to their Tumblr pages.

Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time.

An additional thank you goes to @djarrex for making the divider I used earlier in this post, but still want to give credit for.

And finally, so that I do not forget…thank you to my friends, thank you to this fandom, and above all else, please stay safe out there.

No Pressure Tags: @melymigo @algo-o-nada @the-osborn-way @everybirdfellsilent @skellymom

@leos-multifandom-corner @maggie-dylan @leenathegreengirl @gun-roswell @tazmbc1

@bluedeedeedoop @its-time-to-rise-above @tlmtwelve @snoowply @apocalyp-tech-a and anybody else who might be on the lookout for new SW fanfiction.

[igot7bulletproofmonstas]

There's not a whole lot in this world that's better than waking up from a dream straight from fanfiction paradise where this man...

absolutely destroys you six ways from Sunday. When I tell you I woke up NINE KINDS OF REKT!

If Seo Changbin is even HALF the animal he was in my dream, in real life? I just hope his future partner has good medical insurance and an orthopedic surgeon on speed dial.

[laura1633]

Okay, so, guess this Max Verstappen writes fanfiction. Explicit fanfiction-- fluff too but a lot of explicit stuff. look if he cannot get Charles in real life, he will make sure his fictional self is getting railed six ways from sunday. Charles Leclerc-- not much of a writer. He loves reading fanfic though! Especially by an author called 'Unleash The Lion'. If he came reading about fucking Max it is no one's business but his.

Soon enough he finds the Tumblr profile of UnleashTheLion and they become fandom friends. 2019-2020 They decide to meet. Their friendship shifted well beyond reading stories about Charles Leclerc fucking Max Verstappen and they became friends. Turns out they could have had the real thing all this time.

Haha, yes anon, I love this idea. Max just straight up writing out every fantasy that pops into his head and Charles sitting at home reading it and getting turned on by it. I love that they are both basically sharing their fantasies with each other without realising - maybe sometimes Charles leaves comments for suggestions Unleash the lion can write about 😳

I was thinking about what would happen if the author Unleash the lion (Max) always makes the same spelling mistake or misuses the same phrase a lot so it almost becomes like their signature way of writing even if they don't realise it.

One day Max texts Charles about something but makes that same very specific mistake as "Unleash the lion" does. At first Charles thinks it must be a coincidence but he still wants to find out for sure so he starts mentioning subtle things to Max to see if they suddenly appear in the fanfics and they do. Every single time.

When they do eventually get together they start re-enacting all the fics Max has written!

[droughtofapathy]

AO3 Wrapped 2024

i was not tagged by @prozac-shaped-urn, but that's never stopped me before.

Works published: 17 Word count: 306,448 Kudos: 160 Hits: 2,416 Bookmarks: 24 Subscriptions: 4 Most popular by kudos: Substitution (25 kudos) Most hits: Learn How to Settle for What You Get (292 hits) Longest: The Sun Comes Up, I Think About You (45,810 words) Shortest: Everything's Different, Nothing's Changed (3,022) Most comments: Learn How to Settle for What You Get (9) Favorite comment:

Every single essay @trying-to-get-somewhere-real has ever left in my inbox. The very first essay for Substitution kickstarted a lengthy attachment to the Julia fandom (especially Avis, my beloved) and I am now sitting on a solid ten fics for this niche market. And while I haven't done the math, I'm just going to assume I've written the majority of the fandom's word count. I am deeply entrenched and cannot be rescued.

Also, every comment wailing about how effective the heartbreaking scenes I write are. In addition to @trying-to-get-somewhere-real, @voltives and @turtle-down are especially gifted at this. I'm a gal who likes to see my readers suffer.

Fics that made me cry: I'm a big crier while writing my own work, but the absolute cream of the crop this year came from the two grief-centered fics, of course. Learn How to Settle for What You Get and The Sun Comes Up, I Think About You.

Fics that made me smile: Kicking my feet, twirling my hair, giggling like a fucking maniac over Avis getting railed six ways to Sunday in If It's Thursday, It Must Be Nora.

