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britcision · 1 year

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A second WIP Wednesday in this chapter, but gods willing and the creek don’t rise we will not see a third! I’m just trying to see if I can squish both Harley and Constantine in at the end… and the answer is probably not 😔

But, that’s what next chapter is for! And for now y’all can enjoy an excerpt from the tail end of this one! All good things must come to an end

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Yeah This Might As Well Happen

As Harley followed Bruce out of the room, Sam’s phone began buzzing dramatically in her pocket. Abandoning her quest for the thermos, she pulled it out and glanced down.

Grinned wickedly. She’d been expecting this for a while now actually.

“Aw, look, my parents saw our selfies on Twitter,” she cooed sarcastically, Manson Party Voice making a brief return.

Danny scooted just a little away from the still buzzing phone.

“So are you gonna get that?” He asked as Alfred brought him a perfectly reheated plate. “What? Oh, thanks.”

Sam shrugged, hit speakerphone, and set it on the table. They’d posted those pictures pretty much solely for the incoming reaction.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” She said sweetly, still in her public facing voice.

Her mother did not sound nearly as composed.

“SAMANTHA. Where ARE you?! What are you wearing?! Where are your clothes and WHY, in the name of all that’s good, are you anywhere near HARLEY QUINN?! Have you been kidnapped?!”

Sam rolled her eyes hard enough that Tucker faked a fatal injury across the table. She flipped him off as Tim and Duke stifled laughs.

“Yes, mother, I have been kidnapped and just answered my phone completely normally. I’m at the Waynes’,” she added quickly, before her mother could jump to conclusions.

And gave her some new conclusions to jump to instead, but who cared. Still, something seemed to be sticking in her mom’s mind.

“With Harley Quinn?” She asked suspiciously after a moment’s silence.

Which, to be fair, was kind of a good point.

“Apparently she’s a family friend? Like Grandma and Ivy,” Sam added delicately, a vicious satisfaction rising through her.

She’d gotten to say her piece at the gala yesterday and had thought she was done, but. Well. Years of restriction and so on.

She was definitely still having fun winding her parents up.

Her mom’s sharp intake of breath was clearly audible even over the phone, and then the shouting started again.

“Samantha MANSON do not even THINK about going anywhere with that woman! You have responsibilities! School! Your work! We’re coming to pick you up RIGHT NOW, and… where are your CLOTHES?!”

Alfred cleared his throat from behind them, where he’d stayed from delivering Danny’s dinner. Sam half turned and he raised a brow, inclining his head slightly.

She scooted her chair out of the way to let him get closer to the phone, waving a hand.

“If I may interject,” Alfred said calmly, not a trace that anything was even slightly amiss, “the young lady’s clothes are in the dryer at present. They will be finished shortly.”

Another long silence. Her mom probably realizing that Sam had her on speaker. And that she would still be on speaker the next time she spoke.

Finally she choked out a terse, “thank you. I do hope she has been behaving herself. We will be there to pick you up in half an hour, Sammy, and we will Have Words.”

Which Sam kinda doubted, given where the hotel was and how long it had taken Danny and Bruce to get back, but time would tell.

At least they weren’t hiring a helicopter.

It sucked to have to leave, but she’d have needed to head out soon anyway. Her flight back to university would be leaving this evening, and at least this way she could hang out with the others until her parents arrived.

No reason not to needle them more though.

“Aw but mom, I’m having such a good time hanging out with Cass,” she sighed, switching from Party to Heartfelt Woe expertly.

Down beyond Steph, Cass stifled a giggle. It clearly sent Sam’s mom into another spiral of conflicting emotions; delight, hope, ecstasy, and ongoing horror at the presence of Harley.

Who, technically, was no longer present in the room, but telling her mom that would only make her feel better, so Sam wasn’t gonna bother.

Honestly, if she wanted to run away and be an ecoterrorist with Pamela Isley, she could just ask Grandma to text her. She didn’t need kidnapping.

Still, apparently the risk of a close contact with Poison Ivy outweighed her mom’s desire to see her cozy up with the Waynes.

It’d have been real sweet if it had been a worry for Sam’s health instead of a worry about what Sam would do to other peoples’ health. The lack of trust stung, truly.

“We’ll be there in half an hour, Sammy. Get your clothes back on and say thank you for having you,” her mom warned, tone sharp and clipped.

And then hung up the phone before anyone could argue, because while she never used to listen to Sam before, she did somehow still know her. Ah well.

Sam sighed, stuffing the phone back into her borrowed pocket.

“Guess my parole has ended. I’ve gotta get back for my next semester anyway, but you have my number?” She asked Steph, looking from her back to Cass.

Both women nodded enthusiastically, Steph sighing and slumping forward into the table.

“Do you really have to go? Harley probably won’t be done with Brucie by then, you’ll miss the best part!”

But in all honesty, Sam wasn’t too upset about that. She’d made her feelings perfectly clear via thermos, and if Jason wasn’t satisfied with Bruce’s real apology she could always come back.

So she shrugged, grinning.

“Guess it’s my turn to get the video recap once it’s all over. You guys’ll film it for me, right?” She asked, looking from Danny to Tucker.

Both of whom gave her a thumbs up.

“We should make a new group chat,” Tucker mused eagerly, already pulling his phone up, “one for all of us.”

“Then we’d know which galas you were coming to!” Steph agreed at once, her own phone magically appearing in hand.

Dick snickered, leaning back in his seat.

“Said like Steph’s ever let Bruce drag her to one against her will,” he teased and Steph flipped him off.

“Hey, if you’d had the good sense not to let him adopt you you wouldn’t have to do them either,” Steph told him primly. Dick rolled his eyes.

“I’m his ward, not adopted,” he argued mostly futilely, and Sam snickered.

“And still have to go apparently. Doesn’t the ward thing end once you’re a legal adult?” She asked innocently.

Dick gave her a deadpan stare.

“Ma’am, if you want to try and wrest an orphan from the hands of Bruce Wayne you be my fucking guest, I gave up years ago.”

Which, fair. Their rifts had been legendary enough to make the circuit. She toasted him with her phone and settled back.

“Point taken. If being a cop didn’t make him give you up nothing will,” she added slyly, and Dick mimed grievous injury, slumping forward onto the table as the others laughed.

Grinning her triumph, Sam turned back to Alfred.

“So if you just show me where the laundry room is I can grab my clothes?” She offered, trying yet again to be helpful.

Being from a rich family didn’t mean having no damn manners, no matter how often it looked like it.

The old man gave her another of his extremely arch expressions, an eyebrow rising as if to question her impertinence. He had to be fucking with her.

“I shall bring your clothes to the downstairs bathroom on this hall when they are done so that you may change, Miss Manson,” he said coolly.

She’d never heard anything like it.

It didn’t sound like he was upset or offended the way people usually did when their voices iced over that sharply. Just… not an ounce of wiggle room.

Not a sliver of a hint that anything he was saying would not happen exactly as he’d decreed it. He sounded more imperious than a king, and she’d seen those.

Sam kinda imagined that’d be what Clockwork would sound like if she ever met the guy.

Duke misinterpreted her decidedly impressed stare with a wry chuckle, apparently misinterpreting her expression.

Fair, since he couldn’t know she was comparing him to the living manifestation of Time.

Well. Ghostly manifestation. Same difference.

“Miss Manson’s probably the best you’ll get out of him,” Duke said almost apologetically, grinning. “It’s gonna be that or Miss Samantha.”

Which admittedly was enough to make her turn to face him, curiosity peaked.

“What do you mean?” She asked, glancing back up at Alfred.

She couldn’t read anything but serenity in his face, but mild amusement practically radiated off him. She’d have to ask Danny what he saw in his aura.

Dick took this one too, sitting back in his seat and grinning at her.

“Alfie’s serious about the whole “proper titles and full names” thing. I’ve been trying for almost twenty years to make him call me “Dick”, and I think he’d be slower to give that up than Bruce’d be to unadopt me,” he explained cheerfully, arm tossed over the back of his chair.

Alfred treated him to a slowly raised eyebrow too.

“As you say, Master Richard,” he agreed placidly and Sam pressed her lips together on a smile.

She didn’t have to turn around to know exactly what face Danny would be making. The last thing he needed was another scary old man full naming him.

And right on cue…

“Uh… can I specifically request Mister Fenton then?” Danny asked and sure enough when she turned, yup, he even had his hand in the air like a child.

Alfred treated him to that calm stare as well.

“May I ask why, Mister Daniel?” He asked, clearly prodding despite every line of both face and posture oozing nothing but polite respect.

Danny fully flinched, which was interesting. He barely reacted whenever Vlad said his name.

Sam adjusted her opinion of Alfred along a couple “scarier than Vlad” levels.

“I have name-related trauma from another billionaire who refuses to call me anything but that,” Danny admitted sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s a really not-fun association.”

“Vlad again?” Tim asked from across the table, sounding sympathetic.

Danny pulled a face at him, sort of grimacing more than a smile.

“Oh yeah. And let’s just say he also does it in super bad situations, so I’d be happier to just never hear it again.”

Sam peaked back over her shoulder at Alfred, wondering what he’d do with this news.

If Danny was gonna be a fixture in Jason’s life (and let’s be honest, he’d be a fixture in Jason’s bedroom by the end of the month), and Jason was a fixture in Alfred’s… they’d see more of each other.

Everyone knew Bruce had been basically raised by Alfred. If he was half as emotionally constipated…

But there was an actual human expression on the old man’s face now, and it looked a damn sight like shame. He cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him.

“My apologies, Mister Fenton. Would you perhaps prefer Mister Danny?” He asked, which would have seemed completely innocuous on its own.

Dick slammed both fists into the table, making half the table burst into giggles.

“Fucking SERIOUSLY?! Is it just me! This is bullshit Alfie!” He declared dramatically.

Tim looked equally gobsmacked, jaw on the proverbial floor as he stared at Alfred, and even Steph looked put out and impressed.

Danny, deeply confused but relieved, stuck his tongue out at Dick.

“Hey, if you want another overly possessive and creepy billionaire determined to control your life you’re welcome to take him off my hands,” he declared smugly, and Sam snorted a laugh.

There was a decided devilry in young Damian’s face too, which vanished almost immediately after it appeared as the youngest spoke up.

“Honestly, Richard, you must admit that Danny’s situation is decidedly more grave than your own,” he said simply, a strong undercurrent of smugness under the words.

Tim threw both hands into the air so hard he almost tipped his chair over.

“Him too?! Come the fuck ON!” He proclaimed to the world at large as Duke snorted half a glass of water out of his nose in a choked laugh.

Tim gave him a hearty slap on the back that was probably supposed to help, the younger boy still wheezing and gasping for air, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him.

There was clearly something of an inside joke going on, and it wasn’t exactly a complicated one.

Danny had already settled back in his seat, perfectly happy with the consternation he’d caused, and Sam joined him.

Watching the dramatics of the extended Wayne clan was even better at home than it had been at the gala. For a show this good, she’d have bought tickets.

———————

Damian will probably go straight back to last names, but even he has that secret Wayne ability to commit to the bit 😏

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion

Oh shit we lost someone today I swear @blacksea21090 used to be taggable :( that’s not a fun discovery

#danny fenton dead and loving it #wip wednesday #chapter 11 i think #second excerpt #sam again!!! sam manson stan account #just a lil lick and some lil fuckery 😏#shit i gotta go catch up on my comments if it’s nearly new chapter time

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devondespresso · 10 months

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WIP Weekend!

Tagged by @stobinesque 💕💃💖

THE RULES

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

WIPs

1. The Steve Henderson AU i might actually finish who knows anything could happen

2. Claudia Henderson Canon Character Masterlist

3. Dustin season 3 custom funko pop keychain

4. Chrissy Cunningham custom funko pop

(im defintiely not cheating by adding my irl figure customizing wips because i just have 2 written wip and and only one is actually a fic)

tagging @blushweddinggowns @nymime @wynnyfryd and @csinnamon-fox (absolutely no pressure ofc, let me know if tagging you in stuff is overstepping or anything)

SNIPPET

Im predictable. its the steve henderson au. again 💀

last wip game i actually started writing chapters instead of just planning and i honestly hate my writing a lot less than i expected to which is awesome

i was torn between sharing a internal thinking snippet vs another dialogue snippet, so i just added both

He slid down to the end of the couch and gently laid down on the shoulder that wasn't hurting. He turned his head to the ceiling to keep his temple from pressing into the couch, closed his eyes, and wrapped his arms around himself. He definitely looked pretty weird like this, legs bent and hanging slanted off the couch, body facing the ground and head facing the ceiling, but didn’t care. He could explain it away as taking a nap. Sitting weird because his legs are too long for the couch, looking up so he doesn’t get blood on it. That's good. Close enough to the truth and combined with some extra motivations to feel real enough. Fits his reputation, too: high-school boy that doesn’t care about much but polite enough to be a decent house guest. Perfectly normal.

Something poked his shoulder.

“PSSSSST. Steeeeeve, you asleep??”

“Yeah.”

Dustin snorted.

“Aren’t you supposed to avoid sleeping right after a concussion?”

He paused.

“Not sleeping, just resting man. Did you need something?”

“I'm making sure you're ok. You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

Another pause.

“Do you want company?”

Why are you offering? You have your friends right here. He thought. He peaked an eye open. Dustin was hovering slightly above him. Not crowding, really. Just there.

“Where’s Mike and Lucas?”

“They’re cleaning up Will’’s room for when he comes back.”

“...did you guys fight or something?”

“No? We’re doing great.” he answered, studying him for a moment. “I came over here to hang out with you. Because I want to.”

“Can’t promise I can hold any interesting conversations right now.”

“That's fine,” Dustin said quickly, apparently taking his response as a yes, before he dropped to sit on the carpet in front of the couch, “We can just hang out.”

#wip weekend #steve harrington #dustin henderson #steve and dustin #dustin and steve #devon's steve henderson au #steve henderson au rambles

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corvus--rex · 3 years

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Next in this bizarre collection of abandoned, semi-abandoned, and deeply sleeping wips is one that has more direct time travel. It's more in the deeply sleeping category as I'm still picking at it. It's also another Omegaverse, so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it. Also, both Lance and Keith practice polytheistic religions that have been altered to fit an ABO setting

~*~*~*~*~

A few years after the war, the Paladins made the newly rebuilt Castle of Lions their home. Shiro and Adam retired from the Garrison and into diplomatic careers for the Coalition. Pidge’s parents were still with the organization, but she and Matt preferred to be more hands-on, maintaining the places on the castle and with the now-former rebellion. The still close-knit team were still recovering from the recent bonding ceremony for Hunk and Shay, who were also staying aboard the castle, although it was still uncertain as to whether or not human and Balmeran genetics were compatible; they were just waiting on genetic compatibility testing. Lance and Keith, however, were ahead of the game. They had gotten engaged while on the way back to Earth, announcing it to Lance’s family on their return. Not wanting to wait, and with no way of knowing what would happen in their war with Honerva, they’d held a small bonding ceremony the night before leaving Earth for the second time.

Keith had it the worst when it came to post-Hunk/Shay bonding recovery. He wasn’t going to miss Hunk and Shay’s bonding for anything, even if it meant dealing with Lance’s fussing. It had gotten bad enough during the reception that both Krolia and Lance’s mother Mariana told him to sit down and let his pregnant mate be. Keith could understand where Lance’s caution came from. While their little one was only one quarter Galra, and developing as a human child would, Keith’s half-Galra physiology had other ideas, his body and hormones changing like a shorter Galra pregnancy. It meant that he needed to be monitored more closely than he would if the pup’s development and his body’s lined up. It also meant that they didn’t have a concrete due date, and that it was entirely possible he could deliver a premature pup. But at sixteen weeks Earth time, there were still another two months until they needed to watch for their little one’s arrival. They had stayed behind on Earth an extra couple days after Hunk and Shay’s bonding ceremony for some of Lance’s extended family who wanted to see them both before the pup was born. Keith was exhausted from the three days of parties surrounding the ceremony and the event itself, but they were headed back to the castle after that and wouldn’t be back for another eight months, and by then the pup would be at least two months old.

Nadia and Sylvio were excited about their cousin, and had to be reminded that Keith was tired from everything going on. Right then, they wanted to see the inside of the Altean pod the matepair were taking back to the castle. Keith and Mariana burst out laughing when Lance appeared with his niece and nephew each tucked under an arm.

He “dropped” the giggling, squirming pups in front of his oldest brother. “I think you lost something.”

“Who, me? I haven’t lost anything,” Luis said, feigning ignorance.

Still laughing, Nadia and Sylvio began scaling their mountain of a father. Once they got to hip height, he grabbed them both the same way Lance had been carrying them and took off running while mock screaming, making his pups shriek with laughter. Lance just laughed to himself and shook his head at his brother and niblings.

“Like you can talk. You know damn well you're going to be just the same with ours,” Keith called.

“Yeah, probably,” Lance admitted, walking over.

“‘Probably’ nothing, mijo. I know you will,” Mariana said, “Just don’t forget to call when that little one arrives. We’ll be praying for a safe delivery.”

Lance’s parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles all practiced Santeria, and while Lance and his siblings had been raised in it and still believed, none of them actively practiced. His lack of participation didn’t lessen his appreciation of his mother’s intentions. He would have been worried when it came to telling Keith about his family’s practices if he didn’t already know about his Omega’s neo-paganism. Keith, likewise, had been relieved when Lance didn’t immediately declare him insane and instead explained about his own family.

“Thanks, Mami. So will we,” he said, hugging his mother.

“Doesn’t matter where you are in the universe, the Orisha will hear you,” she told him, then pulled Keith in, “And so will your gods, mijo.”

“I know. Thanks, Mami,” Keith answered.

The pod’s comms chirped, and Lance disentangled himself from his mate and his mother, disappearing into the small craft. Mariana wrapped an arm around Keith’s waist and he leaned into it, fully appreciating her maternal warmth. She was one of a very small number of people who had open permission to touch him. She understood that, especially after Lance had explained about Keith’s childhood in the foster care system and that he was largely touch-averse unless you were one of a select few who had earned his complete trust. She’d earned it through being the woman she was and treating Keith like one of her own children.

She reached over, resting a hand on his growing belly. “I pray for this pup every day. You two are going to be wonderful parents. And I know that you both will be safe up there – you and this little one.”

Keith breathed a laugh. “Altean technology makes humans look like we’re still playing with sticks and rocks. I mean, on an interstellar level, we kinda are. I’ve been thinking about that lately,” he admitted, “The ‘we’ part. I’m still half-Galra. Most of the time I feel like the only places on Earth I feel like I belong are out at my Dad’s place, and here.”

“Oh, mijo. It doesn’t at all matter that your wonderful mother isn’t human, or that you share her blood. What matters is what you do with it. And both of you used your heritage to do the right thing. And now she’s leading her – your – people to a new way of thinking. You both have done so much good. Never forget that. Or that you’re family. You’ll always belong here. And not just because you're carrying my grandpup.”

“We weren’t exactly planning on this.”

Mariana laughed. “Neither was I. For any of them. None of my five children were planned. We always wanted pups, but we decided to let it happen however it was going to happen. And we were blessed with five beautiful pups.” She nudged him gently. “Tell me, do you have any thoughts on what your pup might be? I knew for all of them, even when my mother was trying to tell me that I was wrong. Especially with Lance. She was convinced he was an Omega. And then he was born all Alpha.”

Keith nodded, understanding. “Yeah, that’s apparently not just a human thing. Mom said she knew I was an Omega before I was born. I think this one is too. I’m pretty sure it’s an Omega boy. Little brat keeps moving and won’t let us see, so we don’t know for certain yet, but I feel like it’s an Omega boy.”

“Oh, Veronica was the same. We didn’t know until she was an Alpha girl until she was born. And she’s still stubborn and independent.”

{What do you think, sweetheart? You an Omega boy?} she asked the unborn pup.

Her question was answered with a sharp kick.

“Is he always like that?” Mariana asked in surprise.

“Yes. Yes he is. I’ve been feeling him moving for almost two months, but it got more intense about three weeks ago. That, apparently, is a Galra thing.”

“What’s a Galra thing?” Lance asked, walking down the loading ramp.

“How hard the pup kicks,” Keith said.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “It really is that bad. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night before because of it.”

“Now imagine how I feel! Anyway, what was the comm call?”

“Oh, right. Just Allura asking when we were planning on going back up. I told her we were finishing getting the pod packed up and we’d be leaving within the hour. Varga. Whatever.”

Mariana hugged them both again. “Don’t forget. I want to know.”

Keith’s lips twisted in an amused smile. “As soon as we do,” he said.

Lance didn’t ask about it until they were settled in the pod’s cockpit and on their way to the wormhole point. “What are we telling my mother when we know it?”

“Huh? Oh, the pup’s primary and secondary sexes. I said that I feel like it’s an Omega boy, but that we haven’t been able to confirm it,” Keith explained.

“Yeah, he’s being a little brat about it,” Lance agreed, “We will find out eventually,” he added, poking the unborn pup only to be rewarded with another kick. “See? Brat.” He stood up, stretching hard enough to pop his spine. He let his arms drop and extended a hand to his mate. “Come on. Allura’s not opening a wormhole until we’re way out of system, and I want snuggles.”

When they first packed the pod to leave for Earth, Lance had shifted a few things around in the passenger compartment, making room for Keith to set up a nest. He was worried about their pup and was trying to just be a good Alpha for his Omega. Keith was particularly hormonal that day and broke down in tears when he saw the cleared space, his favorite nesting materials neatly sitting in the middle of it. Lance had been afraid he’d accidentally done something wrong until he found himself with his arms full of sobbing, pregnant Omega telling him how amazing he was through hiccupped tears. The nest was built and stayed there until they landed on Earth, where it was taken down and rebuilt in Lance’s old bedroom, right on top of his queen bed. Now it held their scents mixed with Lance’s family’s. Lance also knew about the sweater Krolia had given Keith for the express purpose of fitting it into his nest.

Keith let Lance lead them through to the rear of the pod and got settled into the nest. Leaning back against his Alpha, Keith reached into his shirt and pulled out the crystal he always wore. A clear quartz point, with a triple moon carved from rainbow moonstone woven into the silver wire wrapping the top of the crystal. He ran his fingers over the moonstone, feeling its carved lines and points, the smooth gem comforting. He was safe and comfortable in his Alpha’s arms, tucked into their temporary nest, but he still worried. He knew better than anyone that their pup could come earlier than anyone was comfortable with, especially him. He sighed, letting the quartz drop.

“What’s up?” Lance murmured sleepily into Keith’s neck.

“I’m just thinking again,” he said, the pad of his thumb following the back of his fingers in a small line on his belly.

Lance knew what he was thinking, read worrying, about, and wove their fingers together. “I know. But even worst case, even if he is three months early, he’ll be ok, and so will you. There is literally no one else like you in the entire universe, and all of this is new to everyone. Best we can do is take it one day at a time.” He grabbed the tablet from outside the nest, checking the autopilot. “We still have about an hour before we get to the wormhole point. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Keith yawned, curling up in the nest, Lance wrapping his arms around his Omega. “Nap sounds great,” he mumbled, half-asleep already.

Lance didn’t last much longer, drifting off the second Keith’s breathing evened out in sleep.

They were woken by alarms blaring throughout the pod. Keith shot up, startled and growling. Lance went for the tablet, checking the readings from the pod’s sensors. They should still have been twenty minutes out from the meeting point, but the star map showed them being in an entirely different galaxy, the familiar Milky Way nowhere in sight. He leapt from the nest, running for the cockpit. When Keith had calmed a bit and hauled himself out of his spot and to the cockpit, Lance was at the controls.

“Get yourself strapped in,” the Alpha said without looking up, “We’re headed straight for an asteroid field and there’s no time to change course.”

Lance changed the controls to manual and the front shielding changed from opaque to transparent, showing the looming ancient debris in stunning real time. Keith sat himself in the co-pilot’s seat, fastening the 4-point harness over his chest just in time for the first asteroid to go whipping past. He wanted to take the controls, but he knew that his awkward current shape made it nearly impossible for him to fly with the deftness an asteroid field required. Lance had no such problem, weaving through the asteroid field with his usual liquid grace.

