#so if you see this then GO FORTH!! post about your wips!!! i want to see them!!!!

[spadeyhearty]

WIP Tag Game!

Tagged by the lovely @mellioops!! Thanks, Mel!! :D

Original Post Rules (from @\fallen-knight): In a new post, list the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I, uh... I thought about cutting this list down, but then I decided to go ahead and put myself fully on blast 😂 So be warned! My WIP list is long! File names in italics have less substance than proper works in progress and are really more just like ideas, but I didn't wanna leave em out, so they are here too! :)

For anyone interested in asking about any of these (🥺💕 I love you and I would love to talk about any and all of them): some (many) of these stories involve material that might not be everyone's cup of tea, so I've thrown in some emojis as quick little warning indicators!

🔬 = RPF

⚠️ = sensitive content

🌶️ = spicy content

🔪 = violent content

MCYT

Grian/Scar:

scarian permit office ⚠️🌶️

scarian beach ⚠️🌶️

scarian hotguy rewrite

scarian assassin AU 🌶️

scarian one-sided pining 🔬

more problematic hgcg ⚠️🌶️🔪

scarian preening side a side b 🌶️

scarian pirates 🌶️🔪

scarian ghost hunters 🌶️

scarian omegaverse auction ⚠️🌶️

Etho/Joel:

cyberpunk nightclub reviews 🌶️

smalletho wintry vibes ⚠️

smalletho cohabitation ⚠️🌶️

smalletho wish you were gay 🔬🌶️

smalletho stranded 🔬🌶️

smalletho shrine AU 🔪

smalletho detective AU 🔪

smalletho monster AU 🌶️🔪

smalletho ghost AU 🔪

Etho/Gem:

Etho is about to be eaten by a zombie when Gem runs it over with her car 🌶️🔪

gemtho voyeurism ⚠️🌶️

gemtho reunion ⚠️🌶️

gemtho phonesex 🔬🌶️

Grian/Sam (+Taurtis, +Scar):

skyrim egg AU

kov sam grian study

kov ot3 snuggles

scariam fwb 🌶️

Jimmy/Joel (+Grian):

smallidarity wedding misbehavior 🔬🌶️

smallidarian con hotel 🔬🌶️

smallidarity skiing 🔬

Grian/Mumbo:

grumbo avian dystopia AU 🌶️🔪

grumbo bj 🌶️

grumbo road trip 🔬🌶️

Jimmy/Tango (+Skizz):

skranchers B&B AU

ranchers space western AU 🔪

Gem/Scar (+Pearl):

gemscar omegaverse ⚠️🌶️

gemscarpearl villain AU 🌶️

Gem/Pearl:

gempearl omegaverse ⚠️🌶️

gempearl roommate AU ��🌶️

Miscellaneous:

DO2 card spirit backstory 🌶️

junioron (mumbo oc fic)

murder mystery CYOA 🔪

jimmy warden oneshot ⚠️🌶️

jimmy lizzie bam bunker 🌶️

gemskizz homewrecking 🔬🌶️

firebeans rivals 🔪

seamavbo footwashing 🌶️

gembeans sleepover 🔬🌶️

ATLA

zei wst vignettes

jetko roadtrip AU 🌶️

jetko canon divergence 🔪🌶️

jinjetko canon divergence 🌶️

One Piece

acesabo heist AU 🌶️

zosan soulmates

Blue Lock

kunigiri canonverse vignettes 🌶️

Ouran High School Host Club

kyokao solace ⚠️

...Whew. That's 56 WIPs, for those of you keeping track at home! TTwTT Let it be known that I am Not Good at finishing things. But Oh Boy do I evidently LOVE to start them!

Tagging: Open tag to anyone who wants to hop on!! :D And also @butterfly-apocalypse whose WIPs I adore. Get tagged specifically >:)

[cosmos-kitty]

Do you have any tips for painting with gouache? like how do you get it to stay a nice solid color over a large swath of paper? and how do you blend it so seamlessly?

Of course, here's a few pointers off the top of my head:

1. I've used gouache for this in the past so it's possible, but the flat backdrop on my latest WIP is actually acrylic! A nifty thing I've found about putting a layer of acrylic down, is that it creates a barrier once dried and essentially makes the paper waterproof. This means you can work in gouache on top without it mixing with the background, and you can wet a section and completely wipe it clean with a cloth/tissue and it won't disturb the acrylic layer underneath. It also makes the paper more resilient, and you don't get as much pilling/tearing from the moisture

To get an even wash it's mostly getting the right consistency, I add just a little water - enough that the paint is less "tacky" as you drag your brush along paper, but not so much that it's runny or translucent. It takes a couple of attempts sometimes!

2. Also for the current WIP that I posted earlier, like the vast majority of my traditional pieces, keep in mind that it's mixed media. So I assume you're referring to the blue-green gradient on the bird and wondering how I got the gouache to blend like that - it's actually colouring pencils! I'll often switch between dry and wet media, even layer them back and forth, whatever makes the most sense to get the effect I want 😁

3. On that note, when you're working with paint, or any medium really, I can't recommend enough having a "test" sheet that you do both before and during a traditional piece. It allows you try out different medium combos, see what shade your gouache will dry into, and catch any issues before it ends up on your artwork. I often see artists being encouraged to just Bob Ross their way through a piece, the idea being that you'll just have happy little accidents that you'll naturally work into the piece - maybe, but you'll also possibly irreversibly wreck your hard work and have to start again. I don't know, I'm just a methodical person I guess, but seeing someone just directly apply something to the page when they're not sure what it's going to do makes me wince - no two art supplies are the same! All of those paints and pens have different chemical makeups, there's an unlimited number of ways what you're using could interact, good or bad.

Since it's already there, I usually reuse one of the leftover failsons from the process of making the wash background, then test everything on top of that. That way you can see exactly what shade the paint will dry on top of whatever colour the background is:

Doesn't need to look good, nobody sees it (usually) and you can also test the thickness of your brushstrokes while you're at it.

Anyway, I hope this helps!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Happy weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The car comes to a stop. It takes you a minute to notice as you reel yourself back to reality. You blink through the tinted window as Merv turns the music down; a song about glory days or something. 

“Here we are,” he announces and cranes to look back at you, “have fun, miss.” 

“Have fun...” you whisper to yourself in confusion, “what? Where do I go?” 

He laughs, not mockingly, and he points through the window, “well, you’ll want to go into that restaurant and give them Mr. Barnes’ name. They’ll sort you out, I’m sure.” 

“Oh,” your brows draw together. A restaurant. What? 

You undo your seatbelt hesitantly and peer out through the glass again. This is strange. You’ve only had a few interviews and most of them were in cramped backrooms or closets. You pull the handle and let yourself out, thanking Merv before you step up on the curb. 

You shut the car door and hook your bag over your shoulder. You stare up at the restaurant’s marquee. It’s a bistro of some sort. Upscale by your measure, thought you have little experience beyond chain joints and fast food. The white facade with its tall windows is intimidating as you approach the entrance. 

As you step inside, you’re all but assured that you don’t belong. A woman greets you with a pearly smile, her hair in a wispy bun, as she sports a flowery white dress. You look back and forth as she cradles a tablet in one arm. 

“Do you have a reservation?” She asks. 

You look down at yourself. That’s a generous assumption. You don’t know how she’s not telling you to leave. 

“Erm, I... I think I’m looking for someone,” you say, “Mr. Barnes?” 

“Barnes, yes, party for two,” she taps the screen, “he’s waiting. Won’t you follow me?” 

She spins on her heels and strolls away. She’s tall and gorgeous, just like the woman at the casino. You peer around and find no less finery and beauty among the staff and diners. The table are all white and polished and the walls are hung with abstract paintings of heaping fruit and bright cocktails. You’ve never seen brunch done so extravagantly. 

You nearly trip as you look ahead just before you reach the stairs. The hostess climbs ahead of you. You envy her modelesque figure. How is she stuck here? She’s breathtaking. She could be in magazines. 

More importantly, where are you going? 

Several flights and you emerge into the open air. You've never been on a rooftop. You’ve seen things like these in movies. There’s a bar center to the space and tables beneath umbrellas set all about. There is only one diner despite the sunshine. It is strangely desolate for such a warm scene. 

You’re led to the only occupied table. Mr. Barnes stands as you near. He wears a pair of teal slacks and a patterned shirt with an open collar. Casual but just as refined as before. It hardly seems like job interview. 

“Doll,” he greets you with a kiss on the cheek to your surprise. You don’t comment on it, it might just be his way. “You made it.” 

“I...” you check your watch, “it was before noon when I got to the casino.” 

“That’s on me,” he insists as he pulls out the chair for you, “I got restless. Changed my mind. Please.” 

He gestures to the seat and you accept stiffly, moving your bag into your lap as he tucks the chair in under you. He resumes his seat and looks up at the woman patiently standing to the side, “Melody,” he says, “she’ll have a vodka cran, give me my usual. Thanks.” 

“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” she replies eagerly. 

“Oh, and the lunch menu,” he returns. 

She clacks off in her heels as you squirm and clutch your purse. You peer around the rooftop and finally at Bucky. You give a sheepish smile. 

“This is a nice place.” 

“Sure is,” he sits back carelessly. There is no tension in him but your wound tight as a spring. 

“Never been anywhere like this...” your eyes drift over and you stare at the city skyline. 

“Made sure we weren’t near the edge, doll,” he assures, “I remember you’re not a fan.” He rests a hand on the table, rubbing his index and thumb. “And I wanted to have this time alone so my pal did me a favour and cleared the roof.” 