Gifts: A very in-depth smutfest from @prozac-shaped-urn, which was quite thoughtful. Granted, I don't really know Hacks and honestly, I wasn't stirred by What About Joan?, but it's the thought that counts. We love to see old broads fucking (in increasingly unrealistic ways).

Gifts I've Given:

When the Morning Comes for @prozac-shaped-urn, which no one has read or acknowledged because it's Broadway Diva RPF, and you know, that's fine. For the best, really. But I will say that it's some good smut.

Buried Sweetly in Her Yellow Hair for @trying-to-get-somewhere-real because a little Judith and Blanche and Avis, and some hairbrushing is an irresistible concept.

A Kind of Happiness No One Really Knows for @little-sweet-cheeks. So, I started taking prompts, and ended up with some delicious concepts for Avis, my beloved. In this one, Avis finally gets to give Julia what for.

Alternative Ingredients for @sparklingmonster in which Avis finally gets a goddamn break from all the shit I put her through.

The Sun Comes Up, I Think About You for @Voltives to celebrate our one-year mutual-iversary with a few Gilded Age OCs played by Marin Mazzie and Jan Maxwell, our beloveds. It gets rough at the end there. My specialty. Collaborations: I don't do that. Events: I really don't do that. Word count read: Absolutely no shot I'm going to do the math on that. Bookmarks: Works by my beloved mutuals:

The Light We Cast by @voltives- in which we finally get some good fucking Passion (1994) fanfiction around here. And it only took thirty years.

slight curvature by @turtle-down - gasp. Someone else picking up the torch and writing Lina/Aurora? Oh, happy days.

Each year, the fandoms I devote myself to grow increasingly niche. Gone are my days of snapping up over 10k hits in a year, and in its place are glory days of far greater worth. Now, I have a special and beloved circle of readers/mutuals that shower me with comments. My stories are for myself and the five others clawing at their enclosures, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

Now, back to writing another gift for a beloved mutual. And this one is...deeply unhinged.

[funtomfactory]

In memoriam

Now that most of you have read chapter 209 of the manga and have hopefully let it settle in a bit, I would like to give some attention to this.

RIP Snake 3/15/1871 - 12/9/1889

A beloved member of the Phantomhive household and Kuroshitsuji family has passed away. Snake, as we learned, was 18 years old and had no other name. His eccentric looks an dabilities made him a very special character to many who have feelings akin to Snake's: the fact that they desperately want to belong somewhere, despite being an oddity. Snake therefore was a very popular character, even becoming the seventh most popular character of the series according to an official poll, just missing out on the Akuma Six.

Much about Snake remains a mystery. We still don't know what caused his appearance, or how he wound up at the freakshow. I have little hope that we'll find that out yet now that he's gone.

But we will not let his passing go by unnoticed. That's why we announce the following:

Snake's memorial service (#Snake Memorial) Starting this friday, and lasting throughout the weekend, we will honor Snake in the ways fandoms tend to do:

Friday: Memories day. Share your favourite manga/anime moment(s) of Snake and his Snakes.

Saturday: Fan content. Share your fanfictions, fanart, etc. featuring Snake.

Sunday: Speculation day. What headcanons do you have for Snake? Which questions left unanswered do you think you have the solution to? Share your thoughts on Snake on the third and final day.

How to participate? Of course we leave that entirely up to you! If you want us to reblog your posts, use the tag #Snake Memorial or send in something using the askbox or submission page.

Remember: Snake will only truly die if we forget about him as a fandom.

@kurosnakes

[thenovelartist]

Order in the Chaos - Chapter 6 - Honkai: Star Rail fanfiction

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter >>

“Sunday.”

At the quiet voice, Sunday turned around to see Dan Heng approaching him. “Yes?”

“Are you retreating, as well?”

His heart skipped a panicked beat. “R-retreating?”

“Himeko’s brewing a new flavor of coffee.”

Sunday felt his stomach sink to the floor, his mouth watering unpleasantly.

