#so i can actually work on a good fic in that au

[oldbutchdaniel]

iwtv fanfic friday <3

happy weekend reading!

all human decisions by LuckyDiceKirby (@luckydicekirby) m, 19k

Daniel’s bastard maker had the advantage over him: he could travel by daylight. By the time Daniel woke at dusk, sprawled on the couch and actually literally tucked in, there was no sign of him. Well, fuck Armand. Daniel might be a newly minted best-selling conspiracy theorist whose sanity was being publicly debated on every existing social media platform, but he was still a journalist. He could track down one monstrous extremely divorced serial killer, easy.

(armand is sooooooo annoying in this. he's everything to me.)

colour me your colour, baby by hederabug m, 2.6k

“Daniel.” Daniel hears the soft, but insistent voice first as a distant call, as if she’s submerged in water. She breathes air when Armand’s hand grabs at her shoulder. “Wake up, lover.” Armand is on all fours, hands and knees on the bed above where Daniel’s still lying down, so they’re face to face. Armand’s brown eyes are glinting with some manic light, her face cast in shadow, striking chiaroscuro, lit only by the dull amber glow of the bedside table.

(rest assured i will be doing a dm yuri theme week soon and rest assured this will be on it. but it was too good not to include here. i need like 17 more fics in this series)

With His Heart Still Intact (They Didn't Do It Right) by CaravanOfCrows (@asthedeathoflight) t, 6k

A series of collisions; in which free will exists but fate isn't going down without a fight. (surely Armand and Daniel only have extremely normal feelings about freedom and agency and destiny)

(WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE DM SOULMATE AU AGAIN. CAN WE TALK ABOUT IT PLEASE)

marketplace heart-eater by eggalbumin m, 6k

Daniel picks up a blade from the stack of discarded tools in the kidney tray. It has blood on it. “I’m a little scared to ask,” he says, with the aura of someone who isn’t very scared of asking at all, “but who’s blood is this?” Mine. Yours. My master’s, twice-diluted. Why does it matter anymore? It’s poison either way. “The doctor was just showing me how to do incisions. It’s fascinating work.”

(really fucking awesome armand character study. the first time i ever found marius compelling due to the fact that he's written from the lens of armand's tangled knot of being. like i think he should be killed with hammers as much as the next guy but he makes for such a fascinating narrative concept)

did you believe in the glass city by tei @bloodripelives nr, 5.9k

"Yes," Armand breathes. "Yes. Is anything they did to me worse than what I have done to you?" Daniel wants to say yes, but shit, he's not even sure what Armand had done to him. And whatever it was, he is sure that he would have let him do worse.

(daniel tracks down marius for the sake of armand's tangled knot of being. it goes as well as you would expect. so fucking beautiful and soooo fucking compelling. made me cry at least twice. read it now)

[daengtokki]

Heyy there :) I literally can't stop thinking about SKZ f!additional member AU and softie Seungmin who seems nonchalant like the unbothered king he is but caring just deeply about reader, for example looking out for her when practice gets tough, getting snacks during recording sessions and so oooon. Yeah, I'm weak for that. Maybe you are, too. Have fun during this fluffy week either way^-^<3

This trope is interesting, but I've never actually read a single fic based on it! I'm not sure if I would do it justice. I do have an idea, though, and it's in the same vein as this, and I can add in the things that you're weak for (because same). The problem is…I can’t do it in a single ~1k word oneshot 🥲

So thank you for the inspiration for a new possible longer story! Unless everyone absolutely hates it.

If you like it, I’ll be happy.

idol!Kim Seungmin/guest artist!reader/idol!Chan x reader △

wc: ~1.1k (part 1?)

rating: angst to fluff

Day 5 of Seungmin's birthday oneshot countdown!

It's a few more weeks at the most, maybe longer, and after that...he'll probably never see you, or talk to you again. The planning stages of this was fun, he admits, and all eight of you sitting around the table talking to you on speakerphone; the excitement in everyone's eyes and voices was contagious. And of course Seungmin is excited...it's you. He's been a fan of yours for as long as he can remember, so having the opportunity to work alongside you, and maybe even sing with you? It’s a dream come true.

That's the problem.

He hasn't slept properly in a few days, and he's feeling very puffy and tired. There's only so much he can do now to prepare himself. He took a cold shower this morning, drank as much water as he could handle, but after that he couldn't stomach more than half of his iced coffee. It's still in his hand, numb from the almost melted ice, and dripping steadily on the floor. You're somewhere in this building right now, and you could walk in with the others at any moment.

Time to turn off. Turn off or make a complete ass of himself.

/ / /

You feel a little awkward as you walk toward the meeting room...recording studio? You actually have no clue where you're going, but you're flanked by two much taller men you don't know, and in front of you is Chan, who was a little red in the face when he was talking to you and asking you to call him Chris. So you do.

"Chris?"

He turns and smiles at you, and it's so...something you can't and refuse to deal with right now, you think. No. It's cute, and it's shy. The photos you've seen of him before today really did nothing for him, even the good ones. But you're a professional, and you are very good at acting professional when needed. Even when sweet, attractive men are involved.

"Yeah, all good?"

"Good, yeah! Where are we headed? Should I be mentally preparing to meet everyone?"

"Yes, definitely start preparing right now"

One more right turn and something about the door up ahead feels like the one. Meeting suite 1411. That's the one. Chris opens the door and moves aside to let you in first, and the room is empty, or appears to be. Security fell back and took up guard at the end of the hallway (unnecessary and embarrassing, you told Chris when they appeared).

"Oh, nobody is here...okay." He checks his phone and scrunches his nose, and you kind of feel like kissing it. "I'm sorry, I guess everyone ignored the group chat this morning."

"That's alright, are they somewhere else?"

"It's possible, but..." he points to the table filled with snacks and drinks. "I don't wanna drag you around looking for them." The phone is to his ear, and you hear it ringing, and ringing...

"I can wait here if you have to go find them. I already see a coffee carafe with my name on it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I haven't had enough coffee or stare at my phone time this morning, anyway. And my friends are down the hall."

He smiles so big, you have to return is just as enthusiastically. Maybe he'll turn up his flirting, and you won't have to feel as responsible for your own.

"I'll be right back"

Chris turns on his heel and is gone, and the room is so quiet. Maybe you should put some music on. Before anything, you look over the catering and wonder if anyone will actually have time to enjoy this. The coffee and lemon water, sure, but this is actually a full-course meal in front of you. Just as you fill your cup with coffee, you hear music...but you don't think you pushed play yet.

No, definitely not, because it's your voice that you're hearing. You turn toward it, and jump when you see him standing there, almost mid-step, one hand reaching to pull at his earlobe. His eyes are wide, but other than that...he seems less surprised to see you than you are to see him. But he does at least pause the music.

"Hello," you say, hoping to get him to come a little closer. Whoever he is, and you feel like you should remember all of their names by now, he looks a little annoyed that he now has to share this space and this coffee with someone else. "My eyesight isn't great even with the contacts... I don't bite."