“Oh, wow.” 

“He owns this place,” he shrugs. “Never got into the restaurant business. It’s fickle.” 

You nod, not knowing what to say. He knows about these things. Obviously, a lot. You’ve never even worked a full-time week of work. 

“How’s your sister?” He asks, “I assume you got home safe.” 

“Yes, er, thank you, again, for doing all that,” you bite your lip and his blue eyes catch the gesture as his eyebrow tweaks. “I’m really sorry she did that.” 

“Doll, you’re real sweet apologising for her,” he inclines his head slightly, “but you gotta worry about yourself, don’t ya? That’s why you’re here.” 

The hostess, Melody, reappears and sets down two glasses. Yours is bright red with a lime on the rim and his is dark, no ice. She lays down a menu in front of each of you and straightens her posture. 

“I have to get back to the door but Hailee will be up to help you shortly. Our specials today are a goat cheese and beet salad or a brown sugar salmon with seasonal veggies.” 

“Thanks,” Bucky says as he taps the menu. 

Melody leaves you again and you bend your neck to read the menu. You look for a price beneath the dishes and find none. That can’t be good. 

“I’m not very hungry,” you sit up straight. 

“Doll, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” he circles his hand around his glass, “why don’t you try your drink? Make sure it’s up to snuff.” He sits forward and lifts his own, “cheers.” 

Your hand slips up the condensating glass before you get a grasp on it. You raise it and clink it against his. You bring it to your lips slowly as he does the same, mirroring you as he watches you intently. You gulp and set down the glass as your cheeks strain. 

“You don’t like it?” He wonders. 

“No, I... well, I don’t drink much,” you take the cloth napkin and dab your lips. 

“Ah, if that’s too tart, you can have a look at the cocktails. Some of them are so sweet, you wouldn’t know the difference.” 

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “so...” you swallow and force out your breath, “about the job--” 

“Damn, doll, I’m so all over the place lately, I didn’t even tell you how good you look.” 

“I...” your eyes widen but you quickly wipe away your shock, “that’s nice. I mean, thank you.” Your voice shakes as you struggle to comprehend the compliment. What do you say? “You too.” 

He smirks, “yeah, you think so?” 

“What?” Your voice cracks. 

“You think I look good?” He combs his fingers through his long hair. Oh god. 

“Yes,” you answer cautiously, “I like your shirt.” 

“You’re adorable,” he snickers and shakes his head, leaning forward once more, bending his arms against the table. 

“Uh...” you peek down at the table and back to him. You can’t even blame the sun that you’re about to melt. The umbrella blocks out the bright beacon though a glare comes over the edge. “Bucky, sir, Mr. Barnes,” you shuffle through his titles, “the job. What would that be?” 

His brows rise and he brings a hand up to drag over his mouth and beard, his fingers brushing along the trim of his jaw. 

“The job,” he repeats as he narrows his eyes, “ah,” he lowers his head and presses a fingertip to the menu, “let’s order before we get into all that.” 

You look over the menu again then raise your chin, “I appreciate it, but it’s too much, Bucky. I wouldn’t want to... waste your money.” 

“It’s my money,” he looks at you, “so I’ll decide how I waste it.” 

“Oh,” your cheeks set alight, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he tilts his head again, “you’re just that type of girl. You don’t know what it is to be treated so allow me to show you.” 

You’re confused. This is the oddest encounter you’ve ever had. You almost feel like it’s a joke. You’re this poor helpless girl and he’s flaunting how rich and powerful he is. Is there even a job? 

“I’d feel worse if you didn’t eat, so doll, don’t step on my toes.” 

You chew your cheek and look down again. That’s it. You’ll have the cucumber sandwich. That’s not too much. It can’t be. 

The waitress arrives, a different woman but just as stunning. She introduces herself as Hailee. Bucky prompts you to order first before he gives his own. As she leaves, you rock slightly in your chair, stilling yourself before you can look weird. 

“So... I could clean or... I could learn something--” 

“Let me stop your there, doll,” he puts a large hand up, his palm rough and lined. “It’s my turn to apologise. I... haven’t been honest with you.” 

Your heart drops and you can’t help the glimmer in your vision. No. You’re going to have to go home and tell your mother you failed again. That you wasted her time and gas. You close your eyes and frown. 

“Doll, doll,” he says and you hear his chair scrape. You open your eyes as he pulls his chair around to sit closer to you, “hey, let me finish here.” 

You look him in the eye. Big mistake. You could drown in the blueness. He smirks and rubs your arm. 

“I’m not... it’s not a job I have to offer you,” he says deliberately, his other hand fluttering on your knee, “I would call it an arrangement. Mutually beneficial.” 

You stare at him. You’re entire being is on fire. You don’t understand what he’s saying, more so, you can barely think with him touching you. 

“But... I need a job,” you sniffle. 

He scoffs, not unkindly, “you’ll have money. I know you got a family, your sister, maybe your parents? Economy’s tough, I know it.” 

“Money? For what?” 

He squeezes your knee and sits up, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he leans even closer, “for your company. For yourself.” 

“What?” Your voice piques sharply. “I don’t...” 

“Look, let’s take it slow here, alright? Today is the taster. We spend some time together, see how we vibe, and go from there. Now I know you went to a whole lot of trouble to get so nice and pretty for me today,” he coaxes, “and I’m not gonna waste your time so you won’t go home empty handed. One thousand.” 

“Thousand?” You breathe. 

“Just for lunch,” he says, “I’d pay a lot more so I’m open to bartering.” 

“That’s... a lot...” you mutter. 

“Nothing’s too much for a girl like you,” his fingers dance along your shoulder. 

“I... I...” you heave each word. 

“Now don’t you freak out,” he’s on the edge of laughing, “doll, I mean it. Just lunch. You and me. Nothing...” he pulls away from you and puts his hands up, “untoward.” 

He stands and moves his chair back across from you. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, “I mean it. Let’s get to know each other. I want to know all about you, doll.” 

“Me?” You gulp. 

“You,” he points over the table, “you must like music. You went to that concert, didn’t ya?” 

You nod and curl your shoulders. 

“What kinda music you like?” 

“Oh, I... old stuff, I guess. Destiny’s Child?” You give a sheepish cringe. 

“Old school,” he remarks, “I like it. Spice girls too?” 

“Yeah,” you clamp your lips together. 

“I’m not teasing ya. I can’t lie and say I never turned the radio up when I heard them,” he chuckles, “no judgment. That goes for you too, alright? When you find out how much I like ABBA, you can’t giggle.” 

Your cheeks dimple as you try not to smile. It’s hard to imagine him listening to Dancing Queen. You push your shoulders higher and look away. 

“Don’t laugh,” he chides. 

“I didn’t,” you turn back to him. 

“Yeah, you’re too nice, that’s why,” he purrs, “you gotta tell me your fave ABBA song.” 

You shrug and he squints cynically, “everyone has one. Come on. Fernando?” You shake your head at his guess. “Waterloo?” Again, no. “Mamma Mia?” Nope. “Take a Chance on Me?” No. “Alright, I surrender, tell me.” 

“Gimme, Gimme, Gimme,” you eke out. 

“Hm, not what I would guess but interesting,” he muses as his eyes wander from your face and back up, “but I at least knew you had taste.” 

He winks and you let out a giggle. Whether your nervous or something else, you can’t untangle all your emotions from one another. Yet you do feel a little better, a little lighter. It’s an unexpected situation but not as bad as you foresaw. 

[ladykailitha]

Staking a Claim Part 2

Hello! We get a resolution to the last cliffhanger and add a second less dire cliffhanger.

I will be posting this on Sundays and Tuesdays until it's completed for a total of six parts. Thursdays will be reserved for whatever story I want to update that week. It might be the soulmate AU, the werewolf AU, or even omega AU. Wednesdays are still for WIP Wednesday.

Part 1

***

Steve woke up with a pressing need to throw up. He sat up in a hurry and looked around. He didn’t recognize his surroundings and didn’t know where to go to empty his guts.

Someone thrust a bucket into his hands and he gratefully puked into it. A warm hand rubbed his back and that person began muttering encouraging inanities.

Finally he was able to stop and he looked up to see who his rescuer was.

“Eddie?” he murmured. “What happened?”

“Hey, babe,” Eddie whispered back. “Don’t worry about that right now. I just need you to keep throwing up whatever’s in your stomach, okay?”

Steve blinked at him a moment before he was forced to vomit again. It came out through his nose as well as his mouth. His nose was raw and his throat wrecked. But he couldn’t stop.

Tears ran down his face as he body continued to reject whatever it was that was causing this.

“That’s right, let it all out.”

Again Steve stopped and he looked up at Eddie mournfully. “I hate this.”

Eddie pulled him into his arms and held him tightly. “You think you can make the short walk to the bathroom?”

Steve nodded and went to go set down the bucket but Eddie stopped him.

“You might want to hold on to that just in case.”

Steve looked at Eddie then back at the bucket. He nodded.

“You hold onto your new friend Mr. Bucket,” Eddie said lightly, “and I’ll hold onto you. Okay?”

Steve nodded again and let Eddie help him to the bathroom. Eddie took the bucket and set it in the bathtub. He opened the toilet seat so if Steve needed to throw up, nothing would impede that and went in search of a spare toothbrush. He didn’t think that any of the guys would want Steve touching theirs and he wasn’t about to let him touch his.

“Eureka!” he whisper shouted. “When you feel up to it, you can use this to brush your teeth.”

