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#and maybe some oc’s if I’m feeling zesty
blended-ice · 7 months
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what if I became a multifandom art blog
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mamamittens · 1 year
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Order Up!
Date Night is here!
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From 2-1-23 to 2-14-23 my ask box is functioning as a date generator! (If I get overwhelmed I'll temporarily close my ask box while I catch up)
All you have to do is bring yourself (whatever you may be AFAB, AMAB, F!, M! or any combination therein as long as I can reasonably guess what kind of clothes you wear and pronouns you use) and at least one character of your choice. (And what fandom they’re of, naturally, just to make sure the right person shows up!)
For details about yourself, feel free to add small physical descriptors and personality if you’d like a little mention of them. Eye, hair, skin color, hair type, height, and body type are fine! It doesn’t have to be a massive block of text (for the sake of your hands while typing, I wouldn’t recommend it either). And for personality, you can include anything that you feel would be relevant to the situation. If you tend to crack jokes when you’re nervous or have a hard time keeping eye contact, throw that bad boy in there!
Who can you date? Any character that is canonically 18 or older and fictional! And please, no lolis or shotacons, I don't care if they're technically 5,000 years old if they're still built like a grade schooler.
If I’ve written for you, specifically for your OC before now, you may ‘bring’ them to the date instead of yourself. This is just because I’m already familiar with them and there won’t be any misunderstandings about said character that you’ve created. If I’ve written for you before and it was a reader insert you can simply call back to that as long as you’re not anonymous.
Then you must simply grab one of each ‘treat’ and enjoy your date! Alcoholic drinks and shots are explicitly NSFW and so their responses will be marked as such (so if you’re underage and asking anyway you likely won’t get to see the response).
I will fulfill the asks as I am able, so please do be patient! I figured I’d try something a bit new and zesty this time!
Chocolate – Where?
Toffee – at home
Caramel – Fancy restaurant
Cream – holiday/work-ish function
Nuts – Casual dinner
Cherry cordial – Movie date
Hard Candy – Relationship?
Lollipop – Total strangers
Candy Cane – Brief fling
Lemon Drops – Casual Friends
Konpeito (Japanese star candy) – Childhood friends
Mints – Blind date
Pop Rocks - Arranged marriage (Watermelon for engaged and Strawberry for Married)
Soft Candy – Reception?
Gummy worms – Nervous nerds
Gummy bears – Confident and loving the energy
Candy corn – Enemies to lovers speed run
Fruit Roll – Love at first sight
Cotton Candy – Sweet from the start
Drink – How does it go?
Soda – The start of a very interesting relationship!
Water – Eesh! Maybe we got off on the wrong foot? (With Lemon for sour end and with Strawberries for sweet end)
Alcohol* - In the bedroom!
NSFW +18 ONLY
*Alcoholic shots – Kinks! Phrase it as “Shot of X for (character A)” for them to receive it specifically. There isn't a limit for shots but keep it reasonable lol, I'm probably not going to write 10K on one date ask because you asked for everything and the kitchen sink.
White Russian – Creampie/Cum play
Hot Damn – Praise kink
Mind Eraser – Degradation
Afterburner – Choking/breathplay
Jell-o shot – Edging
Pineapple Upside Down Cake – Oral
Alice in Wonderland – Size Kink
Motor Oil – Marking
Kamikaze – Temperature play (Served hot or cold for temp preferences)
Jager Bomb – Rough Sex (Extra strong is hate sex)
Green Tea shot – Soft Sex
Pink Schnapps – Dom/Sub (The person receiving this shot will be designated the ‘Sub’)
Black Jack – Restraints
Brain Hemorrhage - Overstimulation
Warning! Some shots may interact in unexpected ways! Keep this in mind when ordering! Especially if you have squicks that may arise in the mixed combination!
Woah! An Extra special treat category! (Entirely Optional!)
Mochi Ice Cream – Yandere
Vanilla – Obsessive
Red bean – Possessive
Grean tea – Delusional
Strawberry – Protective
Coffee – Manipulative
So, in theory, what would an order look like? (Using one of each category)
“Hi! I’d like a chocolate cream, candy corn, and a soda with a shot of Mind Eraser, extra strong Jager Bomb, and Afterburner for myself with Aizawa from MHA. I’m M!AFAB with brown hair and eyes, pale skin, with a tongue piercing and a preference towards masculine clothing! I like to go by "Sky". I also have a tendency to not know when to shut up and like teasing people in a fight. If it’s alright, I’d also like him to have a red bean mochi.”