“We’re hiding in Stelle’s room,” Dan Heng explained, beckoning Sunday to follow as he walked towards the party car.

“Even though she isn’t even on the Express?” Sunday asked, his feet moving on instinct. He hadn’t been here long—it had bare been six weeks—and yet he’d picked up several habits in that time, including running whenever anyone mentioned Himeko and food together.

“She gave us her permission,” Dan Heng explained. “She understands the severity. Though I envy her and Welt for being off the Express entirely at the moment.”

By now, Sunday had learned how to blindly accept the strange innerworkings of this place despite his confusion. There was no use in asking questions; they were never answered to satisfaction. However, if one of those strange innerworkings involved the preservation of his well-being, he had no choice but to accept it. Even if that meant trespassing into someone’s private quarters when they were not around.

“I never got to thank you for the other day,” Sunday spoke. “I assume it was your sacrifice that stopped March and Stelle from continuing to touch my halo.”

“As I said,” Dan Heng smoothly answered, “they mean no harm. I’ve come to learn that strategically entertaining them works better in my favor than not.”

“I am in your debt.”

“You assisted me in hiding my mess from Pom-pom. Furthermore, you helped me practice my magic that day. I would say we’re even.”

That was true, though Sunday had to admit that watching Dan Heng move water with just a swish of his hand was quite fascinating. It was hardly a chore. Minus the second time that day he overdid it and lost control, forcing them to manually clean up again. Ultimately, if Dan Heng could manage to get control of his powers, it was undeniably the most efficient way to clean.

The sounds of videogame beeping greeted them as the duo walked up to Stelle’s room. Upon entering, the movement on the large computer screens caught his attention. March sat in the gaming chair, tapping away at a controller as the computer flashed in response.

“Won again!” she cheered, throwing her hands in the air. “New high score! Beat that, Stelle.”

Dan Heng smirked as he walked over to a different shelf. After looking over the boxes stacked on it, he pulled one out. “Do you play chess, Sunday?”

“I do.”

A minute later, they had set up the game at the small table in the kitchenette. Before they started, Dan Heng walked to one of the snack cabinets and rummaged through it. “Do you want anything?” he offered, pulling out a snack to show Sunday. “I think Stelle stocked these for you.”

Sunday’s brow furrowed in confusion as he looked at the snack package. The yellow and pink logo looked quite familiar to him.

Wait… was that a pudding tart? “That is quite thoughtful of her,” he said, nostalgia warming his heart. “I suppose I’ll take one.”

Dan Heng grabbed another snack bag before closing the cabinet. Then he opened the fridge. “Iced tea?” he offered, already taking out one can.

“Sure.”

He grabbed another before returning to the table, setting down his haul. One more trip into the kitchenette, and he returned with coasters and napkins. “You may have the first move.”

 Sunday moved his first piece. After the first several moves, Dan Heng paused in deliberation long enough for Sunday to open the pudding tart package. Taking a bite, the familiar taste of his childhood came rushing back to him, and he couldn’t contain his smile.

Within ten moves, he’d polished it off and debated about grabbing another. The pudding tart he’d gotten with Stelle and March a couple weeks ago had tempered his homesickness, but this one fueled it. He longed for the long-gone days of sneaking out of the house with Robin, their pockets and purses laden with money they’d saved as they ran through town to their favorite sweets shop. They’d always displayed their fresh tarts in the window.

I’ll have to thank Stelle later.

The first game went to Dan Heng. Sunday chalked it up to him being distracted over the snacks. But when he lost a second, he realized Dan Heng was a truely formidable opponent. At the way this game was going, Dan Heng was going to beat him a third time.

Until he somehow squeaked out a victory. Sunday didn’t even know how he managed it.

“Heh.” Dan Heng’s lips twitched in amusement as he looked at his trapped king. “Well done. Would you like to play again, or would you like to choose something else?”

“I want to play!” March had popped over by now. “Maybe I’ll have a chance against Sunday.”

