#this time it's a drawing inspired by a fic me and friends wrote in frantic fanfic!

[moopermoment]

when your partner needs you to measure some disguises (she's actually trying to surprise you with some nice new clothes!)

agent is created by @tofudemaru

[beskarberry]

Holy schnikes batman! It's been a WHOLE YEAR since I wrote Bargaining with Beskar?!

I never ever EVER imagined that my writing blog would take off like it did. When I wrote that first chapter on January 6th, 2021, I thought it was going to get drowned out by much more popular fics, washed away to the annuls of tungler never to be seen again. And that was ok by me, because I wrote it in a frantic haze at 3am because I was literally too horny to sleep and I had to DO something!!

Then I got a couple of reblogs, and some comments, and some followers that are still with me to this day that inspired me to add on to that first chapter (as well as FANART holy shitballs of hell!!), and the rest is history. 152k words and 5 months later I finished(?) that monstrosity on a high and hopeful note because it helped me get through some seriously tough times of my own.

Since the completion of BwB, I've gone on to write various other works for Pedro Pascal's characters, and though I can't thank the man personally for what he's done for me as a creator, I CAN thank the fandom for accepting me into their welcome arms, even when I started dragging eggs and tentacles through the doors...

This fandom, the Mando fandom and the PP fandom, and all the fandoms that are interlinked throughout, has introduced me to some of the most amazing, wonderful, creative, captivating, spellbinding, awe-inspiring, and downright FILTHIEST people I have ever had the absolute pleasure of getting to be friends with!!!

So from the bottom of my heart, I want to say thank you to everyone who came aboard the BwB starship with me, and thank you to those who came later when I started writing other fics and characters.

I also want to thank those who became inspired by my writing to go on to do writing of their own, to write the things they thought nobody would want to read or never thought they could be brave enough to write. And those who were inspired to draw art based on my fics as well! Some of you I have printed out hanging on my walls, but all of you I have saved in a personal folder that I have set as my computer desktop, so I see your art all the time! I love so much :3

This community has grown to be such an integral part of my life, and I was never much of a fandom person until you guys dragged me in here (affectionate) and I can confidently say that I have made lifelong friends because of it!

I work some pretty difficult hours at the hospital, sometimes 70-90 hours at a time, so getting content made and posted has been a real challenge for me, and I want you all to know how much I appreciate not only the people who are still following me, but also those that ARE capable of creating regular content! Thank you for being there when I could not, making amazing stories and fantastic works of art for me to enjoy and love!!

For my writers birthday, all I want is for all the wonderful creators in this fandom to know they're loved and appreciated, and if you want to send me an ask/tag me in something that deserves recognition, I'd love to promote it!

Thank you, I love you all!! Smooches and snooches 😘

Taglist

@amneris21 @absurdthirst @anaaaispunk @torictailor@221bshrlocked @kotemorons @mandoblowmybackout@the-scandalorian @littlemisspasca l@feralest-femme @capsheadquaters @fan-of-encouragement @beskarboobs @blackdogdesignuk @fandom-blackhole @adancedivasmom@pedroslilbitch @dincrypt @marydjarin @mrsparknuts@tanzthompson @Tintinn16 @insomniamamma @mindidjarin@poppunkdee @maievdenoir @wildmoonflower @readsalot73@mandocrasis @pinkninja200 @fic-appointment @pumpkin-stars@marvelranger @novemberrain221 @elinedjarin@pureprism21 @shadesofnerdlygrace@actuallyprettylucky @pastel-0-princess @missminkylove @nicolethered @green-socks@michi-readsamneris21 @beskarboobs @misscamptl @mswarriorbabe80 @feralhotmess @ezrasbirdie @alexxavicry@doin-stuff @kirsteng42 @t3a-bag @natashaispunk @c4psicle@daddys-minty-princess @iamskyereads

[happi-tree]

Sixteen

Hello, lovebirds! Here’s a bit of fic that I wrote inspired by @shima-draws‘ BNHA Distortion Link AU from Nexus’ POV! Check out her blog for more info about it. I’ll put the fic under a read more, so continue on if you’re interested! TW for blood and vague, semi-graphic descriptions of corpses.

Midoriya Izuku is 16 years old when his world is ripped out from underneath his feet. 

He awakens to silence - not the peaceful quiet of early mornings that he has become long accustomed to, but to a sheer and utter absence of sound. Not a whisper of birdsong, not a single utterance of cacophony caused by the morning commute traffic in Musutafu. The quiet is eerie, anticipatory, waiting to be shattered, and Izuku gets the distinct feeling that he’s the final character in some horror flick. 

His alarm clock blares “The morning is here!” again in a robotic facsimile of All Might’s voice. Izuku startles, badly, slamming his hand down on the alarm to silence it. A breeze outside grows in intensity, slamming into the walls. The ticking of clocks, the groaning of a house in its death throes, and the rushing of blood in Izuku’s ears are the only sounds now. 

Something is very wrong.

Izuku picks his way across the room to his window, lifting the blinds, and nearly retches at what he sees.

The streets aren’t clogged with cars or buses; the sidewalks are vacant of pedestrians. Instead, the concrete is dyed red with blood, puddles of it seeping into potholes, into gutters. Bodies, for as long as the eye can see, line the walkways and the asphalt at irregular intervals, their eyes unseeing, their mouths open in shock, their forms contorted and still in pools of burgundy-ebony. Newly deceased, the analytic, detached part of Izuku’s brain observes, noting the absence of stench and lack of buzzing flies. 

As much as Izuku desperately wants this to be some horrible nightmare, he knows deep in his bones that this is all too terribly real.

And then he looks up.

Up to the sky, where his fated enemy is silhouetted against the soot-stained crimson of dawn, wreathed in clouds of smoke like the angel of death incarnate. But Izuku knows that this man is far from angelic - there is no mercy in these deaths, no just judgement present in any fiber in his body as he hovers, gloatingly, backlit by the red-orange sun. 

All for One, in all his age, has never been a creature of compassion.

With the taste of bile and ash in his mouth, Izuku frantically grabs his hoodie from where it lays across the back of his desk chair, shrugging it on. Throwing open his closet door, he pulls on the boots of his Hero costume, barely managing to fumble their laces into a proper knot and swiping his gloves from where they sit draped over his tool belt. 

One for All rockets to the surface of his skin within milliseconds, his racing heartbeat and heightened anxiety calling the Quirk to activation in record time, and Izuku breaks down the front door of his house, sprinting into the streets of the world on its final day with eight souls singing across the lightning in his veins.

It is not enough.

-

Midoriya Izuku is 16 years old when he opens his eyes to the Beyond for the first time. 

The confusion only lasts for a few moments before memories - billions of them, thoughts that are not his, were never meant to be his - shove themselves into his still-growing mind, flooding his neurons until they threaten to combust. All at once, Izuku knows where he is. Izuku knows what happened to his world; rather, the world that was once his.

Now, Izuku knows everything, and it is with absolute, mind-numbing certainty that he knows that his universe is gone.

He is the sole survivor, the lone occupant of this plane of in-betweens, where both nothing and everything is real. He feels at once impossibly heavy and weightless, power sitting leaden in his bloodstream, pulsating in time with his paradoxically-beating heart, countless lives weighted and compressed upon his mind, their taste like copper on his tongue. 

Tears flow freely from his eyes, saline globules suspended in the not-air of the Beyond as he weeps and as he feels. Seven billion lifetimes of emotions flash through his mind’s eye like an old film reel, impossibly fast, impossibly hard to differentiate. Love and heartbreak and joy and sorrow and anger and contentment and longing and desperation and too many other feelings to name overcome him, and Izuku cries out, his strangled voice the only sound amidst the deep shifting colors of the void, utterly human and utterly alone. 

Even heroes need to cry, sometimes, Todoroki’s voice seems to whisper to him, and Izuku’s body wrenches with the force of his sobbing, clinging to himself and wishing beyond anything for the phantom comfort of a friendly hand upon his shoulders. 

How can I ever call myself a Hero when I failed my entire universe?

After a time - perhaps seconds, perhaps centuries - Izuku’s cries pitter out, and he straightens enough that his feet find contact with something solid. Opening his eyes once more, he finds that his tears, spheres of liquified crystal, lay suspended across the not-space, twinkling like so many stars. For all the pain that they had caused him, Izuku finds beauty in their sorrow, trying not to tear up again as he thinks of the shifting constellations of his homeland, their lights forever extinguished. 

The memories threaten to overturn his mind again, but Izuku holds firm, pushes past the grief and the sorrow. He is the sole occupant of the Beyond, the Nexus, a realm that oversees every universe, every timeline. The weight of countless worlds rests on his shoulders now, and Izuku cannot allow himself to crumble beneath it any longer. Infinite power - so much that the feeble, human part of his mind can scarcely begin to comprehend its beginning or its end - resides in his soul, stitched into the fabric of his being. 

<If I could not be the Hero my own world needed,> Izuku speaks into the void, curling his hands into fists, <maybe I can be the Hero that the rest of them deserve.>

So many lives are in need of protection, in need of saving. And now, here I am, with the power to look after every single one of them. What kind of Hero would I be if I didn’t use this power to help them? For the first time in a long time, Izuku laughs - a hollow, broken laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

<Plus ultra.> Izuku says to the unspeaking, unblinking void. He cracks his knuckles, takes a deep breath, and then gets to work overseeing the multiverse. 

-

Midoriya Izuku is still 16 years old when he feels the first disturbance in the Beyond. 

The new presence feels scarcely like a blip on his radar, as quick and meaningless as the blink of an eye. But after centuries and centuries of absolutely nothing, a spark of excitement - an emotion almost foreign to him, now - makes itself known in the cavity of his chest, bright and white-hot. Alongside it, an equally strange feeling: hope. 

The fabric of the Beyond bends itself around him, malleable and fluid as it bows to his whims and carries him to the source of the disturbance.

Izuku watches as a corner of his world blurs green. A figure, human, falling endlessly, glitching in and out between this plane and the one to which they belong. Reaching out with his mind, Izuku nearly reels back in shock with what he discovers.

Because the figure trapped between realms is him.

Well, one of him, Izuku should say. Across the multiverse are countless Midoriya Izukus. For whatever reason, this one seems to have gotten himself into a bit of trouble.

A constant for all Izukus, getting into trouble, he muses as his other semi-conscious self falls infinitely. 