It doesn’t have to be exactly like this, or even in this order specifically, so long as it’s clear what you want included. If you have a squick that’s reasonably associated with one of the items you ordered, feel free to ask me to ‘hold’ that aspect. For example, with a chocolate cream (work function date), if you feel really uncomfortable with boss/subordinate dynamics, you can let me know! For an NSFW example, you could ask me to ‘hold the White Russian’ for it to basically be safe sex.
Remember, once it's in my ask box, the ball is in my court! So be polite, patient, and bear in mind that I'm ONLY working with what is in the singular ask! I'm unaware of a character limit for asks, but try to keep it in one so I can easily sort through them if need be or make it VERY clear that it's yours across multiple asks if you're asking anonymously!
Hope you all enjoy the event!
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seekerstone · 3 years
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mug brownie recipe ✨
you will need: 
1 1/2 tbsp of butter (roughly), because you ran out of milk days ago and haven’t felt like getting more
2 packets of instant hot cocoa, because you lack spatial awareness and love to ask yourself “what’s the worst that could happen” 
a splash of water. eyeball it! precise measurements are for tools
a mug, preferably one you really love, so that the realization you may never get the chocolate off will throw some fun anticipation in the mix
gather assorted ingredients. melt the butter first, remembering after you do so that butter burns easily. not to worry, apparently not in 30 seconds! 
add the first hot cocoa packet. stir it in. it should appear to form a batter. look at how little real estate it takes up in the mug and add another packet. at this point, shrug and ask yourself “what’s the worst* that could happen” 
* you will find out shortly 
the batter will now no longer resemble batter. add that splash of water and stir some more. success! we have batter again! realize it still isn’t taking up even half the mug and consider adding another packet. decide not to because you may want actual hot chocolate later 
put it in the microwave for 1 minute. immediately zone out and think about your beloved ocs. or don’t, i’m not your boss. look back at the microwave 31 seconds later and realize hey! that’s overflowing! 
hurriedly take it out of the microwave before it ruins that, too. it should be bubbling and making quite a lot of noise at this point. let it cool down a little (10 seconds should suffice) then put it back in for the remaining 29 seconds. if you’re feeling really zesty, accidentally hit the “add 30 seconds” button instead of start, and then just leave it. what’s the worst that could happen? 
monitor mug VERY CLOSELY so that you can open the microwave every 10-15 seconds as it overflows 
after 1 minute 30 seconds or so, it should no longer be overflowing. grow concerned at its behavioral change and take it out. it should be actively boiling at this point, complete with steam and a suspicious burning smell
look at the chocolate mixture coating your mug. you will never get it clean. this isn’t what sarahz wanted for it, but at least you are living up to the “young” and “dumb” part 
leave it on the counter for several minutes in fear of what you have created. when you last looked, it should have been spongy and decidedly NOT a brownie nor a cake 
you could have just used ubereats if you wanted dessert this bad
tentatively creep over to inspect it. it should resemble an alien hive, or perhaps a fungus. the smell ought to be distinctly burnt still. this is not a brownie and god weeps at having made you
(optional: rest your fork on your computer only to immediately realize that your computer, like the rest of your apartment, is covered in cat hair. maybe it’ll improve the taste)
the texture should be tough and also horrifyingly stretchy. when you attempt to pry off a piece with your fork, make sure liquid oozes out from beneath. this means you did not guess right about how long it would take 
struggle to get the bite off your fork. first be surprised that it actually tastes pretty good! then get hit with the horrid aftertaste. spit it back into the mug and contemplate the sheer nightmare that lies before you, now that you have to try and wash your mug
congratulations! your brownie is complete!
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almostkoo · 4 years
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Destiny | Park Jimin
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pairings: park jimin x oc
summary: having a green thumb is a blessing that you didn’t seem to have, the working theory was that plants hated you and tending to your aunts garden seemed to prove that but maybe the handsome young man that keeps finding his way into your aunts garden can help you whip it back into shape
word count: 2.9k
warnings: unedited, language (of course )
author’s notes: it’s another portion of my spooktober story collection, i was kinda of excited to write this one but still and yet very nervous as always i hope you all enjoy it :)
You trudged on your worn out boots ,letting out a sigh you ran back your plan you set up for your day. Weeding out the garden, checking on the hydrangeas, and planting the tomatoes. You thought back those three things over and over again. Feeling like you were forgetting something. 
