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snowdice · 6 months ago

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Folds in Paper: Book 2 (Chapter 1: Reprieve) [Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sander Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, Logan/Virgil, Roman & Patton & Logan

Characters: Janus, Patton, Emile, Remus, Roman, Logan, Virgil, Remy

Summary: Janus is trying. After spending months trapped in time with his enemy turned... something else, Janus is trying to find meaning in a world where he or anyone else could rewrite history with one simple mistake.

During his leave from the Time Preservation Initiative, the time distortions that have been causing disastrous ripples in time have not gone anywhere. His partner's past is more mysterious than ever and old and new alliances are shifting. Can Janus figure out what is going wrong with time before that time is up?

The problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12.

Chapter Summary:

Things are harder, better, but harder.

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol, sexual innuendo, character with depression, character with ptsd

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted).

This is Book 2, Check out Book 1 and the other part of this series here.

“What’s this?” Janus asked when a giant bowl was set on the coffee table in front of him.

“We’re eating on the couch tonight,” Emile said cheerfully.

Janus raised an eyebrow and switched off the tablet he’d been using. “Why?” he asked, setting the device aside.

Emile shrugged and set a second huge bowl down next to Janus’s. “For fun,” Emile said. He turned back towards the kitchen and Janus leaned forward to look in the bowl. It was spaghetti with some sort of creamy sauce and a few different vegetables mixed in along with some shrimp.

“I made green tea too,” Emile said, coming back into the room with two mugs.

“Thanks,” Janus said, taking one of the mugs with a small smile.

“What were you doing?” Emile asked as he took a seat beside Janus. He nodded at the deactivated screen now sitting on the end table.

“Just playing some puzzle games,” Janus said.

“That sounds fun,” Emile said with a smile.

“Head doctor said they might be a good thing to do to pass the time when I told him to fuck off after suggesting reading.”

Emile sighed. “Dr. Figueroa is my colleague. You could try to be polite.”

“I thought I was supposed to be my authentic self in therapy,” Janus replied.

Emile just huffed and rolled his eyes. Janus couldn’t help but smile as he picked up his mug of green tea.

The last few months had been…different. In a lot of ways, Janus’s life had become harder than it had been before. It had been easy to do nothing but eat pre-prepared meals, go to work, and pass out in his empty house every day. It wasn’t good for him. He’d known it even then, but it had been easy. This was not.

Emile had offered, insisted really, that Janus move into his house for a bit just to get back on his feet. He’d taken time off of the TPI which would have been given to him anyway since he’d spent so long trapped in the past. He’d had to give a report of what had happened, and he’d mentioned Patton, but he hadn’t mentioned everything. They’d offered him a shrink when he’d asked.

Janus had told Emile he needed to tell him something about why he’d been distant, so he wouldn’t end up chickening out, but he’d asked for a bit of time to figure out what to say. He’d finally worked up the courage to talk about it with Dr. Figueroa two weeks ago. Much like with Patton, it was easier to talk to someone who hadn’t been involved in Janus’s mistake, but it still wasn’t easy.

He was running up on the deadline he’d given Emile for having that talk. It had to happen soon, and they both knew it, but Emile was just patiently waiting for him to suck it up. It felt… wrong to use his kindness without him knowing the truth, but it was also nice to get to spend time with his brother. He didn’t even dare to hope that he’d still have the chance once he told him.

He was moving back into his own house in less than a week. He’d tell him then so if Emile ended up kicking him out of his life, he wouldn’t have to kick him out of his home too.

For now though, everything was fine. Harder, more complicated, and in threat of imploding at any moment, but fine. Fine wasn’t something he’d really felt in a long time. Or at least, fine while in his own time wasn’t something he’d felt in a long time. There’d been a few moments with Patton sitting next to the fire outside the hole in the ground they’d slept in for those few months where the man would turn to look at him and he’d felt fine. Yet, Patton had been right. Those moments were unsustainable with how Janus was actually feeling deep down.

“This is good,” Janus said, after taking a couple of bites of the pasta in front of him.

“Well, I always was the only one in the house that could cook,” Emile said, and that was true. “It was either learn to fend for myself or eat a cheeseburger for every meal.”

“Hey, I had a good burger seasoning.”

“Not for every meal, Janus.”

“Meat, dairy, bread. What more could you want?”

“Vegetables, Janus.”

“You could have put pickles on them!”

“I don’t like pickles.”

“That sounds like your problem, not mine,” Janus argued.

Emile shook his head, turning his eyes to the ceiling. “How have you been surviving on your own?”

“Well, I mean,” Janus said. “Badly.”

“Right…” Emile said. He leaned over to bump their shoulders together. Janus flashed him a smile.

“Speaking of,” said Janus. “Could you physically force me to pack tonight? I meant to do it today and instead I ended up playing puzzles games.”

Emile chucked. “Sure, I’ll help you after dinner.”

“You don’t have to help me,” said Janus. “Just make me do it.”

“Maybe I want to help,” said Emile.

“Oh, yes, packing. The most entertaining of Thursday night activities.”

Emile hummed and then glanced at him. “Remember when you helped me pack for college?” he asked.

“Mmm, I do,” Janus replied.

“I was so stressed about going somewhere new,” Emile said, “that I avoided packing for weeks. Every time Mom would ask me how packing was going, I’d tell her it was going fine but in reality, I hadn’t even started. You came home two days before I had to leave because you were going to help me move into my dorm. It’s like you could sense no packing had been done the moment you stepped through the front door.”

“You were doing your ‘hiding the broken horse statue from mom’ shuffle,” Janus said with a smirk.

“Well, you walked me straight to my room and we packed everything up in those two days,” Emile said. “You made it so much easier.”

“Yeah, because I hovered over you until you did it and did half of it for you,” Janus snorted.

“It wasn’t just that,” Emile said. “You also found the music streaming station run by the university and put that on and talked about what your freshman year was like. You also had tips on what things I should and shouldn’t pack when moving into the dorm.”

“You still took all of the cartoon character stuffed animals despite my advice.”

“I thought there’d be more space on the bed,” Emile frowned.

Janus snorted.

“But anyway, just having someone else around made me happier. It wasn’t just about the workload being halved either. You being there made me feel less lonely and reminded me I’d always have someone to come back to.”

Janus internally winced. He was sure Emile hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty in any way. In fact, he probably was trying to do the opposite, but him saying that just reminded Janus that it hadn’t been true. Janus had abandoned him for literal years and hadn’t been someone he could always come back to.

The last few months, Emile had proven himself to be at least close to who he was before Janus had messed with time. There were a couple of differences here and there, and Janus could not be sure if they were from him changing time or from him avoiding his brother for the past three years and him naturally changing. Most memories they shared that Janus cautiously brought up or Emile mentioned on his own were consistent with what Janus remembered, but he hadn’t pushed too hard or dug too deep. It just made him feel more guilty about avoiding the man for so long.

It made him want to ignore the man more, because it seemed every choice Janus ever made only hurt him.

…

Well, perhaps not the college radio station when helping an anxious 18-year-old pack up his childhood bedroom.

He should probably tell Emile that his words made him feel guilty because that was obviously not the intention and he’d want to know. He should probably apologize properly for leaving him alone for three years without an explanation. He should probably provide an explanation for those three years.

He should probably go see the head doctor again soon.

(He should probably stop calling Emile’s colleague who was in the same field as him a head doctor derogatorily in his head.)

For now, he just glanced at Emile. “You’re trying to bully me into letting you help pack with logic, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Emile confirmed without remorse.

“Fine,” Janus sighed, “but only if you let me do the dishes for you.”

Emile took a long moment to consider the offer. “You drive a hard bargain,” he said, “but okay.”

“And no doing anything sneaky like getting bags ready for me on your own while I’m doing it or the deal is off,” Janus said.

“You always think of all possible loopholes, Janus,” Emile sighed.

There was a long silence.

“Agree, you prick,” said Janus.

“No promises,” Emile replied cheekily with laughter in his eyes, and things were good for a moment more.

#sanders sides #janus sanders #emile piccani #patton sanders #mociet #time travel #character with depression #character with ptsd #character with anxiety #folds in time universe #folds in paper #adriana writes

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xarrixii · 11 months ago

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to those of inquiry,

my introduction

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hello, fellow traveler of the hellscape that is this website (or app, if you happen to be on your phone using such)

my name is @xarrixii, and i am better known as "arri"

i have a separate blog from this one designed for reblogging other peoples' work. if that's something you're more interested in (my taste in writing), then i suggest you visit @the-arrikive

masterlists a long way under the divider

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i have come from a land not so far away (planet earth) to share the nonsensical nonsense of my brain (my writing).

i write both longer, novel-like stories and responses to writing prompts when i'm feeling it (feel free to send me one, if you'd like). my brain is random, though, so i can't guarantee i'll get something out right away.

i am irregular. do not expect something like weekly uploads. you get a story when i remember to post one and have one available. i shall not rush the accidentally filled plotholes genius i breed.

sometimes i make edits. i've made a lot of edits recently, like layout/ease of access and also wording on some of the earlier chapters. (already read chapter one of cinder? i changed the beginning because i hated it and i personally would put down the book immediately if i'd found it in the library)

i still hate the first sentence but honestly, the noggin can't think of anything better so we'll cry about it later

also, grammarly hates me because i don't like its grammar rules and i don't capitalize my "i"s when i'm casually speaking. i hate grammarly because some of its suggestions are stupid. i just don't want to turn it back on every time i eventually end up needing it.

less important: i am cisgender. i identify with she/her, but i could really care less (not quite sure that counts as any). i am pansexual. (frying pans don't have enough personality, don't ask about them)

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what i like reading:

i love, love love love love love love love it when a book focuses on its characters. there's nothing wrong with taking in the fantasy world they built for the people to live in, i'm all for that as well. it's just a trend i see that the more a book focuses on following its plot, the less it focuses on the people riding out that plot.

i'm a firm believer in characters "building a plot" based around their actions, even if that means an author built a plot and then designed the perfect character for enacting it.

also, i grew up a gacha kid (gacha studio/life/club). that means i'm familiar with cliches and love it when people throw them on their heel. it's also (unfortunately) made me enjoy love stories less (which makes things difficult since books that focus on characters almost always have some love plot that works out).

i'll read a hero x villain, sure. but sometimes i might think up the ending where they don't love each other (platonic and rival)

ask me any time about what i enjoy reading if i've confused you (it happens a lot).

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what i like writing:

this one's a lot simpler, i like writing what i like reading. because if i wouldn't read it later, why would anyone else?

due to me being cringe once upon a time, i spent several years writing out roleplays (yes, i was the edgy roblox kid too) with some friends, so anything super long i write for a very long time from now will be my personal adaptation of something that's already existed before

writing prompts are the truest test of my creative abilities, though. making up new characters, a new environment, and a new plot based on the whims of a few sentences from time to time is what keeps my rewrites from being copy-pastes.

that also just keeps it fun for the friends who wrote it with me once and will read it from my fingers typing it again

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also to note, i'm not afraid of writing about blood, gore, violence, and the like, and i'm also insensitive to what all needs to be tagged, so any help with that goes a long way

most of my writing prompts will be written with non-binary characters

if you find me fucking up pronouns please notify me where i diddled it up thank you!!

so about being a gacha kid

i suck at drawing. the physical descriptions of my characters are laid out in gacha apps, and yes i am mildly embarrassed about it. but putting their designs down somewhere means i have something reliable to refer to while writing.

thou shalt not judge me for it.

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hobbies

writing. i guess a bit obviously. i also still enjoy playing video games and listening to music. i like watching horror games, but can't bring myself to play them. i also make a lot of jokes about violence. i mean a lot. but i know when to take something seriously.

favorite roblox games including: entry point, scp: site roleplay, funky friday, robeats, 3008

i also play genshin impact occasionally, and no i'm not elaborating.

if you couldn't tell by now, i talk too much. moving on:

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masterlists

hey, me! i know you're reading this, because i know you're the most likely suspect for looking for these links all the time.

"Cinder" Masterlist writing prompts

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looking for more? ask me! send me prompts! FILL MY INBOX!!!

#writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writeblr #introduction #intro post #introductory post #writers #original characters #original stories #original fiction #novel writing #author #this was longer than intended #i'm gonna miss my cinder masterlist being pinned #i should probably think up a tag for that #ill probably do that later #why am i talking to myself in the tag list

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emiliosandozsequence · 2 years ago

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i stole this lol but it seemed fun so <3

What was your first ever story idea? What happened to it? it was a fantasy novel about an elf girl. i've never read a book where the main character is an elf, so i decided to write one myself. i did actually end up writing it; it was the first novel i ever wrote and i was 14 when i did it (still proud of that; it was 230 pgs in a word document btw). anyway, i ended up losing access to the manuscript, so rip, but i'm fully intending to rewrite it someday and make it a lot better than it was when i was writing it at 14.

What’s your writing routine? usually i'll put on music and just start writing whatever comes to mind for whatever scene i'm trying to write at the time. whenever i can't figure out what to do next, i'll go on tumblr and scroll for a bit until it comes to me. it's pretty effective, though my editor literally thinks i'm doing nothing all day bc of this even tho i Promise him i'm Working On It 😭😭😭

Are you a plotter, a pantser, or something in between? in between for sure. i plan things as i go. i start with an overall idea and then just...start writing and plan for the next chapters as they come to me. with the novel i'm currently writing, i've only planned up through chapter 8 and i'm currently writing chapter 4. i used to plan everything, but for some reason that made it so much harder for me to actually write the novels, so i don't do that anymore.

Do you try to tell moral stories throughout your work, or any other life lessons? What are they? there was a time where i did that, but the older i've gotten, the more i've realized a solid plot is a lot more important than telling any moral story. whether you like it or not, people are going to remember your book for the story you tell, not the reason you're telling it, and as a reader, i tend to go for stories with more solid plots than morals anyway.

What do you prefer, character development or worldbuilding? Why? both?? idk they both come very easily to me. to the point that there's been times where i think i haven't done enough of either and people have read my work and told me the opposite. i guess worldbuilding is more fun, but it's harder, which i think is probably why i like it more than character development bc that comes even easier to me than worldbuilding.

Do you have any tips for budding writers? i'll tell you exactly what my editor told me in the first class of his i took when i was 12: write like a shark. whatever you're writing, write it until it's done. go back and edit later. i've learned you can do a little bit of editing as you go once you've finished a few novels because then you know you can do it (speaking from experience; i've finished 7 and self-published 2 and am working on my 8th), but if you're new to writing and you haven't finished a book yet, don't do it. you will get caught up in it otherwise. especially if you have adhd (like i do).