Probing further, it looks like this particular Izuku is from a world quite similar to his own. Time slows, solid in his grasp, to allow him to decipher the teal of his Hero outfit, bits of blood scattered across his freckles from a previous fight. Clearly, this Izuku had no intention of coming here, and is likely feeling very out of sorts. How he got here in the first place is a wonder, but not for long.

Memories of his double flash through his mind. The patrol assignment. Uraraka, Todoroki, Ojirou, Shigaraki, Kurogiri’s faces come to mind in consecutive flashes, and his knees nearly buckle at the sight of their familiarity. One for All activating in tandem with Kurogiri’s portal, disturbingly reminiscent of the moment that ripped the fabric of his homeland apart.

Ah, there it is.

Izuku’s power comes to grasp the connection tethering his doppelgänger to the Beyond, and he hears a gasp. 

Well, that wouldn’t do. Not that Izuku has ever seen this happen before, but he has the sinking feeling that shoving his other self back into his own universe will not erase the connection entirely. There’s something wild about it, unstable. Dangerous.

Izuku walks closer to his double’s side, time grinding to a halt.

<I’m sorry for this, but you’ll likely see more of me,> he says to himself, taking in the other Izuku’s gaping expression and wide eyes, imprinting the familiar lines of his Hero suit into his vision alongside the spattering of freckles and the smears of dirt. 

<For now, though, I’ll try to get you home. You’re doing so well, you know. I’ve been watching.>

Gently, Izuku presses a fingertip to his doppelgänger’s forehead and watches as he reappears through the tear into his own timeline.

A universe away, provisional Hero Deku returns to his friends with shaking hands, a phantom warmth between his brows, and an odd feeling of recognition in his chest.

-

Nexus is 16 years old when he sees the sky again for the first time in millennia. 

[businessbois]

hello blue :D i would like to know everything you would like to tell me about your favourite fic you've written

lyssie shrugofgod weirdly-enough this is the kindest thing ever i hope you're ready for vaguely comprehensible ranting.

okay so i couldn't choose between two fics "once i called you brother" and "the art and (mine)craft of war" because i could talk forever about both, but im gonna talk about "once i called you brother" because its the less popular one

heres the link :)

so i basically wrote this fic because i thought that the song "the plagues" from prince of egypt (or at least the opening lines) were incredibly perfect for c!tommy and c!techno and it was a shame that no one did an animatic for it yet. i cannot draw so i just wrote a fic for it.

once i called you brother once i thought the chance to make you laugh was all i ever wanted

is that literally not tommy with techno though?

and then the rest of the song can read as like doomsday or november 16th, you know, them arguing about selfishness and betrayal and all that. the song fucking slaps.

but anyways the fic itself? the opening is inspired by how like, if you didn't know who technoblade was during the beginning of the smp, he would just be this mysterious figure of legend that tommy, wilbur, or dream occasionally talked about. it hit me during the dream v technoblade duel stuff that since techno had never been on the smp before, he was just this invisible dude with a huge reputation and that was so cool to me.

"Alrighty, I've been here before, right?"

"Listen, Techn—Dream..."

these are quotes from tommy that i quoted in the fic. i used to do this a lot, just stick quotes with no context into fics because i assumed everyone had the same precise memory of everything that went on the smp that i did. the first one is referring to tommy being surrounded by people outside the community house and "i've been here before" is him remembering a similar scenario on smpearth and therefore technoblade. the second is when he accidentally calls dream techno (about 30 seconds into this comp) again adding to techno's thing of being just this widely alluded to figure.

"Who do you think will win? My bets on our boy, Dream, but feel free to be wrong."

Niki stays quiet, a small frown on her face.

i feel bad for cutting niki absolutely owning dream with "well, techno's my friend" but it simply couldnt stay in for fic purposes

waking up to a frantic Bitzel muttering about hypothermia and something heavy and red covering his shivering frame.

smpearth is canon because i Want it to be canon and in my canon there's a moment where tommy passes out in the middle of a fight and techno brings him back to business bay wrapped up in his cape because he's technosoft and all their fighting is more like play fighting anyways

Tommy knows that love is earned. That if he does well in some Championships, then his place in the family is secured.

this is inspired by the bet that wilbur and tommy had in like mcc8 that if they placed fifth or higher tommy could be in sbi. in tommy's pov it becomes, "you have to earn your place in this family."

“Because I’m not the vice president.”

this is from one of his exile streams where he's talking to dream about why people won't visit him anymore

Tommy is 10 and too big for his boots.

this section is inspired by tommy's story of how he met techno as told in this storytime.

there is something that flickers at the back of his mind when the ratty zombie child calls him The Blade.

i think it's so incredibly special that everybody calls techno The Blade but like,, that's tommy's nickname for him. theres this moment where tommy's talking about giving techno a nickname and techno's like "you call me The Blade!' again, everybody calls techno The Blade, but he tells tommy "you call me The Blade." like i don't know how to articulate this but, that's tommy's nickname for him. they're brothers.

Tommy's been to war with soft, pale blues.

ae reference because again, smpearth is canon cuz i said

Tommy is 13 and standing over the remains of Business Bay's storage area.

this is an smpearth thing. wisp and vop did a whole grief of business bay, it was very dramatic very tragic. the thing with techno coming to business bay to talk to tommy is from this comic and i hold this headcanon close to my heart.

"Tommy, if anyone gives you trouble—and I mean serious trouble, not the kind we have—you tell me.”

Tommy hears an echo of similar words from the man who just burnt down everything he’s worked for.

"Tommy, anyone that touches you fucks with me... I will kill Techno if it takes me all of my life to prepare for it, you understand me?"

im so proud of this parallel between wisp and techno man you have no clue. okay, so like i said before, the ae versus bb thing in my head is very much like play fighting. sometimes it gets serious like the scenario which is happening in the fic where things actually get destroyed. that's because they're stubborn teenaged boys and conflicts can go from fun to actual trouble real quick. these "similar words" and the following quote are references to one of my favorite wisp moments ever. wisp, for anyone unclear on smpearth backstory, was a part of business bay before he betrayed them for the antarctic empire. he was also the one who burnt down the storage area which is why tommy's remembering this quote so bitterly.

Tommy rolls his eyes. "I pinky promise, Technoblade." He sticks out his little finger like a challenge.

the pinky promising is Canon from like the post-exile streams i think and i headcanon it as something tommy just does with people

and so this is to put context to the "using techno" thing. because i've always kinda viewed as like calling in a friend (or a big brot—[gunshot]) in for help so this part of the fic gives it the background to be like that

But then, Tommy is 16 and standing in a cataclysm, once again watching everything he’s worked for get destroyed by a man who swore to protect him.

this line solidifies that parallel to wisp where techno made a similar promise to protect tommy and now he's destroying everything tommy's worked for (business bay in wisp's case, lmanburg in techno's case) im very proud of this parallel.

His tall brown-haired friend from competitions past

wilbur of course, the competitions past being mcm

He collects titles like music discs

i asked my friend for things that people collect and they said "records" and i said "wait—"

Technoblade is 17 and he has no family. He has a friend who makes sure he sleeps. He has a friend who creates bridges and mischief. He has a bug that he still hasn't squashed.

i've always loved the idea of sbi becoming this little found family on smpearth. like they're not super lovely dovey "we're like brothers" but they're so fond of each other and they hang out when they're not pretending to be at war. and so theres still that room to say that they're not family, but like they totally are

Bright blue eyes beg him for some entertainment, so Techno sighs and grabs The Complete Works of William Shakespeare off the shelf.

this headcanon that techno used to read them shakespeare comes from wilbur's offhand comment asking techno to recite king lear to them

Wilbur's planted himself at Techno's side for the duration of the finale, something that he's grateful for. Wilbur's always been his person to lean on for things like this.

inspired by i think wilbur saying that he was techno's like designated extrovert during mcc's and i really love that aspect of their relationship. because techno is looked at as "the older brother" in so many ways, but like in this way, when wilbur's guiding him through social situations and supporting him, he gets to be wilbur soot's little brother.

Technoblade never says I love you, but he reads his baby brother The Twelfth Night instead of Hamlet and ends Theseus' tale after the Minotaur.

this was one of the first things i had written for this fic. so obviously hamlet is a tragedy while the twelfth night is a rocking good time. so like going back to that shakespeare headcanon but techno protecting tommy in the little ways. the theseus part is inspired by me not knowing the rest of theseus' story after he gets home and his dad jumps into the ocean. like the exile and death stuff i didn't hear about until the dsmp so that's where that came from. techno, even though it kind of goes against who he is, leaving theseus' story as a victory where the hero slays the monster, just to give his little brother something with a happy ending

"Do you want to be a hero, Tommy? THEN DIE LIKE ONE!"

i did always think this could be seen as like "well if you want to be a hero, then you can die like one" and leaving off the unspoken "but if you don't want to be--if you choose not to be, then you get to live. so don't be a hero. please don't be a hero." and theres like that little tragedy there that i really love in techno and tommy's relationship. like, i love you, you love me, all i ever wanted was to make you laugh, but we don't speak the same language. we don't understand each other. everything you are is against everything i stand for. so yeah bedrock bros feels. i wrote this long before exile and all that so its even more complicated now gosh.

[randomfandomimagine]

Fic Writer Interview Tag

Thank you so much for tagging me, @sheimagineddragons!! 🤗🥰

1. Your favorite fic that you’ve written? (Or just one you want to give a shout out to)

The one I’m most proud of is Soul of a Warrior. I love Jaskier, I love Geralt, I love The Witcher, I love Nissa and I love every single thing about this series, it’s so special to me and I’m so happy with it!

2. Your favorite fic title that you’ve come up with?

The first one that comes to mind is Steal Your Pain Away, a Bucky Barnes ficlet I wrote not too long ago. I love having titles with double meaning, and this one also feels very emotional and encompases the events of the ficlet very well, so I really like that title (even if I kind of stole it from one of the lyrics of Broken by Seether ft. Amy Lee 😂).

3. How do you get inspiration to write?

Many different ways! Sometimes I’m inspired when I watch a particular movie or show or anything that I like so much, other times it’s random, other times I fall in love with a new character (or fall in love again with one I already new), and other times I just feel the need to write when I have thought about an idea enough.

4. Your favorite genre / subgenre of fic to write?

To write, fluff. To read, angst, hurt/comfort. (I agree with you here, Kit!)