"Hi," he takes a few steps toward you, and you watch his long legs move in his shorts and socks and clean black converse. "I'm–"

"No, I can remember...give me a second"

He does, but he doesn't seem happy about it. This one doesn't have the carefree smile that Chris did, or the shy demeanor. It's a bit distracting, the way his lips purse into a heart, and the way his big brown eyes look down at you. His hair falls perfectly in front of his eyes, but you're pretty sure he woke up looking this good.

"Oh..." it comes to you, sort of. "You're the puppy, aren't you?" You think you see the ghost of a smile on his lips, but it's gone so quickly. "Seungmin."

"Yes, I'm the puppy. And also Seungmin."

The puppy persona fits him, at least physically. His face is soft and round, his big brown eyes turn every so slightly downward, and his ears—something about the way his ears sit on his head, is so... "it's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise"

Seungmin holds out his hand for you. You do the same, and he takes it so gently. His touch and his mien don't seem to match, and you wonder if the first impression isn't the one to remember for this one.

/ / /

Seungmin finally takes a deep breath when you turn and head toward the coffee again, and he watches as you very carefully add the smallest amount of milk and sugar to it. He finally finished his, so maybe he should make himself another cup. It gives him a reason to rejoin you instead of standing here looking like an idiot.

"Have you met everyone else, or just me?" What a stupid question, he thinks. "I mean, I'm sure you met someone...you're here."

"I met Chris. He left to go find all of you, but you must be the only one who read the message and listened."

"Yes, I saw the message. I like to be on top of things."

The way his voice lowers as he speaks sends a little shiver up your arms. Seungmin likes to be on top of things, and you love catching an innuendo wherever you can. You smirk, but wipe it from your face when you think he might be looking at you.

Seungmin sees the smile pull at your lips and then disappear immediately. "What?"

"Nothing,” you laugh. “I don’t think you talked much on the calls, did you?”

“I did not speak much, I don’t have too much creative say. I have some, it just depends on what we’re doing.”

“Well, it’s tough getting in there with eight of you, I’m sure. Everyone can’t be everywhere…too many cooks in the kitchen.”

Seungmin allows himself to laugh at that, but he stifles it a little and turns away. You’re as cute and relaxed in person as you seem in interviews, and on stage, and it’s a little overwhelming. He can’t let himself do this—he can’t get himself into something he won’t be able to escape. But he seems to remember reading something about a possible relationship you’ve gotten yourself into. Thinking about that breaks his heart a little, but it’ll at least help keep him away.

None of that matters, though. Why would you have any interest in him in the first place?

“Do you want coffee? How do you take it?”

Dammit, okay… “black is good.”

[yellowocaballero]

Writing update

I should probably give an update because things been slightly whack. Roughly, in order:

Was having issues with my medication, and writing got really difficult. Wanted to write Naruto, could not. Continued writing that Jason Todd story because what am I going to do, not write?

Fix medication issues. Feel like I can write again. Open up literally almost fucking random word document, see that it was the first paragraph of the More Than Zero rewrite (the story from my Star Wars No Chip AU) that I never did.

Go nuts.

Sixty pages into doing the rewrite, I decide that actually this story cannot function at all if I don't stop writing it and go write an entirely different story, which is somehow necessary for the quality of this story. Time to write the one of the many other No Chip AU stories I never got around to writing.

Go nuts.

40k of the Neyo story now exists. It's good, mostly.

Realize at this point that I cannot post a 40k fic on Tumblr and that the complete series is now clicked into my mind as an anthology, which means that it needs to go on AO3.

For several different reasons, one of which is admittedly marketing, I would like the series to stand on its own, so I need to completely rewrite the Order 66 story to establish everything about the universe that the ordinary roleswap fics established.

Realize I've gone nuts.

Decide to completely rewrite the Order 66 story anyway, it is at least twice as long and basically completely different.

As I do this, I realize that now the Rex buildingsroman story doesn't work at all, so I need to cut one section of that and rewrite a portion of it as well.

I would also like to make some semi-significant changes to the Bly story.

I am currently in the state of going nuts and will continue to be going nuts until some undetermined point in the future, at which point I will post every single fic in one story on AO3. There will be a metanarrative.

Decide that I was completely correct in aggravating literally everybody by refusing to post this on AO3, because if I had posted it on AO3 then it would have been way more difficult to rewrite all of this. I also feel a lot more confident in the quality of the rewritten versions and have, fortunately, improved over the last two years as a writer.

I think.

SO YES, I WILL BE POSTING IT ON AO3 THIS TIME. OKAY?

This is all BIG news for like maybe three people. All that to say, I will not be posting anything for a bit and then So Much will be posted. The revamped series should stand on its own and not need any knowledge of its parent AU. This is why I've disappeared off the face of the Earth. I will come back with Star Wars.

[deeppenguinstudent]

My FAVOURITE kevjean fics of all time (take note of the tags).

God, this was beautifully written. I think they captured the essence of Kevin and Jean beautifully, especially Kevin. You guys just need to read it. I love it so much. This is exactly how I imagine Kevin to be if he ever gets into a relationship with Jean. I promise you it's worth it. I would recite poetry about this, but I don't want to spoil anything for you.

Okay, this is in Russian, but you can translate it directly on your Google Chrome page. There's a feature like that. I love love LOVE this trope. If anyone else writes about exchange student Jean, please, oh please, lmk!!

Depressing one-shot where Kevin is on call with Jean as he kills himself. God, I love this so much, I reread this all the time, lol.

Absolute cuties, I adore this feel good one shot!

This was actually my first ever kevjean fic, and gods, it's so amazing. The pacing, the way Jean learns to love other people? 40 000 of pure unadulterated joy when I read this

Party animal Jean is my LIFELINE. And the first chapter had me hooked beyond measure it's so well written!! like genuinely this fic is my guilty pleasure

A cute no exy fic about nerdy Kevin trying to pick up hot worker Jean at an aquarium. Fics like these give me LIFE honestly

This fic makes me so so happy whenever I read it. It's not really canon compliant but who cares?? It's beautifully written and oh my god its just such an awesome read.

Soulmate AU anyone??

Crazy how I remember this fic by heart. I think about it in my daydreams honestly.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17754014

I've used up my links lol but anyways fake dating AU kevjean makes me so happy!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54077899

Jerejean best friends and Kevin Day playing Frisbee shirtless? I'm sorry this was the pinnacle of spectacular honestly 😭😭

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27438619/chapters/67076011

Here's another kevjean reunion, is it a wonder what my favourite type of fic is? Lol.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38524621

This isn't outright kevjean, it's mainly focused on Neil and Kevin's friendship but it's so fucking funny I definitely suggest you read this if u need something light and funny.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50032441

Another outright amazing fic. God this was hilarious. Again it focuses on andreil but kevjean is there in snippets! Kevin basically thinks Andrew is cheating on Neil because he sees Andrew kissing spiderman. And spiderman is essentially Neil.

I think that's it? So far😭😭

[sullyinthestars]

Guys guys guess what

I started writing the AFTG x American West/Rodeo/Cowboy/Ranch AU of my dreams.

Idk if it’ll actually become a long form fic, but I thought I’d give you some highlights:

A whistling carried over the yard. It guided Andrew’s eyes back to a single figure, perched atop one of the gates as if it were a throne. He didn’t feel a need to react, not until he realized it was Cracker’s pen. Noticing his mustang moving sent him stalking over, fully prepared to shove the stranger to the ground.