When they finally broke through and into empty space, they still had no real idea of where they were. Keith brought up the galactic map. He noted several familiar planets and systems, realizing that they were on the far side of the Andromeda galaxy. As he was relaying all of that to his mate, the pod’s comm chirped with an incoming hail. It was the castle, but something was different and they couldn’t quite put their finger on it. Lance answered the hail, Allura’s face filling the screen.

“Hey, Allura. Do you have any idea what the fuck just happened? We were on our way to the rendezvous point for the wormhole and now we’re here,” Lance asked.

Allura stared at them in complete shock. “I – I don’t understand. How are you two there? You can’t be there. You’re both here on the castle.”

Lance and Keith shared a confused look. “No. We’re not,” Keith said slowly, “We just left Earth a couple hours ago and were on our way to the spot you designated for the wormhole back to the castle.”

“Earth?! What the quiznak are you talking about?! Stay there. I’m going to tow your pod into the castle and we’ll talk about whatever prank this is.” The shock was in her voice at first, before it became almost angry. She looked back at them from her projected control screen, and then looked at them both more carefully. “Lance, how in the quiznak do you have Altean marks?”

“From you?” he answered, now totally confused. Had she forgotten reviving him after he took the full damage of an energy attack meant for her? Did she not remember that he’d ended up with sky blue Altean marks as a result of the sheer amount of quintessence she poured into him?

“That’s impossible. I can’t give you our markings. And Keith, have you gained weight?” She was still confused, but turned it to the Red Paladin.

“Not in the last three days,” he said, then glanced down and back to her, “Not that way, anyway.”

They felt the pod guided into the pod bay and land softly. “Stay there, inside the pod,” Allura said, “I’ll be right there.” The screen cut out, leaving them alone again.

“What in the absolute fuck is going on?” Keith asked.

“I wish I fucking knew,” Lance answered. “Does she really think this is some kind of over-elaborate prank? She can’t. She knows us. Knows we’re mated. Knows you’re pregnant.”

“Yeah, that was weird. Asking me if I've gained weight. I mean, I know I've put on about fifteen pounds, but that’s almost completely directly related to him. I haven’t really changed anywhere else.”

Lance sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. But at least we’re back. We can get your nest rebuilt in our suite and take a fucking nap.”

Something told Keith to leave his nest as it was, and he told Lance as much. They also decided not to get back into it while they waited for Allura. The matepair waited in the open seating, Keith nuzzling into Lance’s scent gland. It was something they’d come to realize was a side-effect of his pregnancy. He couldn’t get enough of his Alpha’s scent and would use any and every excuse to get close and scent himself, not that Lance minded it at all. It always stroked his Alpha’s ego that their Omega was so devoted to them.

They both looked up when there was a failed attempt to open the rear door of the pod, which was followed by a polite knock. “Hang on a tick,” Lance called. He extracted himself from his snuggly koala of a mate with a soft kiss to his temple and a gentle hand on their pup.

Allura stood in the doorway, possibly even more shocked than she was on the call. He was still in the faded blue t-shirt and grey sweats he’d been wearing all day, not having been bothered to change. He was expecting an off-hand comment about not being up to his usual standard at most, but she just stood there, staring like he was a new race they’d never met before.

“Allura?” he asked.

“Lance, what the quiznak is going on here? Where’s Keith?” she asked when she found the words.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. And Keith’s right here. The kids were all over him this morning and he’s still pretty tired.”

He didn’t think it was possible for Allura to be any more confused or her eyebrows to arch higher, but she was and they did.

“What kids? Why should he be tired?”

Keith listened to the questions being fired back and forth. Something wasn’t adding up. Allura knew they’d been with Lance’s family. She’d met Nadia and Sylvio before and knew what kind of energy they had. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he was worn out after dealing with them. Keyword shouldn’t. But she was. He decided to see her for himself, or more to the point, for her to see him. He slid out from the seating area, turning the corner to where she and Lance were asking questions without answering any. He stepped up beside Lance, sliding an arm around his Alpha’s waist, his free hand resting on his pregnant belly.

Allura’s jaw dropped. He knew she could tell that he wasn’t faking, and that she somehow either didn’t know or had forgotten that he was four months pregnant, even if he looked farther along because of his body’s reaction.

“I – how?! How did this happen?! When?! What is happening?!”

“Allura,” Lance said softly, “Has anything happened in the last two or three quintants?”

“What? No. Nothing. And you two are here onboard the castle. Keith, you said you would be in the training deck for at least a few vargas, and Lance, you were helping Hunk in the kitchen. How did you two end up out there and in a pod I didn’t know had gone missing? And don’t tell me you were on Earth. That’s utterly impossible. We can’t go back without leading the Galra directly there, you both know that. And how have you been hiding not only your apparent relationship but also – Keith, you're pregnant! How do you expect to be able to fly the Red Lion in your condition?”

The feeling of something being fundamentally off continued to tickle Keith’s brain. An impossible thought hit him. “Allura, I need you to answer this question honestly. How long have we been out here with you?”

“What do you mean? It’s only been about three phoebs, but we’ve made good progress in the war effort. I really believe we’ll win. But you already knew that.”

Lance cut her off before she could voice a suspicion about them being spies. He realized as soon as Keith said it. “I think we somehow managed to go back in time. We really are who we say we are, and so are you. But you obviously don’t know anything about us as we are now. I can promise that we’re not hiding anything from you.”

“Well…I don’t know that we can really say that…” Keith said, trailing off. If the them that Allura knew had only been in space for a few months, then he and Lance were already seeing each other secretly. But then they decided that keeping it from their friends made absolutely no sense, even if it meant that Pidge lost her bet with Hunk.

“Ok, fair,” he said, then turned to Allura, “What was the last major event that happened related to the war? It’ll help us narrow down when exactly we are.”

“You two seem awfully accepting of this,” she said, a note of accusation in her voice.

“We – we’ve been through a lot,” Keith said, intentionally not elaborating. They had been through a lot – alternate reality, quantum abyss, the quintessence field, Bob, finding themselves inside Honerva’s mind – but they couldn’t tell Allura any of it.

“And if we tell you anything, we don’t know if or how it could affect anything,” Lance added.

“Hm, I suppose that’s true. The last major event? Well, we’ve only just found out about your Galra heritage, but after meeting with Kolivan and Antok, I have come to realize that your blood does not define you. You both have only just returned from separate missions. Keith, you and Hunk went to retrieve the Scaultrite from the Weblum-” Keith shuddered involuntarily at the memory “-and Lance, you, Shiro, and Pidge went to rescue Slav from Beta Traz. He’s still here on the castle with us.”

“Wait wait wait – Slav’s still here?” Lance asked. He turned to Keith. “If Slav’s still on board, then he would be able to help figure out what happened. Maybe find a way to get us back to our own time. And hopefully before…” he trailed off, giving Keith a look that the Omega understood. Before the pup comes.

Allura also understood what Lance hadn’t said. “Um, how – how far along are you, exactly?” she asked awkwardly.

“That’s a little complicated,” Keith answered. “The pup’s developing like a normal human, but because I’m half Galra, my body is changing and reacting as if I were completely Galra. Pregnancies are shorter. Six Earth months, or about four and a quarter phoebs, to a normal human ten months or just over seven phoebs.”

“So, you're saying that with how your body is reacting, your pup could be premature?”

“It’s a distinct possibility. But to actually answer your question, sixteen Earth weeks. Almost eleven and a half movements. It gives us no more than five movements to figure this out and get us back to our time.”

Allura nodded, making her decision. “All right. We’ll meet in the lounge first. Paladins and Coran only. Shiro…doesn’t exactly do well with Slav.”

Lance and Keith laughed. “That’s something we will never forget,” Lance said as they followed her out of the pod. Keith turned, locking it with their biometrics. Given the alteration to Lance’s DNA thanks to Allura’s quintessence infusion, they knew that it would stay locked. Their younger selves didn’t have a chance.

They walked in silence for a while, following Allura down lesser used corridors to the lounge entrance that was never used. “Is there anything you can tell me?” she asked, “About your time. How far into our future are you?”

“I don’t know that that’s a good idea, Princess,” Lance said, “You already know that we make it to Earth safely, and I don’t know how that might already be affecting our time. I understand that you want to know if it’s all worth it in the end, but I can’t tell you.”

Allura thought for a few seconds. “I understand. My knowing about the future could affect the present. It could change our decisions about things that will change the outcome of the war. And I take it that however the war does end, it’s the best possible outcome.”

“We think so. There’s a lot more going on than just Zarkon, but if you knew what, I don’t know – there are just too many variables.”

She paused in the doorway to the lounge. “I really do understand. There are more factors and facets to this war than I am currently aware of. Knowing about them now could upset the balance. Well,” she said, gesturing to the room, “Make yourselves comfortable. You already know where everything is.” Her smile was one of genuine affection for the Paladins in front of her.

“Thanks, Allura,” Keith said, maneuvering past her.

Once they were seated comfortably (“Comfort is a bit relative for me at the moment,” Keith told her with a laugh) she called for the Paladins and Coran, and them only, to come to the lounge.

Lance was the first to arrive, ready to drop onto the sunken sofa from the floor above, but stopped himself when he realized he was looking at something that looked like the back of his own head. He only knew what that looked like after a prank involving his siblings and every single mirror in the house. He saw Allura sitting at one end of the semicircle and slowed, turning to her.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Ah. We should wait for the others to arrive before we explain,” Allura said.

“Actually,” one of the unknown people said and Lance nearly choked at hearing his own voice. A little rougher and maybe older, but it was definitely his own voice. He realized the other owner of his voice was still speaking. “I think we should start now. I know we’ll have to repeat ourselves, but I know that you’re kinda nauseous right now,” a long, tan finger pointed in his direction, “And I really think this is the better solution.”

“If that’s what you –” Allura was cut off by the next arrival.

“Allura? Why are we meeting here?”

Pregnant Keith snorted at how young he sounded. His mate patted his head. “I know. We sound like babies.”

The younger Keith froze.

“Yes we’re real. No you're not hallucinating,” pregnant Keith said without moving. He knew what his younger self was thinking.

“Well, as long as we’re both here,” Lance said, “We should explain as much as we can.”

The younger Red and Blue Paladins walked around to the steps and froze again when they were suddenly face to face with themselves. Their older selves were snuggled together in the middle of the sofa horseshoe, not caring who saw them. There was too much for them to take in all at once, but they did notice Lance’s Altean marks and the undeniable fact that the older Keith was significantly pregnant.

“Yeah,” pregnant Keith agreed, “It’s a lot to unpack. We’ll tell you what we can.”

The younger Paladins sat together opposite Allura, not knowing what to say.

“As far as we can tell, we’re from your future. We don’t know how we got here. We were on our way back to the castle and decided to let the autopilot handle the flying while I had a nap and woke up to all the alarms going off about a half hour later. We realized that we weren’t where we should be and found the castle after clearing the asteroid field nearby.”

“And, I’m – or, you – I don’t even know how to phrase that,” the younger Keith stumbled through.

Older Keith just laughed. “We? Since we’re the same person, just at different ages. But yes, I’m pregnant. I'm due fairly soon, so we need to figure this out as quickly as possible.”

Both his mate and Allura noticed how he phrased himself, but said nothing, understanding why he had done it.

It was the younger Lance’s turn to stumble through a sentence. “So, you’re – and – is that –”

Older Lance snickered at his younger self. “Yes. Yes we are, and yes it is.”

“What?! But -”

“But nothing,” older Lance said, “Although that might have prevented this.”

“Yeah, sure. You try telling my heat brain that,” pregnant Keith said.

The younger Keith pointed at his older self. “That. But, how? I mean, I’ve always been so careful about taking it on time. Unless…”

Pregnant Keith shook his head. “No, that hasn’t changed. It failed. We weren’t planning on this. But it happened, and we wouldn’t change it for anything.”

“Ok, so I just need to know one thing. Not about the future, not that.” His hand went to his chest almost unconsciously. “Just so I know. That you’re really me.”

Without moving from his spot snuggled into Lance’s side, Keith reached into his t-shirt and pulled the quartz and moonstone pendant out, letting it fall to his chest. “It was the first thing I ever bought for myself after Dad died. He taught me the basics of the Craft and I've kept it up ever since. Helps me feel connected to him even though it represents Omegas.”

Younger Keith nodded, holding his own crystal. “Yeah. It does.”

Looking from his not-so-secret boyfriend, the younger Lance turned to his own older self. “And he knows about…”

Older Lance cracked an amused smile. “Yeah, he does. But wait, haven’t you already told him about us?”

“Oh, well, yeah. I guess that didn’t really make sense, did it?”

“No, not really. But the last thing Mami said to me when we left her last was that it doesn’t matter where in the universe we are, the Orisha will hear us.”

“That – that’s –”

“What Mami said when I left for the Garrison. Yeah, she still says it.”

Pidge was next to arrive, and stopped when she saw the two older versions of her friends.

“No, you haven’t been up long enough to hallucinate yet,” pregnant Keith said through laughing.

“Come sit down, Pigeon. We’ll explain once everyone’s here,” Lance said, waving her forward.

They were all surprised that it hadn’t been Shiro to appear first, but he and Hunk were next, walking in together. If they thought that Pidge had been surprised, it was nothing compared to the double take from the Black and Yellow Paladins. Allura had yet to say anything once her Paladins began filtering in, and she still didn’t, letting the two older Paladins take the lead.

“Hi, Shiro,” pregnant Keith said. He still hadn’t moved from his mate’s side, enjoying the warmth and safety of his Alpha’s touch.

“What in the almighty fuck is going on?” Shiro asked, stunned.

“We’re just waiting for Coran, and then we’ll explain.”

Shiro and Hunk sat down, among the other Paladins. Hunk seemed to look for some kind of comfort from the familiarity of Pidge, and Shiro sat himself between his Lance and the older Keith with an expression told them that he was trying very hard to wrap his head around the idea of Keith being pregnant. Coran came running in a few minutes later.

“Oh, my apologies, Princess. The scanners went all wiffeley for a few ticks. They’re perfectly fine now.” He noticed the two new additions for the first time. “Erm, Princess…” he started, scratching his cheek with one gloved finger.

“Yes. It’s why I’ve called you all here,” Allura said, “When I was alone on the bridge briefly, scans picked up a single Altean pod. When I hailed it, well…”

“It was us,” the older Lance finished, “We seem to be from your future.”

Everyone stopped, if only briefly, before exploding into questions and demands. Questions about what happened, how they got here from their own time, how did the war end, what’s it like now, did everyone survive…

Lance put a hand up, silencing the onslaught. “We can’t answer most of those questions. Anything we tell you could possibly alter the timeline, and I can’t risk that.”

Pidge pouted, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Well, we already know you two end up together. And if you're here, then you guys obviously made it out.”

Pregnant Keith shifted, sitting up but not leaving his Lance’s personal bubble. “Yes, we did make it out. And yes, we know what it’s like now. But is it worth it to know about our future when it could change your own?”

For maybe the first time in her life, Pidge didn’t have an immediate answer. Her natural curiosity demanded to be sated. The older versions of two of her best friends were sitting in front of her with the answers to so many questions. So much of her own personal stress could be relieved just by knowing if she ever found Matt and Sam. She could know the outcome of the war. But thinking about those things, she realized that Keith was right. If she did know, it would change what she did, how she could react to things. The butterfly effect wasn’t real, or, if it was, it didn’t quite work that way, but a change to a major event could lead to a cascade of differences. And there was no way to know if those would be good changes or bad. But she didn’t get to answer the semi-rhetorical question because Slav walked in at that exact moment.

“So we’re in this reality,” he said, seeing the future Lance and Keith. He narrowed his eyes at them. “You haven’t told anyone anything, have you?”

“Nothing that wasn’t immediately obvious,” Keith answered, settling back against his mate.

“Ah. Right. I need to confirm things about you two before I can recalculate probabilities, but we should discuss this –” His owlish eyes narrowed again as he looked around the room. “- privately.”

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

#my writing #abandoned wips #klance #omegaverse #abo #omega keith kogane #alpha lance mcclain #mpreg #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #keith x lance

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nbrook29 · 4 years

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💞 My ultimate Sobbe fic recs 💞

Recently, I have gone through Robbe/Sander tag on ao3 and I decided to compose a list of fics that are absolute gems for me. A few disclaimers first:

✔ I didn’t include works in progress (WIPs), however I did include fics that are only on tumblr

✔ the order of the fics below is random

✔ this is the list of my personal favorites so if your favorite fic is not on the list it doesn’t mean it’s bad or that I consider it bad - we just vibe with different things :)

✔ if there’s a fic on this list that you decided to give a shot and loved it, please remember about leaving a comment under it to let the author know that

✔ I’ve been trying to add the “read more” thingy but it doesn’t show, I’m sorry, I know long posts are annoying af

under 1k

we’re keeping it simple by noobishere | G

Summary: Sander comes over unannounced and attacks Robbe’s very person (a.k.a the one where Sander teases Robbe on Eenvoud)

This is a guaranteed mood lifter. It’s short, sweet, to the point, and oh so funny. The banter. And I’d die to see that in the show.

1k - 5k

Fizzy Colas by Foxsake5 | M

Summary: Let’s say this is a clip (hopefully not as short as the standard 1:40 of this season) with Sander as the main on a ‘bros night out’ 🍻

This author is my queen/king alright? They take a simple idea and turn it into the most lovely/cute/soft story. This fic is exactly that. Sobbe’s chemistry here is out of this world and the banter is to die for.

high for this by flowersmaze (@bowieskam) | G

Summary: In which Sander remains a Flirt™ and in love with Robbe even when he can’t feel his face after a medical procedure

The summary says it all. Loopy Sander is the cutest and funniest thing.

Pull Me from the Dark by TheOceanIsMyInkwell (@theoceanismyinkwell) | T

Summary: Sander discovers that Robbe has recently been prescribed antidepressants, and Robbe opens up to him about the night he almost stepped off the bridge. Only love will show how much they’ve grown and pull them through.

This time, the boys talk about Robbe’s mental state which is unusual in fics. This oneshot is communication 101. And this line is just 👌🏻 “But after the dust of their first kiss and their first vows of commitment settled around them, Robbe took a look at the space in which he floated and realized, somewhere along the line, that finding the love of your life doesn’t fix you.”

diminuendo by noobishere

Summary: Waking up feels like an ordeal. His eyes are heavy, arms a dead weight, he isn’t sure if his limbs are even in the right places, but eventually, Sander comes to. (a.k.a a take on how Sander fairs after Robbe left for school.)

Sander’s POV after Dinsdag 7:27. It’s a great insight into his headspace during that time. This could be a scene in the show because it fits so well.

you’re wonder under summer sky by nothingbutniall | M

Summary: Two city boys go camping. What could go wrong? (Everything, apparently.)

Those boys are a chaotic mess okay? They’re such dorks. This fic has the best kind of grumpiness there is and sobbe is written so in character here.

if we can make it through december (maybe we’ll make it through forever) by nothingbutniall | G

Summary: Robbe and Sander at the Christmas market.

Can you imagine those two dorks at the Christmas market? Well you don’t have to anymore because this fic is everything you need and more. And this line “Couldn’t,” Sander sulks. “You can’t hold hands properly with mittens on.” makes me go all gooey inside every.single.time 😍

A New Sunday Feeling by Foxsake5 | M

Summary: Sander before Robbe: Ugh, Sundays 😒 Sander after Robbe: 😏🥺🥰

The way this author writes sobbe’s intimate moments is just pure talent. They have such way with words.

memories painted with much brighter ink by nothingbutniall | G

Summary: Saint Nicholas is the perfect excuse for an evening of gifts and banter with the flatshare. (Basically all five of them being cute together, and then Robbe and Sander being cute with just the two of them.)

This is the perfect fic for an October evening, when Christmas is just around the corner and you’ve just made yourself a cup of coffee and want to read some heart-warming well-written christmassy fluff.

5k - 10k

Let’s Dance by msleviss (@sander-driesen) | G

Summary: Robbe and his friends go to a club to check out Amber’s DJ cousin.

THIS PERSON PREDICTED DJ SANDER Y’ALL. And Robbe thirsts over him. And there is an instant connection. And Robbe dances. And it’s so cute.

video phone by tokyometropolis (@luludemauryyy) | E

Summary: AKA OH MY GOD, THEY WERE QUARANTINED…except not together, because life is cruel. Thankfully it’s 2020 and when Robbe has an…er…intense dream about Sander in the middle of the night, all he has to do is press one button and Facetime him about it. Thing is…sometimes FaceTiming isn’t enough.

Look. I get that smut fics are not everyone’s cup of tea. And that’s totally fine. But. If you’re looking for a well-written smut that’s in character and where you can feel the love between the characters, this is it. Hands down. Sorry not sorry 💁🏼‍♀️

10k - 20k

our camp of dreams by robbesanderx (@robbesdriesen) | M

Summary: a summer camp!AU where robbe and sander are both co-counselors

Misunderstandings lead to pining. Teenage angst at its finest. I really like camp stories, it’s my thing.

Falling For You by silver_etoile (@azozzoni) | T

Summary: Robbe only knows one thing about football: that Sander Dreisen is the hottest player on the FC Utrecht team. When Jens drags him to a match, the last thing Robbe expects is to meet someone so perfect, and it’s all he can do not to mess it up, but will he succeed?

Sobbe in a different setting with a bit different dynamic yet still having that special something. It’s a nicely written story of the development of their relationship, first meeting, falling in love, ups and down, all the best things in fics. And Sander as a soccer player is a pretty 🔥 concept (and I think Robbe agrees).

This isn’t our first time around by noobishere | E

Summary: One moment they are in the kitchen of their shared apartment, the next, they’re in this strange but familiar room.(a.k.a the au in which they accidentally go hopping through multiple universes)

The universe takes matters into their own hands and shows those silly boys that they are meant to be. Sign me up for the ride.

Coffee and Croques by peaceoutofthepieces (@peaceoutofthepieces) | G

Summary: Sander works at the on-campus coffee shop with Eliott, and he might just have a crush on the cute boy in the brown coat.

I’m a sucker for coffeshop fics. There is just something so good about them. This one is the coffeshop!AU that sobbe deserves. Oh the pining, and the secretive looks, the silly boys, and a pinch of Elu. Me likey ☕

The finest of the meadow by allforyoumylove | M

Summary: The universe brings two lonely boys together in a flowering meadow. They fall for each other fast and hard among delicate daisies, warm summer breezes, and shooting stars.

This is magical. My comment on the work was “So soft, so beautiful, so THEM, ugh.” and I MEANT that. This is just the right amount of sweetness. This is a must read. I’m not messing around.

two side of the same coin series by MajorAccent (@acespaceacepilot) | E

Summary: the valleys and mountains of sander’s bpd

How the boys handle Sander’s ups and downs. Robbe being the best boyfriend ever. I love how good he is for Sander, being there for him, not treating him like a baby, and not controlling him. How much he tries to make it at least a little bit easier for him. If you don’t want to read explicit stories, at least give the first part a try since it’s not E rated.

Zaterdag 9:58 by Foxsake5 | M

Summary: What happened after the croissants dropped to the floor 🥐🤭💕

I meant it when I said Foxsake5 has great way with words. Every single piece of theirs is just “chef’s kiss”. This fic is a definition of a domestic fic. Oh, and it happened. Totally. It’s my headcanon now.

its an unrequited love by eggsntoast | G

Summary: Sander works part-time at a museum every Sunday. Robbe is a frequent visitor.

A Sander POV fic. I was sold from the beginning. The development of their relationship here is so cute, and they’re being so stupid with their pining instead of just talking to each other and you just want to shake them but at the same time you’re rooting for them so hard. Oh and did I mention pining?

20k+

Jij Verliest series by ravenbrenna09 (@djsander) | M

Summary: For the past three months, Robbe’s life—and what it once was—had been stripped away and rearranged. Now, if anything, his life had become a bit repetitive: homework, stream, ignore Thomas’s Instagram, repeat. But one Friday evening, Robbe meets a hurricane in the form of a platinum-haired tattoo artist who just might show him everything that he’s been missing.