Who inspires you to write the most? at the moment?? probably tamsyn muir. we have a shocking amount in common (our birthday's are literally a single day apart, though she's older than me by several years) and her books are exactly the kind of books i want to write. but also mary doria russell (duh) because we have very similar writing styles; ellen hopkins because she really was who really taught me (through me reading her books) how to write emotional stuff really well; brandon sanderson bc nothing is ever going to beat how i felt at the ending of the mistborn trilogy; and marie lu because her characters from the legend trilogy live in my mind rent free still and i can't help thinking of day every time i create a new boy.

tagging @thinking-in-broken-scenes @naysaltysalmon @the-lisechen and anyone else that wants to!! i just tagged people i know are also writers <3

#txt

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imhereforscm · 2 years ago

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Do you have any writing tips for new writers? Please i need them! 🙏

Idk if this will be helpful or not, 😅 but there's really not a single way to do something—to write for instance.

Writing is a self expression, where no one can control you. You're pouring out your soul onto a paper, a keyboard, whatever you use to write!

Basically, look around you and write about the things you see, the things you feel, what you hear, what you feel beneath your fingers, the scenes a song brings to you! Because no one sees something completely the same way as someone else. Everyone has their our personality and it's interesting to see everyone's point of view. Sure, you may have things in common with someone, but the differences is the source of the art and you don't even need to chase it. It's there. Natural and pure. Just embrace it.

Be natural. WHATEVER comes to your head, write it. Nothing is a bad idea and everything is worthwhile and meaningful to exist.

And you may read a person's work and feel inferior to them at times, it's normal. Everyone goes through that occasionally, there's absolutely NOTHING wrong with you! At those times you need to sit back and think that, this person is someone different from you. They have their own voice, their own metaphors, their own vocabulary, but that doesn't make them better than you at writing. You are also your own person, with your own eyes, ears, fingertips and voice too. Maybe your style is just different from theirs, but it's definitely NOT of lower quality!

Now how do you find that style? Through writing. Like I said, do not under any circumstances hold back from writing something your heart tells you to. You might not like it at first, that's okay. You can edit it, rewrite it, write something else and then come back and rewrite this one again. Practice makes perfect. And by perfect I don't mean a definition you can open a dictionary and read. Perfection is subjective. You'll reach perfection when you feel content with yourself. When you'll look down at your writing and think, "hey. I actually like this piece." NO, THAT'S NOT ARROGANT! YOU DESERVE TO LOVE YOURSELF AND WHAT YOU DO!

A quick repeat: Write. Whatever. Comes. To your mind. No one can stop you. It's you and your writing utensils. If you ever stop and think: "what will they think of this line?" "What will they think of this idea?" "What will they think of this metaphor?" I know it's harder to be done than said but... Stop. Don't think about the crowd! Think about you and your soul! Think: "Do I like this?" And not with the ideology of "does this reach the standards of this popular book/movie/anime/fanfiction?" But with the ideology of: "Have I reached my goal? Have I let my heart be completely honest in this piece or am I trying to fit a standard that stresses me out and scares me to write?"

Writing should be a magical experience, where you are completely free. Not something that should stress you in order to impress. Trust me PEOPLE WILL LIKE WHAT YOU DO. Sure, maybe some won't, but that's just how life works! Each person has their own preferences. But don't let a negative comment or anything of that sort make you believe no one likes your work! There might be 2 people who don't like your writing, but trust me. There'll be 4... 6... 50 who do like it!!

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foxgloveprincess · 2 years ago

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Cuddling at Home

Word Count: 650

Warnings: Barely Any Editing, Mildly Suggestive Themes (including Mild Daddy Kink), So Much Fluff (you might barf). Minors do not interact (18+).

Divider by @firefly-graphics.

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work, at all. I cross-post to my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess). Seeing this anywhere else means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age. Thank you.

“Don’t,” he begs, hooking his scissors on the wall by his work station and turning in his seat, “don’t do this to me.” His eyes are pleading, brow tilted in his efforts.

You hum a blithe tune and ignore him, continuing to bundle yourself in blankets and quilts in the corner with your stuffed animals. Nothing feels better on a winter morning than this. Even if he’s not going to join you and insists on working. The fire roars across the room, keeping the cottage cozy and warm, perfect. You take a peek over at him—just to see his reaction, not to tempt him, oh no, not that, maybe a little.

He sighs and hangs his head, glancing over with a playful glare. The way he rises from his chair, despite his show of annoyance, is graceful and swift, hurried as you wrap a blanket over your head like a hood and cover your mouth to hide the smile that wants to break free.

His groan as he approaches tickles your ears and you can’t help the responding giggle. It’s a pathetic sound, but full of his surrender. And completely fake. He’s loving every second of this flirty exchange, especially the parts where you respond—just like always.

“You’re too cute, baby,” he grumbles, close to a whine but far too teasing. He slumps to the floor in front of you, crawling closer and burying his face in your lap. “You know I can’t resist you when you’re being so adorable.”

“Sorry,” you giggle, running your fingers through his hair. “I can stop?”

He nuzzles closer. “Impossible,” he refutes with nip of his teeth to your thigh.

You chirp in startled amusement. Fingers tugging on his hair at your instinctual flinch. He pulls your hands away from his head and drapes one over his shoulders before sitting up and catching your eye with the stormy crystal of his.

“We need to get you warmed up,” he insists, feeling the frosty touch of your digits with his lips. He breathes warmth over them and you lean forward to rest your forehead to his. A twitch of a smile quirks at his lips before he starts to drag you closer to the fireplace, grabbing even more blankets along the way.

“I thought you needed to work,” you object with the slightest tinge of cheek. It’s good-natured, a concealment for the genuine concern. Your eyes flick to the half-finished hat sitting on his work table. Even as you follow along with his guidance and find your place beside him.

Settling you both by the fire to lean back on the couch, he pulls you into his arms and uses a finger to boop your nose. It scrunches in response before you find yourself the center of his attention.

“Needed to hold you more,” he replies with a shrug, tangling your legs together as they stretch out before you—making it near impossible for you to get away, not that you would want to.

Your hands cover your face at the cheesy line, spoken with such sincerity that your cheeks heat in response. Your lips press together, holding back the smile that threatens to expose your overwhelming joy. How he can just says things like that when the mood is so lighthearted—it always catches you off-guard, but you love it every time. Still, doesn’t mean he gets to know that.

“No,” Jefferson insists, pulling your hands from your face with his own and holding them away, “let Daddy see your pretty face.” His lips trail from cheek to cheek across your nose before he says, “There’s my pretty baby.”

You shove at his side with a pouty frown, barely able to move him or his arm over your shoulder. His chest shakes with a laugh, but he pulls you closer. A kiss lands on your forehead. You crack, smiling. How could you not?

#jefferson x reader #jefferson ouat x reader #mad hatter/jefferson x reader #jefferson ouat #ouat fanfiction #fluff #so much fluff #that’s all this is #an exploration of comfort

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reinerispretty · 4 years ago

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warm hands. (mako x f!reader) rewrite.

hello everyon!! a while ago i wrote a request called warm hands that got deleted by tumblr when i tried to edit the post on mobile :/ i’ve been on this hellsite for years and it still sucks but ANYWAY. as a thank you for supporting me and also as an apology for not updating lmao i wanted to repost a better version i wrote <3 much love to u and to mako

She turned to the man standing just a few feet away from her, surprised at how familiar his face had looked. His jet black hair, thick eyebrows, and golden eyes were from somewhere, but (Y/N) couldn’t place if she had dreamt about someone like him or had actually met him.

It would bug her the rest of the day if she didn’t say anything to him, so she had. “Excuse me,” She said, lightly touching his arm to get his attention. “Sorry to bother you, you just look really familiar to me.”

He had stared down at her silently, his brows furrowed, and in normal circumstances (Y/N) would have felt absolutely mortified...

There were dozens of libraries within Republic City, yet so far none of them had what (Y/N) was looking for. She had spent her entire day off trekking through the busy streets and bustling sidewalks, hailing cab after cab until her resources ran just low enough where she would have to be very picky about what groceries she picked this week. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck as she walked toward her destination. Summer was in full swing and it felt like the sun was after her specifically. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. So far, she had visited fifteen libraries, and was walking up the steps of the very last, hoping that someone inside would be able to help her with her request.

She passed through the double doors and was met with a rush of cold air that sent a chill down her spine. She must look ridiculous, she thought, as she approached the information desk. An old woman was positioned behind it, her back hunched over a book. She hadn’t heard (Y/N) approach, so the young girl rang the bell that set on the counter. The old woman jumped back, a startled expression on her lined face.

“I’m sorry!” (Y/N) exclaimed, then clasped a hand over her mouth. This was a library, she had to watch her volume in here. “Sorry,” She said again, her voice lower. “I was wondering if you could help me with something? I’ve been looking all over town for books on firebending and I can’t seem to find any.”

“We’ve got some!” The woman chirped, seeming to have recovered from her startle. She rose slowly to her feet and grabbed her cane. “Although they’re not technique books, if that’s what you’re looking for. My grandson has a great firebending academy just down the street if you’re interested.”

“Oh, no,” (Y/N) said as she followed the old woman through the enormous stacks of bookcases. “I don’t need any training, I’m just looking for a fact book or something like it.” The woman nodded and silently led (Y/N) to a very dimly lit section of the library. Just as (Y/N’s) feet began to ache from walking, they stopped, and the librarian pointed her cane up at the top shelf. It was out of her reach, but just within (Y/N’s).

“That’s the one you’re looking for,” She said, smiling pleasantly. (Y/N) looked up and found an enormous book, bound in red cloth with the Fire Nation emblem on the side. She reached up and took it into her arms, nearly toppling over at its sheer weight.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) strained herself to say. The librarian nodded once more before disappearing into the stacks of books. (Y/N) waddled herself over to a table in a more well-lit section of the library and sat down.

She had never cared much for bending. Being a nonbender herself in a nonbending family, she had watched indifferently as some of her classmates developed their bending skills. (Y/N) was always able to get through life without bending, so she had never thought of it as something important. Even probending, which rocked the city with its competitions, had never interested her.

(Y/N) sighed as she turned to the first page. To think, she was going to all of this trouble for a boy.

(Y/N’s) older brother had known Mako first, when they were just kids. Both worked for the Triple Threat Triads for a number of years. (Y/N) had remembered Mako as the serious (and slightly intimidating) friend of her brother’s that would stand outside waiting while her brother tried to convince her to cover for him. He might not have been a bender, but he was as strong as a platybus bear for a boy of fifteen, so the Triads made great use of him. (Y/N) had never liked it, but she always lied to their parents on his behalf. Sometimes, she had glared down at Mako from her bedroom window, and it seemed like some nights he frowned right back up at her.

This was all years ago, of course. Once her brother went off to join the United Forces, (Y/N) had forgotten all about Mako. It wasn’t until this past spring that she had seen him again. They had been waiting for their food outside of a soup shop. It had been the lunch hour, so (Y/N) had known they would take a while, but she didn’t mind, because she liked to people watch in order to keep herself occupied. She turned to the man standing just a few feet away from her, surprised at how familiar his face had looked. His jet black hair, thick eyebrows, and golden eyes were from somewhere, but (Y/N) couldn’t place if she had dreamt about someone like him or had actually met him.

He had stared down at her silently, his brows furrowed, and in normal circumstances (Y/N) would have felt absolutely mortified to be having this exchange with a total stranger, but something about him was different. She felt calm around him.

“I know you from somewhere, too,” The man said then, a small smile appearing on his face. “Did your brother used to work for-“

“The Triads!” (Y/N) finished, whispering the words excitedly because you couldn’t just shout the name of one of the leading gangs in Republic City in a crowd full of people. “You’re…Mako, right?”

“You must have a great memory, it’s been years since I’ve waited outside your house for your brother to come down.” (Y/N) laughed. “If I remember correctly, you used to give me the evil eyes from your bedroom window.” She smiled.

“That was me!” She extended her hand. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Same here,” Mako said, shaking her hand. “How’s your brother doing?”

“Very well, I think! He’s with the United Forces now, so I don’t hear much from him, but his last letter sounded very promising.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“How are you doing? I’ll have to write to him about you, I’m sure he’ll be so excited to hear it.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Joined the Republic City Police, so I guess I’m arresting the people I used to work with.” He shrugged.

“Beats getting arrested,” (Y/N) offered, and Mako cracked a smile.

“It sure does.” Her order was called from the counter, and (Y/N) scurried over to pick it up. When she returned, Mako had his own food in hand.

“Before you go,” (Y/N) started, and it was like the words would come out of her mouth before she had the chance to stop them. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me sometime? I’d love to give my brother a detailed description of what you’ve been up to.” She was never this bold, but it was like something else entirely had overcome her. He was handsome, and it was just a cup of coffee. Nothing too scary.

Mako had agreed to the cup of coffee that week and one cup had turned into three before turning into dinner. It had been nearly eight months since they met and the majority of their free time away from their jobs was spent together. Things were surprisingly easy with Mako. He was a fantastic listener and offered her the advice that she needed to hear. He had a bit of a rough shell on the outside, but (Y/N) worked tirelessly to break through it and revealed a man capable of so much love that she came to learn very few had ever actually given him it in return.

She was always completely lost when he talked about his probending days, but she enjoyed hearing him talk about his youth so much that it had set her on a course of research. (Y/N) was at the library today to better understand firebending. It was part of Mako, and she loved Mako (even if she hadn’t admitted it), so she would learn to love firebending as well.

She read for hours, until the sun had set outside and lanterns were lit within the space. (Y/N) looked up from her book, eyes heavy and dry from reading so many pages. She had only made it about halfway through the book, so she checked out the heavy title from the librarian at the front and made her way home. Mako would be working the night shift that night, so she didn’t have to worry about any interruptions.

---

Mako wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into his girlfriend. (Y/N) couldn’t bend. Not that there was anything wrong with that of course, Mako respected nonbenders just as much as benders (except for, y’know, the Amon thing), but lately (Y/N) had become a walking fountain of knowledge on firebending. At first he hadn’t thought anything of it, but as it continued on he started to sense that something was up.