5. Do you have other hobbies?

Sure, many! I like to play video games, watch movies, reading, playing guitar and piano, drawing, painting...

6. A fun fact about you that a lot of people may not know?

Um... This is silly, but I love origami! It’s been forever since I’ve practiced, but I used to be able to do lots of things to gift to friends and decorate my room. One time I gifted my best friend a big jar full of colorful origami stars.

7. Pick one character to self project onto, go!

I’ll give you two because they are very close to my heart! Ellie Williams from The Last of Us and Prompto Argentum from Final Fantasy XV. I relate a lot to them both in different ways.

8. Favorite genre of music?

Heavy metal, I love the energy and the raspy voices and the loud instruments and frantic drums and the electric guitars. Still, I have a varied taste in music and I also like rock, a little bit of pop and folk and sometimes even rap.

9. Your favorite singer/band?

I feel like everyone is tired of hearing me talk about them, but The Amazing Devil! I discovered them when I learned that Joey Batey (the guy that plays Jaskier in The Witcher) had a band and I loved him and his voice so much that I looked them up and absolutely fell in love with every single thing about their music. I also really like Avenged Sevenfold, Muse, Queen and Three Days Grace (and a bunch of other bands).

10. And finally, how has your experience in fandom been?

Mostly very pleasant. I love to share my enthusiasm and love for fandoms with other people, and although there’s a few fandoms that are very toxic and I hate ship wars, everyone has mostly been very nice!

I don’t really know who to tag, so if you see this feel free to do it and tag me so I can read your answers! :D

[angel-with-a-pipette]

Be mine

Chatpter two: I want you for a life time

Summary: 

“I can’t do this, Riku.” “Yes, you can. All you need to do is walk over to her, offer her a fruit and bite into it.”

Sora finally wants to share a paopu with Kairi, but things go differently than he planned.

Rating: G

Genre: Romance

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Disney/Square Enix.

10 months ago, I submitted a first draft of this story to the mods of the twosides fanzine, a charity fanzine focusing on Sokai and Rokunami. I can proudly say that I wrote this before KH3 was released (but after the TGS trailer dropped, so I was HEAVILY inspired by it and the lyrics of "Don't think twice") - so I've been giddily sitting on this for quite a while!

I’ve posted the first ‘chapter’ quite a while ago which actually contains cut content that didn't make it into the zine because the story became too long. Today, I can finally share the piece that has been printed in the zine :3

A huge thank you to Liv and Raye for making the twosides fanzine and for making this fic possible ♥

Also available on: ao3

Please enjoy!

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

As soon as he heard sand crunching beneath his feet, Sora slowed down. Staying at the edge of the wooden bridge, he pressed one of his hands against his chest, willing his breath to calm down again, only to realize how quickly his heart was beating.

How could planning to commit to the girl he loved be so much more nerve wracking than trying to save the entire universe?!

Sora started to move again, towards the crooked paopu tree on top of which Kairi sat. She stared ahead, into the slowly setting sun, a soft breeze playing with her hair which only lead to Sora's heart pounding even harder in his chest.

He couldn't do this.

He took a step back and caught his foot on that one wayward root of the tree that was strangely shaped like the head of a mouse. He yelped lightly before catching his balance again and started to chuckle lightly, throwing a sheepish smile in Kairi's direction, sure that she had caught every second of it, ready to tease him.

But she didn't. She continued staring out to the ocean, her lightly upwards curled lip the only indication that she had witnessed his moment of embarrassment. And suddenly, Sora understood.

She was giving him a way out.

He had asked her to meet him today on the paopu tree. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Sora wanted to talk about, especially since the both of them could have talked any time while staying in Radiant Garden. Yet, she patiently sat atop of the tree, ankles gracefully crossed as her hands rested on her lap. She waited for him to make the first move – as she always did.

No more. He wouldn't make her wait one more second.

Swallowing his nerves once and for all, Sora hauled himself up onto the tree. Before he could scoot closer however, she turned towards him, a dazzling smile spreading over her lips and Sora prayed to Zeus, Poseidon, even Hades that the evening sun would hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Hey Sora!”

“Kairi,” he replied breathlessly and patted down his left trouser pocket as inconspicuously as possible.

Still there.

“I know you wanted to tell me something, but please, can I go first? It's urgent.”

Upon her words, Sora let go of the flap of his pocket and his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Sure. What's the matter?”

“My lucky charm worked decently up until now, but I feel like we need something stronger, something more reliable. Your last fight with Xehanort,” she faltered and her eyes flashed to the spot on his abdomen where she knew he had been injured, “it was too close of a call. And I wasn't even there to protect you.”

“It's not your job to protect me, Kairi-”

“I could have lost you.”

Sora knew that it was true. He had been in and out of consciousness for a day and bound to his bed for another two, despite countless Curagas being cast on him and gallons of potions being rubbed into his skin and poured into his throat to help him heal.

He would do it all again if it meant that his friends stayed safe.

“The coming battle is unlike anything we have faced so far… this charm will make sure we won’t be separated again.”

She let a small, red pouch slide into his outstretched hand and he looked at it curiously. It was lighter than he anticipated from its looks, tied up with a golden cord that he cautiously pulled at while Kairi began to explain.

“I commissioned this from the Moogles in Radiant Garden. To make sure we won't be separated, they worked a Thalassa shell into it. And to make sure you never get hurt as badly again, I asked them to put as many protective spells onto the charm as possible.”

Sora's eyes widened as he stared into the pouch.

“I know,” Kairi continued, suddenly shy, “it's probably weird that I asked for a ring to be made. I know you don't wear jewelry apart from your necklace, but I wanted the charm to be small and practical, so I figured a ring would be the best choice.”

“Rings.”

“Excuse me?”

“Rings,” Sora repeated and looked up to meet Kairi's eyes again who stared at him in confusion. Wordlessly, he turned the pouch upside down, emptying its contents into his open palm: two slender silver rings, a big one and one slightly smaller, with an orange-red inlay of a Thalassa shell.

Kairi stared at his hand, back at his face and again at his hand.

“Oh,” she finally uttered and even the sunset wasn't able to hide the blush that was spreading over her cheeks as she got a faraway look... before her eyes suddenly hardened. “That explains why they overcharged me! Those little..!” She shook her head. “Anyway. Maybe you can just wear both of them on a necklace? But then again, you already wear your crown necklace. Maybe you can just slip them into your pocket? Or – oh!” Kairi started to gesture frantically and Sora couldn't help but follow the movement of her right hand as an idea formed in his head. “You wore a key chain in the past, didn't you? You could put both rings on it. Or-”

“You could wear the small one.”

Kairi fell silent mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open as the familiar nervousness spread through Sora once again.

“I want you to wear the second ring,” he clarified. “You said this charm will make sure we won't be separated, right? It can't work if I hold onto both rings. And if I get lost, my ring will lead me back to yours.”

All of a sudden, something soft pressed against Sora's lips, but before his brain caught up with what was happening, the sensation stopped and Kairi threw her hands over her mouth, eyes wide in horror.

She had kissed him. Kairi had kissed him!

A dopey grin started to spread over Sora's face and he carefully tugged on Kairi's right hand and held the ring up.

“That's a 'yes', right?”

After she nodded a little dazedly, Sora slipped the ring onto her ring finger. It fit her perfectly.

Kairi took a deep breath as she regarded her new ring. She giggled lightly and reached for the other ring, but she hesitated when she looked at the hand Sora offered her.

“Your left hand?”

“Yeah,” Sora nodded in agreement, “just to make sure that my Keyblade doesn't wear the ring down. Also,” Sora lowered his gaze and stared at Kairi's hand picking up his ring while wearing her own. He couldn't help the smile that tugged on the corners of his lips upon seeing how well her ring suited her. “If I wear it on my left hand and you wear yours on your right hand, they'll touch whenever we hold hands. So they won't be separated.”

“O-Oh,” Kairi nodded, but despite the sudden tremor in her hand, she managed to slide the other ring over Sora's finger. It, too, fit perfectly.

They had just exchanged matching rings. Wow.

“Sora, I-”

“Kairi,” Sora interrupted her as he reached for his pocket. He absolutely couldn't wait any longer.

“I don't want there to be any doubts about my feelings for you.” He pulled the paopu out of his pocket, drawing another gasp out of Kairi.

“Please. Be mine.”

This time she dove forward, cradling Sora's face in her hands, the metal of her new ring cooling his skin as her lips found his again, a little longer this time before pulling away.

“I thought you'd never ask.”

Together, they held the paopu in their hands, smiling at each other. They leaned in, each biting off a piece of the fruit. Sora swallowed greedily and looked at Kairi in wonder.

She was his. He was hers. They had finally shared a paopu.

He reached out for her face, gently cupping her cheek and stroking it with his thumb as she leaned in. He couldn't hold back the “I love you” that tumbled from his lips, but there was no need to anymore. Instead, he was rewarded with the same words and the sweetest smile. A grin spread over Sora's face and he pressed his forehead against Kairi's.

“So? No impulsive kiss?”

He could barely suppress his laughter when he felt Kairi pull back from him, cheeks blown up in mock-annoyance. Cocking his eyebrow, Sora continued.

“I thought third time's the charm? I'm a little disappointed.”

“Well, I wanted to give you the opportunity to surprise me for once, you lazy bum!” She retorted as she stuck out her tongue at Sora. “But I guess if you really don't want to-”

“Who said I don't?”

Sora quickly pulled Kairi close, relishing in the feel of her body against his and smothered her short squeak of surprise when he finally caught her lips with his own.

[eris223]

@kokkoro tis I, your Secret Santa!

It’s been a pleasure chatting with you these past few weeks. I hope you have a wonderful New Year’s Eve full of relaxation after the craziness of the holidays. I wrote something for you. Just a fun little fic inspired by some of our chats:

Charming Bites & Lady Knights

The parking lot was packed. Lexa’s shoulders slumped, and she pulled into the final available spot, steeling her mind, body, and soul for the inevitable irritation that came with being in a crowd of holiday treat shoppers.

As she slugged through the snow-dusted lot, Lexa reminded herself that this quest came only once a year. Only during the holidays did her mother, who never asked anything of her daughter, request a few charming bites, as she called them. And dammit, Lexa was a noble and true daughter.

So here she stood, calming herself before the local dairy farm and bakery.