What stopped him short was watching Firecracker trot up to the man with her ears angled toward him curiously. The stranger pulled something from his pocket, and held out his hand. The mare sniffed from where she’d stopped, but refused to touch his hand. Andrew waited and watched as the stranger tossed it into her empty feed pan.

As soon as he was satisfied with her nibbling on his offering, the stranger turned to look at Andrew. He’d seemingly heard his approach, and knew he was there all along.

Andrew stood his ground, letting the stranger swing his legs over the gate and drop to the ground. Cracker jolted at the movement, and he said something to soothe her before he met Andrew on the lawn.

“She yours?”

Andrew hadn’t expected that. His face was still the picture of neutrality, but it encouraged his curiosity. “Yeah,” He kept his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. “Take it you’re the new kid Wymack warned me about.”

The stranger smirked. “Ah, I got my own warning,” He chuckled. “Neil- Neil Josten,” He offered Andrew his hand.

“Andrew Minyard,”

-

Okay so:

- Wymack runs a rodeo grounds, but also has a stable but also a boarding house. You help at the stable/ranch and your horse boards for free. He helps the kids event and stuff.

- Kevin rides a Friesian, big into Dressage. (I want to name his mare Queenie.)

- Allison does show-jumping, but also barrel racing. (Her thoroughbred (show jumper) is named Madonna and her quarter horse is Rocky.)

- Dan does team roping, she learned under Wymack but now helps him out with his “strays” (She has a paint that is technically Wymack’s but everyone knows that is her heart-horse named Whiskey. She thought it was funny bc her back story is still the same and Hennessy)

- Aaron is a vet student, he interns in town under Abby. Katelyn is the receptionist.

- Bee does equine therapy, she’s a retired barrel racer.

- Andrew worked as a jockey, made a decent amount of money in a lawsuit after an accident. He adopted a BLM mustang on a whim and gentled her himself with guidance from Bee. Her name is Firecracker.

- Nicky is a stable hand, he’s got an old draft horse cross named Bear. (Erik isn’t a horse guy, still German but he is working in the US on a land conservation/research thingy.)

- Renee is a trick rider. Neil makes a comment about her having a death wish.

- Matt was a bull rider? He got a nasty head injury but grew up around horses. He’s the biggest ranch help for Wymack. His horse is a retired Thoroughbred who also makes a good lesson pony.

- Neil never meets Seth, but his legacy is around the grounds. He died in a drunk driving accident on the rodeo grounds but Neil thinks there was more to it. (Seth was a bronc rider).

- Neil eventer in English when he was younger, he knows his way around horses.

- The story starts with him signing up to ride a bronc on a whim, he’s not a circuit cowboy, Wymack runs some searches and has no idea who the kid who just won the event is.

- Offers him a place to stay for the night, and some work if he needed it.

- I’m already tempted to write a TSC/Trojans spin off bc I need to give Jean Moreau a mustang that he can see himself in. He can’t be with Kevin (their story is slightly different but some aspects remain the same) but he can be with horses. Give him a mustang gelding that shies away from everything and who he has to learn to be gentle with as he learns to be gentle with himself. Also, Cowboy Jeremy. Team ropers Cat and Jeremy, barrel racing Laila. And bc Emma Swift is my Trojan I decided to project onto: she’s a ranch hand who works more with the cattle and less eventing.

Guys hear me out okay.

[thieves-never-say-die]

So glad to encounter another White Collar fan! I've enjoyed following your watch of the series and reliving memories from my first watch, and I'm intrigued about the fics you mentioned you're working on. Can you share a little about the fics?

I'm glad you're enjoying my watch! It's been a wild ride and I'm so happy I got around to finishing the show.

And I will take any excuse to talk about my fics SO there's a few that are just general Neal whump, one in specific that I'm still thinking about and haven't actually written anything for yet is for s5e4 Controlling Interest, because they really didn't do enough with Neal getting drugged twice in (I think) one day??? Insane that there were no side effects. Also I think it would be interesting to go into depth about what Neal tells Peter before Mozzie gets there, because we know he's talking about his childhood and they only give us like one line, but I'm kind of waiting to finish the series and see if they fill in any more gaps about his mom themselves before I go out and write that one (they have to tell us more about his mom. right? please someone tell me they give us more about his mom, we've gotten like two lines and they paint a very sad picture)

The other two are VERY angsty AU's. The first of which is 'what if Neal kills Keller in s3' (I think in ep 11? when El gets kidnapped?) because there is NO REASON for Neal to be good with guns. Why is he that good with guns. There is no precedent for Neal to be that good with guns. I just think it would be interesting (read: very sad) if Neal accidentally kills Keller while trying to protect Peter.

The second is at the end of s4 when Neal is trying to keep James around so Peter isn't charged with Pratt's murder, James shouts "don't make me do something I'll regret" which my brain immediately went "ok but what if he did something he'll regret". Which started off simple but has spiraled out into a much longer fic so that one's taking a while to write.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  dartlekey! @dartlekey has 11 fics in the Stranger Things Fandom and 9 of them are in the Steddie tag!.

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @dartlekey:

If you were church (I'd get on my knees)

RUSH! (T4T REMIX)

At a medium pace

With great power

"I read the "with great power" series not long after I got into the Steddie fandom and was instantly like "I need to raid this author's other fics" and subscribed to them. No regrets for that choice!!" -- Anonymous

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

Why do you write Steddie?

For me, Steddie hits that sweet spot of strong characterization but woefully underexplored details, both for the individual characters but also their dynamic with each other in canon. That makes their relationship the ideal writer's sandbox - since they're both so fluid, you can explore the characters through each other, showcasing many different and even conflicting facets of each other while still retaining their original characters and behaviors. Either of them can be rich or poor, famous or an everyguy, Gay or Bisexual, Dom or Sub, Top or Bottom, Trans in any direction - the details are up to you! 

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good slowburn friends-to-lovers fic. It needs to be a specific kind for me though - I'm not much one for prolonged pining, but I love it when the friendship is explored in such depth that the next step feels like an inevitability. Watching that deep platonic affection turn not-so-platonic, that's the good shit. 

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

My specialty as a writer, I think, is crack treated seriously, or crack with a twist. Usually the first question that sparks one of my fics is “If X happened, would that be hilarious or what?” and then the second is “But if it was because of Y, would that be fucked up or what?” I think you can see it best in If you were church I'd get on my knees (what if Steve was a stripper at Eddie's stag party BUT it was actually a social commentary on queerness and sexuality in the face of religious oppression), but it's in At a medium pace too (what if Eddie couldn't move his arms because of injury so Steve “has” to jerk him off, but it's actually about how growing up queer can warp your perspective on healthy sexuality) , or even in Don't look back (What if Eddie had to dom Steve for plot reasons, but it's all body horror and trauma and spiraling codependency). 