Over the few weeks you had been watching over the garden, your aunt's garden to be exact it seemed like everything managed to go straight to shit. Your aunt had fallen sick and with you two being each other’s only remaining family you went back to her house to watch over her until she got better and watching over her meant her house also… and the garden. It just seemed as though the soil underneath you hated you. Trying everything you could find on the internet, talking and singing to the plants, using special growing techniques and tools that promised growth, but nothing happened. When your aunt finally gets better and sees that her beloved garden had just about washed down the drain you didn’t know how she was gonna react.
You had to figure out something and figure it out fast.
Resting back on your knees you wiped away at the sweat above your brow. Something was wrong with the hydrangeas, something new that you couldn’t exactly place what it was. Or even where to begin attempting to figure out the problem at hand. Letting out a breath in frustration you chucked the small gardening shovel out of your hands. 
“Fuck!” you shouted, shaking your head. You dropped your head, when you heard a small “ow”. You looked up and you were faced with one of the most beautiful men you had laid eyes on. You jumped up to your feet quickly, you realized the man that seemed to have a glow around him (most likely from the sun) was a few inches taller than you, soft brown eyes met your own and a cute button nose and plush full lips curved around his smile. He was a slender young man dressed in all white, the dirt from the shovel you threw caused a small brown scuff mark to appear on the toe of his fresh white shoes.
“I am so sorry I didn’t mean to hit you at all. I didn’t even know you were standing there.” you quickly apologized. The man threw his hands up, causing you to pause your rambling. 
“It’s okay.” his voice came out smooth and deep. “It’s nothing that can’t wash away with a little bit of soap and water.”
“I just..I didn’t see you there. I’m getting so frustrated with these flowers and this garden I just don’t know what to do.” you rambled, dropping your hands down to your sides. The man took a step closer to you, tilting his head to the side examining the purple hydrangeas that seemed to wither further the way you stared at them. 
“I’m sorry how rude of me I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Jimin, I live next door. I’ve never seen you around here before.” he stated. 
“Oh I’m just here watching over my aunt while she’s on bedrest. I have to take care of the house” you threw your hands up gesturing to the various plants that surrounded you two. “and subsequently the garden too. I’m convinced the flowers saw me coming and just decided to die on the spot just to do something different besides growing nice and pretty for my aunt.” Jimin let out a cute laugh, eyes crinkling up into crescents.
“You seem very frustrated as if the shovel against my foot wasn’t enough indicator.” Jimin said.
“I just” you sighed. “I have no clue what I’m doing and my aunt loves this garden so much that I just don't want to let  it fall apart in her absence but I’ve tried everything to get this garden together.” Venting your frustrations to this stranger, Jimin came easy and made you feel better in the process. But still and yet the garden itself was a hot mess. You loved a challenge but hated feeling incompetent. Tending to the garden made you feel dumb as a rock. As if the garden was trying to communicate to you but you both were speaking two completely different languages.
“Well I have a garden of my own that I tend to and I think it’s coming along pretty well. I usually come over and sit with your aunt while she works around here. We have many of the same plants too. I can help you if you want.”Jimin offered, smiling again. You thought about it briefly. Your aunt hadn’t mentioned Jimin to you before and she normally told you all of her daily happenings and people she ran into. But Jimin seemed to have an air of comfort around him, maybe he knew what he was talking about.
“Sure, but my phone is in my pocket so no funny business or I’ll call the cops.” you stated sternly pointing a finger in Jimin’s direction.  He smiled, kneeling down in the dirt in front of the hydrangea. He didn’t seem to care about his white slacks getting dirty. You watched as he examined the tools and Miracle Gro you had sitting out and then the flower. He held one of the flowers from the bush in his hands, softly rubbing his thumbs over the petals. Jimin seemed to be talking to himself as he looked the flowers over. He picked up a handful of soil, leaning in and spreading it around the bottom of the bush. Then reaching for the watering can, sprinkled water over the top. Then back to the soil at the bottom and patting it down, he sang as quietly as he seemed he could. He stood up dusting his hands clean of the soil.
“All done!” he exclaimed. You made a face of disbelief at him. 
“That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna do? Really?” you put your hands on your hips.
“Didn’t you just see all that? The hydrangea is gonna prosper and grow now.” Jimin pouted.
“You didn’t do anything more than I did!” you shouted.
“Well you just wait. Give it a few hours and when you come out here in the morning, you’re gonna see all of what I did. I just have a certain touch and a language that speaks to the plants.” Jimin said.
“Jimin, I’m not gonna lie to you this seems like a crock of bullshit in all honesty.” Jimin’s lips parted.
“Alright, I see. I’ll be back in the morning. If nothing happens then nothing happens. But if my methods worked. I want a glass of iced tea.” he stated.