The first time it had happened was on one of Mako’s days off. He had slept in late even though (Y/N) had promised to wake him up. With disheveled hair and his eyes squinting at the bright late morning light, he shuffled into the kitchen to give his girlfriend a very soft piece of his mind. She was scrambling eggs in front of the stove, turning to look back at him with a smile brighter than the sun. Mako allowed himself a smirk before his face turned stern.

“You were supposed to wake me up,” He had said, his voice gruff from having not been used. (Y/N) shrugged.

“I don’t think an earthquake could’ve woken you up,” She said in her defense. “Plus, you deserve extra sleep.” She had poked him in the stomach. “Firebenders can’t firebend if they’re exhausted.” Mako had chuckled. It sounded like the sort of thing mothers told their children in order to get them to go to bed.

But a few days later, she had mentioned something similar. They had been walking down the streets of Republic City, on their way to go visit Korra and Asami for lunch, when (Y/N) stopped suddenly in front of a store display. Mako jerked backward, unaware that she had paused.

“Do you know what that is?” She asked, looking up at him with an expression that indicated that she was testing him. Mako stared at the storefront.

“A clearance sign?” He questioned. (Y/N) had rolled her eyes.

“Not that,” She sighed, and pointed her finger at the tapestry that was hung in the back of the store. How she had spotted that from the corner of her eye, Mako had no idea, so he shrugged. “It’s the symbol of the Sun Warriors,” She explained. “They were the first firebenders, after the dragons, of course. They’re extinct now, I think.” (Y/N) smiled up at him while he raised an eyebrow at her. He cracked a smile before tugging at her hand.

“I’m about to go extinct if we don’t get some lunch.”

The biggest indicator by far had been the other night, when he was getting ready to leave for work. (Y/N) had sat on the bed as he stood in front of the mirror and buttoned up his uniform. He kept spares at (Y/N’s) place now, since he spent nearly every night there anyway.

She was looking at him with an expression he had never seen before. It was like she was analyzing him. Mako turned around as he finished the last button, but before he could speak, she beat him to it.

“How do you do it?” She asked, and Mako furrowed his dark brows.

“Do what?”

“Bending.” She looked into his eyes at this point and Mako had felt his heart swell. He had a hard time transmitting the emotions that he was feeling inside to his appearance outside. If he could, he would have melted into a puddle on the floor for this girl. In a matter of a few months she had become something to aim toward, to strive for. Catching criminals and solving cases mattered to him, but not nearly as much as returning to her apartment in one piece.

He cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t understand it, you know? How does it happen? Do you just think about it and it happens? Or do you have to focus?”

“A bit of both, I guess,” Mako said. “When you’re first learning, it takes a lot of focus to master a new move. But once you’ve got it, it kind of becomes second nature.” He sat on the bed beside her to put on his work boots. “It’s like writing something. When you were little, you had to think about how to hold the pen, how to form the letters, what the letters meant. Now you just know.”

“Do you have to think about using lightning rather than fire?” Mako shook his head.

“It’s different movements.” She hummed, staring down at her hands as she contemplated what he just told her. Mako checked his watch for the time. “I’ve got to head out.”

“Okay,” She said as she turned toward him. “Be safe! And don’t forget to invite Bolin over for dinner this weekend.”

Mako let out an exaggerated sigh, at which (Y/N) frowned. “I’m serious Mako,” She continued. “I’ll call Bolin myself to make sure you ask him!”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Mako asked as he packed his badge and wallet.

“It’ll mean more if it’s coming from his big brother.” Mako leaned down and cradled the back of her neck with his hand, leaning for a kiss to which she happily obliged. Mako had many favorite things about (Y/N), but perhaps his most favorite was how she smiled into every kiss he gave her.

“I’ll be sure to let him know,” Mako had said as he ran out of her apartment. If he was late again, Chief Beifong would kill him.

Mako contemplated these instances as he walked back to her apartment. (Y/N) had never expressed very much interest in bending, pardoning recent weeks. He wondered what had gotten her so curious. Perhaps she listened to a new radio show that talked about it. Mako never really listened to the radio anymore—he used to, but Bolin talked over all of the stations so he just turned it off whenever he was in the car.

He hadn’t told her that he would be coming back to her place tonight. He hadn’t entirely been planning on it, but one of the rookies was somehow put in charge of the schedule and put Mako and a kid named Lee on the same shift. Considering Mako had the seniority, he had gotten the night off, but not before completing the copious amounts of paperwork that had piled on his desk. It was nearing one in the morning, so (Y/N) would be fast asleep, but he figured she would enjoy seeing him again. Or at least, he hoped so.

To improve his chances of not facing the wrath of disturbing her slumber, Mako stopped by a late night dessert shop and picked up some of her favorites before returning on his way. When he finally opened the door to her apartment, Mako was unsurprised to find that every light was off, save for the light that peaked underneath her bedroom door.

Mako took his shoes off at the front and dropped the desserts on the kitchen counter before quietly making his way to her bedroom. (Y/N) lay curled up underneath her covers, fast asleep, with the biggest book Mako had ever seen lying beside her. He lifted the heavy book into his arms and thumbed through the pages. Each and every chapter was about firebending. Its origins, its practices, and its faults. Mako smiled to himself. So that’s how she had become a walking encyclopedia.

He changed into his pajamas and slid into bed beside her. Startled, she opened her tired eyes and furrowed her brows at him. “Chief let me go early,” He whispered to her, reaching over her body to turn off her lamp. “Go back to sleep.”

Instead she moved closer to his body and took his hands in hers. “I was reading,” She whispered slowly, as if her brain was cranking back to life. “That firebenders can control the heat in their bodies.” She placed his hands just below her bellybutton. “My cramps are really bad tonight, can you—”

Mako pulled her into his body and kissed her shoulder, spreading his hand wide so that it would cover as much surface area as possible. She hummed as she felt the warmth emanating from his hands. “Thank you.” After a few minutes, her even breathes indicated that she was asleep.

Mako wondered then if he had been the reason that (Y/N) had a newfound fascination with firebending. While he was a great detective, he was absolutely clueless. She had gotten a whole book about firebending, had shared her knowledge to let him know that she cared about something that she had never cared about before. Mako pressed his face into the crook of his neck to hide the wide smile that no one would see.

(Y/N) wanted to know more about firebending because it was part of who he was. No one had ever taken such an interest in Mako’s passions. He had figured before, but was now certain, that he loved the girl in his arms so, so dearly.

---

TAG LIST

@beifongsss , @aroyaldarknessblr , @musicalkeys , @thefandomimagines , @blondie0458 , @kairiririri , @awesomelupe , @zukosvice , @tomshollandz , @lavendercrystals , @astralsaf , @realimbo , @mycollectionofnuts , @wingeddemonclub , @gingersnap126126 , @aangsupremacy , @marvel-ing-at-it-all , @davnwillcome , @someoneovertherainboww , @sokkashonour , @breadqueen95 , @buttholland , @noodlesfluffy , @busyforkuvira , @error-loading-sorry , @bombardia , @la3divine , @just-a-teal-android , @theeavtrkyoshi , @brokennerdalert , @sukifans , @sunflower-mami ,

#mako x reader #lok #legend of korra #korra x reader #asami x reader #bolin x reader #bolin #mako #korra #asami #writing #fanfiction

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lilydalexf · 4 years ago

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with tatooedlaura (Laura Sprys)

Laura has 28 fics at Gossamer, but the big treasure trove of her stories is at AO3, where she has 193 fics. Thank goodness for the richness of the X-Files and for talented, creative people like Laura who can find so many interesting ways to tell tales in the show’s universe. Big thanks to Laura for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Maybe reading mine but reading older fic in general is something I still do and something I still find entertaining. I do wish i could get into my old fics and post a warning that some of those were written before the author: ever had a drink, ever had sex, ever had a boyfriend, ever lived on her own, ever had a real job, or ever experienced much of anything in the real world.

Then again, fanfic is a perfect time capsule for the age and it’s always fun to see where the originals started and how they’ve grown.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

Back in the day and up and through today, it has always been a fun experience. From it, I’ve learned to love writing. I’ve learned that fans are crazy, weird, wonderful, generous, talented, committed, passionate, and imaginative. In a fandom, you can think whatever you wish and write about anything you like and because I’ve been around so long, I’ve gotten to watch the storylines shift and the relationships change ...

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Originally, I never had much interaction with people other than ones who sent emails commenting on my fanfic … the internet at my parents house was dial-up and I had to access through the AOL free disks that arrived in the mail so, for the most part, I didn’t have the bandwidth or the connection speed to do more than upload stories and download episode guides.

Good lord, I remember submitting a story and having to wait upwards of two days to two weeks before the new batch of stories was posted ... then ephemeral came around and you could actually have your story up in under a day ... all ya'll who started on tumblr and ao3, you have it great, let me tell you :)

One thing that stands out in my mind still (and I’m still friends with her on Facebook) was a woman from western Canada who I stumbled across somewhere while looking for the blooper reels. She offered to send me her copies on VHS for my collection. I don’t think she asked for payment and one day, a package arrived from a lovely woman near Lethbridge, bloopers playable, tapes labeled in clear printing. I still appreciate that 20 some odd years later :)

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Fandoms are crazy places. Tread lightly at first but enjoy what you want, ignore what you don’t, rewrite what you hate, and write what you love. Don’t be an asshole when you don’t agree with someone … when you do, tell them …

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I was on board from the first episode. It was a show about two people who you felt were destined to be together but weren’t, and wouldn’t be for years. It was a cop show about aliens and a monster show with cops. I was in the right place at the right time in the right frame of mind and there was just something that clicked and I never looked back. Friends were not allowed to call me on Friday night and once it switched to Sunday, I made sure that my parents got us on early evening bowling league so we’d be home in time to watch. Even my boyfriend (eventual husband) knew to shut the hell up from 9-10pm, even if he was sitting next to me on the couch (with my parents in their chairs watching as well)

Also, my 56-year-old dad had a crush on Scully from the start so that was entertaining as hell as well

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I have been writing stories in my head for literally as long as I can remember. Watching some episode, I honestly don’t remember which one, I suddenly had an idea for a story about Mulder and Scully. I had never written a story with pre-existing characters before and it was totally foreign to me. How do you write a character with a current storyline. It was weird, it was difficult, it was some of the most fun I’d had writing up to that point.

Suddenly, I didn’t have to explain or describe the characters, think of jobs and mundane things … they already had those … and it was great.

Honest-to-God, my first fic was written, in pencil, on a yellow legal pad by flashlight while lying with my head at the foot of my bed so I could see my parents coming down the hall if they happened to wake up at midnight to go to the bathroom. Later fics were written by the light of an 10” TV/VCR combo with me still lying with my head at the foot of the bed. I still have those old legal pads somewhere and I remember having to type them in secret, having to wait until the house was empty for 20 minutes to an hour at a time. Uploading them was always unnerving because of the slow dial-up and the fact that I didn’t have my own email address, but had to use my dad’s. I’d have to make sure to check it whenever I could, intercept the feedback I’d get off gossamer.

I was such a damn rebel.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Well, I now know how to interact with people given tumblr and AO3 but it hasn’t changed much. I contribute a little more now that I understand posting on social media but mostly, I still just write like a fiend and post, read voraciously and give kudos and likes often, comment some and reblog.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I dabbled and have a favorite ‘Fringe’ fic … I tried to read a Harry Potter fic once … I type ‘West Wing’ occasionally in ao3 and tumblr ...

And nothing, absolutely nothing, has ever caught me like the X-Files did in regards to the fandom experience.

I have shows I watch and re-watch and re-watch but no two characters have ever had me writing and thinking and planning like Mulder and Scully. No other combo has ever made me write upwards of 300,000 or more total and still have plenty of stories to tell.

I’m okay with this.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Aside from Mulder and Scully and the gentlemen three of Frohike, Langley, and Byers … I love all Scully’s nieces and nephews in my ‘Life’ series … I also love Corduroy (picture books), Harold (purple crayon fame), Neville Longbottom, the characters from my own novels, Katniss (book not movie), Anne Shirley, Elnora (from the Limberlost), Will Stanton/Merriman/Barney/Jane from ‘Dark is Rising’ and 10,459 others …

I’m a children’s librarian so most of my favorite books are those written for the younger and YA crowd. I like my job :)

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I watch this show all the damn time. I will think about Mulder and Scully when I have nothing else to think about, normally writing and editing whatever story I may have in the hopper at the time about them.

My husband laughs when I have the show on. He knows all the episodes with me and it’s one of my comfort shows that I don’t have to pay attention to when it’s on. During it, I have edited books, decorated cookies, been sick, been recovering, simply wasted a perfectly good day because I could.

My 17-year-old daughter keeps it on while she does homework and works out.

It’s a staple at our house and no one is allowed to make fun of it, even though we all know that parts are completely ‘make fun-able’

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I read fic all the time … I have worked my way through AO3 starting from the beginning and if it was more easily readable on a phone, I’d work my way, once again, through gossamer.

Restated from above: I dabbled and have a favorite ‘Fringe’ fic … I tried to read a Harry Potter fic once … I type ‘West Wing’ occasionally in ao3 and tumblr ...

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I have all kinds of favorites on tumblr but right now, I honestly don’t remember most of the names … I pretty much read everything that comes through my dashboard and every few days, i read through the newest posts on AO3 … I love you all!!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Of X-Files fics, I love my newer stuff … I read “Life” and its sequels every few months … ‘Your Place or Mine’ is another one I will read … actually, I’ll just say it .... I read all my own fic over and over again …

With fic, you get to write the characters as you want to see them and write situations that you want to see … I write for myself most of all and I love to read what I wrote :)

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I write them all the damn time. I have tons of snippets and half-finished that I occasionally glean things from but while sometimes, old stuff morphs into new, sometimes, it just needs to gather that dust and live a quiet little forgotten life in some backhand folder on my dropbox account ...

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

First question is answered above.

As for other creative work, I have published two YA novels, have the third in that series in editing … I have five other novels in the hopper in various stages of ‘good lord this needs an edit or twelve’ …

I am writing things constantly in my head or on my laptop … most is crap … stome sticks … some turns into fic and some turns into books …

But the point is, I am writing, in some form, at all time :)

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Some two sentence conversation will spark an idea … the line of a song will inspire an idea … a word will start a sentence which will turn into a paragraph which will tumble straight into a story … and sometimes, stuff just pops in my head for no damn reason at all ...

What's the story behind your pen name?