Steve stared at him blankly like putting anything in his mouth would be a nightmare right then.

Eddie took a deep breath and held it for a moment. “Right, that’s not important at this moment. Got it. Priorities, Munson. Get it together.”

Tears streamed down Steve’s face and he whispered, “I’m sorry. I tend to ruin everything.” And then promptly began throwing up again. He started to shake as the vomiting and the cold got to him.

Eddie walked out and Steve really began to sob.

Then there was a warm blanket placed around his shoulders. “You didn’t ruin anything, Stevie. I promise I’ll tell you all about it when your well enough to hear it, but it wasn’t your fault.”

Steve sobs became hiccups then the hiccups became sniffles and then Eddie looked down to see that he had fallen asleep.

Eddie rocked him back and forth on the cold bathroom floor, trying hard to not fall in love with this man.

*

When Steve woke up a second time, he was in a cramped bathroom, wrapped in a warm blanket and pressed to Eddie’s side.

Eddie must have felt him stir. “Hey, baby. How you feeling?”

Steve buried his face into Eddie’s neck. “Like I’ve been run over. I didn’t think I drank that much to get this hungover.”

Eddie carded his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Do you still feel like you need to throw up?”

Steve lifted his head as he thought about it. “No. I feel like shit, but not like my guts are going turn themselves inside out.”

“Good,” he said. “I’m glad. Why don’t you take a shower and brush your teeth and I’ll set some clothes for you to change into on the toilet seat, okay?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie helped him to his feet and got the water in the shower started for him.

Steve stripped out of his clothes and got into the shower. He closed the curtain and just let the warm water wash over him. He thought hard about what happened last night.

The only thing he remembered was that he had been having a great time and then nothing. He heard the door open and then close quickly. He peeked around the curtain and saw the clothes on the toilet seat as promised.

Steve relaxed with a sigh. He looked around the shower and was surprised to see how neatly organized it all was. But he didn’t want to take anyone’s shampoo or anything so he just rinsed his hair instead. The body wash on the other hand was something he had to use. He opened each one to smell them, not wanting to grab something that would give him a migraine later.

He settled on the third one. It was woody, like pine. But not super strong or fake smelling. He got to work scrubbing himself down.

Once he no longer felt as though he’d been dragged out of hell by his balls he stepped out of the shower and dried off with the big fluffy towel that was on the hamper.

He dressed in the clothes Eddie had set out for him, complete with underwear. They still had the fold lines and wrinkles fresh from the pack. They were black boxers but then Steve couldn’t really see Eddie wearing anything else.

He slid them on and they were warm and comfortable. Next went the warm sweats and then finally the band shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked and felt like shit. There was nothing for it. He had to go out and face the music.

Or at least Eddie Munson, which as far as Steve was concerned was the same thing.

When he walked out into the main part of the apartment, he could tell it was still early enough that everyone else was in bed, but not so early that it was obscene to be seen awake after a night at the bar.

Steve slid into one of the bar stools at the counter and watched as Eddie made breakfast. Eggs, link sausage, bacon, and hashbrowns.

“That’s a lot,” he murmured. “I’m not sure my stomach is going to appreciate your effort.”

Eddie grinned. “It seems really counter-intuitive, but greasy foods tend fair better on hangovers and upset stomachs. You’d think it’d be the opposite, but nope.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Huh, I never would have thought it either.”

“Why don’t you call someone to let them know you’re okay, while I go rouse the boys?” Eddie suggested as he turned all the heat on the stove to low. He nodded to the phone on the wall.

“Robin!” Steve cried. He looked around for a clock for the exact time. “Shit! I was supposed to be at work twenty minutes ago!”

***

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @lololol-1234 @r0binscript @monsterloverforhire @mugloversonly @live-the-fangirl-life @f0xxyb0xxes @lublix

[cooneyscross]

° *₊ ° . ° .• MASTERLIST and WIPs •. ° . °₊* °

⋆ ★ Kyra Cooney Cross ★⋆

Missed You More | 2.4k It's your first camp back after your ACL injury, but you best friend Kyra's acting strange  ↳ Favourite Pest | 3k You finally find out what's caused Kyra to act so weird Friend of a Friend Charli introduces you and Kyra, and the two of you end up getting along a bit too well [aiming to post it around late August] Forget About it After avoiding her for as long as possible you have to play against the girl who broke your heart so many years ago. [aiming to post it around late August]

-> ⋆ Kyra and Sunny Series ⋆

•.¸¸☆Sam Kerr☆¸¸.•

6ft 5 | 0.9k You're filming a tiktok and Sam wants everyone to know your hers.  ↳ 5ft 8 After signing a contract extension with Chelsea, you can't help teasing Sam over a lie she tells in a video

✧ ✦ ✧ Caitlin Foord ✧ ✦ ✧

Caitlin x child!reader series (coming soon) Squirt You're meeting the Arsenal girls for the first time Popular You find yourself the center of attention when all the girls are fighting to be your favourite But you're my mumma? Caitlin starts spending more time with Katie and less time with you

•♬✧Leah Williamson✧♬•

Enchanted | 1.6k You write a song about England's captain after meeting her briefly at an event not expecting her to share your feelings  ↳ You are in Love After back and forth messaging and a few dates you and Leah begin to go more public with your relationship causing the fans to go wild [posting date tbc] Waldosia | 2.8k a condition in which you keep scanning faces in a crowd looking for a specific person who would have no reason to be there, as if your brain is checking to see whether they're still in your life, subconsciously patting its emotional pockets before it leaves for the day. Maybe in Another Life | 3.3k You hadn't seen Leah since you'd broken up three years ago and now when you see her again you being to regret ever letting her go Buffet (18+) | 1.1k Leah can't resist an all you eat meal, especially when your the main course. baby fever | 1.6k you'd always heard your friends talk about how much they wanted kids but had never felt the same until now. Crossing Loyalties Leah's a red, you're a blue and you 'hate' each other. Well at least that's what the fans think.

⋆ ★ Katie McCabe ★⋆

Take a chance on me | 1.6k With the help of a karaoke machine and a good song, Katie finally confesses her feelings for you Snapchat Katie accidentally leaks your relationship on snapchat with all the fans [posting date tbc] St Patrick's Day You're first time meeting Katie's family is on Saint Patricks day and it's a bit overwhelming [posting date tbc]

∘₊✧ Lionesses ✧₊∘

Winners are Grinners You've just won your first major tournament with your country (teen reader) [posting date tbc]

•.¸¸☆ Matildas ☆¸¸.•

No 1 trio It's a fight to see who the better trio is - Macca, Alanna and Caitlin or You, Mini and Kyra [posting date tbc] Little Menaces You and your best friend Harper Gorry are bored and decide to annoy all your aunties. (part of the Caitlin Foord x child!reader series) [posting date tbc]

⋆ ★ Alexia Putellas ★⋆

Odio Amarte | 1.6k All of your Barca teammates think you and Alexia need to get together, but the two of you are 'enemies'. First Camp It's all to much for you on your first ever Spain camp (teen reader) [posting date tbc] La Reina You finally shoot your shot with the queen of Spain [posting date tbc]

✧ ✦ ✧ Niamh Charles ✧ ✦ ✧

I wanna ruin our friendship Niamh wants more than anything to tell you how she feels but she's to scared to lose her best friend [posting date tbc] Let's tell the world you and Niamh decide it's finally time to go public with your relationship [posting date tbc]

•♬✧ CWFC ✧♬•

We made it After battling injuries, sicknesses and mental health problems for years, you finally made it all the way to the final day

•.¸¸☆AWFC☆¸¸.•

Go away (platonic) You and Kyra are always up to no good, but one day it gets all to much for your Arsenal teammates.

Scare Cam Kyra sets up a scare cam and it doesn't go to plan

✧ ✦ ✧ Lucy Bronze ✧ ✦ ✧

Don't be sorry | 3.1k the matildas lose to england in the semi final of the world cup and you take the blame

[bnhabadass]

I found a wip from last year's kinktober that I never bothered posting. Better late than never! Hope you enjoy :)))

Dabi can’t stand the idea of bringing you back to the league’s base. Aside from the fact that he’d expose their location and risk ruining everything they’ve worked towards, he just couldn’t bear to think about how the others would react to a cute little thing like yourself in their presence. Twice would have a panic attack, Toga would try to cut you, and fucking hand man would probably drool all over himself if he caught sight of your midriff.

Unfortunately, he can't go to your place either any time he wants to get his dick wet. You live with your parents and help out with their business and, well, if a villain showed up on their front porch one day with a joint in one hand and condoms in the other, they’d never let you out of their sight.

And you’re such a pretty sight to behold with perfect tits he needs to suck on every time you see each other and juicy thighs he can’t help but mark with his scorching handprints. You really are perfection. You’re his favorite drug. You’re what he thinks about when he’s jerking himself at three a.m. in his corner of the hideout, back turned so the rest of the league can’t see what he’s doing.

The last time he saw you was a week ago—too long for him to go without his fix. You met behind a bar in the next town over and you jumped on each other as soon as you were together. His hands roamed everywhere. His tongue drew lines across your collarbone and he nipped and sucked on your neck so you were whimpering and begging for more.

He got you off once with your hands pressed against the brick building and his dick sliding back and forth against your puffy clit. He got you off again in the bar bathroom after a round of drinks and your perfect tush wiggling against his lap every time you reached over to take a sip of your beer. You knew what you were doing, placing your glass back on the table just beyond your reach.