Sunday smiled. “I wouldn’t mind a change of partner.”

Dan Heng stood, gathering the snack wrappers and the empty tea cans. March quickly took his place at the table and began setting up the board again.

“Oh, Stelle, welcome back.”

At Dan Heng’s words, Sunday turned around, only to see Stelle walking in, a pile of papers clutched to her chest.

“I smelled the burning of coffee the moment I walked into the Express,” she commented, her eyes wide and corners of her lips tipped down in fear. “I figured you were all up here.”

March piped up, “Did you and Mr. Yang finish your exploration early? Actually, nevermind. I should know better when I see that pile of papers.”

Stelle giggled, theatrically presenting them to Dan Heng with a flourish and a bow. “For Master Dan Heng to put in the archives.”

Though he made a show of sighing, his smile proved he was not put out by it. “Thank you, Stelle. Now please go shower.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Ya, right,” March groused, waving her hand in front of her nose despite Sunday not being able to smell anything. “No one wants to touch you after you go dumpster diving.”

Sunday frowned as he turned his attention back to Stelle.

“Fine, fine,” Stelle lamented, throwing her hands up in surrender. “No one appreciates trashcans around here.” Her expression suddenly turned smug, a hopeful twinkle sparkling in her eye. “Unless Sunday does.”

Trash cans? “I… I cannot say I do.”

She pouted. “Another traitor.” She then walked into the kitchen, reaching for the sink. “Fine, fine. Just let me have a snack first. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

Speaking of snacks… Sunday cleared his throat. “Thank you for the pudding tarts, Stelle. That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Oh! You saw them.” She beamed, shaking her hands off after washing them. “Good. Hopefully you liked them. I can find other ones if you didn’t, but those were the only ones I could get from Penacony.”

That tinge of homesickness returned. “I have a fondness of that brand,” he mused, watching as Stelle rummaged through the cabinets to pull out a pastry of her own. “I used to eat them as a child. They were a favorite of Robin and me.”

Stelle held out a thumbs up, her fingers covered in the sticky glaze of a pastry. “Good, good,” she muttered around a mouthful of food. She took a second to finish chewing and swallow before continuing, “I’ll keep that in mind when I restock snacks. Oh! And if you have anything else you want, tell me and I’ll order it.”

“Noted.”

“Stelle,” Dan Heng spoke up. “May I borrow your phone?”

She popped her hip out towards Dan Heng. “Take it.”

Unphased, Dan Heng slipped his fingers into her skirt’s pocket to take out her phone.

Sunday schooled his features. Not for the first time did he think these two were lying about the extent of their relationship.

“Password?” Dan Heng asked.

“Same as last time.”

Dan Heng tapped her phone. “Thank you.”

“Heyheyhey!” March shouted. “How does he have your password and I don’t?”

“Because you already beat the high score of that one game on my computer. I don’t need you in my phone games, too!”

“Two.”

“What?”

“I just beat a second on your computer.”

“Seriously?”

“Haha!”

“Ugh.”

Sunday ignored his confusion as he watched Dan Heng sit down at the table, papers in his lap and Stelle’s phone in hand.

After spending so much time on the Express, Sunday had gathered more courage when it came to asking strange questions. “And you needed her phone because…?”

“If you knew where she finds these—” Dan Heng held up the papers, “—you wouldn’t want to touch your phone, either. Or any screen, for that matter. She has to clean her phone anyway, so I might as well use it to take notes and send the data to the archives.”

The earlier remarks came back to the forefront of his mind, and a sinking suspicion grew in his gut. “Stelle,” Sunday began, turning back to her as she shoved the last bite of pastry into her mouth and licked the sugar glaze off her fingers. “Please tell me you did not engage in… rummaging through trashcans on Penacony.”

“Listen,” she countered, her eyes practically glittering with more wonder than the stars held up in the night sky. “Penacony trashcans are next level. They are beautifully designed, just the right color, they glimmer in the lights—”

He stopped listening, hanging his head to pinch his brow in an attempt to quell the oncoming headache.