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I don’t think I could name one all-time favorite, because what I enjoy most about fanfic is that different writers bring different character interpretations, storytelling styles and plot ideas to the table, which I find incomparable. I have enjoyed many of the well-known classics, of course (pukner I owe you my life--), but let me use this chance to give a shout-out to some less well-known masterpieces! My top three underrated fics are Three Days on the Red Planet by CaptainHoney/@grandmastattoo on tumblr (retro scifi, gritty but humorous hopepunk, every single fic of theirs is a certified banger but I love this one the most for some reason!!), Love dirty men alike by wrenowich (chef au, an ode to kitchen culture in all its griminess, I love a detailed backstory plus Steddie being wonderfully weird about each other), and That’s just wasteland, baby! by fastcardotmp3 (post-s4 apocalypse survival, sweet and aching and tired and yet hopeful, made me cry in the best way). 

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

One that's pretty unique to the steddie fandom, or perhaps general stranger things fandom, is “if canon event x had happened differently/hadn't happened at all/had happened to a different person, how would the rest of canon change?” I still need to work out a lot of details in my head, so that's all I'll say for now, but it's something I'm very interested in exploring.

What is your writing process like?

Much to the horror of fic writers everywhere, I don't do first drafts, I just write out everything in detail, scene by scene in chronological order. I edit as I go, and consider the many-numbered, often unplanned writing breaks an important part of my process - when I let the written portion sit for a while and the unwritten ideas percolate in my brain for a bit, I often end up with new plot points or solutions for problems I've been having! And when that inspiration strikes, I can write anywhere - on the train, during lunch break at work, in the vegetable aisle of the grocery store… I have gdocs on my phone and I use it liberally; I'd say I write at least 80% of any given fic on my phone. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

Apart from the hot mess I just described, I'd say it's that I never use Beta readers. I'll occasionally ask friends to help with specific details if I need an expert on certain subject matter, but I've found I get very grumpy and fussy if someone pokes at my plot (even if or rather especially if they’re right lol), and I don't want to subject anyone to that. 

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

For oneshots or series comprised of single-chapter fics I like posting as soon as I'm done, but for multi-chapter works I've recently found that starting to post only after I've finished most (if not all) chapters beforehand improves the quality of the story! Since I tend to integrate new ideas or shift around plot points a lot while writing, I often end up in completely different places than my original concept, so if an early chapter isn't posted yet I can retroactively edit it to add foreshadowing or tone-match the end of the work, remove loose threads and suchlike. Don't look back is a good example of how this has worked out for me; comparatively It don't bite (Yes it do) - which I wrote and posted chapter by chapter - is tonally all over the place. 

Which fic are you most proud of?

Naturally I love all my babies, but I consider Don't look back my magnum opus - both because it is the longest fic I've ever written (13 chapters and 90.000 words in total, that's practically a novel!) and because it's the most plot-rich, labor-intensive, and overall serious in tone. I even worked in subplots about the rest of the cast, so it almost reads like its own season. I wrote it for last year's Steddie Bigbang, which means there's also a gorgeous accompanying artwork by @the-chilly-kat. 

How did you get the idea for With great power?

At the time I'd seen a few marvel AUs floating past me on the tumblr timeline, usually with Steve as Spiderman and Eddie as the human component of Venom, and having just recently seen the Venom movie depicting the rich relationship between Eddie Brock and the symbiote, it surprised me that most left the symbiote as its own character, and not substituted one of the ST main cast. The symbiotic relationship of Stobin immediately came to mind, though I also still loved the idea of Steve as Spidey - then I remembered that in the Toby McGuire movies, the two are not mutually exclusive, and it all spiraled from there. Eddie as Deadpool just made sense - immortal wild-card with a dubious moral code but a heart of gold? Obviously! Plus Spideypool is, of course, a classic ship. 

When writing With great power, what was something you didn’t expect?

I actually got several curious comments about the sex toy Steve uses in Because the night - a grindable or grinder, which is a flat-ish silicone structure, usually ribbed in an interesting way, that one can grind against to get off (as the name suggests). I thought it was pretty common, but apparently it's not very well known!

What inspired  RUSH! (T4T REMIX)?

Oh, it's my time to gush! Because the idea for the first work actually came about from a late night conversation I had with the beautiful, amazing, wonderful @maikaartwork, back when we were, how should I say, in the courting stage? Seeing as we met through the Steddie fandom, I decided to write Baby Said basically to seduce them - and I am happy to say it worked, as we've been dating for over eight months now and are planning to move in together next year! Both works from RUSH! - T4T REMIX (and the secret new WIP, shh) are thus somewhat inspired by our conversations and our t4t relationship, but also by the many interesting and different trans people I've met over the years, and trans solidarity and relationships in general.

What was your favorite part to write from At a medium pace?

The small-talk in between position changes - no, really! I love a mindless marathon-fuck story as much as the next person, but there's something very sweet and intimate about those little breaks in sex, the pass the lube, move your leg a bit, what's for dinner later of it all. That's where you see that emotional connection - there's no admission of crushes or big love confessions in this fic because it's right there in the details.

How do/did you feel writing RUSH! (T4T REMIX)?

Honestly, it's just really really fun and self-indulgent. The Steddie dynamic in it is so bitchy, all the bickering makes me laugh even as I'm writing it. It's also just really fun to write about the trans experience in a way that is curious and loving, and reflects all the very different and yet similar ways people experience living in a body that defies expectation. I've loved all my fellow trans people sounding off in the comments about their own transition experiences, it's wonderful to have such a fantastic community!

What was the most difficult part of writing If you were church (I'd get on my knees)?

Curiously enough, not the many religious trauma bits! Much like Eddie in the fic, I'm only church-freak adjacent - I grew up in a non-religious household but with extended family that were extremely catholic, so the odd juxtaposition of being occasionally close to but definitely not involved in what is pretty much cult behavior inspired much of this fic. The most functionally difficult part to write was actually the wedding - as an aro-spec & trans relationship anarchist, church weddings have never been relevant to me, so I had very little idea what actually goes into one! Very little of the research I conducted on the topic actually made it into the fic, but hey, the more you know. 

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

People keep asking me that, and I never know what to answer! If I had to pick one, though, maybe the last few paragraphs of Don't look back - where you can see the tragedy coming, but there's no way of stopping it, because it was always going to end this way. And then Eddie's last words before the end of the fic call back to the title as well as the general theme of the fic - it just all comes together for such a crescendo of an ending. 

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

Yes, actually! Coming soon in the SteddieBang'24, me and my lovely artist @hawkinsleather have been working hard on a 20k post-s4 fic called A glimpse of your canvas, which is about closeted transfemme!Eddie, women's solidarity, and Steve's very confusing no-good trip to the gay bar. Both With great power and RUSH! (T4T REMIX) have another WIP pending which I'll eventually finish (I promise, I'm just easily distracted!!), and for those who are still mad about Don't look back’s open ending, I'm almost done with the sequel, which features a lot of bad decisions by all characters involved, the healing power of community, and a bit of accidental child acquisition. 

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

Given the chance of this platform, I would like to notify my readers that I'm a terrible procrastinator when it comes to replying to comments, but I read and cherish every one of them - and repeat commenters, I see you, I love you, I am chewing on your arm like a dog with a bone!! I would also like to thank the steddie fandom in general for giving me the hottest partner known to man or God, and for the many friendships I've been so fortunate to build here. Talk about transformative works, am I right? <3 

Thank you to our author, @dartlekey, and our anonymous nominator! See more of dartlekey'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!