On gossamer, I am L. Sprys because that was my name at the time :)

On tumblr and AO3, I’m tatooedlaura because my name is Laura and I have, now, six tattoos (yes, I spelled it wrong in my handle but that’s life) … when I decided on the name, I think I only had two

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

They do now … it took me years to crack and tell them … my husband has never read them, nor have any of the people I have told (as far as I know)

Now, I don’t really care who knows … I’ll tell them I write smutty X-Files fanfiction and family-friendly X-Files fanfiction …

I am too old at this point to be embarrassed by what I like to do. If they laugh at me, I tell them they only get to laugh when they’ve published a book and I pull up my books on Amazon … I’ve only had to do that once and it shut them right the hell up …

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Gossamer: L. Sprys

Tumblr and AO3: tatooedlaura

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I love you! I see you! I appreciate you! I hope you enjoy! Don’t judge me for my grammar issues! I will never be able to spell the word ‘excersize’!

(Posted by Lilydale on April 27, 2021)

#old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #tatooedlaura #laura sprys

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bisexualoftheblade-old · 4 years ago

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how many wips do you have? like what are they all, and not the number of wips in a fandom? what are all the names?

okay. fuck you. fuck you so much. fuck you.

i’m putting this under a read more cut no one else deserves to see this shit. a lot of these are requests, and for those i will just write out the request itself

Shadowhunters:

domestic polycule fluff with tem, jessa, and will because im not a coward

Supernatural

- hehe hoho i request destiel hehehe

- request 61/? cai cai cai cai i need you to rewrite the destiel scene but yk. GOOD. not like i'm in the know about the spn fandom or anything, it's been years for me. but DO IT

Bright Sessions

- caleb/adam grisha AU

- mark bryant vs. united states aka sue the AM

- caleb/adam college fluff

Umbrella Acaademy

- request 31/? i want a ben and klaus drabble please spare me some brotherly bickering

- AND SO BEGINS NIGHT 4 with request 13/? oooh oooh can i get a raymond and allison playlist??? i think their vibes together would SLAP

- hi there night 2 is technically morning 3 but who's counting not me anyway request 5/? can i get a ben moodboard? gotta rep my tua bb

Percy Jackson

- request 9/? can i get a percabeth moodboard or quote edit?? like god they're the og couple goals take me back to high school cai

- For the 100 follower things :D Jercy getting caught in the rain

- request 29/? a drabble about literally anything to do with pjo. i’ll be happy with anyone and anything i’m love these children

- *somersaults in like I’m a real fancy acrobat* hello ello ello may I request some camp half blood chaos possible involving *does a flip* ✨side characters✨ <3

Penumbra Podcast

- request 52/? drabble about the penumbra podcast. this is for ren bc ren likes it and i don't actually know anything about it. juno? i think? that's the one ren likes. write it for ren

- Tpp ghost hunting / buzzfeed unsolved au

- sad juno smut

- final resting place fic go brrrr

Marvel

- request 6/? i'm going to my roots y'all can i get a spider-man playlist? if not a playlist then i'd honestly be happy with literally anything involving spider-man

- request 15/? i'm going crazy this is recorded evidence of me actually losing it ANYWAY can i get a quote edit for something from iron man? literally anything that man says is gold so cai's choice :D he deserved better in endgame i'm still bitter

- request 42/? do another spidey thing that differs from the other spidey thing

- request 73/? you have Opinions. rant about infinity way and/or endgame. go.

- request 74/? quote edit for deadpool!!

- spideytorch relationship character study

- peter parker as a tired grad student monitoring the young avengers (send help)

Six of Crows

- okay listen i wasn't going to request anything bc i worry about you but also? if you want to/have the time hit me with a playlist for our girl nina zenik

- request 43/? fuckin give me the ending anya should have had. she is alive and with her new son and having a great time

- request 45/? inej moodboard?

- request 47/? will you make literally any meme of your choosing for six of crows?

- request 48/? write a drabble for kaz, my favorite bastard

- okay so i don't actually like nina or mattias that much but i still wanna hear about your thoughts (and also see if you'll change my mind)

- kaz brekker turning 18 fic. birthday party, everyone singing, whole shebang. i need it stat

- religious trauma fic aka i started shipping kaz/alina/inej and i can’t stop

- kaz trauma soup (he has D.I.D. and you can’t prove me wrong)

- my two redacted fics for @grishaversebigbang

- wesper fake dating

- six of crows bright sessions crossover: everyone gets therapy

TMA

- uhh... s1 gang having a nice time? melanie getting to have some Pride™️? some "fun" horror thing?

- request 7/? spare steph and jason bonding? please sir? spare some for a humble child such as myself?

- okay so this was meant for night 3 but i had midterm shit SO this is honorary night 3 let's DO THIS request 8/? i want a moodboard of extremely out of context magnus archives shit like i mean confuse the FUCK out of me i don't go here i know Nothing about it

- request 11/? OKAY so i need tim stoker meeting tim drake now i need my timmy to meet your tim plus i want to see character differences no i'm not trying to create a tim stoker in my head so i can read a's fic while NOT thinking of tim drake whaaaaaat you're crazy

- request 18(i think)/? i need a quote edit of every time within the first like. 15 eps of tam where jon is like “sounds fake but go off” thank u bb

- request 40/? i challenge you to write a tma drabble based only on the episodes i've heard. i'm currently halfway through episode 23

- Jon being lovingly bullied into taking a break. I'm aware this has been written a million times but it is one of my favorite things.

- spiral!sasha AU

- extinction martin go brrrrr

- high school era timsasha. they've both been friends for years, and everyone always asks when they will be a couple. they decide to fake date, to prove everyone wrong and show what a bad couple they would be. turns out that's a bit trickier than they thought

- after sasha comes back, tim is broken. he can't let go, scared that if he looks away for even a minute he'll lose her again. sasha suggests shibari as a way for him to give up control

- sasha pov mag 19 au, sacrificing herself to save the others, knows that if she gives herself up to the not!them it will let the others live

- this is the "tim finds a polaroid of sasha" trope

- early archives days,, long nights in research,,, clothes sharing,, somft. late nights and falling asleep at their desks warm and safe in the other's presence

- two parts: timsasha as kids, each picking a constellation that is "theirs". just soft kid antics. tim at sasha's grave glancing up to see their constellations

- continuing your job’s a joke (you’re broke)

DC Comics

- TIMSTEPH HADESTOWN AU,,,

- my redacted fic for @batfam-big-bang

- request for you to get a decent amount of sleep? serious answer, dickkori, SAL's Venus

- request 4/? timsteph morning after 👀 mayhaps?

- a concept: nonbinary stephanie brown

- teehee hi mom, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but can i request damian angst for your accomplishments 100 followers?

- hi you can ignore my first request if you want, or you can ignore this one. but bls possibly write some bikini ra’s? -the bikini bitch

- request 27/? jay is asking through me for a jondami playlist but tbh i also want it so win win yk?

- "I don't know how to help you but I can help you find someone who does" with bruce and jason? im just craving bruce being a good day to jason for once

- “I am putting you in time out because you need to understand the consequences of your actions.” with steph and jason as dumbass disaster bi best friends pretty please?

- request 32/? timsteph patrol date!!!

- request 33/? timsteph *gala* date? mayhaps??

- request 37/? tim drake drabble but make it Edgy cai

- request 39/? drabble of a prank war between tim and damian

- joyfire cuddly fluff please? or like just any outlaw fluff if joyfire isnt your thing (feel free to add every member of the outlaws, dont feel like u gotta stick with jason, kori, roy i love them all)

- barbara and robin! jason fluff? bonding over books or something?

- request 62/? i need a drabble about the chaotic trio jason, tim, and steph i'm love them ty

- request 63/? batfam x mcu crossover. batfam meets ironfam. give me ALL the cliches. ALL OF THEM

- request 64/? young justice x young avengers - jay cuz idk SHIT about the young avengers

- request 66/? jondami moodboard pls and ty

- request 67/? timsteph moodboard!!!!!!

- request 69/? HEHEHE kinky 😏 i would v much like a timsteph drabble of the almost first time. does that make sense? like i don't want you to go all the way NSFW cuz i know that's against the rules and i'm a rule follower. but like they *almost* go all the way. this could be fade to black or some shit i don't care just make it a lil steamy and have Fun

- i request damian angst! all of it

- hmm... maybe i request? jondami?

- mayhaps,,,,some batfam,,,,,committing crimes? ily be gay do crime <3 - lu

- How about a ficlet with Steph and Cass?

Found Family Bingo Prompts

- no powers au

- tunnel

- first day

- join the club

- hurt/comfort

- experiment

- playing favorites

- hold on

- possession

- 10 o’clock

- singing

- road

- snitch

- curfew

- timer

- fantasy au

- zombie au

- dreams

- campfire

- are you okay

- movie night

- games

- scared

Miscellaneous

- a request: Write A Drabble, Coward

- is it too late to request a moodboard for me?

- request 20/? i’m going off book because i’m in a Chaotic Mood™️ can you just absolutely vibe check me like go off cai demolish me

- request 21/? i formally request that you pick a favorite cai. i don’t care what that favorite pertains to, just pick a favorite something

- request 23/? roast me

- request 24/? can i have a buzzfeed unsolved spoopy playlist but spoiler alert it’s not spoopy bc shane doesn’t believe does this make sense it has been a Day™️

- request 25/50 i want a jake and amy fic make it Soft cai i’m love them b99 is so good

- request 28/? i know nothing about the lord of the rings so make something that will confuse the shit out of me

- request 34/? malvie and jaylos moodboards 😈

- request 35/? a moodboard for the bbb mods!! perceive all of us!!!

- request 36/? moodboard for the tua mods too???? mayhaps??

- request 41/? doctor WHO? idk but i want a drabble of him and the one character i know from doctor who which is rose

- request 46/? make an alignment meme with our group, have fun!!!

- request 49/? i want you to kin assign me a character from every fandom you can/want to. go feral

- request 50!!!!/? this is a special request. the most special request. can you make a bastards tbh playlist? i want our vibes encapsulated. i want us in music form. i want to hear those songs and be like "that's me and cai" and smile.

- requests 51/? i know jack shit about good omens. explain it to me in the most confusing way possible. make me know less by the end than i know now

- request 53/? can you write a mel aesthetic? i'm Curious

- request 54/? give me a list of book recs cai i want some good book recs pls

- request 56/? edit a picture of US together too

- request 58/? oooh can i have a disney edit? like. hm. i just really love disney and i want anything to do with disney. like a quote or an aesthetic or an aesthetic edit i just want disney.

- request 59/? i would v much like a recipe for carbonara. i've never had it but it sounds fucking delicious

- request 60/? ooh hey can i get a makeup tutorial? i know you like makeup, i'm shit at doing makeup. teach me

- request 65/? i need the most emo playlist you can make that vibes with dear evan hansen thank you

- request 68/? i want a superwholock moodboard. this can be serious, with the actual fandoms in mind, or literally what the era felt like. the insanity. the horror.

- request 70/? ooh ooh ooh do you have a good bread recipe?? i wanna get that bread

- request 71/? i want a playlist with the vibes of summoning a demon. please don't ask questions. i don't have answers. and if i do, no i don't.

- For the requests, how about writing something based on a friend?

- request 75/? MMMM i want literally anything to do with natasha, pierre, and the great comet of 1812

- request 76/? i want some healthy recipes. help a girl out

- a feral bbb quote or two?

- you perceive my plant but now I dare thee to perceive mine own visage

- okay this is a two for one request. 1. you did the bee movie script so now we need a shrek two script edit 2. sleep please

- Pansexual mb for my lil queer soul?

- my (probably) final request is just for you to ramble about something, i don't really care what

- HI ILY CONGRATS AS WELL CAUSE IM LATE BUT CONGRATS. could i request a pirates of the caribbean (or just pirates) or whatever you what to do, free range.

- mood board for the beluga whales who got brought to the animal sanctuary in Iceland please?

- 100 follower request: Moodboard for my stuffed cow Oaky?

#cai's 200 #asks #mininacl

21 notes · View notes

vegalocity · 4 years ago

Note

Since you said you're gonna rewrite Min Yi's story, think you can share what your original idea for it before the finally? - Pixel Anon

So the reason i had to drop this storyline was mostly because i straight up didn't expect Season 2 to completely DEMOLISH the status quo quite like that. which goes to show that i underestimated this writing lol

Here i was assuming this show was doing a sort of 'building a rogues gallery' thing but they were telling a proper epic just in a mostly episodic format.

so like, y'all ever read those 'child detective' chapter books? the ones where the kids take on mysteries that are generally inconsequential or low stakes and they get their 'business' mostly through the fact that the mysteries in question are usually too small for the police to want to bother with?

That was how i planned Minyi's story to start off. That since her end goal was finding her daddy she needed to get really good at finding lost things first. She would generally use these mysteries and the more 'overt' ways of looking for her dad (missing flyers hung up on light poles with stickers because auntie won't let her use the stapler) to memorize the layout of streets she was previously unfamiliar with, learning to track to find someone's missing pet rabbit (Rest in peace Mr. Fluffers) learning to network from a kid who claimed his limited edition trading cards were stolen (Teacher confiscated them without telling)

eventually she 'interviews' a coworker who told her that her papa was going to be looking over the upgrades to the power grid below the city before he disappeared, but that's grownup work lil one the police have already looked down there.

Well clearly the police haven't looked hard enough!

So she uses arts and crafts to her advantage. Makes some slime with glow in the dark glue and fills a bag of water balloons with it to mark off her turns so she doesn't get lost.

She only gets one trip in before the city underground leaves her with nightmares and she can't go in there alone again. But she HAS to, because her daddy is lost down there and he NEEDS HER TO FIND HIM!

Cue a small child walking into Pigsy's Noodles with a coin purse full of all the yuan she could find and dumping them onto the counter like 'Yes hello i am a very grownup young lady and I would like one bowl of noodles please ò__ó' and then proceeds to eat said bowl as slowly as possible. Clearly waiting for something.