“Stelle,” Dan Heng interrupted, cutting into Stelle’s impassioned ramblings. “Go shower.”

“Fine, fine; I’m going.” She wiped her hands off over the sink before grabbing clothes from her dresser and sliding into the bathroom.

By the time the water turned on, Sunday expected everyone to leave so as to give Stelle the proper privacy. Instead—

“Your move, Sunday.”

—the only move made was that of March moving her knight on the chess board.

The question of if it was alright to stay was on the tip of Sunday’s tongue, yet he couldn’t make the words roll out. Instead, he bit his tongue and moved his pawn instead.

Just when he thought he was adapting to what “normal” on the train looked like, they once again moved the goalposts on him.

~~~

Dearest Sister,

I don’t even know what to report.

All I have is one request: please ask the Bloodhound family to more firmly enforce a “no dumpster diving” rule. Penacony may be far from perfect, but I’m sure no one will disagree with my opinion that this city should have more pride than that.

Love Sunday

~~~

“March! Really!” Stelle cried, looking through the computer logs to see just what March had done in Stelle’s absence. “Why so high? I worked so hard on that…”

“Friend Stelle,” a mechanical voice of a supervirus came through the speakers. “I can block March from the remaining games. I can protect against all kinds of viruses, you know. Even physical ones.”

“If you’re gonna live in my computer, you can make yourself useful.”

The virus sighed. “Noted.”

[elliewiltarwyn]

infopost

hello! this is a sideblog for my three FFXIV Warriors of Light OCs, as seen above, so i can put them in a jar and shake them a lot, watch them rotate in a microwave, and other such things we do with our blorbos.

i do some gposing, rant about my girls, and reblog everything from others' gposes and gushing about their WoLs to shitposts and dumb jokes about this award-winning mmo with a free trial up to level 70 including the first two award-winning expansions and no restrictions on playtime.

my likes and follows come from my main blog @wildknightblaze which is just my normal life shit, you don't have to follow that one lol

blog tags include:

#my ocs: ellie wiltarwyn, #my ocs: mia longhart, #my ocs: lilyana tsuki - main focus tags for each of my three wols, if someone wants to look at a specific one.

#oc loreposting, #ask games, and #tag games for the sort of character-building stuff i usually get from prompts or friends' questions

#ffxiv gpose - not a blog-specific tag, but it's what i put on all of my gposes

#my fanfiction - not quite as much use as gpose, but i do occasionally write stuff and put this on it! includes ao3 works, whatever spontaneous writing inspiration i get, and FFXIV Write entries

#ellie's ramblings - whatever other ffxiv-related musings i might have about playing the game or the story or anything else

re: spoilers, i tend to stick to the unofficial two-week embargo after patch releases and will tag them with "#[expansion name] spoilers" and "#patch [Y.X] spoilers" for some time afterwards. i do still tend to yap about stuff in the current state of the game untagged, so use discretion if you wish to remain spoiler-free.

I also play the game's savage raids with my static as they come out, and stream our progress on my Twitch channel, mostly for archival purposes and so our FC members can watch. currently* we raid on Sunday and Tuesday evenings, usually from 9:30 PM-12:00AM US Eastern time. *well, as of this writing (January 2025) we are done with the raid tier and are sort of in hibernation until the next one, though I may also consider streaming Ultimate prog if we get into it!

as for the WoLs themselves:

Elilgeim "Ellie" Wiltarwyn

The most well-known of the trio of Warriors of Light, Elilgeim grew up in Limsa Lominsa with lofty dreams of higher education and bettering the world, only to be rejected by the Studium and lose both her parents in the same day. She ran away from home and weathered the Sixth Umbral Calamity on the streets of Ul'dah, eventually making her way to Gridania to start over as a novice conjurer and rebuild her life. Fast-forward six years and she's the strongest member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, dubbed Ellie by her co-Warrior of Light Mia and having taken the vanguard as a dark knight and multiple styles of melee combat in order to save the star and its shards from varying threats on numerous occasions. Even after achieving such victories, she's not about to let her thirst for adventure go unsatisfied. Yet for all that fame, she tries to keep a low profile and only truly relaxes in good company, where a seemingly grouchy and cold exterior gives way to a self-confident, easily amused, and deeply caring inner self.