[tennessoui]

i think it would be really fun (for me) (sorry) to do like. some sort of holiday fic giveaway of a chapter/oneshot of one of my fics/aus set during the holiday season?

(i know i know it's the first day of autumn in america time, but look these things take time ok)

but like a giveaway where people vote on which of my fics/aus they want to see a holiday installment for (like KUWSK, PBATMB, sugar daddy anakin, crossed the stars to be lovers au, smithsonian au, king obi-wan au, regency au, use my body to break your fall, t&t au, etc etc etc)

but like what would be the best way to even vote. tumblr ask??? google form (this is my work brain)?? tumblr reply?? smoke signals??? thoughts and prayers?? ehhheuuahhheuhh??

[tunastime]

Stars Realigning

what's GOOD! happy mcyt au fest day(s)! this is my contribution to 2024's mcyt au fest, based on the art of my fantastic artist in crime @eyesandbees. super shoutout to tetris (GO LOOK AT THE ART RN), this au really did something fantastic for my brain :3 and kudos to all the @mcytblraufest mods, contributors, and my mutuals new and old who joined in. mwah!

Xisuma and Exonia were explorers by nature—and how could they not be, when the world rested right outside their fingertips. When Xisuma pulls himself and their brother into an unfamiliar End dimension, their only chance of escape is with a player they've hardly met, to a space station they've never even heard of. Built on the foundations of exploration and discovery, HC might be all the opportunity the siblings need to start a new life—or ruin their only shots at understanding themselves.

(12,765 words) (Read the whole fic here!)

Every player knows two facts about the End: one of those is that it is very large. The other is that it is very dangerous. The islands stretch onwards as far as they eye can see, tipping over a black horizon line invisible to the naked eye. The static particles of void—ink black and speckled grey—fill the spaces that stone and cities and blocky fruit trees do not. No players make their home here—none dare to spend more time than they must. The End is a utility, more than it is a dimension of its own. Hostile conditions make it unlivable to those other than the ones that know it best: endernians, endermen, the dragon, and her egg. 

The third, most often overlooked fact, that meshes with the others in vastness and hostility, is that the End is no place for strangers to combat. 

Xisuma is one of those strangers—was one of those strangers. World hopping was dangerous, unpredictable, dimension hopping even more so, especially for them—for the untrained. He hadn’t meant for either of them to tumble into the End dimension, prepared or otherwise, with its thin air and itchy end dust and large, very large, very angry dragon. It's the first thing his eyes catch—the movement of large wings and a massive, black snout as the world tilts and settles around them. 

Xisuma gasps as they finish settling into the world and Exonia follows suit, shoving them both behind the pillar beside them. The air feels charged with energy, thick with the beat of air from the dragon’s wings. Xisuma swallows as the two of them drop behind the pillar, and as they manage to catch their breath from the initial shock, he stirs up the courage in his chest to peek out behind the pillar. He steps out into the ring around him, eyes searching for the dragon above him. He can hear her cry even from on the ground. The crystals that bolster her strength glow brightly as she passes. It only takes a moment for her to swoop down as she circles, and it’s in this moment that Xisuma realizes he’s been seen. 

They freeze.

The dragon crashes to the ground, the heavy footfalls of her landing shaking the dirt around them. 

Xisuma stares into the creature’s face, purple eyes unblinking.

Something grabs his hand. It takes him a startlingly long moment to realize it’s Exonia, their eyes wide behind their tinted glasses. He’s still too busy staring up into the maw of the black dragon, her eyes trained on his every movement, the betraying flick of their tail. His heart beats fast in the base of their throat. A voice jumps to life in his mind—surely if he stays put, if he doesn’t move, the great dragon will turn her head away from him, and spare him, and spare his twin, and the world will be right again. Xisuma shuts their eyes. The beat between his first and second breath feels like a millenia.

The dragon snuffs a great breath that catches into a screech, its heavy head whipping back and around as Ex tugs on his arm. His eyes snap open. 

He’s not dead.

The dragon roars.

If he squints, Xisuma thinks he can see a shape, blurred by the scent and fog of the dragon’s breath, barely visible against the dark black obsidian pillars. It draws back its glittering weapon and fires, arrows flying high above the dragon’s head and to the peak of the pillars above. The peak explodes; obsidian chips and dust rain down from the blast.

He jerks his head to look at Ex. Their face is pulled tight in confusion and fear, a mask of anger flickering over it instead as they tug his hand again. He stumbles forward, feet catching pocks in the stone before he regains his footing. The dragon’s focus stays trained on the newcomer. She slashes with her claws, jaws chomping on thin air as the figure darts around with the effort of someone trained to deal with monsters her size.

An adventurer. Another player.

He turns back to look at Exonia—the back of their head, the tip of a pointed ear they can see. They’re practically pulling him along into further darkness toward something he can’t yet see, weaving between obsidian pillars as the island stretches out in front of them, all the way to a noticeable drop into void. As they cut through a section of chorus trees, a craft makes itself known on the next ridge.

A way out.

Xisuma pales, the oxygen in his lungs suddenly feeling very thin.

“What is that thing?” he manages as they start to slow. Ex shoots him a look over their shoulder, eyebrows tightly furrowed.

“A ship!” they say. “Don’t be foolish!”

“We don’t even—” X starts, but Exonia pulls them further forward. They dip their head, avoiding the endermen that roam around them, sinking in on themselves to appear smaller. They scramble up the next hill. In the short distance they’ve put between the dragon and themselves, they can still hear the screech of her anger and the beat of her wings. X’s heart still slams away in his throat.

“D’you want to be eaten, you derp?” Ex hisses, dropping into a crouch as they shimmy over the crest of the hill. X scrambles after them, finding their footing on the steep slope and up onto the ridge.

“No!” They blanch at the thought of the dragon finding them again, with her huge, yellow-white teeth and debilitating breath. “Why would I want that?”

Ex shoots them a pointed glance, taking a few quick steps around the edge of the “ship”—if it was a ship at all—as they do.

“Then start lookin’ for a way in!” they bark. Xisuma sets his jaw. Sighing through his nose, he picks himself up from his crouch, and follows suit. The ship is bright white and grey-black, hidden carefully by the dark sky around them and by shimmering enchantments that Xisuma can only guess at as he travels around its side and toward the back. It’s not a large craft—certainly different than anything he’d ever seen. 

Ex investigates with the unshakable confidence of someone who’s read far too much about this exact situation, or craft, or biome, or what have you. Xisuma tries to siphon that energy for himself, watching as they track the side of the metal with eyes partially obscured. They reach the back together, the ship’s large bay door shut against the End and void around them. X watches Ex’s face, their tail flicking agitatedly. Their hands find a depression near the fins of the ship. As they press into it, the door hisses, starts to lower onto the dusty stone below. Exonia scrambles back, catching Xisuma as they do, their hands clasping together again. Xisuma watches as the dark inside floods with the End’s pale glow, illuminating the sparse space within. 