This is a long series okay? But oh so worth it. It’s captivating and you don’t want to stop until you finish. And once you finish you’re sad it’s over even though you’ve just spent 8 fucking hours reading it. It’s amazing. But you probably know that because it’s quite popular (rightfully so). The best thing is that you expect it to go bad halfway through because it’s difficult to keep the quality on the same level in a fic that long. But it doesn’t.

Visitations by lucidpantone (@lucidpantone) | E

Summary: Does Robbe and Sander’s relationship survive into adulthood. This fic takes place in two simultaneously timelines: the past and the present.The present occurs in one entire day. Both timelines are completely out of chronological order. Everything is in clips.You can be dropped in at anytime of the day in any timeline. So clip by clip you will need to piece together what happen to Sander & Robbe and why the present looks the way it does and what happened in the past that got them there.This love story is a journey. So be prepared.In the words of one of our Even’s. It’s a complicated love story between complicated people.

This is not a regular fic. The author put so much thought into it, there are so many gems, so many little things that you have to pay attention to because it.all.matters. And there is not one interpretation. Don’t you just love when a story forces you to think and use your brain? Cause I do. Not gonna lie: this story hurts, and like the author says themselves, it’s a journey. But oh my god get in because it’s amazing. And the ending is just sjsjsjsjsddhdhsdsgdsg 🤯

the night we met by themoongirl (@dearsander) | T

Summary: Robbe Ijzermans has a brain that won’t let him sleep, a chest that feels far too heavy and thoughts that never stop.During his first year of college he meets Sander Driesen. Robbe finds what he never went looking for.

A college AU. This fic is a journey of pain and fluff and humor. It has awesome friendships. And sobbe falling in love. And liminal spaces. I read it a while ago so I don’t remember it as well as the others but you know what? I still remember that it was great and I’m lowkey happy I don’t remember it that well because now I can go and read it again.

The Stars Look Very Different by @peaceoutofthepieces

Summary: Robbe is bored. He’s bored of listening to his friends talking about girls, and his other friends making out, and no one ever doing anything. He’s tired of having to put in all the work, of making his own fun. He’s tired of feeling nothing so he doesn’t have to feel like nothing. His party stunts are pushing the limit, his thrill seeking beginning to worry even his friends, and his carelessness is toeing the line of dangerous.

He’s a little tired of being ‘dangerous’, too.

Sander may or may not have a crush on the older boy with the apparent death wish. He wouldn’t mind a little danger.

Once I started reading this fic, each day I was waiting for an update at the edge of my seat which was a feeling I expected from s4 that did not deliver. TSLVD definitely delivered. My favorite sobbe social media AU

Ziggy Stardust Series by skamsnake (@skamsnake) | M/E

A collection of fics taking place throughout the season. Most of them are E rated so be aware of that but it’s a really cool mixture of fluff and spice *fans myself*

#wtfock #sobbe #robbe x sander #wtfock fanfic #sobbe fanfic #SHOW UP IN THE TAG

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withbroombefore · 4 years

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(Putting this here because I am not starting another WIP on AO3 until I finish the current one. It’s intended to fall sometime after Coda, but it can also stand alone as a Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji reconciliation, of sorts, post-canon. Mostly it’s just Wei Wuxian yelling at them both, and then there’s hugging.

Content note: discussion of Wei Wuxian’s suicide.)

Wei Wuxian finally loses his temper, as much as he ever does with either of them these days. “What is going on with you two?” he demands. “I assumed it was something boring and political, but this is ridiculous!”

Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng stare at him, then exchange a brief glance of intense confusion before remembering that they aren’t friends and never will be. Wei Wuxian crosses his arms and waits. When neither of them say anything, his irritation shifts into puzzlement, then concern as he looks at their faces. “Lan Zhan,” he says, quietly, uncrossing his arms and moving into Lan Wangji’s personal space. “I truly don’t understand. What did I miss?”

Cheater, Jiang Cheng thinks. It’s definitely cheating, even though he’s sure that the trust and concern radiating from Wei Wuxian are real. It certainly works on Lan Wangji, who swallows hard and says to the ground, low, “When you, in Nightless City—he is the reason you—” he can’t finish the sentence. Jiang Cheng looks away, feeling his jaw tighten. It’s true enough; he has known that for nearly half his life.

Wei Wuxian says, “Lan Zhan, what the fuck.”

Jiang Cheng looks back, startled: if Wei Wuxian has ever used that tone with Lan Wangji before, it has not been in his hearing. Lan Wangji has lifted his head and is staring at Wei Wuxian with similar astonishment. Presumably he expected—dreaded—the same slow agonizing conversation that Jiang Cheng did, gentle explanation and probably forgiveness or whatever. The conversations are familiar, now, but they have been avoiding this one: some things are simply unforgivable. Jiang Cheng knows this is one of them. If Wei Wuxian has chosen to forget it and move on instead, it is far better than he deserves.

It becomes rather immediately clear that this is not going to be a gentle conversation. It is possible, Jiang Cheng realizes, that it isn’t going to be a conversation at all; Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem particularly interested in engaging in dialogue. He is regarding Lan Wangji with the closest thing to real anger that has passed between them since they were fifteen years old, Jiang Cheng is pretty sure. “Jiang Cheng did not kill me,” Wei Wuxian snaps.

Lan Wangji turns and looks at Jiang Cheng with the cold fury of sixteen years’ hatred. “He might as well have,” he snarls. Jiang Cheng flinches with it, but he lifts his head and glares back. The words have lain unspoken between them for their entire adult lives, but he is not going to turn away from the truth of it now.

Wei Wuxian says, “What?”

“It was his fault,” Lan Wangji says. “I could have saved you, if he hadn’t stopped me.”

Jiang Cheng closes his eyes and clenches his fists. He does not expect the quick footsteps that cross the room and stop directly in front of him. “Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian says, and oh, he is furious. Well, at least he has a place to go when he and Lan Wangji storm out of Lotus Pier. “Is that what you think?” Jiang Cheng opens his eyes, puzzlement winning out. “Do you think it was your fault that I died?” Wei Wuxian clarifies. The question does not make any sense in conjunction with the undiminished anger in his expression.

Jiang Cheng cannot speak, but apparently his participation is not actually required. Wei Wuxian’s eyes narrow. “Right,” he says, with great intent, though Jiang Cheng has no idea for what. “Since you are both apparently inconceivably stupid and I still somehow plan to spend the rest of my life with both of you, heaven help me, I guess we’re doing this.”

Lan Wangji says, “Wei Ying,” sounding just about as lost and alarmed as Jiang Cheng feels.

Wei Wuxian wheels on him. “You can shut the fuck up,” he says. Then he darts across the room and presses a quick kiss to Lan Wangji’s mouth. “I’m sorry, dear heart. I love you. But you don’t get to talk right now, not about this.” He steps back so he can look between the two of them. “I can’t believe that my shit memory is apparently better than either of yours, but here we are. I also can’t believe that I have to say this. They let you people make important political decisions, what the fuck.” They are both staring at him now. “Neither of you is in any way responsible for my death!” Wei Wuxian shouts, flinging his hands into the air. “I know because I jumped off a cliff, how do you not remember that part? It was a very important factor in the whole dying thing!”

“I should have helped him,” Jiang Cheng says. His voice comes out rough. It is the first time he has let himself think the words, let alone say them aloud.

Simultaneously, Lan Wangji growls again, “I could have saved you.”

“I was going to die anyway!” Wei Wuxian yells. They both stop short. He scrubs his hands over his face and sighs. “Ugh. I really, really wanted to never think about any of this ever again, thanks. Lan Zhan, remember how you kept telling me that resentful energy was dangerous? Did you think it wasn’t true?” Whatever he sees in the slight shift of Lan Wangji’s expression makes his mouth twitch in a faint humorless smile. “It very much is true, and I used rather a lot of it that day.” He tilts his head. “Plus I think somebody shot me with an arrow? Whatever. The point is, I was past saving well before I went off the cliff.”

Lan Wangji is shaking his head in useless denial. “Wei Ying,” he says, and stops.

The question hangs in the air. “Why?”Jiang Cheng asks, giving it voice.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes go dull and unseeing for a moment. Jiang Cheng tries not to imagine what he is remembering. “I’d had a rather spectacularly bad day,” Wei Wuxian says. Jiang Cheng snorts, unable to help himself; Wei Wuxian blinks and refocusses and gives him a wry smile. “And I really do want to never think about it again, at least on purpose. Moving on. Are we clear then? My death was entirely my own doing, neither of you could have saved me and you’re certainly not responsible for killing me. Now, can you please stop hissing at each other every time you’re in the same room?”

Jiang Cheng swallows hard. “Wei Wuxian, I—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Wei Wuxian says. “We are not going to get all weepy about this.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes; when he looks back, Wei Wuxian wears a small but genuine smile. “That’s better.”

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng says. He takes a step forward and drags Wei Wuxian in; the hug is reciprocated, if a little grumpily. When he lets go, Wei Wuxian pats his shoulder and goes immediately to Lan Wangji. They step into each other’s arms and stay there for long enough that Jiang Cheng sighs and leaves to see about dinner.

#my fic #the untamed #cn: suicide #as in discussion of Wei Wuxian's past one #everyone is fine at this point

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eloarei · 3 years

Text

Hiatus’d WIPs: “Touch” (bnha)

I recently had a conversation with a friend/reader about how many unfinished fics I have lying around, and it made me decide to finally make a post for each one; under the assumption that I never write any of them again, I can at least link these posts at the end of the AO3 WIPs for people who are curious how the rest of the story goes. So here we have: WIP and notes for Dekumight fic series “Touch” (including unfinished next chapter) My thoughts: This was really one of my favorites for a while. There was something really fun about writing the sort of non-verbal communication they had going on, and the deep love and also awkwardness. However, the actual story of the fic doesn’t differ much from the canon plot, which makes it a little less interesting to write, and also difficult to pick up, because frankly I don’t remember shit anymore about canon. Under the cut: (8,300 words total) 3,000 words of what would be the next chapter (ending about halfway through), then a rough draft of the second half of the chapter. After that, there’s a super-rough draft/ outline of the next several chapters, followed by a bunch of notes from when I was initially planning. NOTE: Tumblr completely destroyed all formatting, so this should be full of italics, which implies thinking, but instead you’ll just have to puzzle it out. Similarly, my notes have a bunch of bolding and some strikethrough, which probably doesn’t work either. Sorry.

Takes place directly after “Retouch” (chapter 2) :

Chapter 3

It was just a few minutes later that Toshinori was hit with a spike of pleasure that he really shouldn't have been surprised by. He was finishing up some paperwork for UA though and wouldn't be getting ready for bed for a while, so instead of following through with the echo of Izuku's intense sensation, he just took a deep calming breath and willed himself to leave it alone. However, he did take a moment to send Izuku a well-timed text saying simply, | Sleep tight |. He still wasn't sure if the boy was aware of what he was doing to him, but he figured he'd just tip him off a little bit instead of asking outright. Not yet.

Izuku responded with a cute, embarrassed | ^^; you too |, and Toshinori laughed. So he hadn't expected to be called out on it, huh? Well, they could talk about it later; maybe over the weekend, if Suzuki's papers didn't scare him off. (And even then they'd probably still want to talk about at least a few things. Even if Izuku suddenly wanted nothing to do with him, even if they never saw each other again (a chilling thought), they'd still be affecting each other like this for the rest of their lives. It warranted at least a short conversation.)

Most likely, though... Most likely it would be a long conversation they'd be having, if Toshinori's impression of Inko was anything to go by. If it were just him and Izuku, who knew if they'd ever do much serious talking. It was far too tempting to just sit side by side with their hands tangled together and feel. So, it was probably good that Izuku's mother had such a strong hand in the situation-- and it was definitely good for both of them that she was such a reasonable woman. He knew she would probably bring up all the right topics (the things he still hadn't really researched; Suzuki wasn't going to be pleased with his ignorance), and ask all the right questions, and be super tactful about the whole thing, so he didn't fret about it, focusing instead on just getting through the week.

Easier said than done, he'd have told you, if you asked him at any point during those next few days, but eventually it was done, and he was standing outside the Midoriyas' apartment door with a briefcase in one hand and the other poised to knock. But before he could make a sound, the door opened, and Izuku was standing there, looking up at him with the brightest eyes.

“Hi,” he said, the simple word both enthusiastic and shy. His smile was impossibly wide, sending his freckles up into his eyes. “I, um, I could tell you were there,” he answered, before Toshinori could even ask how he'd known to open the door. Without further ado, Izuku reached out and took his hand, leading him into the apartment. They both breathed deep, relieved sighs as soon as they touched. Three days had just been too much.

Inside, Inko was doing dishes. “Oh, Toshinori, hi,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “I'll be done here in just a minute. Izuku said you have some papers for us to look at?”

“At my manager's insistence,” he explained. Guided by Izuku, he took a seat next to him at the kitchen table, their hands still joined, and set the briefcase up where his other hand could find what he needed. He pulled the stack of papers out and set them in the middle of the table.

“How's your week been?” Izuku asked quietly, as they waited for Inko to join them.

“It's been fine,” Toshinori answered, though the emotion rolling around in his chest said 'I missed you', and he was fairly sure Izuku could feel it.

The boy squeezed his hand at the feeling and replied, “Me too,” in response to the unspoken sentiment.

Drying her hands off on a dishtowel, Inko sat down across from them and gave the pair of them an appraising (but ultimately approving) look, before she slid the stack of papers over to her. “What have we got here?” she asked, apparently rhetorically, as she didn't wait for Toshinori to attempt to explain. She read through each page carefully and then passed it over to Izuku, who seemed mildly surprised but also read each one before sliding it over to Toshinori. (He skimmed them again for familiarity's sake, but he'd already read through them in detail with Suzuki a day or two before.)

Other than a 'hmm' here and there, Inko didn't make any comments until they were through the entire stack, which took about an hour. (Although she did stop to tell Toshinori to make himself at home, when she realized he might be thirsty or something.) It was a very quiet hour, and it would have been unnerving for Toshinori if he hadn't still had Izuku latched onto him, feeding him wisps of emotion as he read.

Once they'd gone through the whole stack, Inko started over from the beginning, and began to point out little details here and there and ask questions.

“I think most of it is reasonable enough,” she said. “We're not entitled to any of your income or royalties; that's fine. And we can't talk to the media about you. I'm alright with that. Izuku?”

Izuku nodded. “That's okay. I wasn't going to.”

“But this part here--” She pointed at it. “--says we're not allowed to tell anyone about the situation at all unless we have express written permission. That seems sort of... broad.”

Toshinori looked at the passage that Inko had indicated. “Uh, right. I told Suzuki I didn't think it was necessary, but he claims it's a safety precaution.”

“For you,” Inko said, and she did sound accusatory, but not overly much. “What happens if we break the contract? Suing us won't get you very much.”

“I wouldn't do that,” Toshinori tried to say, but Inko continued on.

“What if we need to tell someone and you're not around to give us permission? Like, Izuku's doctors? It just seems unreasonable. Dangerous, even. I get that you want to protect your status, but--”

Toshinori could feel Izuku begin to speak before he could hear the sound. “It's fine, mom,” he said. “It's not just for him. It's to protect us too. Remember that story a couple years ago? There was that lady who was kidnapped by villains because they thought they could use her to get to her husband?”

Inko pursed her lips, a slightly sour face. She clearly remembered the story, and how the woman had been tortured just to hurt her husband. Toshinori remembered it too; it had made him sick. It would have made anyone sick, especially anyone who was close to their soulmate.

“That's probably what Mr. Suzuki was thinking of,” Izuku added softly, and Toshinori could tell that he didn't quite believe in Suzuki's altruism (hard for him to, when he could feel Toshinori's own skepticism about the man), but that he did still believe the reasoning was fair.

A bit subdued, Inko nodded. “Well of course we won't go around telling everyone. I... just think it's a little silly to have to get it in writing like this.”

“You're right,” Toshinori said, shaking his head. “Leave that one, then. I'll get Suzuki to take it out.”

It went like that for another hour or so, Inko pointing out things she wasn't sure about and Toshinori mostly telling her to just cross them out, because honestly, Suzuki was going to be pissed, but who cared? There was no one in the world who mattered more right now than Izuku, and that necessarily made his mother pretty important too. Toshinori would do whatever it took to make them comfortable, and his manager could just deal with it.

By the time they were done, they'd tossed out about half of the papers and scratched through parts of most of the rest of them, and were left with a reasonable list of promises that read roughly like this:

The Midoriyas could not talk to the media about All Might, and they couldn't knowingly do anything that would jeopardize his career, and Izuku couldn't act in any way that would hinder All Might's ability to do his job as a hero. That was pretty much it, though the basic meaning was hidden in so many superfluous details that it had their heads spinning.

As for Toshinori, he would not infringe upon the Midoriyas' anonymity, or use his status to coerce or extort them in any way, and he would be responsible for any financial issues that resulted from their connection (including, but not limited to, doctor's bills and lawyer's fees).

Honestly though, they all knew that these were pretty moot points. If Izuku or his family broke any of these rules, there was really nothing that All Might's lawyers could do about it. And if All Might failed to uphold his end of the bargain, the Midoriyas could take him to court for it, but it would be inviting far more trouble than it was worth.

More than anything, though, they trusted each other enough for this whole paper-signing situation to be mostly just laughable. Getting the papers to Suzuki was not a high priority (well, he might have thought so, but he was a failure of a manager if he actually expected such a quick turnaround, after all these years), so Toshinori didn’t hurry off, instead offering to take the two out for lunch. “Oh, thank you, Toshinori,” Inko said sweetly, “but I’ve got some work to finish up. Why don’t you two go out and take advantage of the nice day?” At his elbow, Toshinori could feel Izuku’s slight surprise echoing against his own. Although Inko had only been supportive so far, they still couldn’t help expecting that she was going to try to keep them apart-- though maybe they were just projecting their reasonable fears about society onto the only other person who knew just yet. But whether or not she might be more strict about them seeing each other in the future, she seemed fine with it just now, and they were grateful. “Thanks,” Izuku told her with a sunny grin, while Toshinori nodded in agreement. “Want us to bring you anything?” Inko shook her head. “Just be back before it’s late! And stay safe!” They promised they’d be careful (in every possible way), and left the apartment together, walking close by but with their hands in their respective pockets-- the safest place for them, when they would have wandered if left to their own devices, gravitated naturally toward each other and the fulfilling feeling they provided. “So what did you think of the papers?” Toshinori asked, a relevant icebreaker to start conversation once they were on their way. “I hope they didn’t seem too strict.” Izuku grinned, and drifted close enough to bump their arms together. “They seemed fine,” he said, apparently unbothered by them. “Honestly, I’d sign whatever I had to. It’s already crazy that I even got to meet you. So, whatever I have to do now… I’ll do it.” That smile was an absolute slice of sunshine, and if Toshinori wasn’t warm just by their proximity, it would have done the job.

They wandered for some time, down towards the city center where they might find something for lunch (maybe something other than ramen, so they could expand the list of foods they knew they both liked), chatting a little. The topics were never anything consequential; Toshinori thought Izuku was still a little nervous around him and wasn’t sure what to say. He understood the feeling, even without a physical link, rather feeling that way himself. But Izuku also had the natural anxiousness of the young and quirkless (he remembered feeling that way), so Toshinori tried to guide the conversation in comfortable directions. Heroes were always a safe topic, and one with no end of iterations. They’d walked a few casual miles, keeping their attention slightly on their surroundings in case a good restaurant caught their eye, and were in the middle of discussing Kamui Woods when something else caught their attention. In the distance a block or so, there was a crowd gathered, their exclamations and worried murmurs rising to a concerning pitch just as an explosion shook the area. Many of the citizens shrieked and ran for cover, but plenty of them were still huddled around in a nervous fashion, like people observing either a train wreck or a predator from which prey could have no hope of escaping. Toshinori became aware of Izuku latching on to his arm more than he strictly felt it, the young man’s concern bleeding over into him and mixing with his own. He could feel Izuku’s natural empathy coming strong through the connection, something he’d only glimpsed the times before. There was something happening nearby, something that frightened and worried everyone; should he help? What could he even do? Should he stay out of the way? After all, they’d only just found each other, and to lose Toshinori now would be devastating; to be found out might be even worse! Izuku would hate himself if he ruined All Might’s career by causing a scandal, but he couldn’t just sit back if someone was in danger and, ahh, if only he had powers, if only he could do more than cling and be a burden to his soulmate and-- Oh, Toshinori thought. These were not his fears; they were Izuku’s. It was Izuku’s desire to help whoever might be in trouble, his desire and his desire and that was right, he wanted to help too. Of course he did. He was a hero, wasn’t he? There was only so worried he could be for his own safety and his reputation and Izuku shouldn’t worry either because it would be okay and I am here and it was amazing-- he really was the right one for him. The perfect soulmate, and maybe something more, but that was something he could think of later. The screams were louder now, and the worried murmurs too, and as an explosion shook the windows of a building half a block down they agreed they couldn’t turn away, not when there was a chance they could do something, anything. Even if there was no power left, it was still his duty, and he didn’t have to do this but yes he did. “You’re at your limit?” Izuku asked, glancing up at him through his fluffy bangs, concern bleeding out of him through more than just their physical connection. It couldn’t have been much more than a guess, but from his expression Toshinori could see that Izuku somehow knew it, like an intuition.

He nodded. “Essentially,” he replied. He wasn’t sure how to explain it in detail, but hoped a more nuanced understanding of it would flow through their bond. “I always have a reserve amount, but it’s… not much.” Izuku seemed to get it. “Maybe we can just… go see, if there’s something we can do.” That seemed fair; that seemed like the least they could do. Maybe there was something, some way to help. Inspired by each other, they jogged over to the scene and the crowd surrounding whatever trainwreck was keeping their attention so strongly. Toshinori froze down to his veins when they saw what was the cause of the commotion. It was a mutant; the same mutant he was sure he’d captured just the other day. Yes, he’d been distracted by Izuku’s presence, but he distinctly remembered turning the water bottle full of sludge over to the police before absconding with his new soulmate up to the rooftop. Izuku’s arm brushed Toshinori’s as he stepped closer in a subconscious bid at safety. How had the mutant escaped? Was it perhaps a different man after all? A twin, or someone with the same quirk? Had Izuku done something wrong? Distracted All Might from his task and caused the villain to escape? Was it the police’s fault? He glanced down at Izuku, who glanced up at him, and Toshinori shook his head. It’s not your fault, he said wordlessly, or Don’t worry about all that. And Izuku nodded, back on track after a momentary lapse of focus. How and why the mutant was here was of little concern. They both turned back to the scene at hand. “Okay, stand back and I’ll try to handle this,” Toshinori said, looking down at Izuku in a way he hoped was reassuring, and knowing anyway that he didn’t have to; Izuku could feel his determination, and every little ounce of worry that things might not go as planned. It was a nuance that Toshinori had learned to deal with in his life, and it was something Izuku was going to have to deal with as well. (Though given the boy’s penchant for overthinking, perhaps it wouldn’t be that much of a trial after all.) “Do you have enough energy?” Izuku asked nervously, obviously not wanting… well, all the things that could go wrong if Toshinori ran out at the wrong time. Toshinori laughed in soft self-depreciation. “Probably not,” he admitted. “But I’ll do what I can. That’s what it means to be a hero, right?” With Izuku’s arm still brushing his, he could feel the boy’s admiration, and it doubled in him and gave rise to a heroic rush he didn’t think he’d felt for years. Still, he waited for the right moment. That was another thing about being a hero; you couldn’t rush in blindly (not with his level of experience, anyway). He watched as the mutant swung his head around, like a cornered animal watching viciously for its enemies, and he could just about guess when it was going to let its guard down. Almost… he thought, his muscles tensing in anticipation. But just as he was about to spring forward, he felt a twinge of panic from Izuku’s side of the connection. It was a spike of recognition. Kacchan!