MK comes in back from a delivery and she instantly is up and running over with the rest of the money in her lil coin purse like 'Are you the Monkie Kid? I need your help! I can pay! I need you to escort me through the underground so i can find my missing daddy! ò__ó'

MK is very quick to assure her he'll do it for free of course and then there's schenanigans probably not spider-related, Minyi probably getting them out of some pinch with one of her lil baby macguyver tools (slime balloons it would have been the slime balloons)

They end with MK asking for one of her missing flyers and assuring her that if he sees anything she'll be the first person he calls. (of course he doesn't recognize the lost person on the missing flyer looks familiar until his next run in with the spider clan for that drawn out aspect) And it's like one of those 'contextualizing the antagonist' things, think like, how in Adventure Time, Finn started reaching out to Ice King when he found out about his past as Simon Petrikov. Suddenly Syntax is more than just the Nerd Spider, he had a life he was taken from, and yet worse, a child out there missing him, so naturally MK's gonna wanna do something about that.

So next encounter with Syntax happens, MK's got him on the ropes, but now he knows whats going on. So he tries to get a bit of info out of him, just to see what was going on, and Syntax his poor brain fucked up by spider venom of course denies even the idea of having kids, and in fact states he has no concrete memories of ever a time before being 'taken in' by the Spider Queen.

And then this is a thing i wanted to do that was a homage to a sci fi thriller from like 2003 i'm fond of (it's called 'The Forgotten') where MK basically goes all 'Look, I'll let you take off and this will be a stalemate if you do one thing' His price being 'Just Say her name. It's Minyi.'

So he does

and nothing happens. No flashbulb, no sudden fit as his body starts trying to reject the spider venom flowing through him again, no reaction at all. So MK lets him go, and pretty easily decides not to tell Minyi about her dad.

And, once out of the area, Syntax finds himself wondering just what the Monkie Boy was expecting to happen. Just saying a child's name? What kind of test was that? He must have had him confused with someone else.

But he is a scientist, and maybe he's a little curious about it himself, so maybe he tries again, this time alone.

And this time, without any extra eyes on him, without that instinctual performative blockade that had been keeping him alive around the others-

This time it hits him.

It hits him like a fucking semi truck

Eventually Minyi does find her way to the lair or at least near enough she sets off a proximity alert or two, but right when i was considering how that would play out canon knocked on my door and kicked my teeth in so there ya go

#Letters To Vega #Vega's Ocs #Vega writes stories too #I'm not sure where i'm gonna take the story atm #I'm half a mind on 'Actually theorizing about what the city will be like now that LBD's causing a ruckuss'#and half a mind 'Nah lets just ignore that and do cute slice of life domestic shit'#I mean i really like the 'child detective' Angle bc i loved those child detective books as a kid #but idk how to handle it in EITHER Setup rn #vega draws #Pixel anon #LMK #Monkie Kid #lmk Syntax #OC: Minyi

17 notes · View notes

marble-guts · 4 years ago

Note

Ahsoka and Padmé bonding for your prompts

hi, anon, I don’t even know if you’ll see this because it took me months to write this. but i hope that you do see it and i hope that you enjoy it because this was a lot of fun to write.

read on ao3

The realization that her husband was trying to keep his padawan a secret brought tears of laughter to Padmé’s eyes.

Few people were worse with secrets than Anakin Skywalker.

Their marriage had been one of those secrets that Padmé had worked far harder to keep. Anakin had been a stranger to secrecy until their marriage.

It had taken nights of creativity and bottles of wine, along with years of practice to develop a code. Small smiles only seen in the eyes had become soft caresses, real smiles were a whispered ‘I love you’. When he called her ‘Senator’, in that mock serious tone of his, Padmé couldn’t help but feel as though he had lifted her off of her feet. She hoped that he felt the same when she called him ‘Jedi Knight Skywalker.’

The code wasn’t established to be covert, but created with just enough of a gap where they could excuse their behavior as close friendship. Many senators had connections to the Jedi, their true feelings were just as masked as Padmé’s marriage. She supposed it was a superpower, being able to see through others’ facades, recognizing similar coded languages. When Satine blinked long and slow, it didn’t take long for Obi-Wan to leave the room, and moments later for her to excuse herself.

Anakin’s attempts at secrecy were nowhere near as well constructed without her help. Padmé had seen the girl in the holo transmission from Jabba’s Palace on Tatooine. Anakin had done nothing to hide her, he had been too awestruck by Padmé’s intervention into Jedi affairs to care, calling her ‘Senator Amidala’ and thanking her graciously for her actions.

She had panicked, however, and ended the transmission curtly, forgetting to give Anakin a goodbye.

It had only made things worse when Anakin missed several of their scheduled calls. She hadn’t received word from him, and the HoloNet News had gone silent about the movements of the Open Circle Fleet as well.

Padmé had busied herself with news articles, looking for any trickling of an update on the Outer Rim. There was no news of any of them, not Anakin, Obi-Wan, or this Togruta girl. The questions that had first arisen in her mind upon seeing Anakin’s padawan, other than how she came to be his, were quickly pushed down with questions of their general safety.

The Senate was usually kept quiet about current operations, especially when they were far from the Core worlds. It was a matter of security, being able to keep intelligence out of the hands of spies and revolutionaries. The HoloNews satisfied its readers with puff pieces about the newest worthwhile restaurants on Coruscant and reader polls about the hottest Jedi (in which her husband made the top three).

It had become a small distraction, one that kept her from biting her nails off of her fingertips. It hadn’t taken long for other distractions to take over her mind as well. Padmé had welcomed it, allowing her feelings of nostalgia to take over.

Thoughts about the Togruta girl had changed too. Along with worry about the girl’s safety, Padmé worried if she was old enough to be a Padawan, if she was okay seeing the war up close as a teenager. She thought of how it had changed Anakin’s relationship with Obi-Wan, how having Anakin at his side had matured Obi-Wan and brought out another side of him.

The HoloNews talked about Anakin and Obi-Wan as though they were the same force, the same weapon utilized by the Republic. Padmé walked past the posters every time she snuck into the lower levels, smothering her laughter behind her sleeve as Anakin’s silhouette told her to support the GAR.

She wondered how long it would take for the HoloNews to put Anakin’s padawan in the spotlight. The girl would wake up one day and find her face on a poster decorating every free wall of Coruscant’s underworld, her name in headlines with various senators, and photos of her at dinner with friends accompanied with rumors of affairs and other unsavory behavior.

The girl’s absence in the news was a blessing in disguise, Padmé decided, no matter how badly it worried her.

She put her energy into work again. The Senate had been in gridlock over additional proposals to the Republic’s budget. It had left little money to cover refugee relief, but she had assured Bail and others that any additional support was necessary. In return, they had promised their votes and efforts to garner more.

Nights were quickly filled with banquets, attendance to performances, dinners, and dramatic readings quickly followed up with discussions of politics and semantics. Her evenings were spent with Bail fighting over her word choice and falling asleep on the couch in her den, datapad dead by morning.

Democracy was a whirlwind, exhausting and chaotic, but one that Padmé enjoyed wholeheartedly.

The Senate session came to a quick close as the Chancellor adjourned their unsuccessful meeting. He turned back and headed towards the doors that led to his office, a small gaggle of senators followed behind, as well as reporters, hoping for a headline.

Padmé shook her head, the bill up for discussion, still in her hand. She felt Bail’s hand come down onto her shoulder and give her a squeeze.

“I’m sure, if we just edit the beginning again, perhaps to rephrase it less about refugees, and more about… possible immigration to Coruscant, or something else more personal, they’ll change their minds,” Bail said with a heavy sigh.

Padmé took a deep breath to release her disappointment. “I know you’re right, but I don’t want to have to beg for basic empathy.”

“Such is the nature of politics,” Bail said with a small laugh. “If you’re not begging them for something, you’re not paying attention.”

She smiled a little, straightening. “I suppose that’s true as well.”

“I’ll contact your office in the morning, perhaps we can rewrite that preamble before the expansion bill moves forward,” the soft weight of his hand left her shoulder, “we did good work today, Padmé.” He turned to leave, joining the fray of senators as they all exited through the halls of the Senate Rotunda.

“We did, thank you, Bail.”

She turned back to gather her things, the other datapad she had brought with her to take notes, the simple coat she had worn in against the brisk morning chill.

“Oh, Padmé,” Bail said, nearly startling her.

She looked up from her belongings to find him there, still there near her repulsorpod, trapped against the movement of senators exiting the Chambers.

“I believe there’s someone here for you.”

Padmé moved to stand beside him, hoping to find this someone. Captain Typho usually remained near the ship, waiting for her to return. Occasionally, if she took too long, he would send a handmaid after her.

Instead, she had found her husband, leaning against the opposite wall and trapped in a conversation with Senator Orn Free Taa. He had met eyes with her halfway through the conversation, one where she could nearly sense his boredom. Anakin politely excused himself at the same time that Bail had left her side.

The two senators of the Loyalist Committee quickly fell into step with one another, continuing conversation. Anakin took the chance to cross the hall, instantly slipping his arm around her waist.

Padmé’s face warmed instantly, she took a step back, eyes wide. “Ani, public!” She said quickly, hushed under her breath.

“Senator Amidala, I’m sure you can forgive me,” he said, just as softly. “It’s been months since I’ve seen my wife, Senator.”

The heat of an embarrassed, but loving flush against her face only increased. “ Master Jedi, I'm sure I understand your… predicament, but we’ll have to discuss this matter somewhere else. Would you give me the pleasure of dining with me tonight?”

He looked almost startled by her question. Padmé wanted to pull him aside, out of the public eye, out of the emptying Senate Chambers and into a desolate hall. Instead, she brought her free hand down to his, linking her little finger with one of his.

He smiled, too much for them to just be friends, meeting after a long time apart. Padmé’s heart beat double at the danger of being found out. She wanted so badly to lean into him, to kiss him hello, welcome home, I love you, I missed you, remind me what it’s like to be yours--

Anakin’s fingers hooked around hers a little tighter. “Let’s get away from here.”

She led him through the Senate squabble with the precision only a female senator had. Padmé quickly crossed the hall towards another, where the auditorium rooms became small meeting rooms. Anakin laughed softly, following her as she opened one of the rooms towards the end with her key code.

The door slid open, the warm lights came to life as Anakin took the chance to bring his arms around her, picking her up into his arms and spinning her before meeting for a kiss. Padmé’s hands came up to his face, her fingers ran through his messy hair, longer and more bronze, now in the time they had been apart. His lips moved from hers to her cheek, then her chin, her neck, almost to the collar of her dress as his hands moved against the buttons holding the fabric in place.

“Ani, no,” she said with a giggle like a schoolgirl. “Let me just look at you,” she said, hoping that he could understand the need in her voice.

He pulled away just enough for their eyes to meet. “We only have a few more minutes before Typho sends in Karté.”

Padmé felt the same desperation, the need to pull at the belt of his robes, to slip the leather tabards off of his shoulders and discard layers of Jedi attire. The feeling of want and need in her chest were almost unbearable, fighting against her shaking fingers.

An exercise in restraint, she told herself. For the both of them.

Her hands moved from his hair to his face. Anakin closed his eyes, relaxing underneath her soft touch as she searched for new wounds.

The last time she had seen him, he had had a bandage over his eye, laughing about how he had nearly lost it and how it would’ve matched his arm. It hadn’t been very funny when she had started to cry, realizing again just how vulnerable her husband was. The wound had scarred over, soft and pink with new skin.

She traced over it carefully, mesmerized by the gentle precision of it. To think that it had happened in a duel with a woman he had described as unhinged. Padmé’s thoughts of Anakin rarely involved duels. The Jedi were peacekeepers, and although the war had put them into various military positions, she knew that her husband’s job was more focused on aggressive negotiations than dueling a witch in the rain.

Now, his duties had transformed. Anakin was more than just a Jedi, he was a Jedi Master . His responsibilities were more than the Republic, more than his battalion of men-- he had a child to consider. A young, small, no doubt fast, child with bright blue, inquisitive eyes. Padmé thought of the girl in the holo transmission, how she had looked between the two of them, unsure of how to act between her new master and a senator.

She opened her mouth to speak, to begin her barrage of questions that had built up over days and nights of constant worrying. Before she could make a sound, Anakin kissed her, passionately enough to make her knees weak.

Her fingers slipped from the smoothness of his scar back into his bronze curls. He smelled of the night air, crisp and sweet. His hands held her tight, allowing her to soak in his presence, to feel her entire body relax against him as though he was the only source of gravity in the galaxy.

It sent a body down her spine directly to her toes. Her husband, Anakin Skywalker, was here with her, and they were in a conference room.

She brought her hands closer to herself, hoping to break him apart just enough to undo the belt securing his robes. Padmé had quickly become an expert in the many layers of Jedi attire in their small stint on Naboo. She fought with the small metal clasp holding all of his layers of formality together. His hands moved lower down her back as he broke apart from their kiss, only for a second to snicker as she tried to unclasp it again, her fingers not cooperating under the realization that they had a few moments of privacy.

“What are you trying to do?” He asked, after a few more moments of her struggling, a laugh hidden under his voice.

Padmé pulled back just enough to look up at him without bumping her head into his chin. “This is a new belt, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Anakin murmured, moving in closer. His blue eyes were almost hypnotic, coaxing her into another kiss so deep she melted in his arms. “Why are you trying to undress me, Senator? This could start a scandal,” he said quietly, his fingertips tickling at her sides.

She squirmed a little, smiling wide. “Maybe I want to start a scandal, Master Jedi.”

“Master Jedi?” He picked her up just enough to place her on the nearest table. “I like that.”

A knock at the door separated them as though they were the same side of two magnets.

Anakin’s eyes glanced at the door, his face turned bright red as Padmé hastily slid down from the table. She hoped that she didn’t look too much in disarray. She almost felt guilty for having nearly undressed her husband, messing up his beautiful hair, leaving the light pink smudge of her lips on the corner of his mouth. Padmé glanced to the door, finding Typho’s back to the door, guarding her already.

Her face flushed with embarrassment as she straightened Anakin’s robes. She smudged at the makeup she had left on him, enough to make him blush.

“Leaving your mark?”

“Removing it,” she said quietly. “You’ll still come to dinner tonight, won’t you?”

Anakin’s hand came to rest on hers, pressing his lips to her fingers. “Of course, angel.”

“It almost surprised me, you know, to see you standing there with a padawan learner,” Padmé said from the kitchenette, pouring two glasses of Alderaanian wine. Almost, she had said, emphasizing it. Anakin was unpredictable in some ways, yes; but in following through with what the Jedi expected of him, never. “I remember you saying that you would never take a learner,” she continued.