It’s a holding bay—a handful of boxes are scattered around, their heavy plastic lids strapped tight. Bolted storage units line one wall, and a short staircase leads upward, into the space Xisuma can only assume is the main cabin of whoever that figure was.

Xisuma blinks. 

Exonia enters.

Enters is a loose term, because as his foot steps onto the metal-ribbed platform, Xisuma feels something crawl it’s way up his spine and turns, much too fast, Ex’s name already jumping from his throat.

There’s a crackle, like the sound of fireworks in the distance, as the sky fills with soft purple light. Xisuma alone watches the figure turn, a large, dark object cradled in their arms, and feels them stare back. Distance and the helm obscuring most of their face doesn’t do their features justice—it looks like a man, a human, staring back at him, eyes wide and bright, expression unreadable from here. All Xisuma knows is that the chill starts at the base of his neck and pulls through him, catching his lungs and heart and spine all the way down, hooking him in place. 

“Xisuma—” Exonia starts, tone bordering on impatient, but as they turn, they see exactly what they did. And they say again, their voice taking a fine, fearful edge:

“Xisuma.”

The figure starts toward them, and X can feel the immediate betrayal of all his senses, all at once, as his hackles raise, body recoiling until his feet hit the cold metal of the ship behind him. Exonia grabs his arm as he stumbles from the platform, tugging him away from the ship as the figure starts to close the distance between them. The man is carrying the dragon egg, much too large for his arms as he calls out to them.

“Hey! Wait! Wait!” The man calls. Xisuma stutters as he tries to scramble away, skittering to a stop at the man’s plea. As he turns to look over his shoulder, against all better judgment, he realizes the man has crouched by the entry door, egg still in his arms. The beat between the man stopping, dropping to a crouch to make himself small, and his next words is a rift Xisuma considers just jumping into. He wills a small, shaky breath into his lungs. The man sets the egg at his feet, hands spread.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breath evening as he stills for a moment. “I didn’t mean to scare you away. The dragon looked pretty dangerous!”

Xisuma blinks, breathing hard. Exonia manages to summon the courage he can’t seem to even taste, voice coming small from beside him.

“Who are you?” they muster. The man dips his head.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says slowly. “I’m Keralis. Are you two from here?” 

Xisuma shakes his head. The man, Keralis, nods.

“Are you lost? Do you need help going home?” 

Xisuma offers a nod this time.

“Do you… know where home is?”

There’s a beat. The silence stretches on in the absence of anyone’s voice or actions, until Ex finally says:

“Not anymore. ‘S too far.”

Keralis doesn’t say anything for a moment. He stares instead down at the egg in his arms, the only expression on his face evident by his eyes through his visor. Xisuma watches him, trying to read that expression and coming up blank. It doesn’t look malicious, though. He’s begun to settle from the razor’s edge of nervousness and back down into a sense of normalcy. 

“I don’t want to leave you here. I…” Keralis hums. “I can take you back with me. And then maybe there will be someone who can help you get home, how about that?”

“Where’re you from?” Exonia asks. Keralis smiles—Xisuma can tell by the squint of his eyes.

“I’m from a ship. A spaceship in the sky.”

[jamiethebeeart]

Day 6: Crossover (I went the "smash 2 things together into one" rather than "characters crossing over into another universe" interpretation of the prompt)

Tucker Spinner and Danny Shigaraki, Anastasia Spinner and Dimitri Shigaraki, and Pitch Black Spinner and Jack Frost Shigaraki.... I spiraled on this one (whoops)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Wait are writing a fic for your au cause im like down to clown with that?

ehhhhhh not really, unless by some miracle genuine writing motivation/inspiration hits, which is about as rare as a lightning strike these days!

sometimes i jot down scenes or conversations & post unedited snippets, but i haven't written a full fic or oneshot in.... since February! but hey! chances are low but never zero

[wizardofgoodfortune]

Gonna go ahead and ask you #58 on your Spotify wrapped while I'm thinking about it

#58 on my top songs is mirrorball by taylor swift! this is definitely one of my fav songs from her, if not The Favorite; a vivid music video plays out in my head every time i listen to it. here's my favorite part from it, which can definitely lend itself to particular dreamling scenarios... like 1989.

And they called off the circus, burned the disco down When they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me

---

When his stranger didn't show up in 1989, Hob spent the whole day waiting for him. The whole night, too. He heard the last call but stayed long after, until the bartender—Ian was his name, Hob learned at one point—had to kick him out so they could lock up. To Ian's credit, he did it with his most apologetic face.

"Sorry, Hob," Ian said as he locked up the front door of the tavern. "Feel free to come back 'round tomorrow. Promise the place'll still be here by then."

Hob, who was hovering listlessly beside him, gave him a smile. "You'll regret you said that."

Ian laughed. "I'll never regret having more regulars. God knows we need it."

Hob frowned. Right. He nearly forgot about that.

"Need a lift?" Ian offered, fishing out a different set of keys from inside his pockets. "You've drunk quite a lot."

"I'm fine, I just need to—" Hob took a deep breath, "—I need to walk it off."

Ian narrowed his eyes. "Sure? I better not read about you in the papers tomorrow."

Hob snorted. "Trust me, you won't."

With that, Hob stood in front of the tavern and watched Ian drive off, until the old man rounded a corner and disappeared.

Now that he was alone, Hob slumped down on the damp ground and leaned against the front door. They've probably replaced this door more times than he could count, along with the rest of the tavern. Century after century, Hob saw less and less of what used to be here 600 years ago: the chairs, the tables, the mugs, the godawful drinks. The closest thing to permanence this tavern had was its name, and, up until tonight, his stranger. And soon, it wouldn't even have itself.

Hob reached into his coat pocket and took out his lighter and a carton of cigarettes. As he watched London's everchanging skyline glitter above the Thames, he lit a cigarette, the orange of it glowing in the dark. He sat there, waiting, waiting, waiting. He was good at that, at waiting. All you had to have for waiting was time, and Hob had it in abundance. So he waited until the sun rose, until the streets came alive with cars and people, until Ian came back to open up.

"Oi, what happened to walking it off?!" Ian exclaimed, standing over Hob, shielding him from the noon sun. "Bloody hell. C'mon now. Up you go."

Hob let himself be corralled into the tavern's small office and be sat at the small couch that was probably meant for interviews and terminations. He drank the water and aspirin placed in front of him, and he wore the spare shirt lent to him, but he left Ian's questions unanswered.

"Y'know," Hob started as soon as Ian came back in from the bar, "I reckon I could do a good job running a tavern."

"You should be asleep," Ian said accusatorily.

Maybe he should've been. But instead, Hob was sitting upright, wide awake. "I've been in countless taverns, just like this," he continued, "and I reckon I could make a great one. It would be so great that people from all over the world would come to eat and drink there, and say, 'Hey look, it's Hob's tavern, the greatest one around!' And d'you know what the best part about it would be?"

Ian sighed and leaned on his desk. "What?"

"It would be so great that they'd never close it down. They wouldn't be able to. Everyone would rally around it, even the council. And it'd be there for, for centuries. No, millennia. No, forever."

Ian shook his head, smiling. "A beautiful dream."

"A dream?" Hob scrunched his eyebrows. "You don't believe me?"