The roughest of drafts:

Izuku freaks out and runs to try to rescue him and they're all surprised when he actually manages to do some slight damage to the mutant; it's not enough to defeat him, but enough to stun him into dropping Bakugo, at which point Toshi transforms and rushes to finish him off. Tl;dr, turns out that a very tiny amount of Toshi’s power has become available to Izuku. (Make some note of the pain aspect, Toshi feeling Izuku’s pain from using OfA.)

Afterward, when Toshi is talking to reporters (and Izuku has managed to avoid at least a little of the reprimanding from canon, due to appearing to have some power) Izuku can feel the discomfort, Toshi’s power draining. Perhaps he plays the fan, comes to shake his hand as thanks for saving him and they're both a little surprised that it eases the discomfort, seems to give Toshi back a little strength. Izuku had just done it as an instinct, but in light of what had just happened with the power sharing, they're both very curious how this whole soulmate thing is going to work.

Toshi excuses himself from the crowd before too long and goes to find Izuku. He finds him being confronted by Bakugo, who knows that something is strange but doesn't know what (and is upset like in canon about Izuku trying to help him). Toshi tries to stay out of sight until Bakugo runs off, feeling that Izuku is confident enough in his ability to handle this. When they rejoin, Izuku explains who Bakugo is.

“[But enough about that.] Are you okay?”

They join hands. Toshi can feel that Izuku is fine but still he says, “It's you I'm concerned about. Do you know what you did back there?”

“That was your quirk,” he said, and Toshi nodded.

“Some of it, at least. Is your arm okay?”

Izuku stretched his arm out, wiggling his fingers. “It aches a little, but I'm okay. I'm just… I've never done anything like that before. It felt… kind of amazing.”

Toshi could tell that it was a little more than an ache, but that Izuku wasn't lying. It really wasn't hurting him much, and he was really feeling exhilarated. He remembered feeling like that when he first took the quirk himself.

Izuku’s side of the connection was curious and Toshi realized he could feel him thinking about his past. He debated with himself for a minute. Was this the right time to tell Izuku about his past? He would have to tell him some time, and there was no reason to wait. “I felt the same way the first time I used it,” he said. “When my mentor gave it to me. I was about your age.”

The feeling of surprise that Izuku emanated was not as much of a shock as he expected, more of a warm melting feeling, a soft realization. “You were ...quirkless? Someone gave you your quirk? But how?”

Toshi tells the story as they head back to the apartment, but they take a detour to sit somewhere and finish talking. (Way before this, Izuku texts his mom to tell her what happened and that they're fine and they'll be home in a while.) It's gotten dark by the time Toshi has finished telling of Nana and AfO and needing to pass OfA on, and they're sitting on a bench in a corner of a park or something.

“It was just an idea before,” Toshi says, “but now I'm pretty sure it's the right one. Would you be willing to take it? One for All?”

The surprise this time really is a shock, and it nearly knocks the breath out of him. “...Really?”

“You can tell I'm serious,” Toshi says with a smirk, and then he nods. “Yes. Really. It's the only thing that makes sense.”

He thinks of the reasons: he needs to pass it on, and Izuku wants a quirk, needs one to get into UA. And he's defenseless without one, a real danger with them together now. And he's already shown that he can handle it, at least a little.

“Should I think about it?” Izuku asks, looking unsure. He's probably thinking about all the things they talked about with his mother earlier, trying to be careful. But Toshi can tell he really wants it, and that's enough for him.

“If you want,” he says. “Take your time.” He knows that Izuku will say yes. (He's less sure if Inko will agree, but he knows that between the two of them, they can convince her.)

He can feel Izuku trembling, and it's with excitement he thinks. “Thank you,” Izuku says, almost breathlessly, and he leans forward and kisses Toshi, softly and quickly, and then looks him in the eyes for a short moment, twists his body in his direction more and leans in for another kiss. This one is a little deeper, lingering, not obscene but less than entirely chaste and Toshi can feel so so much through it, especially as he allows himself to kiss back. They don't take it far; Toshi can feel that Izuku knows there are boundaries, though Toshi is nervous about himself, unsure if he would be able to keep himself from crossing them, to stop when it was time. He's a bit anxious, but he's glad Izuku is reasonable, and he's excited and he's happy and they're melting into each other even though they've stopped kissing and it is finally Izuku who speaks up to interrupt them getting stuck in their twofold thoughts.

“I should get home. I have to tell my mom about all this. Am I… Can I tell her? About OfA?”

Toshi nods. “It's a big part of all of this. I guess she should know. And that'll give you a chance to talk it over with her. Decide if you want it.”

‘I do want it,’ he could tell Izuku was thinking, although maybe not in so many words. Izuku was trying to be patient and make smart decisions. He was doing his best to be worthy of being Toshi’s soulmate, and Toshi was overcome with affection for him. He hugged him close, and even more than the kissing, that was the most they'd ever felt, the most contact they'd ever made. It was less electric than kissing, but like an overblown, overexposed photo. They stayed there like that for a little while before they silently agreed to get up and go back.

The end of chapter 3, more or less.

Chapter four.

Izuku took a week to act like he was thinking about it, but in truth he'd decided almost immediately, and convinced his mom that it was a good idea (or that she should let him do it at least) on that first night, after Toshi had walked him home and said goodbye.

“Izuku! I saw on the news about that mutant attack! You're really alright? And Toshinori, and Katsuki?”

“We're fine mom! Toshinori saved us. But…” A pause. “With dad, have you ever… accidentally used his quirk before?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, looking a little worried. “I can feel when he's using it, but i've never breathed fire myself.”

Yeah, it wasn't anything he'd ever heard of before. Maybe it was because most people's quirks weren't that strong. Maybe it was because he was quirkless. Maybe… well there were a lot of reasons it could be. It didn't matter that much why; it had happened, and they'd both felt it.

“I used it. All Might’s power. Just a little bit of it.”

“Are you okay?”

He said he was fine, he thought, but Inko was skeptical. She remembered some times when he was younger, when he thought an injury was less serious than it was. She convinced him to go to the doctor tomorrow and he agreed, dismissively as he was so invested in telling her about Toshinori’s offer. She's a bit nervous about the idea but it doesn't take long for her to give in.

At the doctor's tomorrow (maybe only mentioned, not a scene) it turns out that Izuku did in fact fracture a bone in his arm. (Is a cast needed for that? Probably not.)

Later that afternoon, Toshinori texted him and asked if he was okay; his arm felt a little off. Izuku responds casually that it was just a fracture and he's fine, and Toshi fusses over him a little, apologizes for putting him in that situation. Izuku really is not bothered by it. Toshi doesn't ask if Izuku has decided and Izuku wonders if he's changed his mind. A week later, he says that he's decided to take OfA, if he's still offering it, and Toshi says that he'd be happy to give it to him, if he's really sure. But! There's no way Izuku is going to be able to handle it in his current state. They begin to train (though not until Izuku’s fracture heals). In the meantime, Izuku continues school, and Toshi continues work, and they see each roughly every weekend. Sometimes they'll meet out for lunch or sometimes Inko invites Toshi over for dinner.

(Cover some catch up. Mention Suzuki being annoyed about the edits to the paperwork etc)

It's a few weeks before they start to train, but of course it's much less covert than in canon. Inko knows exactly where they're going; Toshi has discussed it with them over dinners and such. He doesn't tell them that his plan is for Izuku to clean up the trash on the beach until they get there though.

The next several months are a more efficient training than canon. After Toshi is pretty sure Izuku has grown strong enough, they try the power-share again, and Izuku is able to start using the very tiny percentage of OfA, sometimes. It works if he's recently been in physical contact with Toshi, and fades after a minute or two. It's not enough to do anything very heroic, but it is a significant boost to Izuku’s natural strength, allowing him to move items several times his normal weight limit.

(They also find that Izuku can actually use a version of OfA that is more than twice as powerful as his tiny version, only if Toshi is currently in contact with him. However, Izuku hurt himself the first time they did that, so they avoid it until much later.)

They still don't have a perfect grasp on Izuku’s ability to handle it by the time they transfer it to him, but it's better than canon, and they do it earlier so he has more chance to practice. He has at least some ability to use it at half-power before the entrance exam (chapter 5). The only reason he hurts himself so badly there is because he freaked out and wasn't careful.

Training is pretty fun for them. It's more like play than in canon, with Izuku showing off, carrying Toshi around, silly stuff like that. He's moderately less concerned about being a hero, mostly because Toshi is so constantly encouraging so he doesn't worry about it. And he knows that even if he doesn't make it somehow, he's still got Toshi and nothing can take that away.

Aside from training, they still spend a good amount of time together. Events and holidays and such. Izuku meets Suzuki. Toshi invites Izuku (and probably Inko) to his place once or twice, though they still spend most of their time out or at the Midoriyas’ apartment. Inko politely requests that they not stay at Toshi’s place. (She isn't /too concerned, but she just wants them to know that she has some kind of expectations about how they'll handle their relationship. She half expects Izuku to go behind her back in some of those regards.)

Izuku has his 15th birthday not long after they start training (might have to look this one up) or thereabouts. He has mixed emotions about this, and about inviting Toshi to his ‘party’ (probably just a fancy-ish dinner with his mother (maybe dad too?) Since he doesn't have any friends). He wants Toshi there, of course, but he's somewhat embarrassed about still being only 15, and doesn't want to draw attention to it. On the other hand, he's also excited to be getting older, closer and closer to the age that it would be appropriate for he and Toshi to act however they liked. (This birthday scene goes in early middle of chapter.)

More holidays: Christmas, new years, Valentine's day. Maybe just slight mentions of those.

Chapter ends when Toshi wishes Izuku luck at the entrance exam. He kisses him and Izuku is a little shocked because Toshi is rarely if ever the one to initiate that sort of thing. He heads to the exam, excited and confident.

Chapter 5.

Toshi heads to UA (potentially along with Izuku), and goes to watch the exam with his fellow teachers. He's met them several times and they know about his injury and resting form, but only Nedzu knows that Izuku is his soul mate. Most of the others are familiar enough with him to know that he doesn't have one, and many assume that he's one of the few who will never have one.

When the exam starts though, they might be able to tell that he is on edge, excited but nervous. However, they are all focused as well. It's not until Izuku smashes the robot (and everyone is shocked) and Toshi reacts to the pain that they notice the connection between them. He's not incapacitated (like Izuku is) but he is distressed and in pain and having to deal with the commotion from the other teachers. (Choose one teacher to perhaps help him out.)

As soon as he's able, he goes to Izuku. (At some point he calls Inko to let her know what's happened, and she's worried and upset and he has to talk her down until she realizes that he's upset too.) In the infirmary, Izuku is knocked out, which Toshi already knew, could tell because the pain subsided very quickly. Chiyo looks up when he comes in, obviously connecting the dots.

“He made quite a mess of himself,” she tells him, pulling up a chair next to Izuku’s bed for him. She tells him the details of what Izuku broke. “But he'll recover.”

“Thank you,” Toshi says, reaching out to carefully run his hands over Izuku’s arm, laying his hand on the side of his face, thinking about if this was a good idea, etc.

Eventually, Izuku wakes up and they talk. A few people might come by in the meantime. Izuku is eventually clear to go home. Toshi takes him. Izuku asks if he passed, knowing that Toshi was there, and all Toshi can say is that he thought he did a good job, but he doesn't know for sure. (He later finds out that Izuku scored quite well, but refrains from telling him, letting Izuku get the letter from the school.)

He gets a phone call from Izuku after the letters have gone out, and he can feel a sense of excitement even before he picks up. Izuku is crying on the other end. “Why didn't you tell me I made it?!” But he is obviously extremely happy.

Out on patrol or something, Toshi can't stop grinning for the rest of the day. When someone asks him, he just says that he's excited for new opportunities.

Chapter 6

Izuku and Toshi both begin at UA. Izuku has already made friends with a few people from the exam, and of course he knows Bakugo. Bakugo is extra suspicious of him, confused about how he's got a quirk suddenly, and knowing that he's been acting strange the whole past year. He might even suspect that they're both related to izuku’s soul mate, considering the timing.

School is, of course, plenty for them to focus on, but izuku and Toshi are still very focused on each other as well. Toshi treats izuku much the same as in canon, inviting him for lunch and etc, “playing favorites”. But since the other teachers know they're soulmates (at least, some do?) they don't criticize him quite as much for it.

Toshi and izuku continue to progress in their relationship, lightly, balancing their personal and professional relationships. They act very casual around each other and have to be careful not to be too casual in front of the class.

Izuku makes friends, which is sort of new for him. He loves them and wants to be open with them about his situation, but he can't. He's thought about telling, but he knows he can't break the rules they set. It's harder when perhaps the rumor (true rumor? What do you call that?) goes around about how he was affected by the soul link pain when he was little. He can easily tell his friends that it's not bad anymore, but it's hard having to pretend he doesn't know who it is. (Also may have to decide about sub-pairings? Otherwise it will be very hard for any of the other students to talk about their experiences. If they had mates in the class (like most ships) they would likely find out very quickly.)

Most people won't immediately assume it's All Might, even if they spend a lot of time together.

Key point: they hone their energy sharing, as Toshi becomes a bit exhausted some days. Simply being in contact for a while (lunch or something) acts as a recharge for him. When the other staff figure this out, they're much more accepting of izuku hanging out in the staff lounge.

(Need to rewatch to see what the first few weeks are like.)

Maybe include some scenes with Inko.

Chapter 7

This is the USJ incident. Toshi gets caught up in work and is late to help at USJ, but less late than in canon because he feels/hears Izuku crying out for him. Don't have to describe most of the USJ events because it's from Toshi POV, but have to decide when he gets there and if it all goes more smoothly.

The way that Toshi and izuku act towards each other (calling by their first names, extreme familiarity and working together) is what starts to tip off some of the students, though it's not relevant at the time.

The encounter is a little easier this time, with the power-share (this is probably the first time they try it out seriously) and the desperation to save each other (and the others) echoing between them.

Any character who takes notice of their bond and quirk in canon is likely to notice the soul link instead.

After the incident, emotions are running high. This was the first time they were honestly scared of losing each other. They want to hold each other for a very long time. Perhaps they are seen by some of the students (who maybe chalk it up to generic relief over the situation, but would definitely file it away for later). Later, they still don't want to let each other go, and perhaps spend their first night together (not necessarily sexual or anything), Inko having not allowed them to do so before.

Emotional wrap-up; they're scared but calmed by each other's presence. They know they can handle the future together.

END? (of this particular story, probably) Brainstorming, notes, and ideas for further fics in the series

And the notes below: (my shorthand for the characters is IM = Izuku Midoriya, AM= All Might, IMmom = Inko (not shorthand in that case I know lol, I think I didn’t want people reading over my shoulder)) >>>"Touch" sequel

A lot of people actually expressed an interest in this, so let me jot down my ideas-- as well as their ideas.

AM and IM have met, and now keep in touch. How has this changed their lives? Well now whenever they feel a strange pain, they'll call or text each other to make sure they're okay. They're both aware of what their relationship would be, if IM was older, and so is his mom, and so is pretty much everyone else that knows. In fact, most people assume that they're 'together' anyway, and it causes some tension. They try to keep it mostly under wraps, but it's nearly impossible. IM's friends and classmates are sure to notice, and AM's manager thinks maybe they should just come out with it. For their part, IM and AM just want to enjoy each others' presence and keep their moral concerns personal. IM is of course more brave (between the two of them), while AM knows he's 'supposed' to refrain. In public, they're both very good about it.

Some time in the future, after they've really adjusted to each other, and the drama (at least from their friends and family) has died down, they take to being heroes together, as they at some point realize how much more receptive they are when they're together/touching.

Questions! :

--Does IM still get OfA? (I'm leaning towards yes? Most of the rest of the story wouldn’t make sense if he didn’t.)

--How do friends/family react? Some people are jealous? BK particularly? IMmom is as supportive as possible, but she still worries for IM. As time goes on, if IM get OfA, she worries for AM too. (What about AM's cop friend?? I dunno, haven't thought about him much.)

--How do media/people react? Manager wants to tell, because he knows people will find out and it's better to come out with it before they do. But AMIM want to stay private. Perhaps at the tournament, it is no longer possible to avoid media attention. Someone notices AM's discomfort when IM fights TS, notices IM look to the stands for AM before doing something reckless. When they find out, it's all anyone wants to talk about. AM's thin form becomes very useful for avoiding the media.

--Perhaps around then, IM is kidnapped to be used against AM?

--When things are calm, AMIM often text each other just to talk-- sometimes in the night. "I miss you" IM texts. "Is that what you were thinking of?" AM asks, aware that IM is awake and wound up, and winding him up too. This is before they've really worked out how things are supposed to go between them. IM is bold; AM is holding himself back.

-- IM goes to UA, begins to use quirk. -- AMIM work harder at managing IM’s abilities than in canon, because its effects are more obvious on them. -- AM starts at UA as a teacher; AMIM have to hide their link. IM has not told anyone. AM had to tell the staff. -- When the villains attack, AM gets there sooner, as he’s tipped off by their link. Things happen about the same. -- (Should I bother to include that part if nothing is significantly different? Leaning towards no. Maybe just touch on it.) -- At the tournament, that’s when people take notice of AMIM’s link. (IM’s friends have already begun to notice.) -- After that, it’s all anybody wants to talk about. AMIM are in the spotlight, though UA tries to protect them. -- The media begins to gossip about them, some piecing the puzzle together about their quirks. Some guess that IM is AM’s son (and has inherited his quirk). (It’s not unheard of for family to be platonic soulmates.) -- Manager makes them come out with an official statement finally, despite their reluctance. -- IM receives many invitations to intern with heroes. For safety’s sake, they turn them all down, except Torino. -- IM goes to train with Torino, covertly, while AM stays behind to deal with the PR mess. -- Things happen about as usual. Maybe only touch on this part as well? Not super relevant to the AU. -- IM thinks about AM during the fight with HK, and AM wants to get to him, knowing something is wrong, but knows he won’t make it in time. (Remember, “Touch” was 3rd person limited-omniscient. POV can be from IM, AM, and other relevant characters.) -- Would AM be allowed to test IM during the midterms? Maybe gloss over that part. Especially towards the end of Season 2, go more vaguely into the ending, to avoid making it obvious that you have no idea what happens after that. XD; Isolate the emotional core of the story (the emotional drama or problem) to solve in the final scenes, even if it avoids canon entirely. That’s preferable, in fact. Points to write, unrelated to canon occurrences: : -- AMIM want to spend a lot of time together, but they must balance their responsibilities. IMmom is pretty understanding and allows them a lot of freedom. -- Manager (needs name) is less understanding, hounds them to release a press statement. -- Most of their time together is spent in private or secluded places. Obvs, they frequent the beach for training. -- They often text and talk to each other on the phone, nightly if they haven’t seen each other. -- AM is still struggling a little bit with the fact that IM is so young, but he’s impressed by IM’s emotional maturity. -- IM is over the moon about AM, not enduring nearly the moral struggle AM is. He’s not an idiot, and he’s not oblivious, but he doesn’t think that there’s anything particularly wrong with them messing around a little. He’s considerate enough not to wind AM up when he’s busy or they’re in public, although sometimes he can’t help how he feels. (Being ‘turned on’ isn’t really strong enough of a feeling to cross the link; only acting on it is.) -- For his part, AM (at first, at least) tries not to touch himself, or at least only when he thinks IM is sleeping. Eventually they come to the conclusion that that’s not working out well-- and the most logical way to handle it, so as not to inconvenience either of them, is to go at the same time/ at set times. -- That is the most AM allows them to do (hugging/cuddling is totally fine, limited kissing is okay), and even that seems like too much to him, but he compromises with himself because he knows it would be worse if he didn’t. (It’s not as if he’s going to convince a 16-year-old to stop touching himself for 2+ years, and though his own urges are less frequent, it’s been uncomfortable trying to hold back entirely.) He doesn’t allow them to touch each other, and IM is actually pretty okay with this. Well, he respects it, at least. He’s just happy to have AM in whatever capacity he can. Some notes regarding the universe: -- laws regarding consent ages are a bit more lax, given the soulmate thing. AMIM would be more-or-less within their right to do whatever they want with each other, as long as IMmom is okay with it. And even if she weren’t, they could apply to be married, even at IM’s young age, by passing a test that proves they’re soulmates.(I don't think they'll do this. Manager would have a heart attack. ...then again, maybe he'd like the idea…) -- however, there is still certainly a stigma about age-difference relationships, particularly where one party is underage.

Story 1 plot points to mention our resolve:

-- telling IM that his mom already knew

-- AM coming to terms with IM being a fan

-- AM telling IM his real name

-- AM telling manager about IM immediately. (Might be a good point to start with.)

To time skip or not to time skip? I'm leaning towards not. New outline, after I've written a bit.

1. AM talks to manager, Suzuki, and tells him about the whole situation, almost entirely honest. They decide to keep it a secret until AM has a successor. (AM POV)

2. AMIM go on a date, where they talk about both applying to UA. IM wonders what AM is not telling him. They hold hands. AM brings up the paperwork Suzuki wants them to sign, and IM agrees. (IM POV)

3. AM sees something that convinces him to offer OFA to IM. (AM POV)

4. IM begins to train for OfA. (IM POV)

5. IM goes to UA entrance exam. (AM POV)

6. They begin at UA, and try to figure out how to act around each other, after they've had so much private time over the past months. (IM POV)

7. The villains attack UA, AMIM touch-team to beat them, and people start to really put their relationship together. (AM POV)

END S1. Ugh how did this get so long that I have to separate it by season?!

Touch2 titles:

Some related words: Touch, feel, sense, sensation, emotion, Touch, touched, touching, touches, touchstone, touch-tone, aftertouch, finishing touch, retouch, out of touch, in touch, untouched, Touched can mean: physically touched (he touched my arm), lightly mentioned (he touched upon the issue), emotionally moved (he was touched by the story), brought together metaphorically (their lives touched), affected (his life was touched by his decisions) Touch, taste, smell, see, hear

Leaning towards using other ‘touch’ words for different parts of overall story.

Touch - original story

Retouch(ed) - this story

Touch-up - maybe the next part

Finishing touch - the last story (though there might be another in between)

Untouchable - first nsfw side story, before izuku is of age, on the phone with each other, feeling the echoes of their actions.

Untouched - second nsfw side story, when izuku comes of age and they finally get together physically.

Aftertouch - epilogue (years in future, maybe, working together)

In touch - side stories taking place in the timeline of the story

Out of touch - side stories taking place before or after story, or from different character's point of view or about different characters.

Chapter quotes: Every action of our lives touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity.

-Edwin Hubbell Chapin (Chapter 1, Retouch) The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart.

-Helen Keller The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: a human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him, a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create - so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.

-Pearl Buck Aim for your star, no matter how far, you must reach high above and touch your life with love, you must never look back, but charge on! Attack! See your goal your star of desire, see it red hot, feel it burning, you must be obsessed with it to make it your true yearning, be ready my friends for when you truly believe it, you will certainly achieve it and by all of God’s universal laws you will always receive it!

-Bob Smith We do not do well except when we know where the best is and when we are assured that we have touched it and hold its power within us. (lol god this one is awfully literal)

-Joseph Joubert If you can learn from hard knocks, you can also learn from soft touches.

-Carolyn Kenmore, Mannequin: My Life as a Model When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.

-Henri Nouwen And that’s everything I’ve got about Touch/Retouch! I might clean up that third chapter and post it some day, but *shrug*.

#elo fics #Dekumight #long post

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mimicteruyo · 3 years

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My new writing routine is starting to work out! \o/

What's my new writing routine? An old one! Basically, I cycle through variations of working on just one project at a time, working piecemeal on several WIPs at once, to just writing random bits and pieces in a single file and seeing what sticks. Right now I'm back to working on just one thing, with a random snippets file for when a new idea simply won't leave me alone until I write it down. It always takes a couple of days for the adjustment to stick, but now we're there!

Since it was one of the Camp NaNoWriMo months (still is, probably? NaNo just isn't the same after the site revamp), I'm still in the habit of taking a break from editing in July and focusing on writing new things. That's my plan this year, as well. Since it tends to take hilariously long between me starting a project and finishing it, nothing I work on this week or the next is likely to be relevant to anyone else until 2022 at the earliest, but hey, the earlier I get started, the sooner they'll get done.