He stayed where he was behind her, putting his arm around her middle and resting his head on top of hers. “You’ve cut your hair since the last time I was home,” he said, hoping desperately to keep the girl a secret. Padmé could almost sense his discomfort, he already knew where the conversation was going.

She leaned her head back against him, “she looks too young, Ani.” Padmé placed the bottle down on the counter and reached for her own glass. She had poured less for Anakin, knowing he would barely touch it.

He exhaled softly, Padmé felt his breath stir a few stray pieces of her hair. “She’s thirteen.”

The glass would have slipped from her hand to the floor if Anakin hadn’t caught it. The wine splattered against the tile, sprinkling the skirt of her new nightgown. It was all instantly forgotten as Anakin let go of her, placing the glass on the counter and moving to find a towel.

Thirteen. It echoed in her mind as though he had said it into a cave.

“That’s too young.” Padmé said quickly, not moving from her spot. “Anakin, that’s too young.”

“You were queen at that age, love,” he said from around the corner. He returned with a towel and started to clean up the mess that she had created.

Padmé brought a hand to her face. “I was queen at fourteen,” she corrected, “and even then I felt like I was too young. I had advisors, extensive training--”

Anakin frowned, looking at the floor as he cleaned up the wine. “Ahsoka is mature for her age, the Council wouldn’t have let her become a padawan if she wasn’t ready.”

Ahsoka. Finally, Padmé had been given a name to put to the bright-eyed girl. Ahsoka, thirteen, and on several battlefields already. She thought of how many times Anakin had returned home, weary and broken from what he had seen, what he had done for the Republic. Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach felt heavy, as though the single sip of wine had been to swallow down a stone.

“I’m not questioning her abilities, but Anakin, you know she’s still a child. The things you’ve seen, the things you’ve already lived through in this war… for a thirteen year old girl to live through that as well?”

He glanced up from the floor, his hands wet and sticky with wine. “I know, Padmé, but I can’t do anything about it.” He stood, wringing out the towel into the sink. “According to Obi-Wan, this is normal. Kids can become padawans as young as twelve.”

Padmé took the other glass of wine, the one she had poured for him, and swallowed down to get rid of the stone that had found its way into her throat. “Thirteen and already dealing with the Hutts,” she said softly.

Anakin smirked a little, pouring her another glass of wine. “It could be worse, she could be fourteen and leading a planet through a siege by the TechnoUnion, or--”

Her own accomplishments were of little matter in this conversation. Padmé stopped him with a look, meeting his blue eyes. “What else have you and Ahsoka done? What have your last few missions been?”

She could see him giving in already, sighing as he placed the cloth on the counter before rinsing off his hands. “Padmé,” he kept his voice soft and low, a chill traced down her arm, curling her fingers. “Are we really going to spend the night talking about Ahsoka?”

Oh, how he knew her and how dirty it was of him to even try to rekindle the conference room, and to do so in her kitchen. Padmé’s chill quickly turned hot with a slight flicker of anger and annoyance.

“Yes!” She said, taking the bottle of wine from the counter, as well as her glass. She walked out into the den, leaving Anakin in the kitchenette to deal with his thirst.

“She’s thirteen, Anakin!” Padmé flopped down onto the comfiest couch, pulling her legs up onto the cushions before placing down the bottle. “How many times have you nearly died? How many times has she? Will she?”

He remained still in the other room, his back to her. She could see him thinking, the way one hand rested against the back of the counter, supporting him, the other in his hair. She had caught him in a way he hadn’t expected. Padmé only felt a little guilty for stealing their night away, a night that was supposed to be spent in between the sheets.

“How is a thirteen year old girl supposed to deal with that? How is she supposed to learn how to be a Jedi, a peacekeeper, in the middle of a galactic war?”

Padmé could feel the senator inside of her beginning to take over. Her voice was loud, too loud, possibly loud enough to wake a handmaid or two. She took another long sip of wine and watched him.

Eventually, after many seconds that felt too long, his hand left his hair and he turned around to join her, empty wine glass in hand. She watched carefully as he stopped just short of her and poured his own glass. In any other situation, it would’ve been an amusing sight-- her husband, who hated anything that didn’t taste like sugar, pouring himself a glass of the driest wine in the galaxy.

He took a sip of it before sitting down beside her, leaving space for her legs in between them. Anakin kept the glass in his hand, holding it carefully, but well practiced. “I don’t have any way of answering those questions, Padmé.”

She frowned, turning away. Anakin’s absences made sense now, thinking of young Ahsoka. Padmé imagined if Satine had the same problem with Obi-Wan when Anakin had become his padawan. Obi-Wan had been just a few years older than Anakin was now, raising a nine year old, because Qui-Gon Jinn had told him to in his dying breath.

Padmé was quick to blink away the images of Naboo, the heartbreak that Obi-Wan had felt for so long, still buried deep underneath his shell. She tried not to think of her husband and his padawan, Anakin giving Ahsoka to Obi-Wan with his last breath. To think of such things, to consider it, she swallowed down another few sips of wine.

“So, where were your missions?”

Anakin exhaled, “Christophsis.” He looked out into the empty space of the apartment, taking a sip of the wine and instantly recoiling at the taste. “ Teth, Tatooine.”

“Wasn’t Christophsis a war zone?” Padmé asked, taking the wine from him and placing it down on the small table in front of them.

“Yes, but it was nearly over by the time Ahsoka got there.”

“So, why Christophsis? Why then?”

Anakin sunk back against the cushions of the couch, looking at the empty hand that had just had a glass of wine in it. Somehow, it had found its way into Padmé’s hand, she stood with it, taking another sip as she paced the floor. Her thoughts flowed better in motion, when the den became her own Senate floor.

It was better for her to do so with a glass of wine than Anakin. She was no stranger to his habits. Padmé thought of the last time she had seen him drink wine, how quickly he had become tipsy, bordering on drunk. It had been her job to escort her security detail from the Senate party, his clumsy steps and laughs echoing in the empty hall. It warmed her face to think of it, to think of such innocence in a time of war.

Her attention fell to him when he took a deep breath, steadying himself. His hand rests against the couch cushions, near the spot she had left beside him. “Well, we had to ask for reinforcements,” he recounted, “we were being overrun, every time we tried to contact the Resolute, it was static on the other end. When our ship came in we thought it would be fresh troops, maybe Master Windu, but instead it was just her, just Ahsoka.”

The breath was nearly knocked out of her by the sudden realization, “you were going to die, and the Council sent a thirteen year old girl to help you.” The realization of her husband’s near death, of the pressure put on this padawan, on the absurdity of such a statement. Padmé couldn’t help but laugh, her hand coming up to rest against her wine warmed face. “Of course they did.”

“Padmé,” Anakin sighed again, suddenly looking exhausted. “It wasn’t like that. They didn’t know--”

“Didn’t know what? That she’s thirteen?”

“She’s almost fourteen.” He said, reaching for her wine bottle, taking as much of a swig as he could stomach. “You think she’s defenseless, she’s smart, she’s capable.” He gritted his teeth at the taste of the alcohol, but took another swallow anyway. “Ahsoka is… she’s just like you.” He said, placing the bottle back down and daring to meet her eyes.

Padmé remained where she was, standing across from him with her feet firmly planted.

If not for the girl being thirteen, there were still several things wrong with the matter at hand. Being a Jedi padawan at thirteen was dangerous, and being thrown into an active war was even more dangerous, but for this girl to have to deal with so much responsibility… Padmé had to sit down.

Slowly, she returned to her husband’s arms and turned so she could rest her head on his chest. He relaxed instantly under her touch, the warmth of the wine already making him hazy. Padmé tried not to fixate on the imperfection of her attempted perfection. Her nightgown was ruined with splashes of wine, her feet sticky from standing in a puddle of it.

This night had been meant for them. She had waited to show him her nightgown, prepared a small meal for them to share, and instead they had spent it getting drunk and bickering about his padawan learner. Padmé snuggled her face into his robes, hoping to wish for the time she had wasted back. No matter what she said, no matter what she did, or how she acted, she couldn’t preserve Ahsoka’s childhood. She hadn’t been able to do that with her own.

“What can I do to stop you from worrying so much?” He asked, brushing her hair off of her neck and out of her face. The timbre of his voice, the way he sounded so close to her ear. Padmé melted against him as though he were the warmth of the sun.

“Tell me about her,” she prodded. “Tell me everything about her.”

Anakin smiled a little, his hands traced down her back, up, then down again as he thought about what to say. “Well, she’s annoying,” he said softly, “and she knows when she’s right.”

Padmé couldn’t help the smile that spread across her lips. “I like her already.”

She hadn’t intended for any of this to happen.

Padmé sat in one of the chairs on the bridge of her husband’s flagship, watching as he spoke with the Admiral. The remains of the Separatist fleet were smoldering outside of the viewport. Her star skiff was among the flames, trapped in the hull of what had been Grievous’s ship.

The Chancellor himself had given her the coordinates, believing in their validity, she had left on a whim to discuss terms with the Banking Clan. Instead, she had quickly found herself and Threepio in the middle of a battle, blasts from each ship rocking her little star skiff as it attempted to cross into Republic lines from behind a dreadnought.

“Are you okay?” Anakin asked, startling her out of her thoughts.

Padmé looked up from the metal floor, taking his hand up. “I’m fine,” she said curtly, hoping to push her still lingering fear off for another time. Padmé looked at their hands, at how she had interlocked her fingers with his just by instinct.

“I’ll take you to my quarters, you can clean up and get some rest.” He said softly, walking her down the hall of the Resolute.

She had been in flagships before, but Anakin’s ship was different from the rest. Padmé had never seen so many clones, all of them stopping to acknowledge them on their walk. Anakin smiled at a few of them, all of them keeping their distance from them, as though they knew.

“We’re returning to Coruscant,” he said softly, leading her down another long, endless hallway. This one was far less populated, only the sounds of their footsteps and his voice so soft against her ear could calm the lingering adrenaline in her blood.

She nodded, unsure of what else she could do in such a situation. “You know, I appreciate the rescue mission, but I remember telling you not to stop attacking Grievous,” she said.

Anakin’s smile widened. He pulled her in closer to him, “I wasn’t about to let you have all the fun.”

Padmé could feel her own lips stretch into a smile. “Okay, I’ll admit, some of it was fun.” She released her grasp on his hand so she could link her arm with his, finding his fingers again. “It was… exhilarating to see you again.”

“Exhilarating?” He smirked, stopping in his tracks. “You didn’t do this just to see me again, right?”

“No, no, I--” she ran a hand through the stray hairs that kept falling in her face. “I followed some coordinates from the Chancellor, I suppose I must’ve transposed the numbers, or something like that.”

“And without security?”

“I had Threepio,” she said defensively.

He smiled a little, leading her down the hall to a door. Anakin input the security key as the doors slid open, revealing a humble little living room with two sofas and a meager kitchen-- a caf maker, conservator, and nanowave. Off of the living room were two doors.

“It’s through there, if you want to--”

Padmé was quick to silence her husband with a kiss, her hands quick to find the space where his robes overlapped. She started to pull at the fabric, hoping to free it from his belt. Anakin’s hands moved to her hips, holding her steady, but still kissing her deeply.

“Padmé,” he whispered, his blue eyes wide and bright.

“Master, I can’t find the Artooie’s spare treads,” a voice called out from one of the rooms. The door opened as the girl, Ahsoka, stepped out with a box in her hands. “Oh.”

Padmé quickly untangled herself from her husband. She hoped that her face wouldn’t betray her with a blush, but it was certain that Anakin’s would. Her husband had never been able to avoid it.

“Um, I'm sorry,” Ahsoka said quickly, taking a step back. “I--”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Padmé said just as fast. “I’m sorry, I, we, didn’t realize.”

Anakin had turned to ice behind her. Padmé had carefully moved to reach for his hand behind her, but he had moved just out of touch. She let her hands rest at her sides, feeling foolish for being caught by a thirteen year old girl.

They were both smarter than this, to allow themselves to be so exposed. Padmé had gone to such care to construct a narrative of them being good friends, not mates or partners. Although they had been caught, Padmé hoped that in some weird way, Anakin would hold it against her.

He had nearly gotten them caught once in her star skiff, accidentally knocking into the homing beacon. Now, that star skiff was a smoldering piece of metal on Grievous’s destroyed Malevolence. She hadn’t considered negotiations on the Resolute, at least, not until now. It wasn’t the most pressing issue, though, Padmé brushed aside her urge to drag Anakin out of the room, and thought of all of the questions she had prepared for his padawan.

Later, he could tease her about almost undressing him in front of his thirteen year old student.

Ahsoka’s eyes quickly moved up to Anakin, who couldn’t meet her eyes as he took a step back from both of them, he had turned as red as a Sith saber. Padmé would’ve laughed had her heart not been caught in her throat.

“Um.” Ahsoka said mindlessly, looking back to Padmé, the box of parts still in her hands. It was just as mortifying for her, Padmé realized, watching her lekku darken as well as the markings on her cheeks.

“I'm Padmé Amidala, senator from Naboo, and you must be Anakin’s padawan,” she took a small step forward, offering the young girl her hand. “I want to thank you for rescuing me today.”

Ahsoka clumsily moved the box to rest against her hip to free up a hand. She offered her left, so Padmé quickly changed hands to accommodate the girl’s panicked lack of coordination.

"Ahsoka Tano," she said, feigning confidence.

Her hands were warm, covered in grease from working with Artoo. As soon as the girl realized, she pulled away quickly.

“I am so sorry, I forgot, I’m so sorry,” she wiped her hand on her skirt, too skimpy and small for her.

Padmé felt guilty instantly, she hadn’t done anything to react to the feeling of droid grease on her hands. It wasn’t as though it would hurt her, she was no stranger to grime. She had been covered in worse things.

“It’s fine,” she didn’t wipe her hands on her outfit. The last thing she wanted was for Anakin’s padawan to feel worse.

The tension in the room was enough to bankrupt her mind of any of the questions she had prepared. Padmé hadn’t gone into this expecting to meet Ahsoka, in fact, she had completely forgotten about Anakin’s padawan until hearing her voice. She supposed that Anakin had forgotten as well, too caught up in the moment.

“Um, well, I have to go fix Artoo.” She said, placing the box down on one of the couches and digging through it. “And, if you can’t help me find the treds, then I’m just going to have to rip them off of that old service droid, and Artoo is never going to let me near him again.”