Now a week has gone by, and Dabi’s putting his mask on so he can hop on the train without being recognized. You text him a mirror selfie with your panties peeking out from under your too-short skirt and he nearly bursts into flames then and there. Oh the things he’s gonna do to you when you’re back behind the bar.

[thepoetjean-makes-stuff]

HOW TO ACTUALLY WRITE -- THE BASICS (AKA STEP 0-1)

(AKA ThePoetJean justifies their Master's degree and makes it everyone else's problem)

1) "WRITING IS REWRITING" AND WHAT THE HELL THAT MEANS -- No writing is law or set in stone upon the first draft, and whoever taught you that is a bum. Even permanent glue can be removed by nail polish remover, so why is editing your first draft no different? When writing for fun, oftentimes you can edit the post and clean up the story when things are no longer working (it's called a cutting room floor for a reason). When writing for publishing, you'll often be paired with an editor who'll send tweaks back-and-forth to you, chipping away at any structural mistakes or grammar flaws to bring out the point of your writing piece in the process. The first draft is just about getting the general vibes of the story down: like the batter for the cake recipe before you start baking it. This part is meant to be fun and messy and no one expects you to serve them go when you're just cracking your eggs open. Let yourself be messy cuz (burnt or fluffy), this is the first step to making your story, so no need to have something be all pretty and presentable the first time around! Again, a lot of writing is just rewriting cuz drafts are a thing so getting stuff down is most important. And another amazing thing -- if the story sucks, you can always change it later! You gotta trust yourself to get it done in order to get it out to the world one way or another, so go do that!

2) LEARN YOUR OWN WRITING PROCESS! -- (OH MY GOD PPL, LEARN HOW YOU TO THE THING IT'S HALF THE BATTLE!) Most of the struggles I see with newer writers is never learning how they write, and that sucks since have the joy of making things is making the thing -- so why make writing stories so arduos for yourself. Learn your own methods and use them whenever you get to writing! Learn the writerly basics like plot, structure, framing, character voice, setting, time period, etc and learn how best you can utilize them in your own stories! On a purely craft level: Learn ALL THE WRITING CRAFT and keep in mind that all writing craft is meant to be guidelines rather than hard rules. Learn many ways about how to write in general cuz no writing advice is one size fits all and being embarrassed of your process is dumb and hinders your creative growth. Trust yourself as a writer, you'll improve faster that way. Believing you can and believing it's possible is the first step to doing anything! (Plus all writing is rewriting anyhow to there's no need to feel embarrassed about something you can fix later, anyways, right?)

3) Read projects like your project in order to get a better feel of your project. Whether it be writing style references, basic literary craft examples, or just you want to break down the vibes of the stories so you can better emulate in your own -- GO AND WATCH/READ/LISTEN ETC TO WHATEVER STORIES YOU THINK WOULD MATCH THE VIBES OF YOUR OWN!! Now, this isn't a 1-to-1 copy, you're not mean to make a clone of the thing you like or take properties for the IP that you're into -- that's more along the lines of fanfiction (which can be fun and is ofc, super valid) -- BUT! To create your own stories, you need to learn where you get your ideas from, and learn how to implement, borrow, twist, etc from the story structures and properties you gather your inspo from. Other writers are your peers, not your enemies -- so treat their work and your own with the respect it deserves. No two chicken sandwiches are ever exactly the same; true artists steal from many places, so learn how to be a good thief (creatively speaking). Example from my own secret WIP novel: I'm writing a New Adult Urban fantasy novel with a dark, powerful lady protagonist that uses lots of philosophical themes, alternate history perspectives as well as using mythology as a basis for a lot of the magical roots and setting roots. Likewise, this a story about friendship and romance after major loss and trauma, and how to come back to yourself after grief, so I've been looking for stories that cover those themes in their plots, which has made the story a lot more fun to read and write outside of just being a cool concept to play with.

If you're writing a second-chance romance story, read romance stories. If you're writing a sci-fi story with lots of robots, read stories about robots. Presumably, you enjoy the same stories you're writing in concept if not in execution, so don't hesitate to seek those stories out, and break down how those stories work in order to scrap them for literary parts. You're smarter than you think you are, and breaking down stories is a lot of fun once you get the hang of it, so please consider doing this as you go into your next project, your writing will thank you for it!

OPTIONAL:

4) If the story works better as something else, swap the format and see what happens.

Have you ever read something and been like "Huh, I like this book, but with how iconography is used in the actual text, it might be better as a movie or a comic book"? So have I!

So, if you ever feel like the story you're writing isn't working so well as a novel or a play, consider turning it into a movie or a webcomic! Of course, this is all easier said than done, and every writing format comes with its own rules and limitations, but I'd give it a try if you ever want to see your project from a fresh perspective! If nothing else, you'll learn something new -- and become a better writer for it!

Til next time, beloveds~

__

PS. Take all advice with a grain of salt. I am not your parent or your principal, I'm just a lady with a writing degree and a lil free time. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't, etc. PLEASE SHARE THIS POST AROUND TO ANYONE WHO IT MIGHT HELP! THANKIES :3

KOFI: https://ko-fi.com/thepoetjean

[paunchsalazar]

hey so I really enjoyed your kyokao longfic and i was wondering what the writing process was like since im planning on writing a fanfic (first time).

did you plan anything with an outline? or did you wing it?

anyways thanks in advance (and btw im doing another reread of your fic, it's so narratively satisfying!!)

omg woah first!!! thank you so much!!! that is seriously the most touching thing to possibly hear T-T

This is going to be such a long-winded answer but I definitely did not wing it!!! apologies for the long post but I love to see behind the curtain and think about process so...

That fic was my first multi-chapter story and waaaay longer than anything else I’ve ever made… so I kinda had no idea where to start. I wanted to make a rough outline to see if it was even feasible - was there a beginning, middle, and end? Even a super hazy one? before jumping in and writing a whole long project… (I had no idea how long it would be, but knew it was definitely longer than a few thousand words.)

it started as a timeline - trying to keep track of all the canon events via bonus chapters and sketches, then working to fill in the gaps with headcanons. Even though Ouran is silly, by the end they’re operating within a normal timeline lol….

After filling out a lot of the timeline with headcanons then organizing them in chronological order.. started to see the plot/opportunities for change - in the characters, their relationships, the state of their lives - especially with school, moving, etc. all of the above

I tried to make myself a guide to keep organized lol (totally unnecessary, but helped me keep track of things!)

the timeline started as bullet points - if there are any settings or occasions that would justify an “episode” - major holidays, group trip, etc. At least with Ouran, I tried to play around with the settings - The host club has unlimited resources which is a rare luxury… but wanted to keep in the realm of what they might do + think about fancy rich people things they hadn’t yet covered “on screen”

From there, it went to sub-bullet points, then trying to nail down each beat I'd want to cover - through narration or dialogue

It's hard to pin it down but sometimes certain moments - a visual, an exchange of dialogue - play out really clearly in my head… so would occasionally find that moment and then reverse engineer what would lead to that, then follow the thread to where it would potentially go…

Usually went in chronological order or at least made a list of beats all the way through, but then would jump back and forth to fix little things or add in details I realized needed to move sooner/be foreshadowed…

Outline/timeline > beats > rough draft > going line by line to edit + then hopping around to fix things accordingly

I had a lot of different docs... just because they get so big

+ I like to put unfinished things in blue (or any color, I like blue because red feels more negative to me lol) and then change them to black when they feel "locked" or at least like they're functioning. It helps me keep track of how much is left to do + makes it easier to find spots that need attention!

+ also like to have a "cutting room" document for everything I cut/don't know where to put/is redundant in case I want to use it for later, or even just to try to see what I was going for!! I've found it to come in handy down the line

Here are some examples of the WIP bullet points/blurbs lol... I also like to make "off-screen" notes to myself just to keep in mind, I did have a friend beta-reading some parts, but kinda do this for myself anyway just to keep it in mind.

From there it was just writing and rewriting... I usually go through a scene from the beginning and read until something trips me up, try to either fix it or make note of what the intention was and then go on to the next beat. I went chapter by chapter, in order, and tried to get each locked before going on to the next one.

Should also note that this fic took me a long time!! And I wasn't working on it with a super set schedule. It was purely for fun, so I just worked on it when I felt like it (and as it grew, I found myself wanting to work on it more and more! so it was exciting more than a chore).

I talked to friends about it, even if just kinda laughing about headcanons or jokes, and had a few people read through the beats and a few scenes to see if it flowed/if the dialogue sounded in character!

+ I did a lot of revisiting the source material or even just watching a clip when I felt like I was losing their voices. Idk if it was that successful... but it helped to keep them in mind!!

Anyway... I can only speak for what works for me! and I think a lot of these habits are coming from my storyboarding workflow.

Writing is so personal and there is bound to be trial and error!! I hope that you have so much fun writing, whatever approach you take!!!!!

Also what thank you so much for reading my fic at all and for your kindness!! If you ever publish your fic, please send me a link!!! even if it is ages from now!!!!!