There are some things I need to re-learn about writing over and over again. One is, annoyingly enough, writing anything longer than 5k. I hope this is the last time I need to re-school myself on that. The other things are from what I understand relatively common sticking points, which is why I'm listing them here in case someone other than me can benefit from hearing them:

It doesn't matter if today's writing is bad. It's being done so that tomorrow's writing can be better.

To expand on the above, no writing is "wasted". Even if you end up rejecting a scene you wrote wholesale, it will at least have shown you one way how not to write it.

Some days are just bad for writing. Write anyway, but be willing to show yourself mercy.

Don't panic because it feels like you aren't getting enough writing done. 200 words a day is nearly 75k a year a.k.a. a full-length novel. 500 words is over 180k.

No-one's going to see the first draft. In fact, no-one's going to see any draft until you're prepared to show it to them.

So, let the first draft be really bad! Throw everything at the wall! This paradoxically often results in some great bits of writing... and some really bad ones that can be edited out and no-one will be the wiser. Ha ha!

It's honestly pretty okay if characters are way too obvious and frank with their dialogue in the first draft, since it makes it easier to grasp their goals and motivations. You can always edit the subtlety in later.

Write with your heart. If you put in an earnest effort and are satisfied with your work, it doesn't matter so much if others ignore it, and makes it all the sweeter if they like it, too.

(This one's probably just for me lol) Don't post when you're in a fragile state of mind.

While it's important to expand your comfort zone, it should be done at a reasonable pace instead of jumping directly into the deep end of the pool.

That last point sunk my previous writing routine. Working on multiple projects a day went great as long as two were firmly in my wheelhouse and the others were gently expanding out (apparently straightforwardly shippy stuff had disappeared from my comfort zone at some point? I sure hope it's back now), but when the most challenging of those WIPs ended up expanding and going straight to hell, and then got coupled with another long and serious WIP... yeah, no wonder I ran screaming back to playing FTL.

When I return to those WIPs, I'll tackle one at a time and accept that it may mean writing fewer words a day than I might otherwise like. First, I'll build up to them by working on longer/heavier one-shots... until the Touhou Ship Week prompts are announced, anyway. Lol.

Wishing everyone a pleasant July, and all the writers a great writing groove!

#teruyo talk #lots of rambling about writing #I guess this technically counts as writing advice lolll

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rhube · 3 years

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20 Questions For Fanfic Writers

I got this from @fenrir-kin‘s post I saw someone reblog and they said that anyone who wants to do it should consider themselves tagged, so... same.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

23 on my main account; 32 total.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

397,777 on the main account; about 550,000 total.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Stone Fever (Anders/Fenris - Dragon Age 2)

2. The Naked Anders (Anders/Fenris - Dragon Age 2 )

3. A Gentle Touch (Anders/Fenris - Dragon Age 2 )

4. An Uncomfortable Discovery (JustFenHanders - Dragon Age 2 )

5. Self Reflected (Anders/Fenris - Dragon Age 2 )

4. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Sadly, yes. It really sucks.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, nearly every time! TBH, it mostly just seems polite - if someone takes the time to say something nice to me, I usually at least want to thank them, and if they stay a bunch of stuff there’s usually something to reply back about. It excites and delights me to have nice comments on my fic and I like to express that and let people know how happy it makes me.

I usually respond to the nasty comments, too, at least to tell them to bog off. Maybe I should just ignore them, but I’ve never been very good at that. Also sometimes they’re wrong and they need to know it.

Sometimes I get thoughtful comments pointing out something the reader thinks or is worried might be problematic. If it’s earnestly meant I try to respond in kind, even though often it’s a case of them being worried I’m not going to address something when I really wish they’d wait to see how the fic turns out before telling me my fic is problematic. But that’s the problem with an episodic format. It can hurt to get those comments too, but I try to be sensitive to the fact that the person is probably feeling anxious themselves.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Maybe Self Love? (Connor-51/Connor-52)

Although virtually all my fics are extremely angsty, they generally have happy endings too. I like my Hurt with some Comfort at the end. This fic doesn’t *really* have an angsty end, but it doesn’t end in a relatioship either.

(My original fiction is another matter. Thinking about it, a major character dies or is dead/undead in four of my published stories, but is it my fault if only the sad/dark stuff sells?)

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Hmm, tricky. I think either The Naked Anders (dark in the middle, but the characters not only fall in love, but Fenris is totally won over to Anders’ cause) or A Gentle Touch (much fluffier fic overall, happy ending, but less clear on how a HEA can happen because the wider setting of Kirkwall is cursed and it doesn’t really address how to resolve that).

8. Do you write crossovers?

As a rule, no. I rarely read them, either. HOWEVER, I dearly *wish* I could write a Lucifer/The Good Fight crossover in which Diane Lockhart has to defend Lucifer for something of which he’s complete innocent, and she takes absolutely no shit from him and basically looks askance at the entire LAPD for putting up with his shit.

It would be AMAZING, but I don’t think I know enough about the law to make it work.

9. Do you write smut?

Hahahaha - yes, quite a lot. I once saw someone rec one of my fics and they were like, ‘It’s rated teen for now, but Rhube usually writes explicit, so the rating may rise’ and I was like, yes, that is fair.

I’m 55,000 words into Forgiveness now and I keep having to take breaks to write smutty fics because I CANNOT DEAL with this slow burn nonsense omg I just want the boys to KISS (and then, you know, do the do).

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I sincerely hope not. I can’t even imagine the amount of stress I would feel.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated? Or turned into podfic?

Alas, no.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I don’t think I could cope with that.

13. What’s your all-time favorite relationship (doesn’t have to be romantic)?

Anders/Fenris, if the hundreds of thousands of words I have apparently written about them is anything to go by.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I believe in my ability to finish all my fics! But if I had to pic, I must admit I have less idea overall of where Fenris by Fenris is going in the long term. Except towards Fenris/Anders/Leto sexytimes. But the more I wrote the more it was becoming an interesting angsty fic instead of a silly doubles-sex fic - which I should have expected, but I foresee troubles ahead.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. I think I’m pretty good at writing in the ways that people actually speak, and paying attention to how characters speak in canon.

And well-structured angst. Like, oh, you think you can see how this is going to a familiar angsty place, but have you considered all THESE ways the characters could get upset too? BECAUSE I HAVE - and I really need someone else to feel these feels!

It has long been my dream to create a Nugget of Purest Angst, and I feel like I’m honing my skills through fanfic.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Actions that accompany dialog. She sighed, he nodded, she raised her eyebrows, he ran his hands through his hair, they groaned, she hummed, he paused for a moment (everyone does things for a moment) etc. etc.

Why must my characters move alongside their dialog? Is it not enough that they say the wrong things to each other in ways that reveal their inner torment?

Also, I am lazy about description in fanfic. I know it. But I mostly don’t have the energy these days to slow down for description. Fic comes out however my poor fatigued brain regurgitates it and I rely too much on people knowing what places are like from canon. Sorry.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Uh, why not? I mean, I’m less likely to do it because I suck at second languages, but I don’t see any reason why a person should not. Is this a common issue for people?

18. What’s the first fandom you wrote for?

Strictly speaking? The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. In a fanzine. Proper Old Skool.

19. What are your favorite tropes/scenarios to read or write?

Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Body swaps. Doubles. Mind-control (but we’re resisting it and we’re very upset that it’s happening, but also we had some extensive discussions about consent and we had sex anyway and we liked it). Forced to Fuck/Sex Pollen/Love Potions. Heats (and Oh No! We’re trapped together! What shall we do?). Arseholes to Lovers.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Complete? Probably Stone Fever. The angst is good and somehow this pwp setting got proper feels and character development in it, as well as a lot of sex. To the extent that I’m now rewriting in an original setting and with original characters (follow @rubyjones for news on that, if I ever get well enough to finish that project).

Incomplete? Probably An Uncomfortable Discovery - the start could do with some polishing as I only expected it to be a quick and dirty short fic, but now it’s 79,000 words long and contains some of the best, most angsty stuff I’ve ever written, as well as a kickass, very angsty fight scene.

I have so many feels about that fic and I really regret that I allowed a comment to knock the wind out of my sails so it became hard to get back to it. I WILL finish it one day, though.

#ao3 #fanfic #me #rhube #dragon age 2 #dragon age

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darlingsdevil · 4 years

Text

The Ballads of Rebirth (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter 17: Epilogue

Masterlist

Tag list: @rollyjogerjones

A/N: This is it. This is the end. I wrote a little message for all of you to read, it would mean a lot if you did.

When I began this story a few days after Christmas, I wrote it on a whim. The story brewed in my mind for perhaps a max week before I began writing it. The original idea was inspired a lot by Big Fish the Musical, the musical I was in, in early December. I remember I used to write day after day and could get a chapter up daily, until around the sixth or seventh chapter. I can’t quite tell you how I did it, but I know if I hadn’t gotten that far so quickly, I would have never finished this story, it would have been added to my never ending pile of unfinished WIP’s. The Ballads of Rebirth was supposed to go in an entirely different direction that I had planned, Lee and Arthur’s feud was supposed to be way worse and bitter, and would have ended up with Arthur beating up Lee. Lee was supposed to be much more of an antagonist in the final chapters, a way worse of a person, but I couldn’t do it to him. In many ways, he was flawed, he was selfish at times and quick to judge, but he was still loving and goofy. I know people were not going to like him, they were rooting for Arthur after all. But I still love Lee, he was my first official rdr2 oc, my first fully fleshed out character. Quite frankly, I didn’t really ‘know’ who he was until I continued writing it, I had no personality built out for him until I began writing, and I just chose what felt right. That’s what happens with a lot of my stories, I write what feels right (which usually leads to plot holes because I don’t write shit down). But regardless, I love Lee, and I hope you’re satisfied with the ending I gave him.

There were a few times that I thought about giving up, that my story was absolute shit, that my plot holes were too confusing and my narrative was weak, and I was close to quitting. Until people began asking me when the new chapters would be out, what would happen next. While the numbers may be small, the dedication is what kept me going. And yeah, maybe my story isn’t the biggest rdr2 fic, maybe it’s not talked about in discord servers, but I don’t care, all that matters is that the fans that have stayed have shown me that I should continue writing, that there are people rooting for this story. I know, my story is full of plot holes, I know people don’t like Lee (which I’ll forever be bitter about), I know my story has grammatical errors, I know maybe I shouldn’t have killed off Mahala, I know there’s a lot I could have done, but there’s a lot I still did. As much as I think my story is weak, I’m still proud of the fact that I made it, that it is my own, that I created it and stuck through.

Sometimes, it’s not about what you could have done, it’s what you did. And that’s more valuable in many ways. Creating anything is powerful, and The Ballads of Rebirth taught me that.

So thank you, to every commentator, every person who left a like or kudo, every person who left an ask in my inbox, and especially everyone who complimented my writing style (which is apparently unique? and also these comments are a huge ego boost to me so if I’m cocky, it’s those peoples fault). Thank you for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoyed what I made.

I know I did.

••

Here Are Some Songs That Inspired This Story

1. Setting Sun - Lord Huron (Main inspiration)

2. Prologue - Starry (What I consider to be the main theme)

3. Sunlight and Storms - Starry (Inspiration for Lee and Reader’s relationship)

4. The Road - Starry (yeah.. I know there’s lots of Starry, but regardless, Arthur’s arc inspiration)

5. After The War - Stars (wow lots of star-esque things, Epilogue inspiration, I recommend listening to it while reading this)

•••

PS. The AU ending will be posted with the main story, as I realized many of you may not see it otherwise.

•••

Time passed quickly and solemnly. Life was peaceful and quiet. And you loved every second of it. After you and Arthur had left Richfield in search of the life you had lost, you and your husband had found it with Charles, in a small cottage down the road from him. Charles was happy to see you and Arthur returned to him.

And life was quiet, for a long time it was. You heard nothing of Micah and Dutch, the Pinkerton’s had stopped searching, it seemed the outlaw way had died out long ago too. You were scared Arthur or you would somehow slip back into it. you would blink and suddenly be pulled back into the life you so desperately tried to avoid, but the pull never came. The older you got, the lesser and lesser that percentage became.

The people of Wapiti had long since moved. You visited Mahala’s grave frequently, and thanked her for bringing Arthur back to you. You were sure you would have liked her.

You thanked Charles too, for being quick to find him. It was strange to think that without Charles’ swift action, Arthur would not be here today. Instead, you would be visiting his grave instead of Mahala’s.

John was exceptionally pleased to hear Arthur was still alive. Abigail wrote frequently to you for many years, you missed her dearly, but you had faith you would be reunited once more.

“Honey?” You called out to the doorway behind you.

“G’morning. I got what you asked me to pick up,” Arthur replied. You looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. He placed the box down at the table.

“Thank you. Breakfast is almost ready,” You said, scrambling some eggs on top of the stove. Arthur came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Someone’s touchy today,” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Missed you.” He nuzzled his face into your neck.

“You were gone for a day.”

“I’m not allowed to miss my dear wife?” He pretended to sound hurt.

“Not when you’re distracting me,” You replied nonchalantly, continuing to prepare the omelettes.

Arthur laughed heartily in your ear. “I give up then,” he said, removing his hold from your waist and putting his hands up in defeat.

“It’s almost ready, sit down.” You put the finishing touches on the omelettes and put them on plates. Arthur sat down at the small table while you fetched some forks. You stared through the window while your hands grabbed two forks, seeing the daffodils on the window, Arthur had bought for you a few days earlier.

You walked over to the table and set down the two plates, taking a seat across from Arthur. He grabbed at the plate hungrily and began to eat.

“You sure are hungry.”

“Starvin’. Been a day since I’ve had your lovely cooking,” Arthur smiled at you. You picked up your fork as well and began to eat.

“I forgot the coffee, hold on.” You realized after a few moments and walked over to the countertop to fetch the pot of coffee, pouring two cups for Arthur and you. You made yours how you liked it, and brought cream and sugar over to Arthur.

“Thank you,” He replied to the gesture, grabbing his cup. He put in a few spoonfuls of sugar and some cream, always the one with the sweet tooth.

You sipped your coffee while you ate your breakfast, glancing out towards the front windows. It was a nice day out, clear of clouds with a nice breeze. The garden still needed tending to, but at least later you could sit on the porch with Arthur.

“I invited Charles over for dinner tonight, by the way. I’m making roast beef and potatoes, and maybe an apple pie, I haven’t decided yet,” You shrugged.

“Make blueberry.” Arthur replied, picking up a newspaper from yesterday that was on the table.

“Blueberries aren’t in season.”

“Okay, then raspberry.”

“Not in season either.”

“Really? Well shit. Apple will have to do then.”

“You don’t like my apple pies?”

“What? No, I do! You just make them a lot. I feel like we’re having them every week,” Arthur laughed nervously.

You pretended to glare at him, “Then I’ll never make another apple pie again. You’re getting pie with no filling in all of them now.”

“Now I didn’t say that! I’m just saying, you make apple pies a lot, I like variety sometimes.”

“You lived with the gang for 20 years and ate the same stew for every meal but you’re complaining about me making apple pie once a week?” You raised your eyebrow at him.

“That’s why I like variety now. Couldn’t have it for so long, that once I get it I’ll never go back to eating the same thing.”

“Mhm.” You dragged out the sound, nodding sarcastically.

You stared at Arthur, he stared at you, a slight smile on his lips. “Just admit you don’t like my apple pies.”

“Would it make you happy if I said that?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know!”

“Listen, I like your apple pies, honestly. I just like some variety, that’s all,” He said, attempting to quell your fake anger.

“I’m never making an apple pie ever again,” You replied dramatically, slumping onto the table, reaching your hands out to hold his.

Arthur chucked at your dramatics.

“Just eat your omelette.”

•••

You thought of Lee frequently. Not that you yearned for him, or missed him, you simply wondered how he was doing. And in a way, he had heard your thoughts, after about two years of silence from him, Lee sent a letter.

“You have a letter,” Arthur had said one night when he came back from town, placing the letter on the table in front of you.

“Who’s it from?”

“Lee.”

“Lee sent me a letter?” You asked in disbelief, grabbing the envelope and examining the name on the front. Leroy Rinascita. Clear as day.

(Y/N),

It’s been quite some time since you left Richfield. I hope this letter finds you well. I took a chance and sent a letter to Valentine, a city Arthur had mentioned to me before, so if I don’t hear from you, I assume you’re somewhere else off in the country.

I hope you’re pleased with the choices you made. How is Arthur, by the way? I know we started off on the wrong foot (for good reason) but overall I found him to be a good, kind man. I can tell Arthur makes a good husband. I pray he’s not too angry with how I acted earlier towards him, water under the bridge, right?

I apologize for not sending a letter sooner, or perhaps I’m sorry for even writing this, in case you find this letter strange. I just wanted to know how you are doing. I’m doing well too. I’ve found someone as well who I enjoy very much, they live with me now. I guess you can say we got married, about two months ago actually. It wasn’t a conventional marriage of course. You actually already met them. I’m not sure you would expect who, but for the sake of prying eyes, I won’t reveal who they are in this letter. Other than marriage, life’s been pretty normal. The general store is doing well, there’s some new projects in the city too. A new candy store opened by the pier after the old one unfortunately burned down a few months after you had left. Richfield is bigger now, I feel like it’ll never stop growing. More and more people show up everyday. I barely even know the neighbors names these days.

As for my father, I’m pleased to say he’s still kicking. Somehow, the cancer went away, I couldn’t tell you how, the doctors can’t either. I’m really grateful for you convincing him to stay alive, to stay for me.

Your locket is still with me, I found an old family photo of my father, my mother and Anastasia as a newborn. It was strange to see my mother’s face after so many years, I had nearly forgotten it. I have an older photo of Anastasia too on the other side, my partner isn’t in the locket, only because I see them daily. I don’t need to be reminded that I love them.

But enough talk of me, how are you doing? I know it’s been a while, but I still care about you, and hope to know you’re doing well. Give Arthur a hello for me as well.

Regards,

Lee

You were happy to know Lee still cared, in some horrible nightmare you imagined that he despised you, that you were simply a dark phase in his life. And you were even happier that Lee had found someone and was truly living the life he had wanted. In a way, you were the same as him, both yearning for peace and quiet.

“Lee’s been doing well. I’m glad he sent this letter, he says hello to you, Arthur,” You told him, setting the letter down on the table.

“Good. I’m glad Lee’s doing okay.”

“Yeah, me too.”

•••

Even though Beecher’s Hope had many people living off its land, it did not feel crowded. Perhaps it was the sky that made it feel that way, the sky was endless, and when you and your family worked underneath it, it did not feel so small. The sky was infinite.

“Jack, will you go get Anne for me? She’s out by the chicken coop,” You had told the teenager.

“Sure thing, Aunt (Y/N),” He replied, walking towards the front door to fetch Anne for dinner. Although the Marston and Morgan houses were separate, the two families had practically lived in both. Jack was eating over for dinner, John and Abigail claiming you as his babysitter. Not that he needed one — or perhaps Uncle did.

“Arthur? Will you set the table for me, please? I have to go get Anne washed up once Jack brings her in,” You called out to Arthur behind you.

“Sure.” Arthur responded, he picked up the dishes next to you and began placing them on the table.

As you finished up cooking, you heard the shrill voice of Anne calling out to you. You immediately swiveled around as her tiny legs bounced up to you.

“There’s my little one!” You said joyously, she wrapped her arms around your leg and giggled. She was a near carbon copy of Arthur. She had his nose, his eyes, his mouth shape, but she had your hair and complexion. Regardless of who she looked more like — she was yours.

“Mama! I brought you a feather from the chicken coop!” She reached into her tiny dress pocket and pulled out a white feather. It was bigger and heavier than a chicken feather, you wondered what type of bird it was.

“Sorry, Uncle Arthur, she kind of made a mess in the chicken coop,” You heard Jack say to Arthur.

“You did? Oh thank you, sweetie.” You beamed at her, she watched you take it with big proud eyes. You placed the feather in your pocket, it’s long feathers sticking out.

“You’re welcome, mama.” You noticed the dirt on her face and on her knees as she said that. You scooped her up in your arms and took her into the bathroom to wash up.

You set her down next to the sink and began washing her knees with a wet washcloth.

“Mommy?”

“Yes?” You hummed, continuing to scrub the dirt off her knees.

“When is the baby coming?”

“Not for a couple more months.”

“Daddy thinks it’ll be a boy,” She told you matter of factly.

“Daddy thinks lots of things.”

“He told me he’s sure about this one.”

“When did daddy say that?” You asked, dipping the washcloth under the water, beginning to wipe the dirt off her cute face.

“Today. He told me while we were looking for flowers for you.”

“Okay, well, what else did he say?”

“He said he wants to name the baby Henry Hosea.”

You blinked at the name. Henry Hosea did sound nice. After all, Hosea was technically your adoptive father, as well as Arthur’s. Neither of you had really ever brought him up, avoiding that painful topic entirely. And Anne knew nothing of your past occupations, it was a story for another time, when she was older.

“I like the name Hosea,” Anne responded after being met by your silence.

“It’s a nice name,” Your voice nearly breaking. You subdued the tears in your eyes, after all that conversation was for another time.

When you finished cleaning Anne up, you brought her to dinner and sat her down next to Jack. You brought the food out to the table, making sure to put the apple pie right in front of Arthur.

•••

In many ways, time had been kind to you. It had been patient and nurturing, time allowed you a second chance at life.

It had given you the life you had wanted, one full of peace, love and family. Your life was quiet at Beecher’s Hope, filled with no revenge story. Time had dragged out your lesson for many years, but now you were reaping the fruits of your labor.

So now, as you cradle your newborn son, watching Anne and Arthur play in the field, her giggles dancing over the grass. You thank time for being there for you. For giving you what you wanted, for letting you learn to grow. For giving you a family. For returning Arthur to you.

In many ways you were thankful, thankful for the lessons you had learned, thankful for the house you lived in, thankful for the food on your table. Thankful for Mahala, thankful for Lee, thankful for Anne, thankful for Arthur and thankful for your son, Henry Hosea.

A cool breeze swept over the field, causing the grass and flowers to dance in the wind. Anne began to pretend she was a bird and Arthur raced around trying to catch her, both laughing in unison.

You looked down at your newborn son, his eyes closed over his resting face.

“One day I’ll tell you where your name comes from. I’ll tell you all about the life your daddy and I lived. And I’ll tell you about the life I had after that, and I’ll tell you about why I’ll never go back to either. One day I’ll tell you all about it,” You said quietly to your son, a promise to him and time, and no one else.

And in the end there was a man and a woman, and a daughter and a son, living to the world, thankful for every moment they get to spend with each other.

And Mother Nature rejoiced, for the man on the mountain and the woman in the city had found each other.

••• The End •••

#arthur morgan x reader #the ballads of rebirth #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2

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unending-happiness · 4 years

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Hi, I've got a question out of nowhere! I was looking to re-read a story And When You Soar that was on my AO3 bookmark list and it's apparently not there anymore! I think it was your story? Can I ask what happened to it? If it's indeed the story I remember, I loved it!

Hi! Oh wow. It’s definitely my story! I’m smiling so big because you want to reread it. So…..as for what happened to it, I got a little overwhelmed with all my responsibilities in real life and how little time I had for writing. All my wips just felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders, because no matter how much I wanted to finish them I just didn’t think I’d ever have time. And I also felt so guilty about leaving them for so long without updates and letting readers down. So, I deleted all my wips from AO3 and vowed to only post them again when they were complete on my end (except for editing) and I could update them on a regular schedule. And When You Soar was supposed to be a relatively quick story, but then, as stories do, it took on a life of it’s own and there ended up being way more to it than I originally thought, so it got pulled too.

I’m actually in the middle of writing a long one-shot right now that’s fairly close to being sent to my beta. I don’t know what’s wrong with my writing brain right now, but I get huge bursts of inspiration for something new, then it fades, and rinse and repeat. Super unhelpful.