“A glass of iced tea?” you asked, cocking up an eyebrow. Jimin made a face as if he was thinking
“You know what?” he snapped his fingers. You waved your hand signaling for him to continue. “I want it sweetened. Extra sweet, with sugar cubes on the side. Maybe a lemon if I’m feeling a little zesty.” he said, turning to walk away. 
“I mean it,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” You looked down at the hydrangea that remained in the same screwed up condition you found it in this morning. The nerve of that guy. Never trust a stranger, you thought to yourself, returning to examine the floral bush in front of you.
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The next morning when you woke up, repeating the same routine you had been settled in for the past few weeks. You trudged out to the garden again completely ready to accept defeat against the flowers and various vegetables in the garden. Morning sun beaming down at you, forcing you to pull your floppy hat down further. Walking up to the hydrangea bush your lips parted in shock. The bush that was there yesterday, browning and withering instead, was lively, the purples and whites bright. You knelt down on hands and knees staring at the bush as if you were attempting to find a hidden camera of some sorts. 
“What the fuck?” you mumbled under your breath.
“Well I see it worked.” immediately recognizing the voice from behind you belonging to Jimin. You hopped up, dusting off your overalls. Jimin stood cocking his head to the side with a slight smile on his face. The outfit he wore was different than yesterday, all blue instead of all white he wore a soft baby blue, his brown hair framing his face perfectly, parted down the middle. 
“I.. I don’t know how you did it, this is crazy. What’s your secret?” you asked. Jimin threw his head back, shoulders shaking from his laughter. 
“I can’t do that. There’s no way to.” Jimin smiled. You felt your brows furrow in. A look of confusion was probably making itself home on your features at this point. 
“What do you mean? You literally didn’t do anything I didn’t do.”  you sighed. 
“That’s what it seemed like?” Jimin feigned like he was thinking. You shoved him playfully. 
“I guess I owe you some iced tea.”
“With the sugar cubes on the side please.”
You and Jimin returned to your aunts back porch looking over the garden placed in the far left corner of her vast backyard. He sipped on his iced tea that turned into sweet tea after he dumped half the container of sugar cubes in it. Taking his first sip inside at the kitchen counter, relaxing into a closed eyed smile. While your face turned up in disgust at the sight. 
“So what are you?” you questioned, breaking the silence. Jimin choked on his sweet tea, spluttering and ending with a cough. 
“What are you talking about?” Jimin squeaked. 
“You must be a botanist or something. Right?” you asked, confused about Jimin’s reaction. He hesitated before answering, as if the cogs were turning in his head he snapped his fingers.
“Right! Sorry about that, the tea went down the wrong pipe. I own a flower shop with my best friend. I just love plants so much. They’re so easy to maintain and care for. It’s so easy to pour love into them and reap the benefits of it. It’s the best way to physically see love you know?” Jimin smiled yet again. His smile was pretty, it seemed to make him glow, you almost felt like you were being spoiled by getting to see him smile so much. 
“I get it. Plants seem to hate me, but I remember once when I was a child my aunt took me to these botanical gardens and the flowers were just so beautiful. I wish I had a green thumb like she did. I feel like it would better my appreciation for them.”
Jimin scoffed, placing his glass down on the bannister. “The plants don't hate you. Look I know this may sound crazy but plants sometimes can be selective to who they bloom for. You have to be able to understand them and them understand you. It’s a hard language to speak, but everyone has to learn it. You have to have a certain touch” he reached out gently grabbing your hand that was resting at your side. “You have to have the correct amount of gentleness and a subtle warmth to your hands. It’s having a good balance of peace and harmony. They have to feel that.” You looked down at your intertwined hands, a slow heat creeping up on you as you looked up catching Jimin’s glance. Your phone started ringing loudly from your pocket. Jimin broke his hand away from yours first as you stammered trying to reach for your phone. Your aunt was calling you, asking you if you could bring her a snack. 
“I’m sorry” you apologized to Jimin. “I have to go real quick, my aunt wants me to get her something. I’ll be right back if you can wait.” Jimin threw his hands up, waving them. 
“That’s alright. I have something I want to give to you. I’ll be back this evening with it.”
“Is it a diamond?” you joked. Jimin looked at you confused. “It must be a big diamond.”
“I can assure you it’s not a diamond. But something worth that if not more.” he grinned. 
“Well now I don’t know what to expect but it must be something grand. My hopes are up now, Jimin. Just so you know.”