[potatomountain]

for the WIP game, I'm curious about "Off the menu"!

so this is one i wanted to post the 16th for someone's birthday BUT i struggled with the smut soooooo

here is the banner for it:

is a restaurant au with single mom new waitress x WooSanSang and its at like 3.5k before the smut so here is a nice little snippet:

“We wanted to celebrate your first official day as a server. Wooyoung and I will be out of here by eight, so would you be down for some drinks tonight? We can drag Yeosang along?” San jumped in, that dimple making an appearance. You thought it over for a moment. You had to go pick up your son but you did make some decent tips today and you hadn’t had a night out in so long… “Let me see if I can get a babysitter for the night?” “What about Riwoo?” Wooyoung asked, calling out to the kid in dish who perked up. “Hey Ri, wanna babysit the kid tonight so we can take Momma out for a celebration?” “Are you paying?” He offered up, drying his hands off and making his way over. Wooyoung grinned. “Sure thing.” “Then I’m up for it. What time?” “Whoa whoa wait-” You cut them off before they could make further plans, attempting to negotiate because you didn’t want to make a coworker watch your son nor did you want another to pay for it. But, after about 10 minutes of back and forth, you admitted defeat, texting Riwoo your address and a time before you were leaving to go pick up your son. “You’re going to fuck her aren’t you?” Riwoo said before the door was completely shut behind you, unsure who it was meant for but you didn’t care. A big part of you wasn’t against the idea at all.

as soon as i get back into the smut mood this will be the next piece i post!!

[stabbyfoxandrew]

hiii!! mafia au today?

WIP Wednesday (9/25) | Mafia Front Restaurant AU (Part 225)

The three of them arrive only minutes before Andrew. Kevin hears obnoxious rapping on the front door just as Jean is unloading grocery bags into the fridge. He can't remember what Jean is making for them today, something good. Kevin knows it'll be good. If he can keep it down. He's an exposed nerve and has been since they left the apartment. Kevin isn't even sure why. Andrew evidently isn't going to post anything about what he saw last night. And truthfully, Kevin knew that all along. Andrew isn't like that. Not really. He's a 'get in your face' type person, not a 'get on the internet' one.

So now Kevin's dreading an 'in your face' confrontation. Neil pushes past him to go answer the door and Kevin immediately goes to the kitchen's little window. He watches Neil let Andrew in and lock the door behind them before going to sit down. The two of them immediately start talking about something Kevin can't hear from here and Neil produces their deck of cards.

After that, Kevin simply can't tear himself away. He isn't sure if it's jealously or... No, he knows that's exactly what it is. He wishes he could waltz out there and strike up a conversation with Andrew as easily as Neil. But he just can't. Not after everything. So he just watches the two of them.

And, anytime Andrew smiles— which is a rare thing— Kevin is transported back to his sophomore year when Andrew was nothing but a mouthful of teeth and sharp words. After Easthaven, Andrew changed. For the better, of course. But he was quiet. Too quiet. And apathetic as a corncob. It's not like that now though. Andrew seems genuinely happy. Or at least content.

It makes Kevin happy to see him this way. Somewhere in between.

Though he's more than a bit devastated to be outside looking in, so to speak. Back at PSU, Kevin was the only one allowed past his walls. And he barely had a foot in the door! How the fuck has Neil pried the door open and climbed all the way inside? In just a few days? Is Neil really so interesting (Andrew liked interesting) or has Andrew changed a lot in the last few years? Maybe both. Definitely both.

"Mon cher?"

Kevin blinks and turns away from the window to find Jean looking at him expectantly. "Oh, sorry. Did you say something?"

Jean gives a heavy sigh. "If you want to talk to him, just go."

"I can't do that, Jean."

"You can. I'm fine with it."

"Are you?"

"Well, mostly. I want you to do what you want. I am not in charge of you," Jean pauses for a moment. "At least, not when we're standing up."

That draws a laugh from Kevin, but it turns into a sigh. "He hates me, Jean."

"He doesn't."

"He has every right to."

"If he does, he's a fool." Jean says with a shrug. "Talk to him or not, but don't obsess about it. Go out there or come to me and help with this."

After a moment's consideration, Kevin makes his choice and goes to Jean's side.

-

The rest of the day passes smoothly. Kevin learns how to (badly) peel potatoes, Jean laughs at him. Neil runs back and forth between them and Andrew. And Andrew doesn't get up from their booth until night falls and it's time to leave. Kevin watches Neil take him to the door and sighs with longing. Jean takes his hand and twirls him around. "Didn't I say not to obsess?"

"I'm not." Kevin lies.

[neverpathia]

WIP Ask: I wanna know about Nerves and Nightmares [of course I do, Paranoid my beloved]. Tell us as much as you can / want without spoiling too much :]

also I love the HC of Paranoid being the resident overworked mom of the Long Quiet, it's the same for my Paranoid

okay.

let me preface this by saying that I probably know as much about this WIP as the average audience member. and why is that? because I actually didn't think about properly plotting it out.

if anything, I was just like "okay I wanna write stp fanfiction for my AU". and then I went ahead and was like "I wanna write it in first person." and then at first I wanted to make cheated the main POV character (so we could've had like 'Rages and Razors' or something I don't even know man) but then I decided. nah. paranoid's better for plot and he's my wife now.

so here we are. what an awkward start to a relationship.

i've blabbed a little about it in the main post so I shall blab a little more about it here. it's cosy fantasy. daily going-ons. a little slice of life. taking care of work. living and learning and changing. dealing with the other voices' bullshit. they all live together in a cosy little village, and he's the resident healer apothecary guy, and there's thankfully no shortage of bullshit to deal with.

this is a story of adaptation and new beginnings. this is a story of tying up loose ends. this is a story of development; of discovery and rediscovery. this is a story of learning to relax, of accepting your flaws, of facing your fears.

above all, this is a story of healing and recovery.

so obviously I had to focus on paranoid because COME ON he's the perfect pick. he's inevitably going to have to interact with everyone because of his job. so we get to see at least one moment with every single voice. he's also kind of unstable by himself, but he's gonna get at least a little better.

there's a truckload of character development. does that count as a spoiler? he learns that the world isn't out to get him, not anymore. that he doesn't have to be so on-guard and mistrustful all the time. and to fucking stop overthinking that much oh my lordy lord.

hero features pretty prominently in this. oh golly gee, I wonder why. totally not like they become boyfriends or anything of the sort. they totally don't learn to acknowledge their flaws through each other. that they might be more similar than they realise. that they don't have to be alone in navigating the overwhelming reality and endless expectations- okay, yeah, that totally never happens. /j

cheated does also feature quite a bit in here though, because he's the star patient. not because he's so cooperative, but because he's paid way too many visits to the infirmary and paranoid is very done. they have a kinda hilarious friendship. like "fuck. you're here again." just ranting back and forth about "god everyone else is so dumb, thank god I'm the only normal person here." (neither of them are normal.)

so if you like either of the above then yeah. nice.

also just because this is cosy fantasy and no one dies or anything, doesn't mean this is all sunshine and rainbows and 100 percent cruelty-free. far from it. for starters, I have made broken and smitten best friends and if you know how that one platonic smitbroken ficlet went then you will have an idea of how bad it can get. that won't be the only toxic relationship, or even friendship, up in here.

of course not. nightmare's roaming around somewhere in a fic where the mc is we-all-know-who.

and then there's the individual issues of everyone, left alone to fester. it's not just about paranoid. there's hero's guilt and remorse. cheated's bitterness and resignation. but there's still paranoid's overwhelming workload and ever-increasing stress. the fact that he has to deal with the traumas of both himself and his patients.

it's not going to be nice.

and there is at least one attempted suicide. spoiler: I haven't mentioned the perpetrator in this post just yet. wonder who he could be...guess lol. consider that my first warning.

like, I love psychological angst. no death or murder or downright destruction. just people left in the throes of their own worst qualities. that's my fucking speciality.

but we cannot have recovery if there is nothing to be saved from.

and another thing to take heed of: there obviously isn't going to be a lot of smut, but I'm a male writer. there will be women. there will be feminine characters.

so most of the time I'll probably end up fixating on Paranoid's large eyes and billowing hair and delicate features and slender frame and stuff. why? because wife. but sometimes the narration will veer into...uh, say, describing how buxom the Thorn is. consider that my second warning.

[nerdanel01]

Last 6 Lines

Tagged by @buttsonthebeach ! I’m giving the last six for two WIPs, because technically the last thing I was working on was another Veilguard-era one shot, but Love Is A Stranger has been requested so I shall happily provide (I have sort of been bopping back and forth between the two of them.)

Not going to tag anyone in particular because I always feel just a weeeee bit self-conscious about Love Is A Stranger, but if anyone does see this and post tag me so I can read your wips 👀

——

“Agn—Rook, please. Will you let me heal you now?”

Agnes did not think she could bear it.

But in that moment, she could not bear the pain itself either, not without screaming aloud again.

‘Fucking piss and shit….’ “Fine,” she consented, through clenched teeth, “fine, magic, now, please—”

He had been waiting for her permission, sprung into action as soon as he had it.

Agnes felt him lay his hands upon her.

Then, she felt his magic follow.

and, as requested……

Emmrich had stopped in front of the toy-makers cart. As Agnes caught up to him, she saw more clearly the nervous grin on his face, the wrinkle in his brow. When he caught sight of her jogging towards him, his expression smoothed into one of embarrassed relief.

“I confess, I do not know what is appropriate for a boy of his age,” he said. “I did not want to purchase anything that would be dangerous for him—will you help me?”

[p-artsypants]

Blurb #63

I'm going to try to share 70 blurbs from my WIPs and unfinished fics to celebrate reaching 70 posted fics! To help with this endeavor, please feel free to send me a word or a fandom you know I write for, and I'll share the blurb. IDK if I'll get 70 prompts, but let's try it! Send as many as you want!