The tintinnabulation as she pushed open the heavy door was nearly lost to the constant chatter of bakery employees and frantic customers. Lexa weaved in and out of bustling shoppers, coming to a halt at the end of a ten-person line.

The bakery counter line crawled forward, and every time Lexa dipped her head to the side to gain insight on why the line was moving so slowly, all she saw was a flash of blonde hair attached to a blur of a frenzied yet striking young woman.

“It’s moving slowly, isn’t it, dear?”

Lexa smiled at the old woman who just hopped in line behind her.

“It’s always a mess during the holidays.” Her words were direct and easily interpreted as annoyed, yet the elder’s smile was anything but.

While Lexa was no deipnosophist, she could manage a bit of chit-chat with a kindly old lady who reminded her of her best friend’s doting grandmother. “I think that employee is the only one working the counter. It can’t be easy with this many people,” Lexa motioned towards the counter just as the blonde woman heaved a sigh and greeted the next customer.

“That poor dear,” the old woman clicked her tongue. “We’ll be sure to leave her a nice tip, won’t we?”

Lexa nodded, her cheeks aching with the smile she sported. It wasn’t every day she met someone genuinely kind.

The line still moved at a glacial pace, but with the light and easy conversation with her line partner, the time passed quickly. Soon enough, Lexa stood only two people from the front.

“What do you mean, ‘it’s not ready’? I called it in three days ago!”

A hoarse voice crashed into Lexa’s ears, and she whipped her head towards the front of the line. A burly man leaned forward, hands on the counter, shoulders tense, as he continued to berate the pretty employee.

“I left a message on the machine. I said it needed to be ready today!”

“Sir,” the woman’s voice was calm yet peppered with exhaustion, and it was so much more luscious than Lexa anticipated. “Did someone from the bakery call to confirm or give you an order number?”

“Can’t you just give me one of those?” He motioned towards the stack of cakes on the back counter, and Lexa’s skin bristled.

A bout of pure protective nature coursed through her veins as she watched the young woman set her lips in a firm yet polite line.

“I’m sorry, sir, but those are reserved for other custo-”

“This is ridiculous,” he spat at the employee, and Lexa’s muscles tensed. “I can’t believe how far this place has fallen. Hiring fools instead of employees. I want a cake. There are cakes right there…”

Lexa wrapped her hand around the hilt of her sword, her leather gauntlet stretching as she flexed her fingers. She drew the blade slow and with purpose, holding it at the ready.

She tapped the tip of her sword to the rude man’s shoulder. “Thou must apologize to the fair maiden. She art naught but a kind woman caught in a difficult situation.”

He turned with malice laced throughout his gaze. “And who do you think you are? Her knight in shining armor?”

Lexa stood tall, her heavy hauberk shifting and jingling, filling her with pride and confidence. “If she would permit me to be, aye.”

She spared a glance to the maiden in question, and the small nod Lexa received bolstered her further. “Apologize, or I will be duty-bound to defend her honor.”

The man gave Lexa an acute once over, sizing up his competition. With a low growl, he reached behind him, pulling a longsword from the scabbard on his back.

The metal blade scraped loud and dull against his sheath, and Lexa smirked. An expert swordsman could draw silently. This oaf was just a rude buffoon who needed to be taught a lesson in humility.

He swung without warning, his four-foot blade slicing through the air. Lexa, much quicker with her arming sword, ducked beneath the clumsy attempt.

With a flash of steel, Lexa whipped her lighter and swifter sword low, confident her foe would be unable to block such a blow. As her blade clanged hard against his battle-battered greaves, he stumbled backwards.

Lexa leapt into action, assaulting the retreating man with a succession of sudden attacks.

He grunted, his breath drawing in quick bursts with the peripeteia of combat. Emboldened by her enemy’s perpetually slower parries, Lexa ducked under a final graceless swing and landed a devastating blow to the center of his cuirass.

The large man stumbled, and this time, fell to his knees. Chest heaving with exertion, Lexa held the tip of her sword to the soft underside of his throat. “Thou hast lost. Apologize.”

“Dear? It’s your turn.”

Lexa shook her head, ridding her overactive mind of knights and chivalry. She cleared her throat and stepped up to the counter.

“Hi.”

The blonde employee was overwhelmingly gorgeous, with bonhomie dripping from her eyes down to the soft smile adorning her lips. Despite the heat in her cheeks and the fluttering in the pit of her stomach, a halcyon wave crashed around Lexa. After what seemed like an eternity, she muttered back a simple greeting.

“What can I do for you today?” The woman rested her hands gently on the counter in front of her, and Lexa, the suddenly smitten woman she was, completely forgot the reason she was actually there. She thought of nothing but the rude man who insulted this beauteous creature before her.

“I would like to formally apologize on behalf of that man from earlier.” Lexa locked eyes with brilliant blue. “He was out of line, and you were nothing but professional and courteous towards him-” Lexa leaned forward to get a better view of the simple name tag pinned to the woman’s white shirt. “Clarke,” she added with a smile.

“That’s sweet of you to say. Thank you,” Clarke bit back her smile. She dropped her voice low, and with a little twinkle in her eye, nodded behind Lexa. “But if you don’t order something in the next ten seconds, you’re going to be witness to a whole lot more rude customers.”

“Right, sorry,” Lexa mumbled as she tried desperately to contain her blushing cheeks. “Half a dozen cannolis, half a dozen peanut butter cookies, and one cream puff, please.”

“Just one cream puff?” Clarke paused, the pastry box half-popped open in her hand.

“I get one for myself every year. A little treat,” Lexa shrugged as she watched Clarke expertly pluck two fluffy pastry cream-filled treats into the box. “Oh, just one.”

Clarke looked up from the display case with a smile so big and bright she could have lit the night sky. “Try meat.” Her full cheeks ignited into an impressive array of pinks and reds as she manically shook her head. “My treat,” Clarke corrected, and Lexa couldn’t help but smile at the fluster-induced spoonerism.

“For being my knight in shining armor,” Clarke finished with a wink that transferred that impressive blush from her cheeks straight to Lexa’s. Her heart triple-timed, desperate to catch up to her racing brain. It wasn’t every day she met a beautiful woman who perhaps, just maybe, shared her slight obsession with lady knights.

“Can you please stop flirting and get on with your job?”

Lexa whipped around, shooting a death glare to the middle-aged woman standing three customers back. “Some of us have better things to do than watch this-” she waved her hand dismissively towards Lexa and Clarke. “Whatever this is.”

“Yeah, flirt on your own time!” Another snappy customer shouted, starting a low rumble of assertion that quickly grew to a cacophonous roar.

Lexa’s jaw hardened. In the minute she’d been standing there, Clarke had never stopped moving. The entire time they were talking, Clarke had been expertly plucking treats from the display case and packaging them neatly. These chthonian people should just crawl back under the filthy rock they came from.

“A little patience goes a long way,” Lexa narrowed her eyes at the woman who started it all.

She was met with a sneer that stoked the fire of anger deep within her belly. Lexa wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her sword once again. “I wish you all no harm, but if provoked, I will respond with force.”

The corybantic crowd drew their weapons: long swords, daggers, maces, axes, all glistened under the fluorescent lights.

Lexa waited atiptoe for some fool to make the first mistake. But her patience soon wore thin, and unwilling to be caught unprepared, she pulled her own knightly sword from her hip.

A jumble of footsteps echoed behind her, and Lexa gasped as Clarke, donned in a black Gambeson cinched around her waist with a golden belt and sheath, leapt over the bakery counter. Her boot-clad feet landed with a graceful thump, and she drew her own arming sword.

Lexa wanted to exclaim, to ask a million questions, but the crowd around inched forward. The gleam of polished steel glinted in her eyes. The stuttered adrenaline-infused breaths prickled her ears.

Lexa tightened her grip around the leather-clad hilt, her muscles coiled and ready. Clarke’s back pressed against hers as they both took cautious steps, painting an unseen circle on the old hardwood floors, surveying their numerous enemies.

The ephemeral dance ended in a flick of a wrist. The crowd fell in on them, a mess of steel and wood. Clang after clang, Lexa deflected the attacks, all the while keeping an alert ear to the sound of Clarke fighting.

Her fair maiden was no amateur.

The whistle of a well-made blade cut through the air behind her like a song of combat. Clarke’s back bumped against hers as a particularly devious blow caught Lexa’s sword.

A steady hand grasped her free one, and with a knowing squeeze, they twirled on their heels, exchanging foes in a deadly dance that couldn’t have been better choreographed if they tried.

They fought, side by side, deflecting here, helping there, until their foes we’re nothing more but a groaning mess of plate armor and chainmail amongst the floorboards.

Lexa wiped the sweat from her brow, sheathing her sword with a satisfied smirk. “My lady,” Lexa assessed the destruction around them.  “You wield a sword to rival me.”

With a satisfied twirl of her blade, Clarke slipped the weapon securely into her sheath. “I expect not a savior, but a partner, my good dame.”

She smirked at Lexa, all satisfied and battle lust-filled. The kilig was unbearable, so Lexa took a bold step forward, wrapped her hand around Clarke’s neck, and leaned in.

“I’ll be right with the next customer,” Clarke smiled politely to the back of the crowd. She caught Lexa’s gaze, her face a little more flushed. “Thirty-seven dollars even.”

Lexa signed the electronic pad and accepted the pastry box from Clarke. With nothing more than a shy smile, she sulked towards the door, mindful to give that middle-aged love-hater an intimidating glare as she passed.

“Dear, this is unacceptable.”

Lexa turned around just in time to be leveled with a heartbreaking disappoint glare that grandmothers executed with perfection. Her line partner heaved a heavy sigh, her plastic shopping bag crinkling against her long coat in the process.

“What do you mean?” Lexa swallowed down the urge to cower.

“This shilly-shally-” she waved frantically at Lexa. “Just ask that young lady out. There isn’t a nobler cause in the world than matters of the heart, dear.”

The woman was right.

Lexa squared her shoulders and marched straight to the front of the line, ignoring several annoyed glares in the process. But when she reached the display case, Clarke was nowhere to be found. A chipper brunette stood in her place, tending to customers with a smile too big to be considered normal.

A few more frantic minutes were spent scouring the shop, and when she finally caved and asked an employee, she was informed that Clarke had been sent home for the day.