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Instead of it being later that day Jimin ended up returning a week later, with you seeing him but without him returning with whatever it was he wanted to give. With a wheelbarrow in tow hauling a small tree in the soil. You stopped the rocking chair you sat in, jumping up out of it you ran over to Jimin, who had pulled the wheelbarrow into the right corner of the backyard. 
“What is that?” you asked, walking around the wheelbarrow. 
“A cherry blossom tree. I just loved them so much, I had to give you one from my shop.” he stated. 
“Jimin a cherry blossom tree can’t grow here. You have to do so much work before planting them. I thought you would’ve known that. It’s gonna die.” you said with a frown.
“It’s not. I promise it won’t. Don’t worry you’ll see.” he smiled. You glanced at Jimin feeling worried. The garden had seemed to start coming back to life with Jimin’s help but the tree? Far away from the soil of the garden had you feeling anxious. You didn’t want your aunt to see the tree failing either.
“Cherry blossoms take forever to grow.” you pouted. Jimin walked over to you wrapping himself around you from behind, rocking back and forth.
“Y/n” he said in a sing-songy voice. “I said don’t worry.” You could hear the smile in his voice, it felt contagious you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.
“What are you gonna do? Work some more of your Jimin magic?”
“Something like that.”
You sat back and watched Jimin plant the tree. Moving slowly with patience. Every so often he would hum a tune or sing a little bit as he worked until he was finished.
“So that’s it?” you asked as Jimin stepped back to look at the small two foot tree in the ground.
“That’s it!” he clapped. You looked at the tree sideways, then up at Jimin who had his arms outwards pointing at the tree, the glow that settled around him seemed a little brighter than the last time you saw him.
“I-“ you hesitated. “you’re very odd. You come around here with your crispy clean monochromatic outfits and glowing skin and gardening secrets. I don’t get you and I don’t think I will.” you sighed. Jimin looked at you searching your face for any trace of emotion. Then you broke out in a big smile that he returned.
“Actually I have a confession to make.” Jimin admitted with a drop of his shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” you perked up, sitting up straight.
“I’m gonna be going back.. into the city permanently. This might be the last time I see you. That’s why I wanted to gift you the cherry blossom tree.”
Your lips parted into a “o” shape. “You’re leaving?”
“Business is booming and Taehyung can’t handle it all alone.” Jimin spoke as if his words were rehearsed, coming off a little flat. “the tree will always give you something to remember me by.”
“Jimin” you scoffed. “if you’re just going to the city this shouldn’t be goodbye. We can visit one another and you can give me more introspective gardening tips.” Jimin shook his head.
“It’s much deeper than that. It’s far too much to explain. I’m sorry.” he said. You looked into his eyes and they seemed glassy almost as if he was gonna cry. You didn’t understand why Jimin didn’t want to visit you anymore. The city was only a 45 min drive away. It didn’t have to be permanent.
“I- Well- Maybe-“ you stammered. “I guess, Jimin. If you say so. Never say never our paths can intertwine again.” you smiled. Jimin gave you a solemn smile, before looking back to the tree.
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The next morning after Jimin’s departure you woke early that morning, like there was something tugging you out of your deep sleep. You groggily headed down to the kitchen preparing your coffee. You glanced out the window briefly, something huge and pink doing a double take you looked harder out the window squinting at the sight of the cherry blossom tree Jimin planted the evening before. It now stood tall and huge, blossoms covering every branch as if it had been there for years. You ran outside to the tree, running your hands along the bark as you walked all around it. It just didn’t make any sense. It was actually quite impossible that the tree grew that rapid overnight. You were shocked, no proper thoughts coming to mind to wrap your mind around the tree. How was you gonna explain this to your aunt? You stood back from the tree before noticing a folded sheet of paper at the base. Bending over you picked it up unfolding it.
“Hopefully destiny will cross our paths again
-Jimin”
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Tagged by @kindclaws to answer her ten questions and then write ten of my own! I adore you and I adore this concept SO much thank you for tagging me!!! 🖤🖤
1. You can capture any smell in the world into a candle. What is it?
The smell of the forest after a rainy night, where the ground is still damp but the pine seems to have been awoken and the air is fresh from isolation and lingering winter from being at such a high elevation. There’s a hint of campfire burning in the undertones.
2. You can bring something back from extinction, whether that’s a dodo or a discontinued chocolate bar from your childhood. What is it?