Anakin blinked, suddenly coming to life. “I’ll find them.” He said, brushing a hand through his own hair. “It’s fine, I’ll find them.” He slipped past her into the room that Ahsoka had come from. Padmé figured it was probably his room, the droid parts were enough of a giveaway.

Ahsoka straightened, dropping something that looked like an air filter for a small starship back into the box. “So, um, I’m sorry again, for getting you all dirty like that.”

Padmé smiled a little, “it’s fine.”

They waited in silence, looking one another over while Anakin searched for whatever part it was. Padmé knew the feeling of being dressed down with someone’s eyes. Anakin’s padawan was good at it, taking her apart piece by piece. It was a good skill to have, Padmé knew, and perfecting it would be an even more valuable asset.

Her husband returned a moment later with two metal treads in hand, they looked like thick belts, both of them painted white. Ahsoka quickly took them and inspected the way that the pieces moved, running her fingers over some of the grooves.

“Um, thanks,” she took a few steps back.

“Wait,” Padmé said, stopping the girl in her tracks. “I’ll come with you.” She turned to face her husband, Anakin was frozen staring at the two of them, unsure of what to do or say. “I’m sure the Chancellor would like to hear from you more than he would from me.” She watched as his eyes narrowed, not exactly happy with her, but too caught up in the circumstances to say anything.

“You don't have to,” Ahsoka started.

“No, I want to,” Padmé turned away from her husband to look at the girl.

Ahsoka looked worried, she brought her hands down in front of herself, trying to look as small as possible. Padmé felt guilty for putting pressure on her, for subjecting her to questions like an interrogation.

She turned to look back at him, she could see in his eyes that his thoughts were still far too many and too fleeting. He wanted her to stay, that much was clear in how his hand still longed to reach for her. Padmé turned her head just a little, telling him no before giving him a small bow. “Thank you for coming to my rescue, Master Jedi.” She couldn’t help the smile on her face, or how quickly she had to leave because Ahsoka had already left out the door of their shared quarters.

Ahsoka led her wordlessly through the Resolute to the hangar where she could already hear Threepio. Padmé sighed, resigning herself already to the droid’s bickering. It was sweet that Anakin had programmed him all those years ago just to help his mother, but there were times where she felt Threepio was trying to become her mother.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Ahsoka said, stopping just short of the fabric laid out on the floor. Artoo sat in the middle of it, unable to move. He rocked a little, chirping ecstatically that she hadn’t abandoned him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Padmé froze, “that’s not why I want to talk to you.” She moved closer to Ahsoka’s workspace, which had Anakin’s supervision written all over it. His starfighter, yellow, just like his podracer all those years ago, sat beside her, tool resting against its landing gear, a dirtied rag resting on top of it.

She glanced up to her, resting the treads on the floor. “Why, then?”

“Well, I--” she stopped herself, unable to find the courage to say ‘I want to know more about you, I want to feel better about you being in the middle of a battlefield.’ “I’ve known Anakin for a very long time, and he always said he would never take a padawan learner, so when I saw you in that holo transmission, I knew I had to meet you.”

Ahsoka’s eye markings raised in interest and curiosity. “Oh,” she said, her hands buried in the tool bag. “I guess that makes sense.”

“He’s told me some about you, but I still have questions, if that’s… okay.” Padmé knelt down onto the dirtied fabric, careful of where she was putting her hands. She wiped the dried grease off on it, hoping not to catch the girl’s attention.

She took a wrench from the bag and started to work on Artoo’s bolts, tipping him over onto his side with great care before placing the bag against him, to keep him from rolling. The droid made a noise, one that Padmé recognized as annoyance.

Ahsoka murmured her apologies to him before looking back up to Padmé, “um, okay, I guess I have questions for you, too.”

The way she said it sent a small spark of panic into Padmé’s heart. It was only natural for her to have questions after catching them like that. She bit down on the inside of her lip before recovering her facade.

“Do you want to go first?” Padmé asked, lowering her eyes to Artoo.

The girl reached up and grabbed the rag from Anakin’s starfighter, folding it carefully and using it to clean the grease from Artoo’s servos. “Um, how long have you known Master Skywalker?”

Padmé relaxed almost instantly at such a question. “A very long time,” she answered. “When he lived on Tatooine with his mother.”

Ahsoka blinked, as though she had made some grander realization. “His mother?”

“She died not long ago,” Padmé answered, hoping to cut the topic short. She knew that Anakin would never say a word to the girl about his mother, that if she questioned him, it would break his trust.

“Your turn to ask a question,” Ahsoka said, rolling Artoo over to get at his other side. The droid chirped almost like a giggle as she did so. “Sorry, Artoo.”

Padmé didn’t even have to think before the words slipped out. “How old are you?”

Ahsoka’s body tensed as though Padmé had touched her. “Thirteen, almost fourteen.”

“Do you like being a padawan?”

She relaxed, Padmé knew that she had taken a right step in the direction. She had dealt with enough adults when she was Ahsoka’s age, all of them asking for her qualifications, credentials, asking to speak to her advisors instead of her. Ahsoka dropped the cloth onto the fabric they sat on.

“Yeah, I do.” She answered, glancing up from her work to meet Padmé��s eyes. “It’s hard sometimes, but I'm learning a lot.”

“I’m sure you’ve found yourself in a lot of dangerous situations already.”

Ahsoka shrugged, “not really.” She picked up one of the treads and started to work it onto Artoo’s bare wheels. “When you speak in the Senate, and your hair is done up, is it your real hair or just a wig?”

Padmé’s breath caught in her chest. She exhaled a small laugh, unable to hide her smile. “It depends, most of the time it’s just a hairpiece, like a wig, but heavier.”

The girl smiled, too. “Artoo, can you spin your treads?”

The droid did so, Padmé watched as the treads aligned themselves with Ahsoka’s guidance. She was certainly perfect for Anakin, the smile on her face, the joy in solving something so simple to make a droid more comfortable. She turned him again, fixing the other tread before moving Artoo upright.

He chirped a thank you to her, moving off of the fabric and onto the floor of the hangar in the direction of Threepio, who had found some clones to annoy in the meantime.

Ahsoka stood and wiped her hands off on her skirt again. Padmé prayed that Anakin had somehow learned how to do laundry and how to remove grease stains for once in his life.

“Can I ask something that might be intrusive?”

Ahsoka placed Anakin’s tools back underneath his starfighter, then the rag on top. “Um, sure.”

“Can you really fight in those clothes?”

Ahsoka blinked, “um, yes.”

“It doesn’t seem safe.” Padmé stood from the fabric on the floor, hoping that her question hadn’t offended Anakin’s padawan. That was the last thing she had wanted to do.

“How?” Ahsoka asked, taking a small step back to look over herself. “I mean, it’s not… jedi robes, but Togruta are allowed to wear non-traditional clothing.”

Padmé straightened a little, hoping to relax herself, so that maybe Ahsoka could relax as well. “It’s not that it doesn't suit you, or look nice, because it does. I just know how easy it is to get scraped and cut on missions, and I’m sure you would feel safer in something with more... coverage.”

Ahsoka’s defensive demeanor shifted. “Oh.”

“Especially because you’re growing. It’ll be much more comfortable to fight in something that supports you.” Padmé put her emphasis on support, hoping that the girl would understand what she meant.

Her blue eyes went wide, “oh!”

Padmé smiled, giving Anakin’s padawan a small nod. “I’d be more than happy to take you shopping in Coruscant. I’m sure my seamstress would love to create something other than gowns for once.”

The girl’s face turned dark with blush, a smile on her face. “I would really appreciate that, Senator.”

Padmé smiled, “you can call me Padmé, I mean, if I can call you Ahsoka, instead of Padawan Tano.”

“Yes! Please, I’d prefer that,” Ahsoka said, doing little to hide her joy. It was almost as though the dropping of formalities had changed her. “So, have you ever tried an awesome sour jawbreaker? Our rations were mixed up with a candy seller’s goods on Coruscant, and they’re so sour they make almost everyone cry.”

She laughed, “I don’t think that I have.” Padmé allowed the girl to take her by the hand, leading her back through the endless halls of the Resolute.

It was strange feeling better about things now that she had met Ahsoka. She trusted the girl entirely, though her feelings of concern for putting Ahsoka in a warzone hadn’t fully been squashed. Padmé embraced the strange feeling inside of her, a need to protect the girl from losing a childhood that she could never have. If Ahsoka couldn’t be a kid at Anakin’s side, she could be one at her side, finding peace in the quiet laughter and shared tears of sour candy.

#star wars #sw:tcw #ahsoka tano #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #anidala #star wars fanfic #sw fanfic #my writing #shoutout to me for doing something since this pandemic started #Anonymous

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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago

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Writing Commission Information + Terms of Service

Commission Guide:

A step by step process for commissioning me:

Read Rules/Guidelines: Check over the rest of this page, making sure to thoroughly read every section, especially the rules.

Fill out the Form Below: Once you’re done reading the rules, see the form at the bottom of the page. Fill out every section as described (and as applicable).

Send me the completed form: You can either use tumblr’s built in messenger, or email me at [email protected]. If emailing, please put “Commission” and the date in the subject box, otherwise I might not see it.

Wait for a response: I should respond to your message within 48 hours, assuming you followed the above instructions. If I don’t, double check that the message was sent properly, and that you put “Commission” in the subject line. If everything on your end looks good, consider sending me a message directly on tumblr and asking if I’ve seen your message. Chances are my computer was glitching on me and I need to restart it.

General Rules:

Be clear. Make sure to fill out the form, and mention anything you want included in the prompt section.

I accept Character x Character Prompts as well as Character x Reader and Character Study prompts. However, I will not write any ships involving underage characters or any involving incest (even pseudo).

NSFW/Smut is okay. I am willing to write most kinks, but you might want to check in with me on specific ones before filling out a form.

AUs are accepted as long as you are clear about what exactly the AU is. Again, I will not write underage characters, so High School AUs are out of the question, but College AUs are fine.

Prompts containing sensitive topics must be marked as such. If your prompt contains any potentially triggering content, such as depression, abuse, or self-harm, you must mention it both in the main prompt and in the “Warnings” section of the form. Even if it’s only a small mention of the sensitive topic, I need this warning. Failing to mark your prompt as sensitive/potentially triggering can lead to me denying your request outright, and repeat offenders can be blocked. Please keep in mind that I am a real person, with real feelings, who has had traumatic experiences in the past. While I am fine with writing these subjects, I need to mentally prepare myself before I can.

I will write dark/yandere content. Nothing is “too bloody” for me. The only thing I will not, under any circumstances, write is non consensual sex.

Fics will be posted on AO3 unless you specifically request otherwise. If you contact me via email, I will also email a copy of the fic to you, in addition to a link to the fic on AO3.

Pricing Guide:

One-Shots/Single Fics: $5 for 500 words, $1 for every additional 100 words. 500 words is the minimum, and anything over 4,000 words might be converted into a multi-chapter fic (which would likely save you money).

Multi-Chapter Fics: $20 for two (2) chapters, with a minimum of 1,200 words per chapter, and $10 per additional chapter. Two chapters minimum.

Alternative Payment Options: Fellow writers/artists can pay for some or all of their commission with an art trade, depending on how large of a commission it is. This is done on a case by case basis, and should be mentioned in your initial message.

Payment:

All payments will be made through Paypal

All payments will be made up front, once I have officially accepted the prompt and confirmed this with you.

I will not start working on your commission until I have received payment, this is to help prevent unsavory activities.

If you are choosing to pay partially with an art/writing trade, you will only need to pay the cash portion before I will start working. However, you will not receive the finished commission until I have received your end of the trade.

Full refunds can be requested up until the commission is completed. If your commission has already been finished and posted, I cannot guarantee a refund for the full amount. Instead, I will attempt to rewrite your request to your satisfaction (if that was the issue). If you are not happy with the rewritten piece, I will refund you for 80% of the commission.

If something changes, and you are no longer able to afford what you have commissioned, and I have not posted it yet, message me as soon as you know! I will cease working and do my best to get you your money back as soon as possible, but I will not be able to pay you for any extra charge made by Paypal itself. Partially written fics will be added to my "abandoned" list, where others can pay a reduced amount to see them finished. If you still intend to pay me, and simply need to postpone the payment, I am willing to set aside a commission for up to 6 months. After that time has passed I will assume you cannot pay and proceed as mentioned above.

Updates:

I will try to give you regular updates on the progress of your pieces, such as "50% done" or "rough draft finished, editing now".

For multiple chapter fics, I will send you each chapter as they are finished, so that you may give feedback and make alterations to the overall plot if you see fit.

If you don't hear from me for over two weeks, please send me an email or message on tumblr. I have a running list of all commissions, but sometimes things get mixed up, regardless of how hard I work to prevent these issues. In the event of a delay, expect to get bonus material as my way of apologizing!

Fandoms:

Overwatch: All characters, including non-playable ones.

Resident Evil: Only characters from Village

Fallout: Characters from 3, New Vegas, and 4, with some exceptions.

Mass Effect: Original trilogy only

Borderlands: All games, limited characters (on a case by case basis).

Far Cry 5: All guns for hire + Faith. Seed brothers are on a case by case basis.

Other: If you like my writing and want me to write about something not listed above, feel free to send me a message on tumblr and ask about it.

Commission Form:

Fandom: What game/fandom are you requesting for?

Pairing (If Applicable): Does your prompt include any ships/pairings?

Characters: What characters do you want to show up in the fic?

Warnings (If Applicable): Are you requesting any sensitive/potentially triggering content?

Type of Fic: Single fic or multi-chapter?

Word Count/Price: How long do you want the story to be? This will determine the price, as noted above in the price guide. If you aren’t sure about this part, feel free to send me a message for clarification.

Prompt: What do you want the fic/story to focus on?

Notes: Is there anything else you want me to know?

Example Form:

Here’s a filled out version of the commission form to use as an example:

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing (If Applicable): Mercy x Reader

Characters: Mercy, Reader Insert

Warnings (If Applicable): N/A

Type of Fic: Single chapter/oneshot

Word Count/Price: 1,500 Words, $15

Prompt: Mercy comforting a reader who’s had a bad day. Just something warm and fluffy. Please and thank you!

Notes: Gender neutral reader, please.

#writing commissions #$5 commissions #feel free to reblog

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klutzymaiden123 · 4 years ago

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Some Tips on How I Keep Motivating Myself to Write

This post was inspired by a response I recently got from @pastelnightgale and obviously, I’m not an expert (I’m literally on year 6 of a fanfic rip), but I still wanted to type something up about this.