Lexa sulked out of the bakery, slipping the pastry box carefully into the passenger seat of her car. Her fingers gripped the keys, when out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of blonde.

Keys forgotten, Lexa hopped out of the car.

Clarke whirled around the parking lot, her unbuttoned coat fluttering in the freezing wind, searching for something. She turned down Lexa’s row. Her frantic movements halted.

Lexa offered a gentle wave, and Clarke began the slow walk towards her. The closer she came, the more manic Lexa’s heart. Clarke, rid of her bakery uniform, strode towards her with a gleam in her eyes. Her jeans, the midnight blue scarf tied haphazardly around her neck, the little gray beanie perched atop her blonde waves, it all added to the gawsy appeal.

“Hi.”

A glorious gallimaufry of emotions washed over Lexa with that one word. Her stomach fluttered, her brain fuzzed, and her fingers tingled with the need to touch. But Lexa stamped it all down and smiled a simple, “Hello.”

Clarke shoved her hands in her pockets, suddenly insecure, the vicissitudes of her emotions written plainly on her face. “My replacement finally showed up,” she mumbled into the frigid air.

“Long day?”

“The longest.” Clarke shifted from foot to foot, and the wind caught the lapels of her winter coat. A flash of a familiar symbol burned into Lexa’s eyes. A logo.

Not just any logo. The logo to the state renaissance faire. A faire Lexa regularly frequented during its season, soaking in the swordplay and artisans, the weaponry and the atmosphere. And here her new love was, standing before her, broadcasting to the world her interest in medieval merriment.

If Lexa wasn’t already a mess from a simple conversation in the bakery, she certainly was a catastrophe now.

“Would you like to get a drink with me?” Clarke’s voice held none of the worries her body showed.

Lexa stepped forward, grasped Clarke’s hand, and pressed a feather-light kiss to her knuckles. With gentle flourish, because what kind of noble knight would she be if she denied a lady such as Clarke a swoon-worthy acceptance, Lexa nodded, “It would be my honor.”

[quartz-slab]

(The Side) You’re On

@mincecruft, @nb-sponge, @endstone-brick and I wrote another fic, this time featuring team ZIT! It’s inspired by something that happened in Icarus but not in the same continuity. You don’t have to read Icarus to understand this one, but you definitely should if you haven’t already.

And as always, go check out @ask-elementalhermitcraft if you want to see more of this au!

---

For once, it seemed like Tango would actually be able to contribute something useful to this battle. Normally, by this point, he was already stuck in a stalemated fight with Impulse. His frie- his fellow fire elemental always sought him out whenever they were on the same battlefield, never giving him a chance to engage with anyone else. Tango wasn’t sure why - between their similar powers and their years of sparring together, they were so evenly matched that their fights were almost always cut short by a call to retreat before either could get the upper hand. 

But Impulse had yet to show himself; maybe he was back at the STAR base, hiding behind his ghast canon. It didn’t seem likely, given the lack of fireballs flying at them, but Tango could hope, right? He scanned the area around him, looking for somewhere he could contribute while he was still free to do so. Through the rain, a gleam of reflected light caught his eye. Turning, he saw False approaching Mumbo, sword in one hand and a reflective shield raised with the other. Fire automatically ignited in his hands as he moved towards them to help his teammate.

He made it about four steps before a very familiar whip of fire lashed in front of him, cutting off his path and making him stumble back in surprise. His fire flared brighter and started to creep up his arms as he whirled around, locking eyes with its wielder.

Impulse stood a few feet away from him, surrounded by faint curls of steam as his heat aura evaporated any nearby rain and made the air around him shimmer. He was drawing back for another attack, but Tango didn’t give him time to strike again. Boots sliding on the wet grass, he threw himself into a sprint to close the distance between them, sending a blast of fire toward his opponent.

Of course, it didn’t do much except singe his armor and momentarily obscure his vision. It was the same mistake Tango always seemed to make when they fought; his first instinctive response was to use his element the way he would against any other attacker. But Impulse wasn’t any other attacker, and trying to burn him was about as pointless as trying to give Stress hypothermia. Tango needed to get his head in gear and focus. He knew how to do this, what strategies to use and what attacks would actually work.

Unfortunately, so did Impulse. With a flick of his wrist, he lashed out his whip again. Tango immediately ducked to the side, dropping low to the ashen ground in an attempt to dodge, but instead of hitting him, the fire was snuffed out like a candle inches away from his face. While Tango was still off balance from the feint, Impulse snapped out a kick, his shin hitting Tango’s calves and knocking his legs from under him.

His lower back hit the ground hard. He was barely able to recover, rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself up to a low crouch. He spun on his feet quickly, rising up fast to a ready pose. Feet apart, knees bent, hands out and his heart steadying just so he could focus. For a moment, they watched each other. The air was still and sweltering; the only sounds were labored breathing and the crackling of flames as the energy built up and up. Tango shifted his weight slightly, leaning more onto his right as he pushed a shoulder forward. Impulse tensed immediately, hand twitching as it threatened to summon another concentrated whip of flame.

Hoping to distract his fr- opponent, Tango started to speak, letting the fire that was still burning in his hands die down to fizzling embers, flames licking around his knuckles. “Man, you just don’t stop, do you? You must be really eager for me to finally kick your butt.”

Impulse scoffed. “As if you could.”

“You’re lucky we keep getting interrupted, otherwise I would have shown you already,” Tango replied with a cocky grin that quickly switched to a distinct and pointed grimace. Even now, after everything, he couldn’t help falling back into the type of banter they used to have when they sparred, as if they were just having a friendly competition. As if they were still friends. As if this was still just a game.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Impulse started, his confidence palpable, but Tango was no longer in the mood for talking.

His fires abruptly flared back to life in his hands, their tips reaching high into the sky. His knees bent quick and pushed off, launching himself towards Impulse with a fiery vengeance. Impulse jumped back in surprise, attempting to brace himself with a foot steady behind him and crouching lower to the ground. It did little to help against Tango’s assault. Instead of a punch or a fire in his eyes, Impulse felt the hard impact of Tango slamming into his chest, and the ground came out from under him as they both went tumbling down the steep slope that they fought on top of. Each impact knocked the wind out of both of them until they were at the bank of the river at the bottom of the hill.

Tango could hear the water rushing right by his ear, felt it sizzle on his neck as it stung like ice on his bare skin. Quickly, he pulled himself up to his feet, struggling to balance from the twisting and rolling down the hillside. His vision swirled in confusion, but he gained his footing, boots sinking into the soft mud. Impulse was just as frazzled, holding his head and brushing off his clothes as he blinked rapidly, attempting to clear his vision.

Impulse still wasn’t fully composed. Tango couldn’t say he was either, but he could move, he could fight, he could act first and gain the upper hand. He stepped back, half of his foot stuck in the mud. Warm flames encased his hands, wrapping around his knuckles and wrists, and he pulled back. Pushing off of the mud proved difficult; he wasn’t able to move properly as he launched himself at Impulse a second time.

At the last second, Impulse ducked down, but Tango was moving too quickly to stop himself from running into him. Someone was shouting behind him, but Tango didn’t get a chance to hear who it was as his momentum sent him tripping over Impulse’s crouched form and straight into the rushing water next to him.

Everything hurt. The shock of the icy cold water drove every thought from his mind as the overflowing river pulled him downstream. He tried to flail, to grab onto something, anything, but his limbs seemed to freeze solid as the rapids threatened to wash his consciousness away.

---

Impulse saw Tango coming at him through the dark haze that covered his dizzying vision. His heart rate picked up as he tried to tell up from down. Had he hit his head on the way down the hill? Nothing seemed to hurt anymore, except the pain behind his eyes and the sore and tired joints sapping his stamina, but his head was still spinning, throwing off his balance. Still, he was able to duck in time.

He could see Tango trying to stop himself, digging his heels into the ground, but he was moving too fast and the space between them was too small. His legs hit Impulse’s side, and he was airborne for a brief second before landing in the river with a splash that was audible even through the rain.

Back on the main battlefield, Doc shouted something that sounded like an order, but Impulse wasn’t listening. His wide eyes were trained on Tango, watching as his old friend was swept away by the river.

“Wait - no - TANGO!” Impulse yelled, but the sound of thunder drowned out his voice. His thoughts raced, and his body seemed to move on its own as he started to run after Tango. In his panic, he wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings, and he slipped on the muddy ground. He caught himself before completely faceplanting, and a quiet hissing sounded under his hands as the water in the mud started to evaporate from the heat of his aura. Forcing himself back up, he continued his frantic pursuit, still partially coated in mud that quickly dried on his skin.

He shot a beam of heat at the river in an attempt to evaporate it, or at least slow it down, but the pouring rain made his efforts futile. Impulse’s thoughts became even more chaotic as he raced against the current, neither contestant willing to slow down in this impromptu race.

His legs started to burn as he sprinted, Tango’s limp body still a few feet ahead of him. Someone was yelling behind him, but he was too panicked to care. A sharp U-turn in the river was coming up, and when the rapids that carried Tango reached it, he was partially thrown out of the water. The other fire elemental still wasn’t fully in the clear yet, as the current lapped at his lower body, threatening to pull him back in.

However, the U-turn had given Impulse the opportunity he needed to catch up. Running up to Tango, he hastily grabbed his arm, the splashes from the river sizzling on his skin as he pulled his old friend to dry land.

Quickly but carefully dragging him away from the river, Impulse helped Tango into a sitting position on the side of a hill and checked him over. Other hermits might think that he was at normal temperature, but as a fellow fire elemental, he knew that this was far colder than normal. Impulse immediately directed a wave of heat at him in order to warm him back up.

Finally having a moment to really process what was happening, Impulse sighed and stared at Tango, trying to understand the confusing mix of emotions he felt. The panic from seeing Tango fall into the river had caused him to momentarily forget about all his anger over Tango’s betrayal, and now he didn’t know what to feel - what he should feel. They weren’t friends anymore, they couldn’t be. Tango chose the other side, fought against him, betrayed him, and yet, when he saw him floating lifelessly down the river…

The sight of Tango opening his eyes drew him out of his thoughts. He coughed a few times, letting out small puffs of steam from the water he’d swallowed, then met Impulse’s gaze with a confused expression. Impulse drew back slightly, not sure how he would react. They both stared for a moment, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Tango spoke up.

“Did… did you pull me out?”

Impulse could only nod slightly in response.