“How did I successfully revive you?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

“Well, that’s the interesting part. It’s all about how you were frozen. Most bodies from your time period that we find in ice are mummified or you know, some state of very very dead. But you…you were frozen so quickly,” he snapped his fingers, “everything was perfectly preserved. Normally, when the human body freezes, ice forms inside and can tear apart organs and destroy the body. But that didn’t happen with you. So…how were you frozen?” 

Hiccup swallowed thickly, his last memories coming forth in his mind. The Bewilderbeast, Drago…his father. 

“You know what?” John interrupted. “We can talk about that later. It seems like a sore spot.” 

“...it’s…awful,” Hiccup whispered. He closed his eyes as he kept replaying those moments. And it wasn’t just scary being frozen, but he thought about everyone else that was there. Astrid, his mom, Gobber, the rest of the riders…even the rest of the village like Bucket and Mulch. “Are they all gone?” He breathed. 

“Who?”

“My…my friends, my lover, my family…they’re all…” he covered his mouth as it hit him hard. They weren’t just dead, they were long dead. He never arrived in Valhalla. He was all alone in this weird world, and he had failed to save Berk and the dragons. It was all his fault. 

“Hey hey hey,” John soothed, wrapping a paternal arm around him. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

“No! No its not! I just found my mom! Astrid and I were–and then Drago–!” He sobbed. 

John took him gently by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Hiccup, take a deep breath.”

“You should have left me in that ice…” 

“No, no. Stop that. Listen to me,” he said firmly. “I might get in trouble for this, but I don’t care. You need to know.” 

Hiccup sniffed. “Know what?”

“You…were not the only person we found.” 

His heart started thudding. “How many others?”

John hesitated then said, “about a village full.” 

Hiccup felt boneless as he fell forward onto John’s shoulder in shock. “They…they can be revived too?” 

“Maybe,” John admitted. “That’s why I didn’t really want to tell you.” 

Hiccup raised his head, and braced his arms on his knees. “I’m listening.” 

“Reviving you was a very expensive ordeal. In order to revive anyone else, we need money.” 

“I’m a blacksmith, I’ll get to work right away!” 

John smiled and patted his arm. “I love the enthusiasm, but that’s not necessary. No, what we need from you is simply your cooperation and your story.” 

“My story?” 

“Mmmhmm. We’ll present you to scientific institutions, government agencies, and rich old people. In the presentations, we’ll ask you to introduce yourself. Who are you? What was village life like? What’s your occupation? How’d you lose your leg? And most importantly, how did you train a dragon?” 

At the mere mention, Hiccup sat up straighter, anxiousness setting in. “Toothless! Is he awake? Can I see him?” 

“Not yet, but soon,” John assured. “You are still very weak from your thaw, and too much excitement will cause stress on you. The more calm and relaxed you stay, the sooner you’ll see...did you say his name was Toothless?” 

Hiccup shrugged. “It’s a long story.” 

“Can’t wait to hear it.” 

“I promise, I will relax so much more if I see him and know he’s okay. He…he needs me. He can’t fly without me.” 

“Well, it’s good to know that he can fly. But I suppose you’re right. I’ll check with my team to make sure they’re ready for you.” 

Hiccup heaved a sigh of relief.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: I'm tryna rotate as much as possible.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Her name is Margot. She’s talkative but kind. She guides you through everything with patience. Tells you when to close your eyes and look up, how to hold your head, when to pucker your lips. She even explains exactly what she’s doing and why she’s doing it. Despite her demeanour, you still feel utterly stupid. Rather, you feel inadequate. 

Another woman shows up shortly after, as a brush traces the line of your cheek. She introduces herself as Darla, she has a whole rack of dresses lined up for you. Another inward cringe threatens to compress your lungs. 

As Darla presents you with options, you find it hard to breathe. It’s all so overwhelming, especially as a third woman, Erica, appears to do your hair, and a fourth, Nia, to tend to your nails. You could faint as you’re pushed, pulled, and prodded from all sides. 

“I like the red,” Margot suggests as you hem and haw.  

The dresses are all nice but you don’t even know what you’re picking it for. Honestly, none of them suit you. Too much skin for your liking. Not that that stays much; your comfort is jeans and baggy tees.  

Erika hums, “what about the teal, lovey? I do think you’d look marvelous with those cutouts.” 

“Yes, it is a pretty colour. You have the complexion for it,” Darla remarks. 

They’re all so nice but there’s something pitying in their voices. You feel like a child. You don’t belong here. You especially don’t belong with Bucky, apparently, he knows that too. Why else would he have these women plucking and picking at you? 

Margot finishes and brings you a mirror. As you see yourself, you blanch. It’s not bad. In fact, she’s done better than you could ever manage but you don’t look like yourself. You don’t feel like yourself. If he wants you to be someone else, you don’t think you can do that. 

You feel yourself shrinking. Your shoulders slump and you wilt, stuttering but unable to say a word. Margot touches your shoulder. 

“What is it? Hon, have I done something wrong?” 

“No, no,” you croak and bring your hands to your throat, “it’s nice. Really nice but... I need some air.” 

“Of course, Darl, Nia,” she shoos away the stylist pinning your hair, “let her up.” 

The women back off and the fourth watches you from the rack, still holding a sparkly black get-up. You search the room and swiftly head for the door. You let yourself into the hall, fanning yourself with your half-done acrylics. You’re happy at least they aren’t long. 

You pace back and forth, watching your feet pass over the pattern of the hotel carpet. You can run. You could just leave right now. The thought only makes your stomach hurt. No, you can’t. Not after he’s gone to all this trouble. You’d hate to seem ungrateful. 

You continue your incessant laps back and forth outside the door. You hear footfalls from around the corner and pause. You should go back in before someone sees you. You grab the handle. Shoot, it’s locked. You wiggle it as a shadow appears at the end of the hall. You gulp and peer down. 

It’s him. You lean on the door and face Bucky. He wears a dark blue jacket over a black shirt and black pants. There’s patterning sewn into his jacket, subtle spirals all around. His dark hair his combed back to the ends flip out behind his ears and his dark beard glints with silver strands, a patch more obvious on his chin. He’s strikingly handsome. So much so, you can’t understand why you’re there. 

His brows form a vee as he nears and he tilts his head, a tick in his cheek, “what’s going on, doll?” 

“Um, just... locked out,” you turn the handle again to emphasize your point. 

“No, what’s....” he looks at you and gestures up and down with his hand, “no, this won’t do.” 

You blink and pout. After all that and you’re not good enough. He raps on the door with his knuckles and there’s some scuffing from inside before Margot opens it. She steps back to let you in and greets Bucky by name. 

“This isn’t what I wanted,” he urges you ahead of him, his hand firmly around your arm, “it’s too much. She doesn’t need all this. I told you, just a little enhancement. I don’t want her looking like a Barbie.” 

“Sorry, sir, it’s... standard.” 

“Doll,” he stops you with him as he plants himself near the racks of dresses. The women watch him anxiously. “What do you think? The make up; you like it?” 

You peer around and stare at Margot. She worked so hard and it isn’t that it’s bad work. She made you look gorgeous but you just don’t like all the layers. You slant your mouth one way then the other. 

“Be honest,” he insists. 

“I... It’s pretty but a bit... heavy?” You eke out. 

“I agree,” he lets you go, “I appreciate the hard work, Marg, but I want to see her natural beauty shining. And these dresses...” he turns, “these aren’t right. I said light. I said... Mm, no. Doll, what’s your favourite colour?” 

He faces you as you stand in shock. You feel horrible that he’s reproaching them like this. They’ve done all this for you and he’s just going down a list of everything wrong. 

“Erm, purple, I guess but--” 

“Darla, get her something purple. Lavender? Lilac?” He looks at you for confirmation and you just nod. You won’t correct him. “Erica, finish her hair, something a bit less... stuffy. Margot, clean her face up. Nia, the nails are looking good.” He turns to you and takes you by the shoulders, “and you, all you gotta do is be your cute little self, alright?” 

You gulp and nod. You don’t know what to say. He saves you from a response as he brings his hand up under your chin. He leans in to kiss you and your cheeks flame at the awareness of your audience. He pulls back and caresses your cheek before parts completely. 

He checks his watch, “don’t got all night.” 

He marches off, leaving you dumbfounded. He’s like a hurricane, coming in and blowing everything out of sorts. You look around guiltily. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Margot assures with a smile, “come, let’s get you fixed up, dahling.” 

She beckons you over and sits you back down. You give your hand back to Nia to finish the manicure as Erica once more goes to work on your hair. You stare at the wall and let out a nervous sigh. 

“That’s cute,” Margot says, “the way he looks at you.” 

“Hm, yeah,” Erica agrees, “he definitely has the eyes for ya.” 

You close your eyes as Margot gently wipes away the make up with a cool cloth from a package. You shrug, trying not to move too much, “he’s nice. He... did all this. Just for me. I... I didn’t ask for it. I’m sorry he didn’t like it.” 

“No, baby,” Nia says, “this isn’t about us. It’s about you. What do you like?” 

You open your eyes again and frown. That’s a good question. You lower your gaze to your lap and exhale heavily. 

“I’m figuring it out,” you murmur, “I don’t... I don’t get out much.” 

“Oh, this must be so exciting for you,” Erica trills, “oh, how fun.” 

“I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time,” Nia adds, “don’t be nervous. Just enjoy yourself.” 

“Can’t be that hard,” Margot clucks, “on a handsome man’s arm, pretty as a bow,” she cleans her brushes as she talks, “it’ll be a great night. I’m thinking...” she peruses her chest of makeup, “natural tones. A dewy look. Natural, subtle.” 