Part of my instinct is to say “humanity’s belief that we can work together for a better future” and the other half of me says “Taco Bell’s Quesalupa”
3. What fictional world did you always wish you could escape to?
As a kid it was Harry Potter, my best friend and I would play the video games and just self-insert ourselves and like twenty OCs and characters we loved and play “as them” instead of Harry. Which now that I think about it was absolutely what got me into fanfiction. I was just so frustrated in school all of the time I longed for the idea of Hogwarts. I also made up a lot of worlds as a kid! I actually had a mural painted on my wall for most of my childhood that was a big fantasy scene set up with a castle and a forest with fairies, unicorns, elves, etc. and I’d fall asleep pretending I lived in the mural. I’ve been yearning from day one my friends.
4. If you did, say, fall into a portal to another fantasy world with like dragons and swords, what would you consider fighting to come back for? Would you?
My boyfriend because I’m a sap! But then I’d be down for us to go back in as long as I had a camera on me because SO COOL.  
5. What would you love to study if there were no tuition costs, no exams, no pressure to be hireable - or why not?
No exams = astronomy. I love space and I’m so fascinated by it but as someone who’s really bad at anything science or math related, I just want to sit in classes and learn about it. No tuition costs = just writing extensive research papers analyzing different movies and shows. My favorite essays I wrote in college were either literature interpretations (ex: Pride and Prejudice through a feminist/marxist lens), the making of the Lord of the Rings series, and a feminist analysis of the Disney Princess film franchise using quantitive and qualitative research. I’d love to do more of that and just take classes that related to it (I would love to do one on religion/myths and the 100 for example).
6. Advertisements are now illegal. What do you fill the empty billboards with?
TAKE THE BILLBOARDS DOWN. Jk mmm. Probably like some type of activism thing either about the environment? Or something peaceful/visually interesting so that people felt inspired when they saw it! So idk maybe pictures or something historical that’s from that location specifically?  
7. Best way to eat a potato?
Beyond just saying “every way,” at the end of the day I’m a basic and a sucker for french fries. But I will go on record and say my mom makes the best mashed potatoes and if you’re doing a baked potato don’t forget to hit the ends and roll it before cutting it open #just idaho things.
8. You have an unlimited home improvement budget and full creative control. What fun and zesty nonsense do you do to your house or workplace?
Oh THIS is a thrilling question. A really elaborate bar area so we could easily make all of our own cocktails and host parties. A room for all of our Disney memorabilia that we collect so it would need room for pins, posters/artwork, figurines. Probably Haunted Mansion or Tomorrowland themed. Honestly the living room would look straight out of a 50′s/60′s retro future modernist house. This isn’t even that wild but I just need a lot of surface area so I can have the coffee-table book collection of my dreams. Also a huge makeup room and office area for me to work in.
9. I’m running out of dinner ideas. Pls link me your favourite recipe.
aksldfjs I’m trash at cooking! Big fan of the simpleness of making spaghetti and buying a big ass baguette to split over a glass of cheap wine. Here’s an untested recipe that I’m hoping to try out this weekend though – Asado Chicken and Sauteed Lemon Zucchini!
10. What have you poured your soul into?
Making every thought and creative idea I have take over myself. Never stopping thinking about how things are made, how I could make it, what feeling it gives me. Immediately understanding colors and fonts and aesthetics so that I can try and create the worlds and ideas in my head. I’m consumed by the need to be making at all times and that’s from letting my imagination run the show.
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Tagging: @the-most-beautiful-broom, @formerlyjannafaye, @annabthschase, @dylanobrienisbatman, @immortalcockroach, and @lucascsinclairs! My questions are below the cut!
1. You’re given the chance to be naturally good at something without needing to practice it ever again – what is it?
2. What’s a tradition you have with loved ones (family, friends, romantic, any!) that you really enjoy doing? Even if it’s random or not connected to a holiday!
3. Is there something out there that gives you that aching, yearning feeling in your gut that you can’t quite name?
4. Tell me something that’s made you smile recently!
5. Is there something just out of reach right now? A goal? A dream? If you take a minute or two now, are you able to think of the steps you could take to get closer to it? 
6. What do you want people to associate with you? Like if someone says, “I saw/heard/thought of [x] and I thought of you!” – what would fill you with delight because that means they really get you?
7. Think back, any weird childhood obsession or memory that is such a weirdly specific thing from back then that you haven’t thought about until I asked you this question?
8. Describe your life or yourself in fanfic terms like on AO3.
9. Quick! What’s something underrated that you love and that more people need to know about? Can be anything, doesn’t have to be fandom related.
10. It’s game night and you’re determined to be the victor. What game do you bring that you know you’re the champion of no matter how hard your friends try?  