Tango glanced away to look at the river for a moment, then looked at the ground. His curled his arms around his knees as he sputtered out his next word. “Why?” He was shaking; Impulse couldn’t tell if it was from the cold water or his overflowing emotions. “Why would you save me? You betrayed me - and I betrayed you! We were brothers, friends forever, but now we’re on opposite sides of a war. So WHY!?” Tango shot to his feet, and Impulse was shocked to see bright lava tears start to form in the corners of his red eyes. “Is this all a trick, huh!? Just some sick trap to-”

Watching Tango vent his heart out caused something to click in Impulse’s mind. Everything about this was painful, seeing Tango, his friend, in such distress… it made him feel sick to his stomach. So, living up to his name, Impulse cut Tango off by wrapping him into a hug.

Tango yelped in surprise, tensing like he expected an attack, but Impulse spoke before he could say anything in protest. “I- I just…I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. I told myself that I hated you, but I don’t, and I can’t keep this facade up anymore. I’m... I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry...” Once he started saying it, he couldn’t seem to stop. Boiling hot tears rolled down his face as all his feelings seemed to spill out of him.

Drops of lava fell onto his sleeve, and Impulse felt Tango’s arms wrap around him. His breath hitched at the gesture, causing him to stop repeating the phrase.

“Impulse, I thought- I thought you... I am so sorry, everything about this was a mistake, I... I…” Tears clogged his speech as he tightened his grip around his friend. The weight of the whole conflict came crashing down, holding them in place. They stood there together, too overwhelmed by the rush of emotions to do anything but hug each other tighter.

---

Luckily for them, their reconciliation happened just as the rest of the conflict was also coming to an end, although they didn’t realize it at the time. Eventually, the others had come to look for them when they didn’t show up after the battle ended. They got only a very basic summary of what had happened while they were distracted - by that point, everyone was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to go back to their respective bases and rest, and no one had the energy for a long and complicated explanation.

The next day, Tango and Impulse met up outside the nether portal in the shopping district, as they had agreed to before leaving the battlefield. After everything that had happened, they wanted some time to just talk to each other. They stepped through the purple haze together and appeared in the nether, heading off toward their usual spot.

This was the place Team Zit would always hang out at. Away from the other hermits, they could let their powers loose without worrying about hurting anyone or getting yelled at for setting someone’s build on fire. That happened less than once a month, but you wouldn’t think so from the way the other hermits carried on about it.

Chatting to each other about how touchy the others could be at times, they soon neared their spot. Tango was about to run and jump into a pool of lava for fun, but Impulse grabbed his arm and shushed him urgently.

“What?” Tango asked with a small pout.

Impulse pointed to a spot just past an outcropping of netherrack. “Look.”

There sat Zedaph, staring out into the vast caverns of the nether. He sighed, the solemn look on his face only just visible from where Impulse and Tango stood. Now that they were both quiet, they could hear a dejected chuckle from the third member of their team. “Heh. Isn’t it hilarious? We’re all on different sides of this stupid war, like it was started just to perfectly divide us up.” He kicked at the ground, sending some particles of soul sand flying.

“And what am I supposed to do here? Can’t convince them to stop, definitely can’t pick a side. I mean, can you imagine if I picked one of them over the other? How would…” He hung his head down and stared into the lava in front of him. “...how would I ever be able to face the other if I did that?” He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“I just…” His voice hitched with the beginning of a sob. “I just want us to be together again, for them to be right here beside me.”

Impulse and Tango looked at each other, both frowning slightly. Tango gestured towards Zed, and Impulse responded with a small nod. Silently, they walked over to their friend, who didn’t even notice them through his small sobs. They sat down on either side of him, Zed’s face still buried in his knees.

Carefully, Impulse placed a hand on Zed’s shoulder. “Hey.”

Zed’ s head whipped up as he turned to look at Impulse. “Huh!? W-When did you get here?”

Impulse gave him a small smile and pointed over his shoulder. “It’s not just me here.”

Zed looked over in that direction, and his eyes widened in shock when he saw Tango, who was giving him a big grin. He shot up and whirled around to face the two of them, backpedaling a few steps. “Wh- what- how- but- you guys are fighting! Why are you both-”

“The war’s over, Zed,” Impulse said, his smile widening. “Everything’s not perfect yet, but it’s getting better.”

Zed stared at them in shock for a moment, unable to react. His eyes darted from Impulse’s face to Tango’s as though he was looking for a sign that they were serious. “You… really mean it?

You’re done fighting?”

“Yeah. We may have been…” Tango grimaced slightly. “Really stupid, but that’s over with. We’re a team, right? It’s time we acted like it again.”

Both of Zed’s teammates were in front of him, and there wasn’t a hint of hostility between them. The part of him that didn’t let him get his hopes up earlier was finally silenced. Tears ran down his face once again as he reached out and wrapped both of them into a big hug.

“You- you guys…” He leaned back slightly so he could look at them. “If you ever do this again I will force you two to get along. Or else!”

Impulse and Tango laughed, and Zed gave them a warm smile. The three of them were together again - and they didn’t plan on being separated anytime soon.

[strongenoughfoundation-blog]

WIP - Snowballs and Sheer Luck (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: You got hit with a snowball out of the blue and universal law states that you must return fire

Word Count: 1,420

Warnings: Language.

A/N: I wrote this ages ago (during that one snowstorm, this was actually the original snowfic I wrote) and then abandoned it. But here’s an abandoned fic for everyone who was so kind and so understanding about me being MIA. _____________________________

“Fuck you, man! I have to meet with Sherry and Greg still. Some of us have to be responsible adults!” Tommy laughed at Lin who had insisted on tagging along as Tommy walked to this meeting. He also insisted on detouring through the park to appreciate the large patches of untouched snow and Tommy was always one to oblige his more romantic-minded friend.

It was always a given to budget more time than usual when Lin tagged along on commutes, but the snow made it ten times worse. Lin had decided that his source of entertainment during their journey was to launch snowballs at Tommy, making himself burst into a fit of laughter every time one met his target. When Tommy had agreed to let Lin join him on his trek through the snowy city he had also accepted the possibility that he would not reach the meeting with his clothes as dry as when he left for it. But that did not mean that he appreciated Lin’s attack.

“You’re gonna be late anyways, might as well let me have my fun” Lin’s laughter rang through the park before he bent down to pack another snowball - this one larger than all the others.

“Oh hell no.” Tommy jogged down the path, mindful of snowdrifts as he attempted to get a far enough distance away that he could count on Lin’s terrible accuracy to keep him safe.

Lin still launched the snowball towards him, forcing Tommy to spin quickly in hopes that it’d hit him on his back instead of his neck like the last snowball.

“Oh!” Tommy heard a surprised cry after the sound of the snow colliding with something. Tommy whirled around to see a girl pulling out her headphones with a look of shock and a blushing Lin looking to Tommy for any sort of help.

“Bye Lin!” Tommy cackled, considering it payback for his sopping clothes as he quickly fled the scene.

Lin’s shoes became the most interesting thing in the world as his brain scrambled to find enough words to string together to form an apology. “Hey, I am so sor-”

He was interrupted by a snowball nailing him right in the shoulder and a chiming laugh. His eyes darted up to take in your laughing form. Your headphones were safely tucked away and you were bent over at the knees as you attempted to control the laughter that was falling from your lips.

“I deserved that,” Lin couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his face.

“Yeah you did!” you agreed, the amusement seeped into your voice and it made Lin’s heart flutter. You straightened, wiping the few tears from your eyes.

“I don’t have the best aim and my friend-”

“What friend?” you interrupted again as you placed your hands on your hips, cocking an eyebrow.

“He was standing behind you, he walked down Roosevelt. He’s got a meeting at-” Lin gestured towards the direction Tommy disappeared in, but he was interrupted once more as you took advantage of the distraction to pack and launch another snowball at him. “Hey!”

“Hi!” you giggled and Lin marveled at how the snow around you didn’t melt from the warmth that you exuded.

“I gave you one for free, it evened the score, but that one was just uncalled for.” Lin exclaimed and you offered him a shrug in response. He stooped down to pack a snowball and you let out a yelp in concern as you began to retreat. He launched one at you, clipping your arm and drawing another laugh from your lips.

“You have terrible aim.” you teased lightheartedly and his hand moved up to his chest as he feigned offence.

“I hit you the first time didn’t I?” he defended.

“That was sheer luck.” you retorted.

“That almost sounds like a challenge.” Lin scoffed and you gave a nonchalant shrug.

“And if it is?”

“I’d say you’re on.” he retorted and with that you two were darting away from each other. You both frantically attempted to pack snow into a solid enough form to throw it towards each other. The pristine patches of snow that had brought Lin outside in the first place began to fill with your footprints and loose snow that would collide with either one of your bodies and fall to the ground.

The rest of the park seemed to awaken at the sound of your shared laughter, drawing more and more people towards you to see what was eliciting such unadulterated joy. People chuckled to themselves as they watched you and Lin frolic, ducking behind snowdrifts in attempts to find cover.

“Come out of there! It’s not fair!” Lin called as you peeked over the top of an exceptionally large drift. Snow hit the front and you squealed before ducking back down.

“I pledge myself to hold this barricade!” you called out, bending down to ball some snow.

“Did you just make a Les Mis reference?” Lin gasped and you bit back a laugh at the sound of his astonishment.

“Maybe?”

“Come out here. Truce! Truce! Anyone who makes Les Mis references during a snowball fight is no enemy of mine.” Lin declared and you peeked again to see him drop the snowball he was holding. You popped up, leaning over the top of the drift to look at him.

“Alright, friend. I don’t think I caught your name.” you propped your head on your hand as your elbow rested on the hard, compact snow.

“Lin. What’s yours, Enjolras?” Lin grinned.

“[Y/N].” you offered and his smile seemed to widen.

“[Y/N],” he repeated, as if to test the weight of it on his tongue. “I like it. It fits you.”

“Thanks, I’m pretty fond of it too.” you quipped, hoping the freezing weather and the physical exertion was enough of an excuse for the blush that was undoubtedly spreading across your face.

“Can I buy you a coffee?” Lin asked and you must’ve looked as surprised as you felt because he laughed. “I mean, if you aren’t needing to be anywhere right now.”