Now, the good news is, I’ve found myself at the very beginning of a period of being off work and quarantined at home because of this delightful pandemic we’re all experiencing, so I’m going to attack my wips with intensity and AWYS has a very good chance of getting finished soon and back up on ao3. Honestly, thank you so much for this ask because I wasn’t sure what wip from my list to work on after the one I’m finishing now, and you’ve made the decision easy for me. Thank you so much, lovely human! To hold you over until I post it again………

And When You Soar-Chapter 1

Alec ducked his head and stepped through the door and into the plane. He stopped when the elderly woman in front of him came to a standstill and looked around, transferring his suitcase to his other hand. He acknowledged the flight attendant standing to his left with his usual tight smile.

“Welcome aboard,” she greeted him, flashing him a bigger smile of her own.

“Thanks,” Alec answered her before his attention shifted to the open door just past her. A tall pilot standing just inside the flight cabin nodded at him and then turned his attention to who Alec assumed was his co-pilot. Always curious, Alec leaned to the side to see more of the other pilot, but his view into the small space was almost completely obstructed by the large man

“Sir,” the woman said to get his attention again.

He looked over at her and saw that she was motioning for him to move along into the cabin. He realized that the people in front of him had moved forward and he was holding up the line.

“Sorry,” he whispered, as if talking at a normal volume would cause further disturbance.

She just smiled at him sweetly again, and then turned her attention to whoever was behind him. Alec shifted his suitcase so that he could fit down the aisle, and focussed on finding his seat without taking out the tiny woman in front of him. He located his row near the back of the plane and saw that his seatmates hadn’t yet boarded, so he quickly stowed his bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in the aisle seat.

Normally, Alec loved being tall. He never needed a step stool, he had always been chosen first for basketball teams in high-school gym class, and he could see over everyone’s head in a crowd. It also made intimidating people fairly effortless, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Being tall was almost always a perk, but he found that flights were one of the few glaring exceptions.

He always sprang for first class when he had to be on a plane for more than a few hours, but his sister’s last-minute plans had him booking the only available seat on the only available flight that would fit into his demanding schedule. He barely had time to get a workout in and grab a quick shower before his Uber pulled up. He was feeling very lucky that he at least got an aisle seat, and even so, there simply wasn’t going to be a position that would make his legs happy. It was going to be a long night and his only hope would be to fall asleep, which was unlikely, as he found it especially difficult to do in crowded places.

He grabbed his phone and earbuds out of his backpack and put it under the seat in front of him, barely leaving enough room to squeeze his black Nikes in there. When he glanced back up, he could see that there was a young man and woman waiting patiently for him to get up so they could take the seats next to him. He quickly stood and moved to the side. The man eyed him up and down suspiciously and then quickly changed positions with who Alec could only assume was his girlfriend so that he would be sitting next to Alec instead of her. Alec barely contained an eye roll. Heterosexuals. He gave them plenty of space while they got settled and then gingerly lowered himself back into his seat, already regretting going so hard in the gym that morning as his thighs still protested from yesterday’s workout. He would feel it doubly tomorrow.

He went through the process of checking and returning messages on his phone. He handled a few work emails and then touched base with his family. He answered a text from Izzy.

Did you make your flight?

Barely

That’s the spirit. See you soon. 😘

If by “soon” you mean in 9 hours, then yes, that.

Grouchy…..You got stuck in economy again didn’t you? Such a diva.

Next time you come up with some grand scheme, I’m going to need you to think of my legs.

Promise, but I’m sure you could use your powers of persuasion to get yourself into first class. 😎😍

You’re confusing me with you, again

Oh, Alec. Try not to have too much fun.😂 We’ll pick you up at the airport.

Hey, I know how to have fun.

And by “we”, do you mean…..

Simon and I. I wouldn’t bring mom or dad. I’m not that mean.☹️

I have plenty of scars that suggest otherwise, but I’ll see you in 9 short hours.

Love you, big brother

Love you, too.

The perky flight attendant had started her safety speech, which was thankfully straight to the point and not one of those lame ones trying to make everyone laugh. Alec fastened his seatbelt across his black joggers and logged into the airline’s Wi-Fi. He put his phone on airplane mode as soon as he was connected. He glanced over at his seatmates to see the man was huddled up next to his companion and they were chatting quietly and giggling. He didn’t think he had to worry about them trying to talk to him, but he stuck a wireless earbud in that ear anyway just to be sure. He scanned the rest of the passengers within view of him and tried to settle comfortably in his seat when he decided that everything was as it should be.

The pilot he had seen when he boarded the plane came out a few moments later and did the standard pre-flight announcement. Captain Garroway had a deep and booming voice, so Alec clearly heard the weather and their destination all the way from his seat in the back of the plane.

He busied himself with scrolling through his playlist to distract himself during take off. He wasn’t a nervous flyer, but the knowledge that nearly all plane crashes happened during ascent and descent kept him from really relaxing until they were fully up in the air. Being out of control in any situation went against every fiber of his being, and he just had to work through it. He spread his legs a little, pushing his knees all the way against the seatback in front of him, praying that the person wouldn’t want to recline their seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

The plane had just hit cruise height, the most nerve wracking part over, and he was listening to a conversation between a mother and child in front of him when his phone buzzed in his lap.

Alec swiped down his notifications and pulled his eyebrows together when he saw what app the push notification had come from. Of all times to get a message from someone on Grindr, this one had to be the weirdest. He hadn’t even had an account for twenty-four hours yet, only having downloaded it late the night before out of boredom. His sister had joked recently that he needed to “Meet someone on Grindr or something to let off some steam”, and despite everything in his being telling him he wouldn’t be happy with such a thing, he had done it anyway. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had listened to her, because he had no interest in hooking up with a random guy just because he was within so many feet of him. There was actually someone he had something really casual with, but it had been a while since he’d seen him. So, he could probably chalk this horrible lapse in decision making up to being frustrated and horny. Still, he had no intention of using the app, not really.

He thought about dismissing the message without reading it, almost laughing at the thought of having sex with some random stranger in the tiny plane bathroom, when it hit him that the message actually had to be from someone currently on the plane with him. That thought had him sitting up straighter and looking around him as inconspicuous as possible. He didn’t see anyone staring at him, but still, like the truly paranoid person he was, he turned down the brightness on his screen so the people around him would be less likely to see what he was doing. Hesitantly, he opened the message.

It was from someone called “CoyNotCryptic” and the icon wasn’t a person, but instead was an aerial photo of a city he didn’t recognize. Oh-kayyy, that wasn’t going to tell him anything. He looked around the cabin again and then read the message.

I see you’re on my flight. Enjoy the ride to Rome.

Alec stared at the words in disbelief. What are the chances? He quickly tried to figure out who this mystery messenger could be. A fellow passenger? The app informed him that it was someone ninety feet away, which would have to be someone toward the front of the plane. A passenger in first class maybe? Alec looked up at the flight attendants suspiciously. Both were women and he didn’t see a third, but that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t another one there. First class sometimes had their own attendant. Thoroughly flustered, he turned off his screen and laid it face down in his lap again, still eyeing the people around him and the front of the cabin.

He made it an impressive five minutes before he unlocked his phone and pulled up the message thread. He clicked on the mystery person’s profile.

All he learned from that was that the guy was 3O ish years old, 5’11”, 175lbs, Bi, and Single. Seemed intriguing enough, but a picture definitely would have been extremely helpful. Fucking Grindr. This was why he didn’t want to mess with it in the first place. He wasn’t going to answer it. Absolutely not. What would he even say? What if the person was a total creep and it was a disaster for the entire eight-hour flight?

Just a few minutes later, bored and antsy, he decided that it was going to bother him if he didn’t at least find out who it was. Oh, what the hell , he thought, and typed out a message.

The chances of this happening have to be a million to one, right?

He tapped his foot nervously while he waited the fifteen seconds for an answer to come.

I’m not privy to the exact statistics, but it doesn’t happen very often, in my professional experience. Does this mean you’re one in a million?

Alec swallowed a laugh. The wording of the message made him feel more like it was someone working on the flight. That was probably less risky than a random passenger. More than a little intrigued, he typed a reply.

By that logic, you would be one in a million, also.

Oh, I definitely am.

How self-aware of you.

Self-aware and humble.

And….working right now??

Yes, although it doesn’t feel like work at the moment.

Because I’m distracting you?

Don’t get ahead of yourself. It could be the 40-ton jet I’m flying. -MB

Alec nearly dropped his damn phone and he was ninety percent sure he said, “No way,” out loud instead of in his head. The pilot!! The pilot was messaging him on Grindr. What the actual hell had Izzy gotten him into?! He had the passing thought that maybe it was somebody else on the plane fucking with him, and he looked around for about the tenth time. And MB? Most definitely not the initials of Garroway, the pilot he saw before. Must’ve been the pilot he hadn’t been able to get a good look at when he boarded.

He didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole of thought, because just then a voice filled the cabin. This one was very different than Captain Garroway’s and it got Alec’s full attention, to say the least.

“Good evening, lovely passengers, this is Captain Bane speaking.”

This voice sent a shiver down his spine and made every nerve ending wake up and take notice. It was a voice of pure silk that made Alec think of skin on skin, of dark passionate nights, of hushed whispers between sloppy kisses.

He was absolutely reeling at the realization that “MB” from Grindr was also Captain Bane, the pilot of this airplane, a man whose voice alone stimulated every cell in Alec’s body. He was thoroughly fucked for the duration of this flight and he couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad about it.

“We are now cruising along at an altitude of 30,000 feet. You may use any larger electronic devices you have at this time, on airplane mode, of course. I’m very good at what I do, but I’d prefer a smooth and easy ride tonight.”

Alec pursed his lips to contain his disbelieving laugh, his eyes wide.

“Please also feel free to take your seatbelt off if you need to move around the cabin, but be sure to put it back on anytime you’re in your seat. This is just a precaution in case of unexpected turbulence, or in the event I jerk my stick a little too hard.”

The passengers around him chuckled at the joke, but Alec thought that there was no possible way in hell any of them could be as affected by those words as he was. This was an unbelievable turn of events.

“My darling flight attendants will be doing drink service soon, and I’d like to ask you to be patient and enjoy whatever quenches your thirst. Please exercise self-control, though, as this is a long flight for all of us. Also, just a reminder that any long arms or long legs that are taking up aisle space, are most definitely at risk of being taken out by Clary and her cart, and need to be tucked safely in your seat. Thank you very much and enjoy the ride to Rome.”

This man. Holy. Fucking. Shit. He needed a drink from Clary and her cart ASAP.

He stared at his phone and that last message. It was clearly his move now, and considering how buzzed he was from the announcements alone, he wanted to make it a good one. He decided he very much wanted to play this game.

Aren’t there rules about texting and flying?

You are in very capable hands. I wasn’t joking when I said I’m good at what I do.

In all seriousness though, my co-pilot is doing all the heavy lifting at the moment, but if this makes you nervous, I’ll stop. I like to keep my customers happy.

Don’t stop.

I’m not worried.

Good. Tell me something?

Ask away.

What takes you to Rome?

My little sister’s impromptu wedding.

Scandalous. Have you met her other half?

Oh, yeah. They’ve been together for a while. The engagement isn’t that surprising, and, really, the quick wedding isn’t either if you know my family. She’s avoiding a lot of drama. I can’t really blame her.

Ah, family drama, ever delightful.

Unfortunately there’s no shortage of it with mine.

How long are you staying in Rome for the wedding?

Just a few days.

It’s an absolutely beautiful city. I can make some recommendations if you’d like……

That would be great.

Perky red rolled up to him with her cart, pulling his focus away from the conversation. He reluctantly placed the phone face down on his tray and tried to not look impatient as he got his wallet with his card out of his bag. She asked the couple next to him what they wanted, and Alec dutifully passed a soda and a red wine over. She ignored his debit card and poured a whiskey on the rocks, probably the most expensive they had on board, and handed it over to him. His confusion must have shown on his face because she winked at him and pointed to the front of the plane. It took a couple seconds for him to get it and then he glanced to his side to be sure the people next to him weren’t paying attention.

“Oh, uh, thanks,“ he whispered, and immediately felt like a moron.

“No problem. If you need anything else at all, just let me know. I’ll be back around for meal orders in just a little bit.”

Alec took a big sip of his drink. It was easily twice the size of the drinks you normally received on a plane and he felt a little guilty that he hadn’t even paid for it. He resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone had noticed his special treatment.

He checked his phone as soon as he felt relaxed from the warmth that had burned its way down his chest. There were no new messages, but he decided that sending him a drink was a pretty loud and clear message of its own and he started typing.

So, now you are flying a plane, texting, AND buying me a drink?! Show off.

Is that a thank you?

Of course. How did you even know where I was sitting?

Well, you see, there are these things called ‘Flight Manifests’ and pilots receive one for every flight. Although I must admit I’ve never found one quite as useful as I do now.

By the way, who uses their real name for a Grindr profile??

People who want their pilots to send them free booze.

Ah. Well, your grand scheme is working out quite nicely then, I’d say.

Seriously though, thank you for the drink.

You’re most welcome, Alexander. (So useful, that manifest)

Nobody calls me that except for my mother when she’s angry with me.

Would you rather I not?

No….you can.

Good, because I’m fond of it.

Speaking of things I’m fond of, Clary tells me that your "longest legs ever” have no business at all being in coach.

Ah, well, you can blame my sister and her last minute plans for that.

Wait, do you have everyone spying on me?!

Not everyone, just Clary, I suppose. Though, to be fair, she mentioned your legs before I had her bring you a drink. Seems “tall, dark, and handsome” appeals to all genders.

I’m going to need more alcohol if you’re going to keep saying things like that.

I’ll let Clary know the gorgeous man with mile long legs in C36 needs another drink soon.

I’m actually blushing.

I’d give my Louis luggage to see that for myself.

I don’t do selfies.

Really? Not even for the man who tried to get you a seat in First class?

It was all booked. I checked.

Yes, it is. But I tried to offer someone top shelf alcohol for the duration of the flight to switch with you.

YOU DIDN’T. Please tell me you didn’t.

Doesn’t matter. It didn’t work anyway. Please pass my apologies onto your legs.

No.

No?

No. If you have a message for my legs, you’ll have to deliver it yourself.

Do you really think it’s wise to cause a rise in the heart rate of the pilot who is flying your plane?

My bad. Pass my apologies onto your heart?

If I have to deliver messages in person, then you do as well.

Can you put the pedal to the floor? Get us on the ground any faster?

Do you know anything at all about airplanes?

No, but you could teach me.

With pleasure.

Lkkdfskhdkhsdfkhd.

Did he really send a keysmash? He did. He did that, as eloquent as ever. Slightly mortified, he waited to be teased for it. When no message came through, he checked his Wi-Fi connection, then his watch, and finally scrolled through his playlist and chose some music, trying to busy himself with something other than shamelessly flirting with the man currently keeping them alive way above the surface of the earth. He was probably very busy at the moment and Alec had to get a grip, especially since they were only an hour and a half into the flight.

By the time the dinner cart went through an hour later, Alec had returned a few more emails, done his budget for the month, organized all the photos in his gallery, and archived all the files on his phone that he didn’t need anymore. He also might have checked Grindr for new messages about twenty times, so he was more than a little ready for that second drink.

This time the other attendant came through, the one with the darker skin and curly hair. She was just as helpful and nice as Clary, but much less hyper, and Alec found that she had a way about her that he liked. With a knowing smile she served him up the same drink as before. She didn’t even try to tell him where it came from, which he appreciated, because at this point he was more than a little self conscious that the entire staff seemed to know the pilot was sending him things.

She took his dinner order and returned twenty minutes later with what could only amount to two standard airline meals and yet another glass of amber liquid. This one was smaller and accompanied by a bottle of water. He didn’t miss how she took his credit card and made herself look busy, before handing it back without actually swiping it. He gave her a genuine smile, very much appreciating her discretion and she patted his shoulder as she went by.

He usually didn’t like to be touched by people, let alone strangers, reserving his physical affection for his family alone. Maybe it was the alcohol warming his veins or the fact that he was currently being lavished with gifts, but he found that the small touch made him happy.

Eventually, he was relaxed enough that he felt like he may actually be able to sleep, but he still declined a pillow and blanket when they came through passing them out to everyone. There was no way he was going to be able to get that comfortable around this many strangers. He made a quick trip to the restroom and stopped in the aisle to stretch his legs and torso as much as he could in the tight space, before regrettably sliding back into his seat. He knocked back the last bit of his drink and followed it with the water, before sliding his tray back up and settling in. His phone buzzed on his leg.

How was dinner?

Pretty good, actually. I think I owe you a few hundred dollars at this point.

Nonsense, it was my pleasure.

Thank you.

Is it sad that this is probably better than any date I’ve ever had?

That’s only because you haven’t been on a proper date with me ; )

Or because I’m bad at the whole dating thing. (Did you just winky face me?)

I think, given the right company, you’d do better than you think. (Yes, yes I did.)

Hah. A high compliment.

How about this for a compliment…….You really need to warn my staff before you go stretching in the aisle, again. Nobody benefits from a passed out crew.

Who told you about that?

Oh, just a little conversation between Clary and Maia.

Ugh.

I like Maia.

AND DON’T YOU HAVE A PLANE TO FLY?!

Shhhhhhhhh. I’m a professional, remember?

And I figured you would. She likes you, too.

Nobody likes me.

That’s very much not true. I happen to have it on good authority that just a small little sliver of your stomach can cause an impressive stir.

Please stop.

Are you blushing again?

I’m not sending you a selfie.

What if I pout?

Don’t do that. I’ll be forced to take one and then I’ll die of embarrassment. Nobody needs that.

*Sighs* I rather like you living, so I’ll give you a pass this time.

So generous.

You have no idea how generous I can be.

You can’t just keep saying things like that to me.

Why not? I’m just trying to give you “sweet dreams” material.

That might be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.

Did it make you smile?

Maybe……

Yes.

Good. Regrettably, I have to go do the heavy lifting now. I’ll leave you to sleep.

Sleep. Sure. Easy. No problem.

Goodnight, Alexander.

Surprisingly, sleep came easier than he ever could have imagined it would, given the situation, which made him thankful for the food, booze, and the exhaustion that came with being up for almost twenty-four hours straight. He drifted off replaying the messages from Captain Bane in his head over and over and a relaxed smile on his face.

Alec woke with a start when the man in his row slid their window shade all the way up. He squinted against the bright sun, a clear indication that he slept longer than just a few hours. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to blink the sleep from them. When he looked around he saw that a few people were still sleeping, but most were awake and talking quietly, with various drinks and snacks. It seemed he had slept through the beverage cart and probably some announcements, and he imagined that they had to be pretty close to landing in Rome.

He hit his knee on something and looked down to see that someone had lowered his tray and placed a lidded cup of coffee, a bottle of water and a blueberry muffin on it. That’s when it all came back to him. He scrambled around in his lap to find his phone, dropping it on the floor in his haste. He leaned down in the tight space to get it and hit his head on the seatback in front of him. “Shit!”

He glanced at his seatmates and said a quick, “Sorry,” for cursing and causing a ruckus, but didn’t pay attention to them long enough to see their reactions. He had much better things to do.

He managed to fish his phone off the floor and quickly straightened, sliding down his notifications with impressive speed and selecting the one he wanted.

Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. If you need anything else, let me know.

Alec grinned and took a big gulp of his coffee before replying. He needed to wake up fast.

You are a gift, you know that?

Does that mean you’re going to eagerly unwrap me?

It’s too early for sentences like that.

It’s never too early for sentences like that.

How long until we land?

An hour and seventeen minutes.

Aren’t you getting tired?

I’m used to it, darling. Don’t worry about me.

Darling. He actively tried to keep a stupid smile from taking over his face. An hour. An hour until he exited this plane…..through the front of the plane. The front of the plane where this man currently was. Fuck. He needed a lot more coffee, a toothbrush, and a mirror STAT. He looked down at his crumpled t-shirt and jogging pants and swore under his breath. Truthfully, Alec wasn’t even sure he would be seeing him in person when they landed. He hadn’t seen him when they boarded, and so maybe it would be a repeat of that. That thought was too disappointing for him though, so he pushed it away and set about righting himself, just in case.

He drank his coffee down as quickly as he could without burning his mouth. Then he wrapped his muffin up in the package and put it in his backpack, knowing there was no way his nervous early morning stomach would tolerate it. He grabbed his toiletry bag and rushed to the bathroom before the imminent announcement that they had to stay in their seats.

Once he was folded in the cramped space, he brushed his teeth and thanked God for his recent haircut in preparation for the wedding. He spent a few minutes mussing his hair up with his fingers and a bit of water before deciding it was about as good as it was going to get. He ran his hand over his face and decided the scruff there wasn’t too bad, not bad enough to shave in an airplane bathroom, at least.

He started to stretch and then abruptly stopped, self-conscious that people would notice and he’d be the subject of mile-high gossip once again. He returned to his seat feeling a bit more human and a lot more nervous.

Clary came walking down the aisle with purpose, smiled way too brightly at him for 7 a.m. and handed him a folded up slip of paper. He hesitantly took it with a polite, “Thanks,” and immediately opened it and read the elegant script.

Meet me up front, if you want , after everyone else has deplaned.

~M.

If you want. He wasn’t sure he had ever wanted anything so much in his life.

Captain Garroway came over the intercom to let them know they were beginning their descent and Alec didn’t comprehend any of it. He put his seatbelt on when others around him did and tried to stop bouncing his leg nervously. Maybe he had a little too much coffee.

Ten minutes later they landed in Rome without incident, and Alec unbuckled his seatbelt and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Why the hell was he so nervous? He watched as the other passengers gathered their belongings and exited at an agonizingly slow pace. Twice he got up and helped someone get a bag out of the compartment to hurry the process along. He tried really fucking hard to not compare the man across from him to a sloth, like a total asshole. Finally, when it got to his row he stood up and let the man and woman go by him.

Once they had their stuff gathered, the woman unexpectedly turned to Alec and said, “I just have to know, are you some kind of celebrity or something?”

Alec balked.

The man with her looked shocked as he nudged her. “Jules!”

She shrugged. “What? It’s kind of obvious.” She turned back to Alec. “Which movies are you in?”

Alec huffed out a laugh, “What? No…”

He was relieved when her boyfriend tugged her along even if he was kind of amused at the last disbelieving look she shot him.

The last few rows went by without any more accusations of stardom, which Alec was very grateful for, and then Clary passed by him last, with a wink and a little wave. He groaned out loud and didn’t even feel bad for it.

There was movement at the front of the plane from the crew and he forced himself to not focus on any of it, but instead he pulled his suitcase out of the overhead bin and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He started walking.

It all became too real when he saw Clary and Maia exit the plane behind the passengers. That wasn’t normal, was it? That definitely wasn’t normal. Jesus Christ, his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He got to first class and the other pilot, Garroway, was standing there in front of the cockpit door, his bag in hand. He shot Alec a smug, crooked smile and left the plane without a word.

And then there he stood.

There he stood looking way more beautiful than anyone who had been working all night had any right to. His eyes were bright and kohl-rimmed, his features strong and beautiful even as he nervously rubbed the fingers of his left hand together. He really was a kind of perfect that Alec hadn’t even realized existed. He wanted to devour him.

Alec watched, a little stunned, as he stepped forward. Then, he tilted his head up in a challenge and parted his lips, and that was all it took.

Alec abandoned his luggage right there in the aisle and went to him. He reached out with both hands, pressing one hand to his hip and grabbing his shirt with the other, pulling him into him. He kissed him hard, already drowning in the scent of him, the feel of him.

They started stumbling backward, and Alec realized that he was throwing his weight around too much, but fucking hell, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even think as he pressed their lips together over and over. He wanted it hard and fast, soft and slow, any and every way he could have him.

They stumbled through the door and into the back of the captain’s chair with an “oomph” and Alec opened his eyes briefly to drink him in.

“Alec,” he said, his breath hot on Alec’s lips, eyes still closed.