"Hob, this tavern has been here for centuries. That's a pretty good run, I'd say. Before that, it might've been something else, like a house, or a barn, or something. And before that, it was probably an empty plot of land, or maybe it was full of trees. Maybe bloody dinosaurs lived and died here. Or maybe it was underwater, I dunno. But I'm getting away from the point," Ian said, scratching his scraggly beard. "The point is: things change. That's life."

Suddenly, Hob was reminded of that night a hundred years ago, how his stranger detested the implication that he changed, that he grew to be lonely, lonely enough to seek out companionship. Hob's companionship. Obviously he detested the implication enough to not show up yesterday. But maybe, just maybe, his stranger will show up again today or the next day, just to prove a point, just to say he didn't need him to be his friend, and to say goodbye for the last time. Surely his stranger's not cruel enough to not show up at all, right?

"I, I know, but I can't let this place change, at least not yet," Hob said. His desperation must've plain on his face from the way Ian smiled sadly at him.

"And why's that?"

"My friend and I," Hob paused, thinking about what to say, "this place is important to us."

"You can always find another place."

"He won't," Hob said, voice breaking, "he won't be able to find me."

"How sure are you that he won't?"

Hob put his head into his hands. "I'm sure."

"You don't have his number?"

Hob shook his head.

Ian sighed. "Well, like I said last night, you'll need a lot of money to—"

"I have the money," Hob blurted out.

"What's that?"

"I," Hob repeated, raising his head in realization, "I have the money."

Ian only looked at him.

"I can, I can keep this place alive until he comes back."

Ian regarded him wordlessly for a few more seconds, then said, "I appreciate the thought, I do, but I reckon you can just establish a new one and it'll be less expensive. You can always, I dunno, put up some signs. 'This way to the new tavern' or something. Then when your friend comes around, they'll just read your sign and go to the new tavern."

Hob stared at Ian, mouth hanging open. Then he laughed, feeling a sleep-deprived lightness in his chest. He stood up and held Ian by his shoulders, still smiling. "Ian, you're a genius."

Ian chuckled heartily. "I try."

"And you're a hired genius."

"Pardon?"

"I'll need a bartender for the new tavern," Hob said, grinning.

Ian scoffed in disbelief, but he was smiling. "And what'll you name it?"

Hob thought for a second, then settled on: "The New Tavern."

Ian chortled. "You need sleep. Dearly."

---

send me a number and i'll write something based on the corresponding song in my spotify wrapped!

[seafleece]

After the transformation (death) of a friend, Shadowheart and Karlach go on a journey to take their effects home.

--

They’re not dead, just gone.

They’re not dead, just gone.

(She tries to think about Omeluum. She tries not to think about how Omeluum is not the name of its old host.)

It’s easiest to pray to Selûne on their behalf. When it’s not about them, she never knows what to say.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

changeling!steve part 2

part like. 0.5

part 1 (part 1 ao3)

ok so definitely the most fun part of any fae au is imagining the fae realm like. ooo alternate dimension thats pretty and creepy at the same time??? stunning, conceptually. basically i imagine it like the bubble in annihilation (great movie that was definitely about humans traveling into the fae realm and nothing can convince me otherwise).

and so far steve’s only been in there alone. it’s not really safe or healthy for humans to be there for too long (again this is a sign for you to watch annihilation on netflix if you don’t mind body horror and psychological horror. very spiral based if you subscribe to the magnus archives fear sorting system). he definitely wouldn’t take any of the party there if he could help it. eddie might be fine, but the very nature of the fae realm really wouldn’t mesh with the highly curious and intellectual minds of most of his friends. if the upside down is the human dimension turned upside down, then the fae realm is the human world turned sideways and inside out.

the whole place feels different. as weird and unsettling as the upside down is, it still feels fundamentally the same as the human world, just if the earth had had an entirely different geological and evolutionary history. but in the fae realm, it’s like the very atoms are put together differently. it’s hard to put your finger on it really. for all intents and purposes it looks like a normal forest on a sunny summer’s day. but it’s a little too bright, and it’s hard to tell where the light comes from, really. there might be a sun peeking through the dense canopy, but nothing casts shadows. the light seems to come from the trees themselves in a very strange way, not like a tree shaped lamp or anything but like the light starts in the air around the trunks. steve had to learn to turn his brain off every time he visited, like the more he tried to think and make sense of his surroundings the more his head hurt and his stomach turned. and that’s steve; dustin or nancy wouldn’t stand a chance.

unfortunately, he doesn’t really have a choice here. eddie’s dying, and they definitely don’t have the time to make it back to the gate and then all the way to the hospital before the magic keeping him alive gives up and he bleeds out. steve needs a shortcut. so he thinks quickly, ties jackets around his, nancy’s, robin’s, and dustin’s waists until they’re tied together like links in a daisy chain. warns him as best he can about the dangers of the fae realm as he bundles eddie into his arms, never more thankful for his unnatural strength than he is right now.

he tells the humans of the group to stay focused, keep their eyes on the back of the person in front of them, and that no matter what they hear they can’t look away. it’s so, so easy for a human to get lost in the fae realm, that’s practically what it’s for, and he’s not risking anything. tells them if they somehow get separated, to put their shirt on inside out and start walking backwards, to not stop unless steve shows up and picks them up bodily. under no circumstances should they follow any voices calling out for them, even if it sounds like one of their party.

when they’ve all repeated his instructions back to him, shown they’re taking this seriously (he knows the inside-out shirt thing sounds dumb, but it works. he’s not unconvinced that the tried-and-true methods for getting out of the fae realm aren’t supposed to sound dumb, like the universe left loopholes in fae magic that are so stupid humans dismiss them out of hand, getting stuck just because they don’t want to look ridiculous), he gets to opening a doorway. he’s glad he practiced before this, doesn’t have to hang around waiting, and soon there’s a little space between the twisted trees of the upside down where the light looks a little different, the air smells a little sweeter.

he leads them in, and the second his foot hits the soft, pillowy moss of the fae realm, all of his injuries seem to disappear. he breathes a sigh of relief, even if the rest of the group hisses in surprise as their eyes struggle to adjust to the harsh light. more magic funnels into him, and he sends all of it to eddie’s fragile form in his arms, willing the witch’s flesh to knit together. just being here has sort of stopped the bleeding; time works strangely in the fae realm, he can feel it trickling slowly over them. eddie’s still technically dying, but now he’s dying at like quarter speed.

steve leads them through the forest, looking for a good place to build a doorway to the hospital and occasionally glancing back at the group to make sure he hasn’t lost anyone. they’re all still with him, and just like he expected, their faces are pinched with pain and nausea, nance and dustin especially. robin’s head keeps twitching like she’s hearing something off to her side and half-turning to look, before remembering her instructions and keeping her eyes resolutely stuck on the back of nancy’s head.