“The impromptu snowball fight with a stranger wasn’t enough of a clue at the availability my schedule holds for the rest of the day?” you joked, trying to ignore the pride you felt when you inspired yet another bright smile from him

“I wasn’t going to assume, Enjolras.” he said teasingly and the snowball you were hiding found its way towards him. He ducked best he could, the snow skimming the top of his shoulder. “That was just mean! We called a truce!”

“I couldn’t let a perfectly good snowball go to waste!” you defended.

“That’s it, you’re buying.” Lin proclaimed and you laughed.

“Alright, Marius. Come take your place with me.” you finally emerged from behind the drift.

“Charming me with more Les Mis references does not excuse the betrayal of our treaty.” Lin informed you, the way his eyes gleamed said otherwise.

“What about all the other ways I’m charming you?” you jested.

“Is it that obvious?” Lin flirted easily and you once again had to ignore a blush that was gracing your cheeks, one that Lin didn’t miss.

Lin was watching you talk but he couldn’t focus on a word you were saying. He probably would’ve felt guilty if he wasn’t completely consumed by the spark in your eyes and the curve of your lips. He was spinning his coffee cup in circles with his fingers on the table as his mind tried to come up with the right way to ask to see you again without seeming crazy.

You let the conversation trail off, comfortable in the silence. Lin seemed otherwise preoccupied and after everything that he had mentioned about his work you weren’t all that surprised. Your brief brush with writing made you respect the fact that inspiration respects no setting and will strike whenever it pleases.

“Can I take you to dinner?” Lin finally broke the silence, surprising you with a question for the second time that day.

“What?” you asked dumbly, your mind reeling to catch up from the place where it had just been residing - a daydream in which you were watching Lin write.

“Can I take you out to dinner sometime? Or lunch if that’s too formal.” Lin repeated, his eyes trailed from his cup to your face, daring a glance.

“Dinner sounds nice.”

[sadwizardjessi]

Space Grumps inspired fic

Yeah. I’m trash. And I’m obsessed with @dannyaviclan damn Space Grumps au right now. Seriously man, you all should go read it!! It’s stupid good :D SO anyhow, here’s a fic I wrote from it. Sorry if anything is odd or not right with the au. I tried to keep it all in line, but of course we all have different views on ideas so. Here’s mine :)

So without further adieu, here we go! Yeh.

Brian had really fucked him over this time.

Dan used a hand to shield against one of the blinding suns of this planet, squinting to battle the other. From what he could make out, desert went on for miles, stretching as far as the eye can see. Dan kicked at the red dust below his feet, not at all satisfied as it spun up into the air, lazily drifting back down into the dry soil.

To be perfectly honest, Dan wasn’t even sure what had happened.

One moment he and Brian were laughing at something fucking stupid, couldn’t even recall what it was at this point, the next Brian was silent, pulling out a red gem and shoving it into Dan’s hands, a wild look in his eyes. Through their telepathic link he had said, “Don’t let anyone catch you with this. I’ll be back soon.” Before forcefully shoving Dan into the transporter.

Said transporter wasn’t really meant for transporting live organisms any greater size than a goat…. Though Dan supposed, there probably weren’t goats in the future. At least not the ones he was used to seeing.

So after e had rematerialised on the odd planet's surface, jewel in hand, Dan had spent the next hour shouting at the sky for Brian to come back. After receiving no answer, Dan put away the gem in one of his many pockets and decided to walk. Eventually he’ll find civilization, right? Brian wouldn’t just abandon him for no reason, and on a deserted planet no less. He knew that because of Dan’s situation, he’d be the last person you’d want to leave alone on an alien planet and no way of contacting the one person he’d trusted since coming to the future.

There was no telling really with how long he walked. It could’ve been hours, it could’ve been days, he had no idea how the time cycle worked here after all. But what he did know was his throat burned from lack of supplement and his stomach growled in anger. Also Dan hadn’t managed to see one single being, human or otherwise, since he’d arrived here. He was pretty sure he was going to die.

At least that was until Dan saw a large and intimidating ship fly overhead, before touching the planet's surface not a few yards away, the force from the jet engines nearly knocking Dan over as the wind kicked up sand in his hair and eyes. Dan had to look away just so he could not breath the stuff in.

From what he could see, three men came off the ship, discussing something intensely before looking in Dan’s direction. Brian’s words of caution rang in his mind.

“Don’t let anyone catch you with this.”

So Dan ran. And he was pretty sure the creatures ran too upon noticing Dan’s hasty escape.

Already out of breath, Dan tried to formulate a plan. On one hand he could just toss the damn jewel at them. They had to be after that, right? Or maybe they just happened to see this random fucking person wandering an empty planet and thought ‘hey let’s scare the shit out of him’. Then Dan up and runs, making them suspicious.

He shook his head. No. Something in his gut told him this had to do with the jewel that was put into his possession.

ANd that’s when he saw it. A town. A real fucking town. Unless of course his mind was playing tricks, but Dan really hoped not, for he could hear the cascade of boots drawing closer. If he was slowing down or they were speeding up, he did not know.

And finally, just as a skyline of buildings were being materialised in a much more reachable distance. Dan could just make out a- hover bike?- As something caught on Dan’s foot, making him fall to the ground harshly, red sand going up his orifices and causing Dan to freeze up with a violent cough, giving his pursuers the time they needed to catch up to him.

Glancing down at what he had hit, Dan gasped at what looked like a… wooden post? One that had obviously been cut down though. He didn’t have time to ponder the odd placement of it though as he was being kicked over to lay on his back, three disgusting beings hovering over him, greed and hunger in their beady eyes.

Dan had to fight the urge to gag at the disgusting smell the men were radiating. ‘Where they even men, though?’ Dan thought to himself. They could just as easily be women, what with the black/grey wrinkled skin, and hunched over backs, and three arms, all wielding claws and what Dan could only assume to be a gun. More than anything, Dan wished Brian was here. If not to save him, to at least identify what kind of beasts these were so Dan would at least have something to go on.

They all clacked in unison, pincers hidden by black lips, clicking and hissing into what Dan could only assume to be words. He looked confused between the three, trying to convey his issue with their language without coming across as rude.

Then one pressed what appeared to be a pen against his neck, Dan flinching from it but as a grotesque hand held him against it, there wasn’t much Dan could do.

A sharp pain shot into his neck up to his head, but he wasn’t focused on that. His attention was solely on the fact that suddenly, he could understand them. It wasn’t a very comforting conversation though.

“-kill him already! We know he has the gem!”

“Oh shut up already, I shot the injection, he can hear you now!”

One of them did what Dan thought to be a scowl, glaring down at the human laying before them. “Uhh… yeah. Hello. What exactly did you do to me?” Dan asked, uneasily, waving a hand but instantly dropping it at the death glare he received.

One spit on Dan’s leg, where it sizzled slightly, not exactly burning, but not very pleasant either.

“Shut up, human, we know you have it!”

Feigning ignorance, Dan was suddenly sure the jewel was what they were after. “What!?” He exclaimed, trying to subtly crawl backwards, but they saw right through him and immediately shot at the ground behind him, causing Dan to freeze in place.

“Don’t play coy, boy. Just hand over the jewel, and we won’t hurt you.”

Dan remained silent, eyes frantically looking for an escape. He thought he’d seen some dust swirl oddly, as if around a human form, but he didn’t think too much on it as suddenly a gun was being pointed between his eyes, a sickening grin behind it on the wielder.

“Hmph, very well. We’ll just have to pry it from your cold, dead hands!”

Though the line was an obvious cliche, Dan felt true fear spike through his chest, his eyes squeezing shut tightly, body tense and trembling. WHy the fuck did Brian give him this stupid thing? Why did he just drop him off on some unknown planet, no help, no life, just danger and soon death. Were these people chasing Brian? Was Dan some form of distraction? Was that all he was to Brian? Dan didn’t want to make assumptions on his best friend, but what else could he gather from this? Sure he could just hand over the gem and run, but Dan was almost certain they’d shoot him regardless, no point in dying a coward. Dan cringed at himself as tears arose. But who could blame him, wanting to cry in his final moments.

Suddenly three shots rang out in the dry, empty desert, making Dan jump and whimper at the loud noise.

But no pain came. Only the sound of bodies dropping, something wet dashing his cheek, as a shadow passed over his closed eyelids. With great hesitance, Dan slowly opened one eye, afraid to see what else was about to befall him, but instead of the three disgusting aliens, he was met with a cocky grin full of sharp teeth, and a dull pink uniform, dotted slightly with blood.

The man put a hand on his hip, gun in the air, smoke still rising from the warm barrel. “What’s a human like yourself doing in a place like this, hm?”

Dan gasped at the tail that swished back and forth behind the man, glancing up nervously at those sharpened teeth and reptilian like pupils,but… this guy did technically, just save Dan. And for that he was grateful, if not confused. He looked back at the bodies, stomach seizing slightly. Blood and death tended to make him queasy. “Are you going to try and kill me too?” Dan asked dully. Brian had left him here to die after all.

The creature’s eyes widened slightly, gun hand falling as he shifted his stance, from cocky to surprised and then finally guilt. “Wha- no! I just- ugh sorry. I was trying to look cool.”

A gloved hand was extended in Dan’s direction, that ferocious smile turning somewhat more friendlier and closed lipped. “I’m Captain Arin Hanson. I pilot the star craft, Starbomb. But you can just call me Arin, okay? And you are?”

Dan eyed the suspiciously sharp looking glove, but… this was the future. And space. Maybe it was normal to have sharp teeth and a tail on some planets?

Reluctantly, Dan took the hand, gasping slightly when he was easily pulled up. “I uh. Hi. I’m Dan. Avidan. People usually call me Danny. I uh I don’t pilot anything,” he said with a slight chuckle, feeling the gem’s weight lessen slightly as he felt he was no longer being hunted for it. A smirk appeared on his lips though and suddenly he couldn’t help himself. “I help navigate on the Starship Enterprise.”

Arin’s grin twisted up into a grin of amusement, arms crossing after replacing his weapon. “I watch star trek, man. Try again.”