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audreycritter · 4 years
Note
May I respectfully request some al gholsen content during this long and hard winter
You absolutely may, anon.Here is part one, with @tajmah ‘s wonderful art. Here is part two: 
A Slow and Steady Dance
chapter 2
jimmy olsen/talia al ghul
tw: blood, OC assassin deaths, violence
***
“James? You said your name was James?”
The exclamation came out with a shower of cheese puff dust.
“My name is James! I panicked, okay?” Jimmy defended helplessly. “Chew with your mouth closed.”
“Oh my god.” Jon Kent flopped back on the bean bag chair and slapped a hand over his eyes. “James.”
“Listen, pick up that controller and fight me,” Jimmy said, pointing at the abandoned console controller by Jon’s feet. The brawling game was paused.
“Uncle Jimmy,” Jon said, laughing and coughing. Jimmy nudged the tub of cheese puffs away from Jon’s reach. “I think I know why you’re single.”
“Hey!” Jimmy said, kicking at Jon’s socked feet that were floating in the air. “Listen, you twerp, when did you get so mean? Where’s the sweet Jonno who thought I could do no wrong?”
“Middle school,” Jon’s giggle turned into a grumble and an exaggerated sigh. “It makes ya grow up too fast.”
“Cheers to that,” Jimmy said, raising his can of Zesti. He took a long swig and muttered, “I have to get better drinking buddies than ten year old.”
“I’m eleven!” Jon crowed. His feet settled on the carpet again and he licked his fingers off and dried them on his jeans before picking up the controller. “So. Are you gonna go?”
“Go where?” Jimmy asked, mashing a series of buttons.
“Uncle Jimmy,” Jon said flatly. “I saw the paper in your bag when you told me to get the pop and candy.”
“You’re a little spy,” Jimmy said. He paused the game to tap the back of Jon’s head with his elbow. “You’re as bad as your mom and dad.”
Jon ducked from the teasing blow, laughing.
Jimmy sighed. “It depends on a couple things, like if your mom gets back in time. And even if she does I’m not sure, because you’re practically still in diapers and don’t need to know.”
“So yes, but I gotta pretend I’m dumb if anyone asks,” Jon said. He unpaused the game. His onscreen character flipped Jimmy’s off a floating platform in a blur of blue and orange.
“No,” Jimmy said, with a chuckle. “It means you don’t know. Remember when I used to win sometimes?”
“You mean when I used to take it easy on you?” Jon looked sideways with a sharkish grin.
They played a few more rounds that Jimmy soundly lost, even if he would have argued it was because his head was someplace else. They were in the middle of a match Jimmy was winning because Jon’s fingers kept slipping on the controller when the sound of a key in the lock jerked both their spines upright.
“Your mom,” Jimmy hissed. “Bed like you’ve been there for an hour, go, go, go.”
A whoosh of air sent the cheese puff tub wildly spinning and Jimmy slapped a hand on it to get it to stop just as Lois tossed her stuff on the entry table and rounded the corner. Jon was nowhere in sight.
“It’s a school night, Jimmy.” Lois sounded unamused.
“He’s in bed,” Jimmy said, keeping his attention pointedly on the screen while he jumped around. The other character, unmanned, merely bounced in place under a flurry of kicks.
“Mhmm,” Lois said. “You’re just playing two player all alone.”
Jimmy paused and rapidly quit the game, rising to his feet. “No, it’s a CPU, I think the system’s just buggy? It’s been acting weird all night.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate you watching him last minute,” Lois said. She ran a hand through her hair and kicked her shoes off at the edge of the room. “I do. Appreciate it, I mean. You’re a lifesaver. Clark’s got some thing in…”
“Yeah,” Jimmy said quickly. “No problemo. See you at work tomorrow?”
“What’s up with you?” Lois leaned her head back out of the kitchen to fix him with a piercing gaze. “You usually try to stay and talk my ear off for an hour.”
“Nothing!” Jimmy said, grabbing his messenger bag. “I just, I’ve got plans, maybe. Maybe a date.”
“Jimmy. It’s midnight,” Lois said, an eyebrow raised. She disappeared fully into the kitchen, her voice disembodied as she called across the space. “I didn’t make you late, did I?”
“Nah, I’m not late yet,” Jimmy said. He tipped the Zesti Cola back to finish it off and somehow managed to miss his mouth— half of it sloshed onto his button up shirt. He stared glumly at it. “Aw, cheese and crackers.”
“There’s a stain stick in the laundry room,” Lois said.
“How did you…”Jimmy tipped his head back and sighed at the ceiling. “You can’t even see me. Are you sure Clark isn’t rubbing off on you?”
Whatever Lois mumbled under her breath from the kitchen was something he thought he probably didn’t want to hear, especially since it was followed by a snort of laughter.