“Okay, uh, yeah,” you agree, “that sounds nice.” 

“Hmmph,” Erica hums, “she’s a sweetie, isn’t she, ladies?” 

“Nicer than the last one,” Nia cackles. 

You stiffen and shift in the chair. You look at the nail tech then Margot as she compares a tube to your face and shakes her head. You push your lip against your teeth and let it flick out. 

“Last one?” You whisper. 

The women share a look and smile, “well, Mr. Barnes is notorious. Surely, you know.” 

“Oh,” you think of the headlines you scrolled through online, “well, yes, I know. I guess... I didn’t catch what you meant.” 

“Enjoy it. I’m sure you’ll get a few pretty baubles out of it,” Nia says, “and some memories to long for when you’re old like us.” 

“Old,” Margot scoffs, “speak for yourself.” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I know. I’m just... another girl.” 

“Oh, dahling,” Margot intones, “but he seems really fond of you, doesn’t he? Maybe he’ll keep ya around a bit longer, eh?” 

You just sit there. You knew better than to believe it was anything but the obvious but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. You stare blindly ahead as Margot remoisturizes your skin. 

“Didn’t mean to upset you,” Margot says. 

“I’m not, I just...” you swallow, “I’m nervous.” 

“Mm, nervous? Well, I think that’s what the bar is for. Erica, fetch some of that rose. She needs a glass, Stat.” 

Your mouth opens to protest but you think better of it. You’ve already caused them enough trouble. You thank them instead and try not to let your shame burn through. They know why you’re there and they’ve left no doubt in you of the same. 

“Make sure to pour me some too,” Margot chirps. 

🃏

You stop after one glass. It makes your inside bubbly and eases the tension just enough that you’re not jittering. You feel better but still not certain. 

The women confirm your fears. This isn’t going to last. It’s not like you didn’t expect as much but hearing it is all the more real. You’re going to have to come up with yet another lie to tell. This one will hurt the most because it will be at least halfway true; you’re still a loser. 

You’ll try to take their advice. You’ll enjoy this night; this once in a lifetime experience. You don’t think you’ll ever be in a casino again in your life. They’re not for you. All of this is just above you. It’s better suited to someone like your sister. You can’t help but wonder why it isn’t Roxie here. 

The clock ticks. Well, not truly. The digital numbers count down the minutes as you linger in the suite alone. The gaggle of women left only a few minutes ago but not without a promise that you’re happy. You are, at least with all they did for you. 

You approach the mirror, almost shying away from your own reflection. You look nice. You might even call yourself pretty. Your eyes look more brilliant with the subtle lining and the precisely coated lashes; not too heavy. And your lips, shiny but natural, your cheeks dewy with a hint of colour to them.  

And the dress. Lavender satin with crystals embedded in the fabric, lines of smaller ones interconnecting the larger stones. You turn and check your figure. You look grown up. It’s ridiculous to think but you do. The heels help, not too high but enough to define your legs. 

You turn and tear your gaze away from the mirror. You don’t want to be vain. Besides, you probably don’t look that good. You just look better than usual. The comparison is enough to skew your perception. 

As you teeter on the heels, waiting, for what, you don’t exactly know. You can surmise what it will all lead to. What he intends. You can’t deny it any longer. A man doesn’t do all this for altruistic mean and even you aren’t that pitiful. Well, you hope not. 

A knock at the door trips you up. Your heart lurches. You’re not ready. But it’s getting late and you know it’s inevitable. You can’t move or speak. You just stare towards the door. 

You hear it open. You blink a Bucky’s shadow appears on the carpet and he strides into your sight. Your eyes meet his and his blue irises sparkle as he sees you. He stops and put his hand to his chest. His forehead lines and he bites his lip. 

“Wow, doll,” he rasps breathily and slowly steps forward, “you look...” 

You press your hands to your sides and give a toothy expression, not quite a smile, not quite a grimace. Sweat speckles along your neck as his gaze bores into you. You’re even more self-conscious as he closes in. 

“I don’t know,” you murmur. 

“What don’t you know?” He asks as he reaches for you and takes your hand. He draws you near, “huh? Look at you, doll.” He purrs, “you look spectacular.” His other hand grazes down your side and he squeezes your hip as he holds you at arm’s length and ogles you, “mm, damn. You wanna know what I know?” 

You peer up at him from beneath your lashes, “what?” 

“That you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I’m a lucky man to have you walking the floor with me tonight,” he drops your hand and frames your other hip, drawing you to him, “I have half a mind to keep you up in this room.” 

You choke. Your lower lip trembles and you shake your head, “that’s nice but...” you look away. 

“But? You don’t believe me, doll? You think I’d lie?” He challenges. 

“N-no, I didn’t say—but--- before---” you sputter and put your hands on his forearms, “there were others and they were prettier.” 

“Doll, don’t worry about before. This is now. You aren’t them and I’m telling you, you are beautiful,” he trails his hand up and nudges your chin. You look at him again, your cheeks shaking as you try to smile. “Here.” 

He takes your hand, his eyes clinging to yours as he watches you. You can’t look away. Not this time. He leads your hand up his jacket and slips it beneath. He presses it to his chest. You feel the taut muscle beneath and something else. 

“You got my heart racing, doll,” he growls. “That ain’t a lie.” 

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 4

Shiny new schedule! Lets see how it shakes out. I'm hoping this will give each story time to shine on its own. But as my husband pointed out, it is four days in a row of stories followed by a day of no posting and then WIP Wednesday for the next two. So there really isn't a break between them lol!

Eh, it's fine!

In this Eddie finds what happened to Steve and decides to do something about it. And Steve develops a crush on Eddie's swimming.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~

Steve was grateful when the party ended. He was about ready to vibrate out of his skin. He needed to talk to Robin.

“All right spit it out,” she huffed when they got into the car. “I can tell you’ve been antsy all day.”

He let out a sigh. He loved her so much. He never had to over-explain himself with her. The way he always did with Tommy.

“When you guys do the staff swim on Saturdays, how often is Eddie there?”

She blinked at the question. It was the last thing she would have thought he would ask.

“Almost every week,” Robin said. “He wasn’t there last week because he had to help his uncle in the yard, but yeah. If he can be there, he will.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Does he play around usually or does he do laps and shit?”

She frowned as she thought back. “He’s usually doing laps when we get there and then plays around with us when we get in the pool.”

“Is he doing a basic breaststroke or...?” he hedged, biting on his bottom lip.

“All right, what’s with the twenty questions?” Robin replied. “Just ask what’s really on your mind.”

Steve let out a long breath. “Is there a chance he could have been trained to swim and not just taught?”

She sat back in the passenger seat and thought about it.

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” he said dryly. “Because Robin, he’s fucking good. Like could be better than me with the right coach good.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wait, really?”

Steve nodded.

They sat on that thought the rest of the way home.

~

Eddie got home from his swim and immediately hopped into the shower. He hated showering in locker rooms. Even when they were supposedly empty. Too many close calls with the jocks at his high school to feel safe in those things.

When he got out his Uncle Wayne was sitting on the armchair reading the newspaper.

“You know those things are going go the way the dodo any day now, right?” he teased, flopping on the nearby sofa.

“Uh-huh,” Wayne said dryly, not bothering to look up. “You’re back early.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “The rec center general manager was having her son’s birthday party today so I dipped out early.”

Wayne put down his paper and took off his glasses. “They didn’t tell you they’d need to use the pool? That’s not fair, Ed.”

“No, no,” Eddie said waving his hands back and forth. “They were using the kiddie pool. They were just super loud and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with just lifeguards today with Robin helping out.”

“She getting paid for that?” Wayne said, steely-eyed.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yes Uncle Wayne, they were asked if they wanted to and were paid overtime for it.”

Wayne nodded curtly and went back to his paper. “I went to the library and looked up that Harrington fellow. Five gold medals, two silver and a bronze. Probably would have had even more gold medals if it weren’t for that accident at the beginning of the games.”

“Tragic,” Eddie said. He was aiming for sarcastic but it came out more sincere than he would have liked.

“I think it was sabotage.”

Eddie’s head whipped up to look at his uncle. “You want to repeat that?”

Wayne carefully folded the paper and set it on the side table next to him. He pulled off his glasses and looked him in the eye. “I think it was a deliberate attempt to get Steve out the games.” Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Now I don’t know if it was meant to go as far as it did, but without a doubt that jumping board was tampered with.”

Eddie sat back and looked at him skeptically. “You shitting with me right now?” Wayne shook his head. “Because why would anyone do that? He only did okay in the second Olympics he was in. He didn’t even medal the first time.”

“Because they were throwing around phrases like ‘world record’ and ‘best swimmer of his generation’ about Steve Harrington at Beijing,” Wayne explained. “Like proper news worthy stuff. All eyes would have been on him and I’m betting that whoever it was wanted him out.”

Eddie sat back on the sofa with a “Huh.” He pulled out his phone and pulled up the internet. He typed in Steve Harrington’s name and the top results was his 2008 Olympic trials. Which Eddie privately wondered if someone paid heavily for that.

He clicked on the link. The final swim for butterfly and no one else was even in frame. He could hear the zoooom, click, of the camera zooming back out. Hargrove came in second, Hagan third and then everyone else was tight cluster of bodies at the finish line.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed. “He’s not just good. He’s God’s gift to swimming, son of Poseidon levels of ability here. If you’re right and someone did this to him, I hope they fucking hang for it.”

“Kick him out of the sport at the very least,” Wayne said gruffly. “Maybe even criminal charges if they call pull them.”