“They have Star Trek in the future!?” Dan exclaimed without thinking. Then followed by a wince. He cleared his throat, trying to cover up what he had unknowingly revealed. “Uhh. Sorry. My uhh, my ship flew off. Without me,” Dan said nervously, kicking at the dust and looking away. He wasn’t sure what to reveal and what not to reveal. It didn’t seem like this guy was after the gem, but Brian had said- You know what. No! Fuck Brian! Dan crossed his arms in a huff, suddenly not really caring what Brian had warned him. He’d left him on a new planet, knowing that Dan didn’t know jack shit about space other than the few things he’d bothered to explain to him since bringing him here. “My prick of a best friend handed me some stupid fucking gem and left me here, saying he’d ‘be back soon’. Whatever the fuck that could mean.”

A laugh truly like no other, Arin clapped Dan on the shoulder, making the thinner man jump slightly. “Damn, that sucks hella balls. Mind if I see that gem for a second though?” Dan eyed the- Dinosaur! That’s it. He looks like a Dinosaur/human/Lizard thing- warily, not sure if he should.

“Dude, come on, look. I’ll even let you hold my gun, okay?”

At the offer, Dan agreed, though only pulling out the gem after he held possession of the gun. Little did he know, Arin could easily take him down before Dan even raised his arm to aim.

Tossing the gem over in gloved hands, Arin looked at Dan in confusion. “Uhh, Dan? You know this jewel is fake, right?”

“What!?” Dan put the gun back in Arin’s holster, the sudden contact making Arin jump slightly, giving Dan the chance to snatch the gem back, examining it in the light. “How can you tell!”

With a pointed finger, Arin pointed to a scratch on the side, a wry grin in place. “See that right there? A real gem wouldn’t scratch like that. That and… well I can smell the chemicals that went into faking it.”

“Sonofabitch!” Dan threw the thing on the ground in a rare spark of anger, stress and fear and betrayal coursing through him. Arin placed a hand on Dan’s shoulders, seeing the human deflate suddenly, never one to really hold onto anger for very long. “Now what am I gonna do…?” Dan asked sadly. He surely couldn’t just wait here until Brian returns. Who knew when that would be. And besides, he didn’t have any money. Already his throat and stomach were assaulting him from all directions, begging for nourishment.

As if on cue, Dan’s stomach gave a loud noise, Dan groaning and covering it in shame.

Biting his lip, as if in thought, Arin opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by a blue beeping on a device that greatly resembled an old flip phone in Dan’s opinion. With an irritated sigh, Arin pulled up the device, flipping it open, wondering in quiet amusement, just what was so shocking about the blue hologram of his ship’s AI that caused the man to gasp and stare disbelievingly.

“Captain,” the hologram said, a smile in place. “All supplements have been procured on The Starbomb. All crew members have returned without fail. We await your arrival to take off.”

Glancing between the AI and the human before him, eyes still widened comically in wonder, hands held over a hungry belly.

“Hey Dan?”

Dan looked up at his savior in confusion, one scarred eyebrow raised. “Yeah, Arin?”

“How would you feel about joining my crew while in search of your friend? We’ll provide you with free food and shelter so long as you’re with us.”

Dan’s face went through an array of emotions, until settling on gratitude, a smile widening on his face. “You had me at free food, honestly.”

Arin laughed, clasping Dan’s hand and nodding down at Barry once more. “Barry! You heard the man, make preparations for one more Bomber to join our recruits! And Dan, I must say. Welcome aboard the Starbomb. Glad to have you on hand.”

[larryfanfiction]

Ao3?   

objectlesson

Tumblr?   

xabjectlessonsx 

Name?  

Phoenix

Age?  

26

How long have you been a fan of One Direction?  

Oh god, I only got into them in May, and even then I wouldn’t have felt comfortable calling myself a fan until around July or August. So only about five months! I’m a baby Directioner, probably why I’m not dead inside yet.

What is your favorite fic?  

Wild and Unruly by 100percentsassy and Gloria Andrews. It’s seriously one of my favorite works of art in the entire universe, it’s the romance novel I wish I had when I was seventeen and longing for queer cowboys and drama and star crossed lovers and angst. It’s perfect. I feel like they looked into my soul and saw how much I needed ranch Harry singing Dolly Parton to a cow, and an almost kiss happening after he sucks amniotic fluid out of a calve’s nose. That is just so up my alley. I absolutely adore that story, everything about it. It probably helps that I have a cat named Jolene who I’m more than a little obsessed with.

When did you start writing?  

I’ve been writing since I was a tiny child (my mom would hand bind my ‘books’ with ribbon!) but I’ve been writing fan fiction for like fifteen years. The first fic I ever wrote was when I was 12, and it was bandom slash so I apparently haven’t changed much.

What was your favorite fic to write and why?  

My favorite 1D fic to write was probably A Little Love is Better than None because it was one of my very first ventures into the fandom so I was still figuring out their characters and voices, which was such a pleasure. It just sort of flooded out really easily and naturally too, like it was waiting to be written. I also LOVE to write pining and Harry pines HARD in that story.

How and where do you find inspiration? 

 Everywhere, honestly! I’m a people watcher and I really enjoy writing in chaotic environments like the food court at the mall, partially so I can constantly be observing the mess of humanity around me and draw energy from that. I’m also really inspired by the raw material of this fandom. You probably noticed I mostly write canon fic, and that’s largely because this canon is so incredibly rich with lore and evidence and text, it’s begging to be mined for the sake of storytelling. I watch interviews all the time (there are so many holy shit) and I take so much inspiration from them, just watching these boys interact and observing their power dynamics and their body language and their patterns and evolution and chemistry. I’m not sure I’ve ever stumbled into a fandom so inspiring, honestly.

Are any of your stories influenced by personal experience?   

VERY MUCH SO. I draw enormous amounts of inspiration from my own experiences as a queer teenager navigating sexual exploration and heartbreak. I love writing queer coming of age stories in part because I wad so deeply and indelibly affected by the love and pain and longing and newness I felt as an adolescent, the first time I fell in love or has my heart broken. I love trying to capture the enormity and terror of teenage love in my writing.

How do you get over writer’s block?  

I go read fanfiction!! Nothing helps be reframe my own writing than reading talented authors who are perhaps telling the same story (two guys meet and fall in love and are changed forevermore) but telling it in an entirely different way.

How often do you sit down to write? What does your ideal work setting look like?  

I try and write every other day at least but it gets hard with life and work and whatnot. That being said, I usually write at least three times a week for several hours when I’m really in the middle of something. Ideally, I’m at a corner table with an outlet at a busy Peets Coffee, listening to a playlist I made specifically for whatever I’m writing, and sipping a latte! I love writing in chaotic, crowded places with lots of people and energy occupying the space. Unfortunately, I don’t always get first pick of coffee shop and end up writing a lot at the Starbucks by my work, which is not ideal but definitely my stomping grounds.

Pick 3 things that are absolutely necessary to make a good story!  

TENSION, MUTUAL PINING, AND DRAMATIC RESOLUTION!!! I absolutely LIVE for slow build stories with lots and tension building over thousands of words. Live for it. I love those moments where the air is crackling and they’re both breathless and electric and terrified, wanting each other so bad without knowing for certain the other is truly interested?! My absolute favorite. Of course, there has to be a resolution though, and the ones that work best for me are dramatic and have a double reveal…like I totally enjoy the tension breaking over something physical like a kiss, but I really love when they actually talk about if afterwards. Like, “I had a crush on you the whole time!!” “No way, me too!!!” Only…better written, you get the idea.

A good character in literature is usually one that goes through a lot of changes and grows dynamically from beginning to end. What is/are your favorite character arcs, and could you give us an example of one from one of your stories?  

My favorite character arc is when a teenager is starting to really explore and understand his or her sexuality. Navigating the terror of that desire, forging the storm even though it’s scary, and being rewarded ultimately with mutual love is something I never, ever get tired of reading in all its incarnations. For example, Louis figuring himself out in A Taste of Poison Paradise, realizing how his experiences with Hannah compared to what he was feeling with Harry, and attempting to shore up that part of himself and his history in the face of falling in love so suddenly. MY JAM.

What is your favorite genre/tag to write? 

PINING!!! Also love Hurt/Comfort and a number of different kink tags I wont go into ;)

Are you currently working on something? Can we have a little preview?  

I’m working on sooooo many different WIPs! Here’s a little teaser from one of my many X Factor stories in the works:

Louis scrolls through his music for the right song and Harry steals glances at his face, the sharp line of his cheekbone somehow existing alongside the soft curve of his cheek, his blue eyes scanning contemplatively across the screen, his pink tongue poking at pursed lips. Harry’s neck gets hot. Louis is the cutest boy he’s ever seen in his entire life, he’s thought so since the second he saw him, and frantically texted his friends THERES A BOY WHO LOOKS LIKE FRANKIE FROM THE SATURDAYS HERE!!!! shortly before actually meeting Louis and sending the follow up text: frankie boy is named louis like lou-ee and im in love. he seems gay but he has a gf apparently?? :(

That text seems like fate now because he was obviously joking about being in love then, but he did end up falling in love, fast and hard and sudden, the kind of love that he didn’t even have time to talk himself out or or get frightened by because it was just there, choking him like a vine, covering the whole of his heart so that he could not move without gouging himself on a thorn. It just was.  He sighs to himself, thumbing over Louis’s earbud, imagining all the times he laid in his bed in Doncaster with it in his ear, listening to music while he was studying, or feeling sad, or wishing he wasn’t alone.

“Found it,” Louis announces, and Harry considers the fact that Louis might not ever feel alone, not like he does. He’s probably surrounded by friends all the time, loud raucous groups of theater kids and football blokes, the girlfriend Harry hasn’t heard anything about since meeting in his lap, holding his hand. Harry has loads of friends too but he still feels alone sometimes, still lies in his bed with his headphones in listening to love songs and wondering what it would feel like to want someone so badly. He winkles up his nose at himself and smiles, because now he knows. It feels like a vine, like thorns, like the whole night sky and all it’s stars.  All that crazy, poetic stuff he used to be skeptical of, here in his own chest. It’s insane. 

Anything you would like to say to your readers? 

Thank you so, so, so much for reading and reviewing and accepting me so eagerly and wholeheartedly into this wonderful fandom. Big fandoms can be intimidating because there’s so much excellent work, and it’s a challenge be noticed amid such brilliance, so I’m endlessly grateful for and stunned by the reception I’ve gotten. Every time I end up on a rec list alongside my favorite authors, or every time one of those authors comments on one of my stories, I’m just so, so fucking blown away. Thank you. 

Thank you, Phoenix!! We absolutely love your fics and are so happy to have you in this fandom!