“Magnus,” Alec said, stepping into him even more, closing the tiniest bit of space that was left between them. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Magnus opened his eyes and smiled at him. “Yes, I can feel that,” he said, rolling his hips against Alec’s.

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Alec said, his voice gruff.

Magnus slid a hand between them, “Oh, this isn’t just anything,” he said, rubbing fingers down Alec’s length through his pants. He curled them under the waistband and tugged, causing Alec to go from half-hard to fully erect in no time flat. “I like these pants…….a lot.”

Alec rubbed circles on Magnus’ ribcage with his thumb to distract himself so he could manage to speak a coherent sentence. “They’re perfect for long flights.”

He nearly whimpered when Magnus retracted his hand, but somehow still managed to narrow his eyes at him. “Speaking of long flights,” he said, “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

Magnus smiled at him. “Oh, really? Whatever did I do?”

At that moment he realized how much he had missed that. His smile, his cunning wit, the elegance with which he spoke, his humor. All of it. He had missed all of Magnus. Desperately. He couldn’t believe he even considered the notion that anyone he met on a hookup app would be enough.

He stepped back a little bit, trying to be serious, but he didn’t remove his hands from Magnus’ waist, because he wasn’t planning on going far, maybe ever. “Well, you were in the city where I live and you didn’t even call me,” he accused, trying not to sound too desperate and probably failing miserably.

Magnus’ eyes twinkled with mischief, which should have prepared Alec for what came next, but before he knew it Magnus had changed their positions, and Alec was being pushed back against the chair, with Magnus pressing up against him, chest to hip. He leaned in and whispered in Alec’s ear, “Mmmmmm, well, if you needed me to dick you down, all you had to do was say something.” He nibbled gently at his earlobe and Alec almost forgot how to move air.

Fucking hell, if that didn’t make him damn near want to beg. “This is me saying something.”

Magnus kissed his neck ever so lightly, which sent shivers all the way down his body. “Hmmmm, what exactly are you saying, darling?”

“Magnus,” he said, exasperated and damn near floating with desire. Or lack of oxygen. Probably both.

“Alexander,” he practically purred back.

That was the first time Alec had ever heard him say his full name and he hoped it wasn’t even close to the last time. He actually fucking whimpered, and that was when he decided this wasn’t the time to be stubborn. “I need you to dick me down,” he admitted, snaking a hand up and grabbing Magnus’ hair. He pulled his head back and away from his neck to get back some control, instead kissing him deeply, sliding his tongue into his mouth and languidly tasting him.

Magnus moaned into his mouth and returned the kiss with equal intensity, before pulling away to answer him, grinding their hips together once more for good measure.

“With pleasure, if you promise to put that beautiful mouth of yours to good use.”

Alec’s whole body was singing at that promise. “Deal.” He looked around, thinking of logistics for all the things they were about to do, and then he was snapped back into the reality of exactly where they were.

“You’re a pilot,” he said, matter of fact, even if a little breathless.

“I am.” Magnus smiled. “Are you impressed?”

“Very, but what else is new?” Alec answered.

Magnus laughed, “I have to admit this is turning out most favorable for me as well.”

Alec looked around, “How long before you have to fly out again?”

Magnus said, “A couple of days…ish.”

“Ish?” Alec asked.

“That’s what I said.”

“Can you come to my hotel later?” Alec asked.

Magnus bit his bottom lip, then grinned. “You aren’t even a little tempted to do it right here, Alec? It is a Cock-pit, after all. It’s right there in the name,” he whispered.

Alec smiled, “Wow.” Honestly, fuck him for being so sexy while delivering such outrageous lines.

Magnus laughed deeply, and Alec ran a large hand down his chest and pulled his shirt down to kiss what he could of his collar bone. “Believe me, I’m very, very tempted, but I want to get you completely naked, lay you out on a bed, and take my time with you. I’ve had enough of cramped spaces for a while.”

“How could I possibly argue with that logic?” Magnus asked.

“You can’t,” Alec said.

“Text me your hotel information and give me a couple of hours?” Magnus asked.

The “couple of hours” part had him rethinking the whole “fucking in the cockpit of this plane” business, but he pushed away from Magnus with Herculean effort and placed one last and lingering kiss to his lips.

Alec forced himself to go back into the plane to collect his belongings, feeling Magnus’ eyes on him the whole way. When he passed by him again, Magnus was leaning against the door, a knowing smirk on his face.

Alec gestured to Magnus’ uniform. “Are you going to be wearing this when you stop by?” He couldn’t resist asking.

Magnus’ eyes crinkled with his smile. “Ooh, does someone have a kink?”

“Says the man who’s obsessed with my legs,” he countered, grinning back.

Magnus laughed, and Alec thought that it might very well be the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “Get out of my airplane, Alexander.”

#asks #answers #ever-so-nice #this was so lovely #thank you #and im sorry for being such a damn hot mess #and when you soar #oh how i have to get to working on this #ive missed this version of them #fanfic #myfics #malec #malec au #pilot magnus #the one prompted by the twitter post of a pilot messaging someone on grindr

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oldbluethings · 4 years

Text

The Cold Ones (Doctor Strange fanfic)

This is a story I've been working on for a while, but haven't really come close to finishing yet. This fic is my side piece, basically.

It's the sequel to Spark and Fade (and also Children of the Old Moon, but not as much) so it might help to read SnF first. I thought I would start posting bits to Tumblr as I finished, mostly because I hate having WIPs on AO3, but I have a lot of unfinished things and I get restless, so... I'll post this to AO3 when I finish it, which will be in approximately three years.

Anyway, most people following me are Dr. Strange fans, so why the F not? Here's the first bit. I'm not doing a summary.

Also, I apparently can't do 'read more' line breaks anymore on this hellsite, so y'all just gonna have to scroll past this shit if you don't want to read it.

The Cold Ones, ch 1

Fandom: Doctor Strange, MCU

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Stephen Strange/Karl Mordo

Genre: magical mystery, angst, smut, action/adventure

Characters: Stephen Strange, Wong, Karl Mordo, Everett Ross, Original Characters

Warnings: nah

***

He swore he’d rather spend an eternity in a tentacle-infested swamp dimension than ever come back here, but here he is.

Stephen looks around at the blank white walls, the sealed door. He scratches at an electrode that's pulling irritatingly on the hair on his chest. There's only one window. He can see Everett Ross and his assorted techs and minions sitting behind the glass, staring at him. He stares back. "Don't you know any other magic people you can torment?" he calls.

Ross's cheerful voice comes through the intercom. "None half as charming as you, Strange."

He snorts, he can't help it. Ross is a bastard, but at least he's an amusing bastard. Occasionally.

There’s not much to do in here except walk in circles. Stephen steps carefully around the only other thing in the room with him—a plexiglass box, about one foot square, sitting in the center of the room. The hinged lid is locked and there are small holes in the sides, almost as if it might contain something alive. It doesn't, though, he can tell. Still, he keeps a wary eye on the box, says, “You guys don't have the budget to give me a chair?”

“Any unnecessary objects in the room might interfere with the test.” Dr. Thompson’s voice this time. She strikes Stephen as one of those people who excelled in medical school only to discover she was just slightly too much of a sociopath to ever be a good doctor. Experimenting on people is probably a better career choice for her.

He finishes another circuit of the room, lets the silence stretch on until he can't take the growing restlessness anymore. And, still, nothing happens. “What exactly am I supposed to be doing in here?”

“Relax, Strange.” Ross again, and then Dr. Thompson, “We’re just finishing up some final calibrations.”

He sighs and nods. The fact that he’s trapped in here is entirely his fault; he asked for this.

Just two weeks ago, he was sitting at a booth in his favorite coffee shop, waiting for Ross, and trying hard not to fidget.

He'd always liked this place—the coffee was good and the servers were quick and efficient. The place was never crowded. He could sit and think without worrying about being bothered. And the alley out back was always empty and didn't stink too badly, so opening a portal there was never much of a risk.

He lifted his mug of coffee with both hands—too sore on that damp, cold day to fold his stiff fingers around the handle—and took a sip, watched the people hurrying past the window in the rainy street outside.

He didn't have to wait long. The bells over the door jingled and then Everett Ross was sliding into the booth across from him, dressed in his usual gray suit—always expensive, but understated—shaking out and then fastening his umbrella closed with quick efficient movements. His hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place. Stephen wondered if the suit was meant to match the hair, or if it was just a coincidence that they were the exact same color.

Once settled, Ross folded his hands on the table and smiled his smug smile, all self-assured confidence. “Strange,” he said, and nodded. Stephen scowled back, but tipped his head fractionally.

The waitress materialized beside them and Ross ordered a coffee with cream. He watched her walk away, then turned back to Stephen. "So," he said. "You called me. And here I am."

“Yes.” Stephen cleared his throat and tried to resist the urge to tap his foot on the floor. "I called you,” he said slowly, still not quite sure if this was a good idea and stalling for just a little more time. “I... want to make a deal with you."

"Oh?" Ross feigned innocence, but that smug smile crept back onto his face. He knew exactly why Stephen had called him. Ross fiddled with the cream for a moment, before looking back up. "And what sort of deal do you think I'd be interested in?"

"Mary Jacobsen," Stephen said. "She wants to go to college. I need the police and your people to back off and leave her alone. You know she had nothing to do with the murder of her parents. She's just a kid. She has no interest in ever working for you or your agency.”

Ross made a scoffing sound. “I'm a great boss, actually. Everyone loves working for me.”

Stephen chose to ignore Ross’s joke. “And... she'll need a new identity, too, so she can't be found. There are still people out there who might be looking for her. Dangerous people."

Ross gave him a shrewd look. “People like your friend, Karl Mordo?”

Stephen didn't like the way Ross emphasized the word friend like that. He wished he could enjoy the distraction of a sip of coffee right now. But picking up the mug in front of Ross would just reveal more weakness. “Maybe.” He settled for a shrug, instead. “That's not your concern.”

Ross stared back at him for a long moment. "You're asking for a lot,” he mused, sliding his coffee mug against the napkin. They both knew he wasn't, not for someone with Ross’s connections, but in the end it didn't matter—Stephen needed what Ross had and there was no good way around it.

Ross abandoned his mug and started tapping his finger against the table. He still hadn’t taken a sip. “And what will you offer me in return?"

Stephen tightened his jaw before answering. "Name your price."

Ross's finger tapped a little faster against the table, the only sign of his interest. He narrowed his eyes at Stephen. "Okay. You already know we're interested in magic. How it works. How to… counter it, if it ever came to that. My team has some tests lined up that require subjects with abilities. They've been hard to find and recruit, for obvious reasons.”

Ross reached out and picked up the mug, finally took a sip. “So, I’d like you to come work for me. On a temporary basis. Help me out with our tests. I think that would be a fair trade to start with. And if, down the line, you need more of my help… then we can renegotiate.”

Stephen knew this was what Ross would ask for, of course. He'd already discussed the possibility with Wong and the other Masters. They'd agreed that it could be useful to see exactly what Ross’s group was interested in, what understanding of the Mystic Arts they already had, if any. Ross was a tricky bastard, but Stephen had dealt with him before. And the man did have integrity. Stephen knew he could be trusted to keep his word. The other Sorcerers had set some conditions, though, on what he could offer Ross. Stephen agreed with them.

"I'll agree to your tests as long as you can assure me they're safe. And I'm not doing more than one a week. If you want more than that you'll have to pay me for my time.”

Ross nodded, eyes eager. Money, apparently, was not an issue.

“But I'm not teaching anyone magic. And I'm not revealing the names of any other Sorcerers or the location of Kamar-Taj. If any of your people want to learn, they can seek us out and ask to be accepted just like everyone else."

Ross took another sip of coffee and pretended to think it over. "Deal,” he said.

They shook on it that day, over the table, Stephen extending his hand reluctantly to seal his fate. And now here he was, standing in a white room, staring at a plexiglass box on the ground, waiting for something to happen.

Ross had kept his word, at least, as Stephen knew he would. Mary’s got a new last name, some very convincing documents, and a spot at Molloy College for the upcoming fall semester. And the tests so far haven't been terrible, just tedious. Like performing magic in an MRI machine, which was awkward, but not difficult.

Stephen’s never been in this particular room before, though. He glances over his shoulder, but Ross and his lackeys are now engrossed in the monitors in front of them.

There's a sound, then—a faint, high-pitched hum, growing steadily louder. Stephen tilts his head curiously. It sounds almost organic, rising and falling like the call of some insect. And it seems to be coming from the box on the floor. He still can’t sense anything alive inside.

“Can you actually hear that?” Dr. Thompson asks through the intercom. She sounds surprised.

“Yeah, it’s—” He’s about to say incredibly irritating, when a blast of icy air hits him. “What the hell is that?” he mutters. There aren’t any vents it could be coming from. “Don’t tell me you’re going to give me hypothermia,” he calls.

“Are you feeling cold?” Dr. Thompson asks.

That’s odd. “Yes, I—” But the sound suddenly reaches a screech that’s almost unbearable, accompanied by a stabbing pain right above his eyes. His skull is literally vibrating. The fucking room is vibrating. Stephen grabs at his head. “Can you shut that noise off? I—”

And then the world suddenly drops away from under his feet.

#doctor strange #mcu fanfiction #strordo #stephen strange/karl mordo #my writing

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tottwritesfanfic · 4 years

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Fanfic Authors Tag Game

Thankee for tagging @moramewhq

AO3 name(s): Tottwriter, [REDACTED] Fandoms: Haikyuu!!, Digimon (a little lapsed, but I still tinker with my WIPs!), sliiiightly BNHA, and I have a TUA wip which I will someday resume. I try not to venture into new fandoms but, you know...I fail. Number of fics: I have 56 posted works, but also, uh... a few which I haven’t gotten to posting yet.

1. Fic I spent the most time on:

Um. Oh jeez. I mean, I guess nothing has overtaken Hope’s Fire just yet, because that’s the monster. Hopefully nothing else will? XD

2. Fic I spent the least time on:

Well this is genuinely a toss-up, because I have a few which I wrote for 20 minute prompt game fills, and then hardly even bothered to edit before they were thrown up on Ao3 without a backward glance.

Annoyingly, some of them are among my most popular works.

3. Longest fic:

Hope’s Fire! As I said, it’s the monster, currently clocking in at ~144k. My longest completed fic is The Ocean’s Curse though, which is 62.4k!

4. Shortest fic:

Okay so my shortest fic is actually a bit of weird experimental stuff I wrote for Starbound, which you will note I did not list in the fandoms above, lol. It’s old and weird and 351 words long... I don’t think anyone wants to read it. You don’t want to read it.

5. Most hits:

Hope’s Fire! It’s not really surprising tbh, given how long ago I started it and how many chapters it has.

6. Most kudos:

Hope’s Fire wins this one too! I bet you’re all really shocked to learn this.

7. Most comment threads:

...imma give you lot one guess.

8. Favorite fic I wrote:

fuck. Er. I dunno? I mean I write because I like writing them, you know? But honestly if I have to narrow it down... Parallel for the ‘serious’ fics, and either Press Play or (Not) Moving On for my more lighthearted stuff. It’s hard to pick when I swing between such tone extremes!

9. Fic you want to re-write:

I mean this is probably gonna sound really dumb but...kinda also Hope’s Fire??

Hear me out tho, because it’s complicated (and also I sorta already am). This fic started in 2015. I love it wholeheartedly, and I keep coming back to tinker and I wish life would stop throwing so much shit in my way and let me devote a bit more time to fic-writing so I continue it properly.

But the periodic and spaced-out returns have meant that every time I knuckle down I end up re-reading the whole fic for continuity and tone reasons. You can probably see where this is going. Each time I read my old opening I cringe. It’s just not up to the standards of my writing today and it bugs me.

If I’m being brutally honest, part of the reason I haven’t updated it in so long is that I keep getting distracted going back and tweaking/fixing old chapters rather than focusing on new ones. It’s a bad habit but one I just can’t seem to kick.

10. Share bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on:

You know, I’m actually gonna give two. I’ll drop them below a cut because this got long, but I know I have both Digimon and HQ peeps here and it’s sucky to be in the fandom that doesn’t get the love. I can’t promise when I’ll manage to get either of these posted (I’m trying to avoid adding more works to my Ao3 until they’re actually, you know, finished) but...they exist!

First up, we have Fun and Games at the Adventure Cafe

Yes, this is exactly what you think it is:

The notice on the door said “HELP WANTED” in large, sensible font.

The addendum “Enquire Within” sat below it, equally formal.

Scribbled underneath in scruffy handwriting was just one more addition:

‘as in we’re hiring. dw we know what we’re doing.’

The notice on the door the following morning was back to plain old:

HELP WANTED Enquire Within

…It lasted half a day or so, at least.

As Sora remarked later, it was a wonder they got any applicants at all. Then again, as Taichi remarked, it wasn’t as though a lot of places were taking on extra staff—which was something of an oddity as the summer approached.

“It’s that swanky place round the corner,” he said with disgust, peering out of the window. “Bastards are driving everyone out of business.”

“But not you guys, right!” piped up their current interviewee. “You’re doing great! Honestly, as soon as I saw the sign I knew I had to apply. I’ve always wanted to start my own ramen business, and I figure I ought to start out with a popular place like this and get some real experience in the industry, you know?”

“Er, yes. Right,” Sora remarked, looking over his application. “Well, Daisuke, I will have to warn you that as a new hire you’d be working front-of-house rather in the kitchen, but if you’re okay with that—”

“Eh, just tell him he’s hired already,” Taichi replied, turning back to face them with a grin. “Yamato could definitely use a hand in the kitchen sometimes, so taking on a future all-rounder makes total sense.”

From the look Sora shot him, it perhaps didn’t, but Daisuke was already practically leaping to his feet with a grin, exclaiming that they could totally rely on him, and he absolutely would not let them down and could start the next day if they needed him to.

Next up, for my HQ peeps, here’s a little snippet from Connection Problems, my longtime langushing halfway chatfic. I’m not sharing the chatfic stuff because formatting tumblr is hell, though.

Kenma always suspected that being a third year would turn out to be a pain, but he’d rather hoped his fears wouldn’t be realised within the first few weeks of the school year. Really, it’s bad enough that Kuro, Yaku and Kai have left, and that everyone else nominated him for the role of Captain (he’d talked them down to being Vice Captain instead, but that, apparently, was as low as they were prepared to go). He does not need Taketora constantly pestering him about—of all things—a chat group as well.

“Come on, I thought you and Kuroo were like, joined at the hip or something! Don’t try and act like you don’t miss him now he’s at university.”

He shrugs. “I have a phone. We’re keeping in touch.” Because, really. That’s all that matters, isn’t it? Why does everyone have to complicate things so much?

“Yeah, but, it’s not the same, right? Besides, what the hell! You spend all that time on your phone as it is. And even Fukunaga joined, right?”

Kenma glances over at Shouhei, who nods, grinning sheepishly. Drat.

“Still, I don’t have that chat app you all use,” he says. “It’s too much trouble setting it up, when I can message Kuro just fine.”

That should have been the end of it. Any rational person would have seen that it was no good, and left him in peace. Kuro would have, certainly. Not pushing—never pushing, actually. Just nudging him along a little, and even then, only when it comes to volleyball. He’s learnt all of Kenma’s limits over the years.

But the thing is, Kuro isn’t there any more. It’s just himself, Taketora and Shouhei, and okay, Shouhei never pushes—he hardly ever says anything, for that matter. But Taketora is clearly some sort of demon and he, Kenma, is being punished. Maybe he really pissed someone off in a previous life. Maybe this is a penance so he can piss someone off in his next life with a free pass. Either way, the badgering doesn’t let up.

Kenma holds out until the 27th of May. Seven weeks of hassling is more than enough for anyone.

Aaaand for tagging how about: @ahiddenpath, @humandisasterbuckybarnes, @mooifyourecows

#tag memes #fanfiction stuff #Hope's Fire #once again the author gets waaay too carried away #also if you wanna know my other ao3 you should probably DM me and also be over 18 #because *coughs*

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clevercatchphrase · 4 years

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2019 year in review

So… The 2010’s are almost over. Huh. What a decade it’s been. Hard to comprehend how much has changed in 10 years. I can barely believe that I was in high school at the beginning of this decade, and now I’m a college graduate with 2 degrees who’s been working at the same job for the last 3 years. But trying to summarize the past 10 years in a single post is a good way to give myself an existential crisis, so let’s not do that! Instead, let’s just focus on 2019 because there has been more than enough shit that’s happened to me in this year to talk about.

PART 1 OF 2: 2019 AND 2020 GOALS AND RESOLUTIONS

Huh, looking back through my archives, I apparently didn’t make a tumblr post about my goals this year. I definitely had some, though. Lemme list ‘em off real quick, and then we’ll go through them point by point.

1) Pay off all my student loans 2) Finish some song comics 3) Make art for my Redbubble account 4) Finish the first rough draft/script of a game I wanted to make 5) Practice ASL 6) Sew some stuffed animals 7) Finish some fan fictions 8) Work on Ghost Switch 9) AMVs 10) Do some original writing 11) Make illustrations for my fan fictions

Okay, first off, the student loans. I was actually SO CLOSE to successfully completing this one bUT THEN MY CAR HAD TO BE A WHINEY PISS BABY AND HAVE ITS ALTERNATOR DIE ON ME WHILE I WAS ON THE HIGHWAY AND THEN A BLOW OUT THREE WEEKS LATER.

GOD, if I had to summarize this year in two words, for me it would be “Car troubles”. I swear I spent more on auto repair in the first third of this year than I ever have just freakin’ OWNING a car. All four of my tires had to be replaced, my alternator failed and my car literally just SHUT OFF while I was driving, and I was barely able to coast into a gas station. Both my front breaks and rear breaks were worn down the metal and I only learned this when my car was barely able to stop after I had to slam the petal down full force! I went in for an oil change, and they found some problems and then I didn’t get my car back for three days! I don’t even like owning a car! I hate driving! I hate my country’s refusal to provide universal, free public transportation! I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS!

Oh-kay… number 2. Finish some song comics. I didn’t finish any. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t work on them. I have made tiny progress, but that’s certainly better than no progress. One of these song comics I hope to be realizes is going to be a collab with one of my friends. It’ll be a long-time coming as it’s pretty low priority for the both of us, but if anyone else out there was disappointed with KH3’s ending, we’re gonna have ya’ covered… With SONG!

3. Make some redbubble art. I actually did this one! Not in the way I expected, but I added (technically) 3 new designs to my redbubble in the middle of the year. If you like butterflies and dragons, I got some product for you~!

Number 4, finish a script for a game I want to make. I… thought about this. I thought about this a lot, but I never put pen to paper, so… oops. It almost happened! I debated making this my main writing project for NaNoWriMo this year, but ended up having more inspiration for another story. Maybe next year? (god, I hope not. I don’t want to wait a full year just to write something)

Number 5, practice ASL. I just straight up didn’t do this and I only have myself to blame. Still keepin’ up that Danish Duolingo streak, though. 4 years going strong and not a day missed yet.

Number 6, sew some stuffed animals. Again, another one I just straight up didn’t do, but I have an excuse of trying to save money while my car crashed and burned in every other sense except literal this year. Hopefully 2020 will be different. I’ll definitely be able to pay off this last loan within the first half of 2020, and then I can start saving for whatever I want to buy.

Finish some fan fictions was number 7, and I did this! Well, I only finished, 1, but it was a story I’ve been working on for over 3 years, and it came out to over 200 THOUSAND words long, which is the longest thing I’ve ever written, and I’m quite proud of myself. Now that the big story is out of the way, and I’ve gotten into a good rhythm of working on Ghost Switch, maybe I can squeeze in some short writing sessions more frequently. (either that, or just wait for my car to break down again and then go on a writing spree in a pepboys. The lord and the fan fic discord know that’s solely why I finished my other fic this year)

Speaking of Ghost Switch, working on it was a goal this year too, and I did that! I kept it up all year and took a vacation in November and it was wonderful. While the major plot points have been in place since before I started drawing, I still need to script each arc beyond Snowdin, but hey, by the time we get there, it’ll be 2022 so I got time. (Note, don’t do this, kids. Script your stories and comics thoroughly before publishing. The road I’m on is paved with misery and pain and it will only end in tears unless I change lanes soon)

Number 9, amvs. Do people make AMVs anymore? Idk… the last one I made was... Jesus, 5 years ago? (it was a gravity falls/fall out boy crossover, if you were curious) I’ve been wanting to do 2 more for just as long, but in order for me to do that, I’d have to spend time re-watching the shows to find the footage, and then actually edit them together, and I just don’t…. feel like it. Maybe someday, but not any day soon.