Eddie nodded. “Speaking of criminal charges, how the hell did you convince Chief Hopper to get me off mine? Because I should have gotten probation at least. A criminal record and jail time at the worst.”

Wayne looked him straight in the eye. “Because I know everyone deserves a second chance. Not everyone is like your daddy. He used up every ounce of goodwill he had with everyone before they locked him up threw away the key. Hopper was a delinquent before he got into a big enough trouble and his parents sent him to military school.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. That explained a lot more than anything else he knew about the man. “And you what? Covered it up for him? Took the fall? What?”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

Eddie leveled his uncle with a glare. “It must have been something big because he picks me up every day and is part of the trio that has to sign off on my paper work. That’s not a small favor, Uncle Wayne.”

“That’s certainly true,” he agreed. “I was a character witness for him to adopt his daughter, Elinor. He’s pretty damn sure that if it wasn’t for me going to bat for him they would’ve never let him some much as foster let alone adopt.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, nodding thoughtfully. “That is a pretty big favor.”

“You being good to him?” Wayne asked after a moment.

Eddie reared his head back and tilted in confusion. “Who? Hopper?”

“No,” Wayne scoffed. “Steve. You might have not have known at first what he went through, but you do now. So are you being good to him?”

Eddie opened his mouth to instantly reply ‘of course!’ but he forced himself to stop and think about it. “I don’t really spend enough time with him to be one way or another, but I haven’t gone out of my way to be a dick, you know?”

Wayne nodded and then picked back up his paper and Eddie knew that was the end of that. He went back to watching videos of Steve completely smash his American teammates to smithereens. Like the way the guy moved through the water was like a hot knife through butter, it was that smooth.

Then he pulled up the video. The one that ended the guy’s Olympic dreams for good. They were all at the starting line and everything looked normal. Calm. Then the gun went off and suddenly it all went wrong. The spring board literal flew out from under Steve. He tried to correct his trajectory, but Eddie could see he only made it worse.

He clung to it desperately, but his head bashed the side and suddenly he was under. Sinking like a stone. People held their breath as they watched, waiting for him to surface again. But he didn't. Suddenly, a streak of white flashed by everyone and dove in, straight for him. The figure grabbed Steve and dragged him to the surface. When they both crested the surface, it revealed just exactly who his savior was.

Robin.

Somehow there wasn’t any blood, just a giant bruise where he hit his head. Eddie can tell he’s unconscious and Robin barely holding on. Then finally a couple of the coaches jumped in after them and helped pull him to edge of the pool where EMTs were waiting with a stretcher. They immediately wrapped his neck in brace and then carefully hauled him out of the water.

All this to fucking commentary. Like Eddie wanted to reach back in time and punch those assholes until they bled. Sure, tell people what happened. But this? This was disgusting. A play by play.

Eddie exited out of the video and threw his phone on the sofa next to him. Afraid of the water. That’s what Jeff had suggested back when he first started doing his community service. Murray had even suggested something to the like. But this? This cinched it.

Fuck.

“Would something like almost drowning make you afraid of the water?” Eddie asked out loud, chewing on his lip and rubbing the bottom of his lip.

Wayne looked up from his newspaper again with a questioning hum. So Eddie repeated the question. “Could do, I suppose. Trauma is a bit funny like that. Why do you ask?”

Eddie told him about Steve’s avoidance of main pool and how he stayed to the kiddie pool and endless pool. “Like he obviously takes showers and shit, so it’s not a complete aversion, but it’s something, right?”

Wayne hummed again, this time more thoughtfully. “Certainly sounds like it’s more than something, Ed.”

Eddie slapped his knees and stood up. “Right, I think I know what I need to do.” He grabbed his phone off the sofa and patted his pockets to make sure he had his keys.

“I’ll be back later,” he called out over his shoulder and Wayne hummed his acknowledgment that he heard him, before he was flying out the door.

He got in his van and drove straight over. He skidded to a stop in front of nice house in Loch Nora. He barely managed to yank the keys out of the ignition before storming up the stairs to the front door. He pounded on the door until Gareth opened it.

“Hey,” he said with a grin. “Your dad’s a psychologist, right?”

Gareth blinked at him a moment, unsure what was going on. “Dude, you do realize it’s barely ten o’clock on a Saturday? You know, that day most people use to sleep in?”

Eddie looked at his watch for a moment and then looked up at his friend with a chagrined expression. “Sorry, dude. I can come back later if you want.” He jutted his thumb behind him at his van.

Gareth peered around him and then looked at Eddie blearily. “No, no I don’t want to unleash you on the unsuspecting populous when you get like this.” He turned around and waved for Eddie to follow.

Eddie bounced on his toes for a moment trying to decide if he should come in or not. He was about to decide not, when Mrs. Hughes came around the corner.

“Eddie!” she cried cheerfully. “You’re just in time for breakfast. I’ll throw another couple of slices of bacon on the griddle for you.”

So he came in, lured by the promise of bacon.

“So what did you need to my dad about?” Gareth asked, setting the table for breakfast.

Eddie jumped, nearly forgetting he had a mission. “There’s this guy at the pool they have me doing community service at, who has a shit ton of trauma and I wanted to ask him for advice on not accidentally fucking the guy up worse, you know?”

“That’s admirable, Eddie,” Dr. Hughes said, coming into the kitchen with the newspaper. “Trauma is such a tricky thing and by educating yourself in knowing where the common landmines are is good place to start.”

Eddie sighed in relief. He had been worried that Gareth’s dad would tell him to keep his nose out of it.

So once breakfast was on the table and they had dug in a bit, Gareth’s twin Gethin having spent the night at a friend’s, Eddie started telling Dr. Hughes all about Steve.

Dr. Hughes nodded. “Trauma in relation to pain is a tricky thing to unravel because they avoid the thing for fear of getting hurt again.”

Eddie nodded, soaking up everything and even taking notes. “Thanks, Dr. H, this was really helpful. I won’t feel so nervous around him anymore.”

“You’re a good kid, Eddie,” Dr. Hughes murmured. “I’m glad my personal psych profile was able to help in keeping you out of jail. It never sat right with me that poor people have to resort to crime to stay afloat and then be punished more severely for it.”

Eddie blushed. “Thanks for that, too.”

He knew was reductive to claim that it was Hopper that got him off, especially when so many people came out to help him stay out of jail and out of having a criminal record. But Hopper’s testimony was certainly the most memorable.

He finished breakfast and then spent time with Gareth going over the next session of their current D&D game.

Come Monday, he was going to help Steve in every way he could. Because if anyone knew the consequences of having a shit hand dealt you, it was Eddie.

~

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

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10- @aol19 @eriquin @tartarusknight @gloomysoup @morallyundefined

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

Fic Writer End of Year Round-up!!

(belated but whatever) Answer and then tag 3 or more creators to keep the game going!!

I was tagged by @skyfallscotland and @littedidyouknow 🥰🥰🥰

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

365,883!

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

16!

3. How many in-progress or currently ongoing fics did you start this year?

Only one WIP for me as of right now, my baby In The Heat Of It All. This is a good time to announce that there won’t be any updates during January in all likelihood.

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

Show Me Yours. It feels the most mine of all my fics, and I absolutely wrote it for me.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I’m not super experimental overall, since I generally know what POV/tense I like, and I don’t stray from that, but I feel like the International Incident series was pretty experimental in that it was actually erotica, and I’d never done that before!

6. Did any of your fics surprise you, either while writing or with their reception?

To Hate And To Hold had an insane reception that I was not expecting at all. I think a general rule is that the fics *I* like the most are not the fics that everyone else seems to like the most, but it was crazy to see in real time, especially with a one shot.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

In The Heat Of It All has been consistently flying under the radar for whatever reason, which makes me so sad because it’s absolutely my best work. Foreign Affairs also definitely flew under the radar, but maybe this is an anti masturbation fandom, IDK.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

I love @essjaywrites drawing of Rhi and Vi’s fridge here! I haven’t quite gotten around to reading this fic yet, but I love the representation of their friendship, and I think about it loads!!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

All my brainstorming over the last few months has involved the lovely miss @maethologies, and she inspires me so much. Genuinely, y’all would not have gryphon rider x without her, or the end of OTRA, or the latter half of kinktober.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

Literally all of you with when I joined the fandom, LOL, but special shout out to @justallihere. I’m so grateful for Storm In The Quiet and all the other wonderful writing she’s given us. SITQ was a really bright light last spring when I needed it ❤️

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

Technically, no. However! @maethologies and I have been. pounding ideas back and forth for an AU we are co-writing via DM, and we both have written pieces of the full fic!! That counts, I think. I think I’ll keep how it started top secret for now, though…

12. What accomplishments are you most proud of?

I was re-reading my journal yesterday, from around the time I wrote Of Mothers and Storms, and I said there how happy I was to be writing something more stress free after dealing with some of my original stuff. I’m so proud that I found that happiness again, and I’ve been really working on figuring out how to make that feeling more sustainable.

13. What did you learn about writing and creating this year?

Writing and posting are SEPARATE activities!

14. Any advice you’d like to share with new or aspiring writers?

Get words on the page!! My most practical advice is that when whatever I’m writing scares me, I shut my eyes. Do it scared. Also, sprints! Also, finding friends who you can send snippets to!!

15. What are you creative goals for 2025?

Top secret! 🤫

I’m not tagging anyone because I am so very late, but if anyone still wants to jump in, do it!! and tag me!! It was so lovely seeing everyone’s contributions. Happy new year!!