I find that the hardest part about writing is finding the motivation to actually start it . . . and then keep it. You can have all of these intricate fantasies in your head, with twists and turns and even a playlist you made on spotify, but actually getting up and writing it is ridiculously hard.

Especially if, like me, you suffer from perfectionism.

I kinda wanted to write a post about how I personally motivate myself to write, both fanfiction and my own things. Obviously, what I write is flawed and needs a lot of improvement, but I’ve come really far and I’m proud of the progress I’ve made.

So, here’s some tips I’ve picked up over the years. Feel free to apply this to whatever art you personally create, but this is primarily for writers.

1) Listening to Music

This is my number one. Easily. I’m someone who has a lot of attachment with the music I listen to (as most people do, I’d assume). Though I’m picky with the overall sound, I prefer music or artists who really put a lot of thought into their lyrics specifically. Or even when they use certain effects to carry across emotions or add more emphasis to specific lines. It’s why I’m such a fan of Taylor Swift; her songs are basically poetry packaged as pop music.

It personally helps me to listen to music not just because it’s enjoyable, but it helps create scenarios in my head. We all shoot music videos in our head, why not try doing it with your characters? Plus, if the artist you’re listening to plays with words through metaphors or similies or imagery, it’s a massive bonus. I seriously recommend turning to music, whatever genre you listen to, and letting that sometimes paint the picture for you.

2) watching Movies.

This is a massive one for me. I don’t know how high this would be on anyone else’s lists since films are obviously a completely different medium to books, but I find there’s a lot of things that can be useful about movies. For one thing, movies just have better fight sequences. Kinda obvious statement, but I don’t mean in a ‘well you can see it so therefore film is better’ no, I mean, film literally has better action sequences.

Obviously, as a writer, you’re never going to be able to properly adapt the quick pace of fights in movies. But you can adapt the details in how they move. Fight scenes in movies are better then books because they’re choreographed. Now granted, I’m still beginning my journey in reading, but so far, I haven’t been impressed with what I’ve seen. Either the author writes a scene that describes the action, but with no focus on the strain it has on the character’s bodies, or they gloss over the fight completely. It makes me feel like I’m reading fanfiction, but written from the younger side.

It’s just super dissapointing, so I try to challenge myself by studying how the characters moves, the impact of their movements on each other, and then how tired that can leave them.

But also, movies can have other things that I think writers should learn to adapt. Like a character’s mannerisms. Now, I don’t just mean mannerisms as in what they do in their day to day lives, I mean facial ticks. Like, the minute sequences their features will go through as they’re processing news. Or their stances. Or what they do with their hands. Actors are very detailed about how they’re protraying their characters, and I just find myself aching to carry that over in my own portrayal of my characters.

It’s obviously important to realise that film and novels have both their benefits and disadvantages in what they can and can’t portray. But it’s even more important to realise that different mediums can also teach us things about our sense of portrayals.

3) Reading books

This may be surprising that it’s not number one, but honestly, I didn’t start reading actual books until late last year. I kinda used to read some in high school, but those were few and far between. This year I’ve actively been trying to emerge myself in more professional writing, as I do find it a little strange to want to write so badly without taking any infleunce from any other writers.

Previously, I used to take inspiration from fanfiction and fictionpress, which I guess I still do. There’s definitely benefits in exclusively reading them (for instance, I prefer characterisation, romance and comedy in fanfiction) but I personally find books to be better in overall world building. I mean, obviously.

World building and setting are my weak spots, and I find that reading literal books actually helps me easier improve on these areas. Oh, and length. I’m a pretty detailed writer, but it’s sometimes hard to navigate what should and shouldn’t be getting so much focus. Fanfiction is pretty short (typically only a few pages), but books can be a whole lot longer, and how they use that space and length helps me translate it into my own pages. Granted, I tend to write way too much, but it’s still really helpful in navigating what should and shouldn’t be getting focus.

Oh, and bonus points for booktubers. They review a variety of different books, and for me personally, whenever they critique books, it motivates me to write something brilliant so they could maybe read it and smile. My favourites are WithCindy and Dominic Noble.

4) Tumblr—Specifically writing blogs.

When I tell you that I did nothing in my last years of high school but secretly read fanfiction and writing blogs on tumblr in class, I--

Obviously, I’m biased, cause I’ve been reading tips on here since I was a kid, but I really recommend following some good blogs on here. They give such good advice, specifically on how to research, or portray certain emotions and, most of all, representation. Tumblr was actually where I learnt to write my fight scenes—about how to portray the feeling of a quick sequence of events, while balancing it out with your character’s limited view. They write things I haven’t even seen professionals talk about (and honestly, I think they could benefit from reading a tumblr blog).

My personal favourite blogs are: Nimble’s Notebook, and Clevergirlhelps

5) Re-writes.

Okay, this is a massive one I should’ve mentioned in the beginning. Never compare what you have on your word doc to what others have published. Why? Because I can tell you that they did not start off like that. They went through massive amounts of editing and drafting and re-reads before coming out like this clean cut version. Trust me. No one’s that quick. And even if they are, who cares? It could take you two drafts, it could take you four, it could take you nine--we all work at our own pace.

It’s something I have to keep reminding myself when I’m on my first and second draft. Because they are shit. I always feel untalented when writing my first draft--oh, and that’s not a purposeful dig at myself to get compliments, I genuinely mean that. I will never let someone read one of my early drafts because they are literally so bad, and not only that, but those drafts are for me. They’re not there for anyone else yet. Early drafts are just so you can start to build your empire, they’re your foundation. You can reach for the sky the more you keep building.

Don’t get on your own case if you don’t like your first draft. It’s fine. It gets so much easier the more you rewrite it. Trust me.

6) Write Things for You.

This is one of my favourite tips. Oh, and I don’t mean it in a ‘you’re not writing for an audience, you are the audience’ kinda way. No, I mean literally write things for you. And only for you.

If you have a story in your head that you don’t want to write because you know it’s just a phase, it won’t last long enough for you to make something out of, or you’re not confident in it, or whatever, fuck it—just write it.

Open your word doc and type it out. Then don’t post it. Or share it. Keep it on your computer, stored away in a folder you won’t ever share. You might be asking, why would you waste your time on a project no one will ever see? Simple.

It takes away the pressure.

A major hindrance to a writer actually writing is sometimes . . . not feeling good enough. You’re worried that an audience will laugh or mock what you’ve written, or that it won’t turn out just the way you planned it too, or even that the plot is too corny. Well, what I’ve found is that writing for myself stops me from judging myself so badly. I have so many documents on this computer of corny borderline wattpad stories that will never see the life of day. And it feels great. Cause I’m still actively writing and improving myself while eliminating that huge amount of anxiety that plagues me.

This is such a massive tip, please consider it. Obviously, if the story turns out really well, go ahead and post it if you’re super proud of it. But otherwise, just write something with the intention of not sharing it. Keep it to yourself, so you can look back on it with fond memories.

#writing #woc writers #books #authors #woc authors #feminism #woc writing #poc writing #poc authors

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driftbending · 4 years ago

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i keep writing and rewriting my reaction to vincenzo because there are a lot but also i'm not certain i articulate everything i hated about the ending.

i will say that i knew no matter what that i wouldn't like the ending because murdering a character as punishment for their misdeeds is not something that appeals to me. i grew up watching kirikou et la sorcière, avatar: the last airbender, lilo and stitch, and (more recently) moana. all of these are stories that say "here is an evil character that we'll stop in a way that doesn't involve jail/murder," and the only exception i make for this is light yagami's death in death note and that's because ryuk killed him as a way to end their relationship, not as a punishment for his crimes. (and gothic lit is exempt bc they have to be resolved with murder.) so, whatever happened, regardless of how much violence the babel four did, none of their deaths would have held any emotional satisfaction for me. yet i prepared myself to be unimpressed by the finale since this is what the set up has always been: vincenzo will kill hanseok, and maybe myunghee, seunghyeok, and hanseo.

i knew this from the beginning. the narrative repeated it so often i got annoyed. there were so many close calls with vincenzo pulling a gun on hanseok that that got boring. by the time ep. 20 rolled around i was just fed up and wanted someone to die because this show had already failed me so many other times with their set ups that i wanted at least one good payoff.

lo and behold, they did end up killing the four characters i thought would die. hanseo died, and though he was my favorite character, and though i felt sad he didn't get any funeral scene or help while he was fending off his brother and that his death served as a sacrifice for vincenzo instead of literally anything else, i didn't cry or even get mad about it. he died and i felt free to stop caring about the rest of the story. yay me! i do understand the fans who hated that he was killed and that he should've survived bc abuse victims don't deserve the storyline hanseo got, but this is not a show i expected to actually care about victims. despite what it says, i knew i wouldn't get this for hanseo waaaaay back in ep 8 when they brought up the victims of that gay banker and just used it as a way for us to root against the banker. they didn't treat those victims with any respect at all and so i was already prepared for them to do it all over again. and they did and it sucks, but again for me i couldn’t get as angry as i normally would about this bc i always knew that the deaths from this show would never mean anything to me bc there was just so much of it it became meaningless.

another thing i knew that was going to let me down about this show is that it didn’t have a single “good” character for me to root for. mr. hong existed, but he was murdered early on. every other character on the show is too corrupt to be the ones i would want handling a reconstruction project for a more ethical world. yes, they made hanseo go through a redemption arc, but they didn’t let him stay did they? they focused so much on deconstruction they never cared about reconstruction. so when they got to the ending where vincenzo just leaves, chayoung and the tenants are thrown into a familiar cycle of court cases and defending their plaza from it being redeveloped, vincenzo just goes on to be a mafia boss again, and the guillotine file is back in the hands of the corrupt intelligence agency that created it on the orders of their president. the only thing that changed was babel group was destroyed bc their two ceos were murdered and the lawyers of their legal rep. were also murdered.

and yet, despite my expectations being so low they were basically non-existent, i was still disappointed. they didn't let chayoung do anything (which i knew would happen because i knew something about her characterization never felt fully fledged to me the way it did to fandom, so i wasn't surprised when they delegated her as a damsel-in-distress/love interest.), they killed myunghee the way we used to burn witches (which how fitting for a female character that is cunning and cruel), and the way they killed hanseok literally made me feel faint and nauseous (i wish this was an exaggeration; the second i saw the drill pointed at him i started feeling this way and i couldn't listen/watch his death scene because it was so brutal).

so, the ending satisfied nothing for me. if people who shipped the main characters were satisfied, whatever. i was never interested in them as a ship (i tend to ship vincenzo and chayoung with other characters), so the ending was even more disappointing bc it really held nothing that mattered to me.

i was also not a person that liked the way each character idolized vincenzo because i preferred his relationships with other characters to be filled with more tension* and the narrative just told me that the writers didn't, that vincenzo's word was what mattered, that the other character's conflicting needs were meant to be eclipsed by vincenzo's needs. so when the characters were all looking into the horizon hoping that vincenzo would some day come back (for what, i ask you?) i was just like :|

(*what do i mean by tension? i mean my favorite version of chayoung/vincenzo was the early eps when she hated him for being liked so much by her father that her flaws as a daughter were highlighted more and chayoung's own hesitancy with murder bumping up against vincenzo’s lack of hesitancy. mr. cho/vincenzo were most interesting when mr. cho wanted the guillotine file to use for his own purposes. the tenants/vincenzo were the most interesting when the tenants wanted to take the gold and vincenzo was trying to stop them. even hanseo/vincenzo was the most interesting when they had the "will you kill me? will you betray me?" tension as they worked together to get rid of hanseok. these dynamics added layers to the characters and reminded us they had their own motivations that were as equally important as vincenzo’s, but not enough of these tensions lasted past a few episodes and almost always would vincenzo's needs prevail with most of the other characters going along with his plans in the end.)

and this is all without mentioning how fandom sort of ruined a lot of the show for me, too. they took the characteristics that made the myunghee/hanseok dynamic one of my favorites and gave it to chayoung/vincenzo to the point where i was always left baffled and feeling like i was watching a different show. (a good point about the end for me is that i feel vindicated watching the scene where chayoung was basically like "i don't like your methods, vincenzo, but i needed to use them as the lesser of two evils to destroy hanseok," bc it did sort of reinforce for me my own reading of chayoung which was that she doesn't mind being corrupt and blackmailing people or scaring them into compliance, but that she was not going to get her hands covered in blood or dance over the corpses of her enemy. those traits belong to myunghee who accepts her role as a villain in a way that is as cool and collected as vincenzo. and lord, imagine what a show it would've been if the writers had made the kings chayoung/hanseok, the last ones that should ever be taken, while the queens were vincenzo/myunghee who would be the ones that would make all the moves, kill all their enemies pieces, and try to destroy one another first as the two most powerful players in the game? imagine if fandom had been able to read chayoung and myunghee accurately enough that i wouldn’t have to read post after post talking about how they needed to see myunghee brutally murdered/tortured by chayoung because they would understand chayoung’s character isn’t going to do that, posts which i hated seeing bc, as i said before, violence for violence’s sake means nothing to me? imagine if the writers cared enough about chayoung/myunghee to develop them more fully? sigh.)

i feel like i'm going nowhere with this and that i'm repeating myself a lot or not making much sense. but i'll end with this: i knew the last two episodes were going to be garbage when they all gathered at toto's restaurant post-fight in ep 19 and all they were talking about was vincenzo this and vincenzo that instead of worrying after the ones that were momentarily kidnapped/injured. like thanks show, for instead of pushing the narrative along we get a vincenzo fan club meeting and another round of "i never had anything to fight for until you came along" which is a convo we've had plenty of times before.

(footnote: i edited this on may 6, 2021 for clarity.)

#anyway i'm glad i don't have to worry about the nonsense idea of a season two #and if there is one i won't have to subject myself to it bc they killed not only my favorite character #but also the 3 others that made the show interesting #so anything of value a potential season 2 would have is already nixed #i have been set free from a drama that started out extremely promising but petered out into a series of bad tropes & nonsensical metaphors #and bc there is nothing in the final eps that interests me i don't have to scroll through the tag and subject myself #to scenes of myunghee's or hanseok's deaths which were extremely upsetting to me #now time to think about writing that one chayoung character study fic that has been swirling around in my head for a bit #and those hanseo aus i've been playing around with that make me happy just thinking about #e.e.c. watches vincenzo

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