10; do some original writing. I did this! For nanowrimo! I wrote the first draft of some original fiction I’ve been planning for a year or two now and it completely sucks! But it’s on paper now and I’m happy. Will I revise and edit it? Sure, but not for a while. I want to let it sit and forget about it and look at it with new eyes months from now so I can be sure I can make it better when time comes to rewrite.

11, make illustrations for my fan fics. Now that You Monster is done, I want to go back and add pictures to it. I didn’t do any this year, but I did keep a list of scenes I wanted to draw, so I have plenty of ideas to do as warm up sketches next year~ I kinda want to stream them~

So, that was 11 goals, and I successfully fulfilled 4 of them! That’s! Not a very good ratio… QmQ So, goals for 2020. Some I’m gonna keep from this year, some I’m gonna drop and some I’m gonna add. In short I would like to,

1) Finish paying off that last student loan 2) Put more stuff on my redbubble 3) Illustrate my own fan fics 4) Sew at least one stuffed animal 5) Make an enamel pin 6) Read one new book a month 7) Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic 8) Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make 9) Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch 10) Boost my patreon

Most of these I think are pretty self-explanitory, but I’ll go into detail just a bit because I’m on a roll and typing my thoughts helps me feel less alone in the middle of the night when you’re super tired and you know you should probably go to sleep, but the toddler in you is throwing a tantrum and doesn’t wanna go to sleep just yet, but you can’t fight the progression of time either way.

Number 1- I should be able to reach this goal by the end of March. End of June at the absolute latest. Once that goal is met, my secret new year’s resolution will be unlocked as well!

Number 2- I want to put more art of my OCs on redbubble. These OCs are tied to the game I want to make. There’s already some art of them up there, but I want at least one piece for each character.

Number 3- Mostly for You Monster. Embrace the cardinal rule of fan fic and apply it to fan art. If you want to read about see art about certain ideas, scenarios, or what-ifs, you gotta make it yourself.

Number 4- I have 3 potential ideas to sew. One is definitely leagues easier than the other two and will probably be chosen if/when I have the time and materials.

Number 5- This year I got really, REALLY into the idea of making enamel pins. Unfortunately it’s a pretty big investment (like, $350 to make 100 pins you might not even sell). If this happens, it’ll probably be towards the end of the year, and if I get enough interest. I’m currently torn between making an original enamel pin and one based off Undertale. We’ll just have to see where this goes.

Number 6- Back in 2018 when I paid off one of my many student loans, I rewarded myself by spending over 200 dollars in used books. All these books had a theme; they were focused on dragons because I have a problem. I have not yet read a single one of these books I have bought, and I would like to fix that. I have, like, 20 unread dragon books, and even if I only read 12 out of 20, I would consider that an amazing accomplishment and money well spent.

Number 7- I currently have about 8 different WIPs I could work on. (well, I don’t know if I can even call them wips. More like, a general idea and a title written down.) I want to build good writing habits, and if I can write just 200 words a day, hell, even 200 words a week and just one of my 8 stories done, I would consider this goal met.

Number 8- I’m torn between making my game in unity or ren’py. I know jack shit about both. Ren’py is more user friendly, but unity will allow me more customization. (Lol, can you guess what kind of game I want to make yet?)

Number 9- I really just want the full story to be done and written incase anything goes horribly terribly wrong in my life and I find myself unable to continue making ghost switch in comic form. Then at least I can finish the story by other means, you know?

Number 10- It always surprises me every month when I get that patreon email saying I got paid. Sure, I don’t even make double digits on it, but it still awes me enough to know that people out there like my work enough to throw me a tip. I can’t thank my patrons enough for supporting me and I hope to one day be in such a good place I can update my comic/song comics/writing frequently enough without need for goals or milestones. But until that magical day arrives, money is always a great incentive for anything, I suppose. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ALRIGHT. PART 2 OF 2: SHIT THAT HAPPENED TO ME IN 2019

Cheesus crust what a year. This year started off great! Back in late January Kingdom Hearts 3 FINALLY released, and let me tell you a little story. Back in the summer of 2006 I was a 13 year old middle schooler with no way of making money other than by doing house hold chores at a rate of 25 cents a task. A few weeks ago, I had a sleep over at a friend’s house and they let me play this weird game called “Kingdom Hearts” and god, I was instantly hooked on it. That summer, I did over 800 chores, enough to earn myself 200$ and buy myself a playstation 2 (just in time for the ps3 to come out, gg me) The only games I had for the ps2 were KH1, 2, Re:CoM and Okami, and I beat them all… except Okami. Miffed that the PS3 wouldn’t allow for backwards compatibility, little 13-year-old me made a promise. I looked myself in the mirror and said “I will not buy the next playstation console until KH3 comes out, AND BOY that was probably a good choice for me to make with my level of gaming. I’m even less of a casual gamer than the average casual gamer, but I have been waiting 13 years for this piece of closure, and I even told my friends and family that “the day Kingdom Hearts 3 comes out is the day I will buy a playstation 4”. My dad apparently thought this was the funniest shit, because he literally took the day off from work that Friday to drive me on base to get the game and console (he thought it would be less crowded than a regular walmart, I suppose). I paid $400 on a ps4 pro while he bought me the game. Again, I have an impecible sense of timing seeing as the PS5 is now right on the horrizion, but just like before, I’m not buying a new console until the next KH game is released. See you in 2045, sony~. While I was at the gamestop on base, I also picked up Okami HD and The Last Guardian. For all of February and even early March, I took my time playing through KH3. And…! It was the best disappointment I’ve ever played. After a month away from gaming, I started The Last Guardian and finished it in a couple weeks. I love trico and would die for him, but trying to get 100% completion on that game is udder insanity. Okami, HD, however… again after a month break after finishing TLG, I started replaying Okami. I think I had only managed to get about halfway through the game before I just… stopped playing it on my ps2 version. I am currently SO CLOSE to getting a 100% on the ps4 version. In fact, I’ve beaten the game. I only (techinically) need 2 more trophies to be done; 1st, escape the water dragon without being eaten, 2nd, I need to beat that dumb stupid race with Kai, in order to get the last bead on my rosary, as well as the top dog trophy. I hate her so much. I hate this race so much. It’s awful and bad.

Flash forward to December! Earlier this month I was at Barnes and Noble, buying myself a planner for 2020. I exit the store and notice that there’s a gamestop across the street. For shits and giggles I go inside to look at their game selection, and I find KH 1.5 and 2.5. Now, my PS2 died a few years back (it just won’t read my discs anymore, I don’t know why) and I haven’t been able to replay any of my other kingdom hearts games since. If you had seen me the day I finished kingdom hearts 3, after the ending credits rolled, you would have heard me say “Man…. I wish I could play kingdom hearts 2 again”. AND NOW I CAN, ALONG WITH BBS which I had never even played yet, but knew the story of. I’ve restarted playing kh1, and I was so happy to hear that familiar music when I booted the game up for the first time. While at the game stop, I also picked up Rime and Tearaway, two games that had looked interesting to me. At the time of writing, I’ve finished Rime and am 25% done with tearaway. Rime was…. An interesting experience. I learned about it through Jacksepticeye’s channel a couple years back and thought the art style was enticing. For a super casual gamer like me, I found the puzzles just the right level of challenging and exploring was a blast! The music gave me VERY strong Princes Mononoke vibes, but the overall story left something to be desired. Overall I had fun, and enjoyed completing this game to 100%. Now for tearaway. Can I just say this game is super fucking adorable? I know the original was on the ps vita and the gameplay there was arguably more diverse and imaginative, but this game is just so fucking cute I don’t care?? ALSO, this game’s sound track is ABSOLUTELY incredible and I’ve only heard the first fourth of it! Listen to The Orchards, Pig Riding, and Gibbet Hill Pilgrimage for a taste of their wonderful beats and fantastic use of string and woodwinds! God, I’m so excited to get some more games in 2020. I’m proud to say I currently own more ps4 games than I ever did with my ps2 (and now the majority AREN’T Kingdom Hearts titles!), and I’m still hoping to play Journey, The Witness, and Abzu before everything becomes ps5.

What else happened to me this year. Oh, I went to a doctor for, like, the first time in seven years. I also had my blood drawn for the first time ever, and the nurse said the most disturbing thing to me while she did it. Now, whenever I get shots, I refuse to look. I did that here. So she thought it would be appropriate to say to me “Can you feel your blood leaving your body?” Lady… You can clearly see I am uncomfortable with what is happening here. Why, of all the things you could say, did you choose to say that. Unfortunately, while my doctor is nice, she keeps wanting to run tests on me, that I just cannot afford with my current salary, and my monthly insurance is about to go up to 200$ a month, so I’ve cancelled my next appointment with them, and don’t plan to go back until it’s absolutely necessary. Capitalism is fun, guys. Preventative healthcare is for wusses.

I started going to a chiropractor on a monthly basis. Story time- I don’t know when it started, but sometime late last November I began to notice that I had a headache that just... wasn’t... going away? And each day it was starting to get a little worse. It made it hard for me to find a comfortable position to sleep, it made it hard for me to be in bright areas or move fast. So I said to myself “Okay, if this headache persist through the month of december, then something is proooobably wrong and I should go see someone about it. And hoo-boy were thing wrong with me. By the time this January rolled around, I couldn’t even stay on my feet for more than a few hours without it physically hurting to just BREATHE. So I started going to this chain called The Joint (A+ name, I know). THey aksed me “How are you doing?” I said “I’m in pain” and they said “We can help fix that!”. I’ve only been to a chiropractor once before in my life a few years back after my freshmen year of college because I began to notice my hips weren’t able to support me? LIke, I would lie on my back, and I couldn’t push my hips up when my feet were flat on the floor. I also couldn’t climb anything steep, because my legs just couldn’t push me up if my knee had to bend more than 90 degrees when I lifted my leg up. (Turned out both my hips were apparently out of place). This time only one of my hips were out of place (which they fixed. they said one of my legs was an inch “longer” than the other because I had been leaning all my weight on one leg when I stand). But two of my ribs were apparently “Stuck” which was why it was hurting for me to just breathe, and one of my shoulders was missaligned too, causing one of my trap muscles to constantly be streched, which was pulling on my skull, and causing the headache. Anyway, after they popped all my bones back into place, I still felt terrible, but by god, that night was the first time in weeks I was able to sleep without a migrane. A chiropractor can’t magically heal your arthritis, or fibro, but I definately think they have merit to keeping your posture good and helping your body with things like circulation. 10 outa 10, would recomend. It’s all the fun of getting your neck snapped without the dying!

Earlier this month I got together with two of my friends and we baked Christmas cookies. It was a lot of fun, as well as a great learning experience. A member of my family has a gluten allergy, so we used rice flour for most of the cookies. We learned this is a bad idea! The cookies will just fall apart! A few member’s in one of the friend’s family have nut allergies. Other friend and I knew this and were careful to avoid cookie recipes with nuts, bUT THEN COMPLETELY FORGOT THAT ALMOND MILK AND ALMOND EXTRACT COUNT AS NUT. IN FACT, ALMOND EXTRACT IS PURE CONCENTRATED NUT JUICE AND WE FELT SO BAD FOR ALMOST ACCIDENTALLY POISONING THE FAMILY.

Earlier this year me and these same friends took a field trip to Hobby Lobby and just dicked around the store for a couple of hours. It was super fun, 11 outa 10, would recommend, a great date idea for your artsy S.O.

Back in May I went to a wedding for the first time in my life. (well, not true, but the first one I could remember) we left at 5am, drove 5 hours to get there, hung out at a zoo and spent the night in a la quinta before the wedding day. I slept on the bathroom floor because my mom was snoring too loud in the main room and keeping me awake, and the rest of the day was just spent me trying to keep myself together because I was pissed off and tired.

Other than all of that, nothing really major happened to me this year. I guess one more thing I’ve tried to do this year is started the process of breaking certain internet addictions so I can use my free time for more personal projects. Seriously, I found myself watching way too much youtube and following blogs that didn’t even make me happy. I had a personal intervention with myself where I sat down and asked myself, “why do you watch these videos and youtubers? Why do you follow these blogs? Do you really enjoy their content? Do you really care? If you stopped watching/following them, would you even notice?” After critically thinking it over, I’ve found myself unfollowing several channels and blogs and suddenly I feel so much happier. I thought I would miss it, but I realized I didn’t really care if I saw their content or not. I wasn’t missing much. And now I feel like I have more time to draw, read and write. If you think you spend too much time consuming and not enough time creating, I suggest you try and de-clutter your internet habits as well. It’s done wonders to un-fuck my headspace.

And… well, that about sums up my year. How are your holidays going? Anything fun, exciting, dramatic happen to you this year? I hope your new year is warm and safe! Good night, everybody!

#new year's resolutions #year in review #long post #(seriiously this think is like 3k words)

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blurglesmurfklaine · 4 years

Text

Cornelia Street (7/9)

A/N: oh my god they were quarantined

yes. It’s one of those fics.

AU, obvs

I’m posting as I go and idk how many parts this is going to be, likely won’t be very long but I literally don’t know what I’m doing and should i be starting yet another WIP? definitely not but fuck it lets fucking go

Title is from T-swizzles Lover album, I’m OBSESSED

Summary: Three years ago, Kurt and Blaine went on a disaster of a date and never quite got off on the right foot. Now, just before they graduate from NYADA, there’s a national outbreak and they’re both self-quarantined in a mutual friend’s apartment.

Read On AO3

On Tumblr: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Part 7

Kurt runs his hands through his hair, shaking off the last suds of his shampoo out of it before shutting off the water. Sara Bareilles’s voice is still leading him to thoughts about Blaine, and how he led him in the dance yesterday with the gentle swing of his hips.

It had been nice, to say the least. Dancing with Blaine in his arms had felt like he’d finally found the missing puzzle piece he’d been searching for his whole life. Waking up next to a still sleeping Blaine should’ve been awkward, but only felt like the most normal thing in the world, a routine that was way too easy to settle into and—

Shit.

He is in way too deep and he hasn’t even kissed Blaine yet.

Woah, yet? That’s a little presumptuous of you, isn't it?

If he’s going to. If Blaine even wants him to.

Kurt needs to stop thinking about Blaine ASAP, but his brain has made it clear that that’s not quite an option at the moment, so instead, he just turns the cold knob on the shower.

He heads to the kitchen when he’s done, and he’s met with the sight of Blaine humming along to Despacito while he finishes cleaning the dishes they’d used for dinner last night. Kurt can’t keep from cracking a smile.

“Having fun?”

Blaine, obviously a little surprised by Kurt’s presence, lifts his head and his mouth twitches up into a grin. “Actually, yeah. I used to hate doing the dishes when I was a kid, but then I got this job at a fast food pizza place. I realized that as long as I was washing dishes, I didn’t have to deal with customers. It sort of pavloved me into liking it.”

“God, that's such a mood.”

“The other explanation is that I’m training to be a fifties housewife.” Blaine shakes his head and makes a face, placing a plate on the drying rack. “Sorry, that was dumb,” he mutters.

“No, it was funny,” Kurt raises an amused eyebrow. “And if we’re going by the fifties’s standards, I suppose that makes me the workaholic husband.”

“Well, have fun at work, honey!” Blaine calls out, face twitching up into a grin as he holds back a chuckle.

Kurt walks up to the door as if he’s going to head out (which, they both know he can’t actually do) and pulls a coat still hanging on the rack by the frame of it. He drapes it over himself and waves to Blaine. “I will, make sure to pick up the kids early from school today!”

“Oh yeah, little Feta has a soccer tournament this afternoon, doesn’t he?”

“Feta?” Kurt raises an eyebrow.

Blaine shrugs. “Yeah, like fettuccine Alfredo? Alfredo is a valid name.”

“Okay, if you get to name our son that then I’m naming our daughter Audrey, as in Audrey Hepburn.”

“I support that.”

“Now that our kids have proper names, I suppose I should be getting to work, huh?” Kurt asks. “Those taxes aren’t going to file themselves. And I have a long commute from here to the computer.”

He turns to leave, but Blaine laughs and quickly grabs the nearly empty box of cereal on the table and holds it out towards Kurt. “Wait! Don’t forget your briefcase!”

“Silly me! How could I forget, thank you!”

Kurt doesn’t even think about it—he’s too into this strange and weirdly fun game they’ve set up. As Blaine hands him the cereal box in lieu of a fake briefcase, Kurt tucks it underneath his arms and leans forward to press a quick peck to Blaine’s lips. Blaine reciprocates, lightly placing a hand behind Kurt’s neck.

It isn’t until they pull away that Kurt realizes what he’s done.

They go absolutely still for a moment, eyes locked, neither daring to move any closer or further from the other.

Kurt wonders for half a second if he accidentally crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

And then the next half of the second Blaine’s lips are on his, hands grabbing desperately at his waist, so sudden and intense that the momentum sends them stumbling backwards a little. They don’t stop until Kurt’s back hits the table, and he sinks his hand into Blaine’s satin soft curls.

The gesture elicits a small gasp from Blaine, who slides his hands down Kurt’s back and tugs so that their bodies are flush against each other’s. Kurt reciprocates, pulls him closer, kisses him harder until they’re just this chaotic bundle of bumping noses and roaming hands.

They finally pull away, Kurt’s blue eyes wide as a prairie because he had wondered if Blaine was picking up on the same thing he was and… well, he certainly doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

“Sorry,” Blaine mumbles, shaking his head with a sheepish smile on his face. “I uh, don’t know what came over me.”

Kurt doesn’t hesitate to pull Blaine back in for another embrace. “Me neither,” he breathes. And in all honesty, he doesn’t really care. All he knows is that this quarantine thing just got a lot more bearable.

“I don’t think you’re playing this right.”

“Nonsense, I used to play this every day at lunch with the New Directions. Cards were easily the best way to pass the time. Santana even showed us this one game called Chingasos… which is surprisingly violent for a card game…”

After making out for… quite a long time (like, a really, really long time, not that Blaine’s complaining), they’d set some blankets down in the living room floor and exchanged card games.

Kurt is currently sitting across from Blaine, cross legged and explaining the rules of Spits as they play. There are two piles, and the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards by placing them on top of either pile, but only in numerical order. If both piles have the same number card, you could slap the top of the piles, say “spits”, and the opponent would have to take all the cards.

They both place 2s on either piles of cards, and Blaine jumps to press his hands flat on top of them. Kurt has been playing this game for years, though, and is too quick for Blaine, so his hands land on top of Kurt’s instead of the cards.

“Eat ‘em and weep,” Kurt says with a cocky grin, shoving the pile of cards towards Blaine.

“Isn’t it read ‘em and weep?”

“You’re stalling.”

Blaine mocks a scoff, mostly because he is. “Are you implying that I’m causing a distraction in order to prevent my loss?”

“Okay, nobody talks like that, you’re definitely stalling.”

“No, this is stalling,” Blaine says. He tugs Kurt’s hands and rolls backwards on the blankets, pulling Kurt on top of him and leaning up to kiss him and abandoning their card game. He can feel the smile in Kurt’s lips and can’t contain a grin of his own.

When they finally release each other, Kurt lets out a contented sigh and rests his head on Blaine, draping his arms over his body, fitting in in every space Blaine didn’t even know was waiting to be filled.

“This is gonna sound weird, and kind of random… but I feel really safe with you,” Kurt says.

Kurt’s head, resting on Blaine’s chest, lifts when he laughs.

“Heard that, coronavirus?” he jokes. “Actually,” he continues, starting to absentmindedly trace shapes on Kurt’s back with his finger. “It’s funny that you say that, because you kind of make me feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff.” He realizes that may not have come out exactly as he wanted it to. “I mean, like, in a good way. Not in a I’m worried you’re going to push me off way.”

“You’re probably just about the only person I can stand in a ten mile radius, currently, so I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“What about Adam?” Blaine finds himself asking. His heart is a canon in his chest, and he wants to pretend he doesn’t know why he asked that question, but he knows exactly why.

He’s falling fast and hard for Kurt, and if he runs back to Adam the moment Blaine stops being his only choice, again, it’s going to suck. He’s heard stories about people who got stuck in elevators for twelve hours and then eloped the second they were rescued. And then the inevitable divorce that followed.

Blaine doesn’t want Kurt to want him because he’s bored; he wants Kurt to want him the same way he wants Kurt.

“Adam and I over for a reason,” he finally replies calmly.

The urge to just stupidly blurt out Which is? is so strong, and Blaine’s honestly surprised he doesn’t. Apparently, though, his silence is enough of a cue for Kurt to continue.

“I—and feel free to stop me… if it gets too weird or too–if you don’t want to hear this.”

“You can say anything to me,” Blaine answers without hesitation. Kurt’s cheeks pressing harder against Blaine’s chest tell him that he’s smiling.

“Okay… I think I just got swept up in the idea of finally being in a relationship, or of finally having someone who wanted me that I didn’t care if we weren’t necessarily right for each other. I mean, at the time I certainly didn’t have enough experience to know that it wasn’t right.”

Blaine hummed in encouraging agreement, urging Kurt to keep going.

“I think we were both hoping the other would evolve into the person we wanted them to be, if that makes sense. Like, I’m… I’m pretty naturally guarded. I don’t always wear my heart out on my sleeve and I think that bothered him.”

Blaine nods. Though he doesn’t feel like Kurt is particularly withholding around him, he can see why people would think that. Kurt has told Blaine all about what he endured during high school. That would be enough to make anyone a little wary of the world.

“And I don’t know if there are just parts of me I wasn’t willing to share because I’d be sharing them with him,” Kurt continues. “But there were parts of my life—little things, I’m not in like organized crime or anything—that were just for me. I’m fairly social, but if I needed an hour alone after he had friends over, he took it really personally.

“On the other hand, I always thought he took life way too seriously. Every single show or song we listened to had to have some sort of profound deeper meaning or else he labeled it as trash. What an exhausting way to live!”

Blaine chuckles. “I know what you mean. I dated Sebastian for a while, and he would constantly talk about his summer trips to Europe, which was interesting at first but after a few weeks I realized that that seemed to be the entire focal point of his personality.”

Kurt laughs. “Yeah…”

“Anyways, you were saying?”

“Oh, right... well, back in December I was watching When Harry Met Sally with Rachel and it was that scene where Sally says “We never do fly off to Rome at a moment’s notice”. And I just… realized. I went to get things from his place that night and applied to live in the NYADA dorms again for the next semester.

“I guess it was just never right with Adam. It took me way too long to figure it out. I think I might’ve figured it out sooner if we’d finished our date,” he mumbles absently, like he’s just thinking out loud.

Blaine has to bite his cheek to keep from smiling so damn hard.

They lay in easy silence for a moment, holding each other until a high pitched tinny noise interrupts them. Kurt whips out his phone and Blaine sees the Snapchat notification.

“Oh my god,” he sputters out incredulously.

“They really made a Quarantine filter,” Kurt says in awe.

Kurt unlocks his phone and presses the button to access the filter. It’s greyscale, with a blinking red dot in the corner, like it’s supposed to mimic a found footage movie. At the bottom of the screen is written “Day ___ of Quarantine”.

“Come on, let's take a picture,” Kurt says, casually hiking an arm behind Blaine’s neck and settling his head higher up in Blaine’s chest. He quickly snaps the picture of them cuddled up together.

Blaine watches Kurt, grinning when he types out the caption in two separate blocks of text.

Do you have your quarantine buddy?

Yes, I have my quarantine buddy.

Part 8

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #cornelia street #MY BAD YALL IM GONNA TRY AND FINISH IT WITHIN A WEEK TO MAKE UP FOR IT LMAOOOOOOO

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