he’s honestly not sure what they’re hearing. whatever magic is built to ensnare humans here doesn’t work on him. there’s probably not any other fae calling out to them- he’s reasonably sure he’s be able to hear it if there were. he’s met other fae a few times, never talking to them for very long, and each interaction has been both confusing for the part of him that still feels human (being raised as such for 18 years before learning otherwise definitely left a mark on his psyche) and deeply refreshing for the part of him that knows he’s not

they make it most of the way through without incident. he doesn’t talk to the group behind him, doesn’t want to confuse them further when he already said not to trust anything they hear in this place. but he talks to eddie, bundled in his arms and slipping in and out of consciousness, tells him it’s okay, steve’s got him, they’re almost at the hospital. tries to crack a joke and tells him to hold the blood in, which earns him a weak huff of laughter that lights up his heart until it turns into wet coughing.

eddie has to be okay. steve isn’t entertaining any other possibility.

he’s just found a good place for a doorway, two trees bent together in an arch in just the right location for steve to link it to the park right by the hospital, when he sees the fairy. they’re currently in the shape of another tree, but steve can see them plain as day as long as he’s not using his eyes. they’re watching him, watching the gaggle of humans he’s brought into their land, watching the witch currently bleeding out in steve’s arms. a breeze like a sigh ruffles through their leaves, the bow of their branches looks almost pitying. they don’t say anything as he passes them, and neither does he.

they’re all through the doorway in another beat of a heart. dustin lets out a gasp of relief as soon as they hit the cool night air, and nancy quickly unties herself to throw up into a bush. steve wants to check in on them, but eddie’s bleeding has picked up again now that they’re back in a dimension where time means something.

robin smiles at him reassuringly, regardless of how pale she looks. ‘i’ve got them. get him inside, quick.’

and steve does, rushing towards the hospital doors with the closest thing a fairy can get to a prayer sitting heavy on his tongue.

eddie can’t die. steve won’t let him.

....

tag list: @wonderland-girl143-blog @estrellami-1 @tauntedperfume @he-she-steveharrington @imfinereallyy @fairytalesreality @swimmingbirdrunningrock @pyrohonk 

[daddyplasmius]

hand on my stupid heart flashbacks

this is a No One Knows AU & Full Hazmat AU where Danny ended up in the Ghost Zone & didn't go back into the human world initially because he thought he was dead. by the time he realized he is, in fact, at least half alive, he'd already been missing for at least 2 weeks. will probs never finish homsh sorry. i wrote this a couple years ago in a haze & just haven't been able to finish it because i can't replicate the style, which i find is what i love about this fic the most. it wouldn't be the same without it. posting the flashback introsーwhich are meant to be read between chapters/the actual plot, starting after chapter 1ーcuz fuck it. excuse typos & shit, i never properly edited it, as i forgot it existed immediately after i wrote it original description of homsh: Danny Fenton has officially been missing for over a year. Maddie & Jack Fenton refuse to give up on their son. Sick and tired of the police running them in circles, and the case getting colder by the day, the Fentons turn to their last resortーPhantom. 800~ words (full unfinished fic is 20k~)

-

When Danny woke up surrounded by thick, green fog, and couldn’t breathe without swallowing heavy air that was more like water than anything, he was sure he was dead. The portal glowed behind him, illuminating the pitch darkness around him in soft, yellow, warm light.

He almost went back.

Almost.

He was dead. His parents were ghost hunters. They had drilled into his head from the moment he was born that he could never, ever panic in death. That he would accept it. That he would not be scared. So he would be prepared to be brave in the face of death and would not become a ghost.

He panicked. He did not accept it. He was terrified. And so he woke up in the Ghost Zone.

-

Danny went back through the portal when he saw some ectopuses acting… strange. Like they had an idea in their heads. Like they had a plan.

Which was weird, with animal ghosts. He had only been in the Ghost Zoneーmom and dad called it that, he rememberedーfor a couple weeks. Or, he had already been there for two weeks. Or maybe time worked differently and he was there five minutes, or four years orー

The ectopuses went through the portal and, despite everything, Danny went after them.

While he was busy reeling at being home, the ectopuses immediately attacked dad. Danny was horrified. Jack was overwhelmed. Danny stepped in, in a moment fueled by sheer adrenaline and stupidity, snatching a Fenton Thermos™ off a shelf and releasing his shaky invisibility. The ectopuses didn’t stand a chance. And when they were safely in the Thermos, he slowly turned around to dad, ready for the confrontation. Ready for the “what happened to you?” and the “where have you been?” and the “we’ve missed you”.

Dad scrambled to shoot at him.

Danny fled.

His parents didn’t recognize him.

-

The Lunch Lady attacked when Danny was mourning Halloween.

He’d waited all year. He made a costume that summer. He wouldn’t get to go trick or treating with Sam and Tucker this year. Or any year. For the rest of his lifeーor existence. Whatever.

The Lunch Lady appeared in the school and demanded in straight fury, “Who changed the menu?”

Everyone pointed at Sam.

Danny hadn’t known just how powerful ghosts could be. His parents never told him the specifics. Just that they were dangerous.

This ghost grew and her aura hit him like a hurricane, almost physically pushing him back. It was so strong that the students in the Casper High cafeteria seemed to feel it too.

The Lunch Lady was a much harder opponent than the ectopuses. She levitated meat. She used it as a weapon, and seemed to bring it back to life. She created weird meat creatures that grew sharp teeth and claws out of bones. They were mindless, attacking everything that got too close to the ghost. Danny would have run away without hesitation, if Sam hadn’t been in the crossfire.

Danny fought the Lunch Lady. It was a long struggle, but he caught her in the thermos after over an hour. When he turned to Sam and Tuckerーboth of whom he had to save due to Tucker trying to jump into the fightーall three of them bloody and bruised, he cringed. But a part of him hoped. Desperately.

Surely they would know him on sight.

“Wh-what are you?” Sam gasped at him finally.

Danny flinched as if she had struck him. “J-just… your friendly neighbourhood phantom.”

-

Danny didn’t know what possessed him. Oh. Pun not intended.

He just barely caught the Fentons leaving in the GAV, dragging suitcases behind them. He couldn’t help himself. What on Earth were they doing?

They were going to Vlad Master’s mansion for their college reunion.

It was a whole thing. But something was off. Besides all the adults reminiscing about the 80’s.

Danny sensed ghosts immediately but he couldn’t see anything. Unfortunately for him, Vlad could also sense him. It was two days of Danny staying invisible, and Vladーthe halfa? Is that what Danny is?ーtrying to kill Jack. Somehow, Danny managed to fight off Vlad, not turn back, and without the Fentons getting hurt. His secret intact.

VladーPlasmius, also learned about Phantom. And Vlad hated him. The manーghostーwhatever, seemed to only care about one thingーpossession. Of money. Of things. Of people. He was more ghost than Danny had ever seen. Vlad’s obsession was overwhelming.

Danny couldn’t believe someone so much like himself could be so disturbing.

[fezwearingjellybananas]

RULES: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence

Tagged by @alittleflashvibe thank you! I am very excited to read your fic from that sentence. I haven't done mountains and mountains of writing for the past few days (having a break after somehow managing to get those other fics done), but I have finally had an idea for the Wally Fic! Still a little bit between what I have and the part I've just written, but I am having Ideas so here's a sentence:

“Time is a gift,” Henry said.

Tagging @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @shrinkthisviolet @angst-is-love-angst-is-life @kitkatt0430 @ftl-faster-than-life @simpledontmeanpeachy if you'd like?