She may care a little too obviously, though; tales abound of her doomed romances with multiple notable women of historical import to these worldly conflicts. While some range from truth-adjacent to flat-out fanciful faerie tales, only her closest friends know she's happily married to her co-Warriors of Light after far too many years of mutual pining.

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Mia Longhart

As far as anyone could tell, Mia sprang fully-formed into existence as a member of Ul'dah's Gladiators' Guild, earning her keep on the bloodsands and eventually becoming the first swordswoman to claim the mantle of free paladin in decades. It's only deep into the battle against the XIVth Legion of Garlemald that it comes out that she too is Garlean, born and raised Maia jen Asina, having fled the empire after growing discontent with its colonialist ambitions. No one doubts her commitment to the fight against the Empire, however, which she drives forward with a levelheaded temperament, endless kindness to her peers and allies, and an incorruptible moral compass. Events in the First and a reckoning with the origin of her soul and its relation to the Ascian Emet-Selch shake her to her core, but with the support of her friends and the love of her co-Warriors of Light, she forges on, willing to shoulder burdens so her friends don't have to - which is how she ends up forming a pact with the voidsent whose strength Ellie used to fell Zenos viator Galvus. Coming to grips with the complicated tapestry of her homeland's history, she takes up the art of the reaper and the scythe that killed Zenos to prepare for any future battles she must fight.

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Lilyana Tsuki

Born L'ilyana Shuru, she left home after traumatic events and escaped to Vylbrand, where she took a job waitressing at the Bismarck for some time before falling in with Limsa Lominsa's secret Rogues' Guild. After saving the Mizzenmast from destruction with them, she is recruited into the Scions alongside Elilgeim and Mia as another one blessed with the Echo, fighting by their side to become one of the three Warriors of Light. She has a bright and cheery air and is always smiling, supportive, and enthusiastic, managing to charm even the cold-shouldered Elilgeim, but the trauma of the past weighs heavy on her heart, crippling her with a lack of self-esteem and a deep-seated belief that she will never be good or worthy enough. It's not till she admits what and who is important to her that she is able to stand on her own two feet and reach out to take what she wants. Though she is a master of stealth and by far the most agile and light-footed of the Warriors of Light, when she finds happiness she feels motivated to express her creative side and takes up the art of pictomancy alongside her friend Krile.

[kiwiana-writes]

Banner is by the inimitable @maxbegone

Kia ora! I'm MJ (he/they), and I guess it's probably time I pinned one of these suckers.

I have an online store to fundraise for my top surgery!

I'm currently working on my debut original novel, but you're almost definitely here because of my fanfiction. If you're looking for my fics on AO3, you can find all those here. If that number is mildly overwhelming, they are split over a few pseuds:

Red White & Royal Blue and other miscellaneous fandom fics + AO3 work skins here

Schitt's Creek fanfic here

Podfics here

I fairly regularly do tumblr prompt drabbles/double drabbles/five sentence fics here that didn’t find their way to AO3, as well as sharing snippets of upcoming fics and similar: you can find all of those under the kiwiana-writes tag. I try to share something for WIP Wednesdays and Six(ish) Sentence Sundays, but I'm an ADHD chaos demon with literally dozens of WIPs on the go at any given time, so it's always a tossup to see what I'll be sharing. I've recently gotten my shit together and started tagging WIPs, so if you see a snippet that you like, you should in theory be able to find any other pieces of that fic I've already shared. At least since like… November 2023 when I finally started doing that 😅 I also do bookbinds/fanbinds if you're into that!

My ask box is open, anon or not! Happy to answer questions about my work or fandom in general or why the Kings are the best NHL team or whatever you feel like asking about, really. You’re also welcome to drop a prompt if you want to, though I don’t guarantee anything—the muse wants what it wants 😅

This is a sideblog (which, honestly, I kinda regret now, but too late lol) so follows/likes/asks will come from @youtastelike-sunlight until that heady day tumblr staff give us the ability to do those things from sideblogs like we recently got the ability to reply. What a magical discovery that was.

[wonderbias]

Secrets (your fire)

Inspired by "Symptom of your Touch" by @yoonivy. Go read it!

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader.

Genre: Fluff, little bit of angst and humor.

Warnings: language, mentions of sexual relationships.

Notes: after more than ten years in tumblr reading fanfiction I'm publishing my first one. Yep. I'm old. Also, inspired in Magdalena Bay song Secrets (your fire).

Word count: idk, in google docs says "short".

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She is petrified at the confession.

So much that she almost chokes on her ice cream. 

No. All good.

The almond went through the right pipe.

"So...", she begins. "How many times?"

He stares back at her, his angular cheekbones covered in a blush. Her stare is one of 'Really dude?'.

He sighs.

"...too many to count," replies Aemond. His hand runs across his medium length hair.

"Holy fucking hell! And now...?"

"She's very happy with Aegon, the jewel of the family," Aemond says, the venom in his voice evident. "They started dating after...the last time, yeah. Been together for six months."

She stares back at him and sighs, when she asked him what was his most important secret, she hadn't expected this. Her confession of being a virgin at 21 was just a tiny detail next to the bomb he had dropped. Suddenly she had no appetite for ice cream.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this.", she said, leaning close to softly caress his shoulder.

His face fell, the look of despair in his eyes was replaced with rage. Although, there still was a sadness undertone to it.

"You know what the worst part is? That the cunt of my brother knows, he fucking knew all the time! So now I have to live with the humiliation of him knowing, the heartbreak and having been used like a common whore!", he spat.

She sighed, his hurt and angst was evident.

"I wouldn't say like a common whore...at least whores get paid," she tried to joke with him.

Bingo. Success. He smiled a little at that.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that...dark version of 'The Kissing Booth'. But hey...at least she dumped you before she caught an STD from Aegon," she joked with a wiggle of her brows.

He burst in laughter and threw her a pillow.

"You fucking idiot. Thank you," and there was sincerity and affection in his eyes for his best friend. "So, is that an confession that you watched 'The Kissing Booth'?"

"Yes I did watch it, I washed my eyes with sulphuric acid after," she said with amusement in her voice. "But, let's go back to 'That Girl'. Are you better? The therapy is working?"

"I-I like to think it does. I've changed...a lot...since I started therapy. It helped me to finally appreciate myself, but when 'That Girl' is brought up I feel like I haven't made any progress. Now my insecurities are tied with the probability of being alone forever and that I'm unworthy of love," he said with a sigh, his fingers scratching the couch.

"Well, that makes two of us. But mine is being alone forever, that I'm unworthy of love and dying a virgin," she said back to him. "I win."

He laughed at her and shook his head in disbelief, before changing the topic into what movie should they watch, like every Sunday.

Their friendship had started in the most bizarre way. They didn't share a major in Dorne College and they lived far away from each other but, by destiny, they had registered in a seminar of Literature at college last semester.

The first time they had talked to each other had happened when they arrived ten minutes earlier to class and started a small talk about their majors. When fifteen minutes had passed and nobody else had arrived they realized that the class was a Thursday, not a Tuesday like they had individually thought.

A small error had blossomed into a great friendship. They both had trouble socializing, very few friends and an interest in novels of any kind, especially fanfiction. When he had, by error, sent her a link to an AO3 fanfic, she had screamed in delight at sharing the same tastes.

It felt magical to have someone who completely understood you, who understood the fascination for reading fanfics where #BruceWayneisaGoodParent, who had the same humor in memes, who knew the references to Epic Rap Battles of History and who screamed in longing at the scene where Cecilia asked Robbie to come back to her in Atonement.

It was perfect.

Well, except for that small small detail...

She liked him.

A lot.