“It’s fine,” Jimmy said.
“Sorry. I’ve been up too long,” Lois said, the back of her hand pressed against her mouth as she came around the corner. She raised a wine glass to him. “Have fun. Be safe.”
“Thanks,” Jimmy said. The shirt he could work around. He had time. He smiled. “Tell Clark I said hi.”
“Mhmm,” Lois said. “Thanks, again.”
“Anytime,” Jimmy assured her. “He’s a great kid.”
“Jimmy,” Lois said. “Take the stain stick.”
***
Fifty-seven minutes later, Jimmy Olsen knocked on the door to Room 638 on the sixth floor of the Metropolis 3rd Street Hilton. The door was propped open by the flipped security latch. He pushed it, tentatively. It opened on an empty standard double room.
“Hiya?” he called, stepping in.
His sense of danger had perhaps been dulled by years of working with Superman a yell away, because he felt no alarm stepping into the room that very well could have been a trap.
The room was definitely empty. He knocked on the bathroom door, and then pushed it open to a dark interior. Also empty.
Jimmy stood in the middle of the room, rubbed the back of his neck, and let the bottle of wine he’d brought dangle in his grip. He sighed.
“Aw, beans,” he mumbled, feeling stupid.
It had been a joke, certainly. Getting someone to prop open the door was the easy work of twenty bucks or so. He sat on the edge of the bed and tugged at his bowtie and crisp collar of the clean shirt he’d put on, then fell back onto the smooth duvet.
“You, Jimmy Olsen,” he said to the ceiling, “are a chump.”
The bedside phone rang. It rang again, and again.
Jimmy propped himself on one elbow and stared at it. It rang a fourth time and he snatched it off the receiver and held it to his ear, the coiled cord that still survived in hotel rooms stretching out across the floor.
“Hilton, room 638,” he said.
“Mr. Olsen,” the accented voice said calmly over the line. “You came.”
Jimmy sat straight up, his back rigid. He swallowed, hard, with a cough of nervous laughter. “Yep. On time, even. Are you, um, running late?”
If the wall had been close enough to bang his head against, he might have considered doing just that. He wished he could sound smart for a whole two minutes while talking to a gorgeous woman.
“No,” she said, unruffled. “Come upstairs. Room 4201.”
The line went dead. Jimmy held the phone until the disconnected tone jarred him into motion– he set it down with a plastic click, and stood, feeling dazed.
The ride up on the elevator was a long, silent minute where he smiled at the other occupants, a man in a tuxedo and a woman in a red gown with a fur shawl. The man glared at him in return, but the woman looked disinterested and avoided eye contact. They stepped off a floor before his.
“Have a good night!” he called after them. They ignored him and he shrugged, jamming the button for the 42nd floor again for good measure.
The elevator doors opened on a hallway with geometric-patterned carpet in stark black and white. The doors were further from each other than on the lower floors, but he didn’t have to walk far to the left to find 4201.
He took a deep breath, raised a hand to knock, and froze.
There was a crash from within the room, the crack of breaking furniture, and shattering glass, a scream. His worry about a date fled, and he pounded his fist on the door.
“Hello? Are you okay? Talia?”
There was a muffled snap and then the knob turned. Jimmy stepped back, unsure of who or what was opening the door. The gap that appeared was only a few inches, and Talia’s face was visible, but her head was ducked down.
“Mr. Olsen,” she said, still calm as a lake in fair weather. “It’s a bad time, after all. Perhaps another evening?”
“What?” Jimmy exclaimed, bracing a hand on the door before she could shut it. “Who was screaming? Are you alright?”
“I’m–” Talia began, her head still bent.
“You’re bleeding,” Jimmy said, staring at the dark bead of blood on her cheek. “Who hurt you? I have a friend who can help, just tell me who did this. Is he still in there?”
“I am quite capable of taking care of myself, Mr. Olsen,” Talia said. Rather than icy, she sounded amused. “I doubt there is anything you could do that I haven’t already taken care of alone.”
There was an unspoken implication there, about Jimmy’s ability to hold his own in a fight. He heard it and ignored it– it was a familiar dismissal, one he’d lived with most of his life.
“At least let me make sure you’re okay,” Jimmy said.
“You’re worried. You needn’t be. The threat has been dealt with.”
“Okay,” Jimmy said, fingers tightening on the neck of the wine bottle anyway. “You’re still bleeding. I can get some ice, find a first aid kit.”
“You are persistent,” Talia observed. The door had never opened more than those few inches, but she raised her chin and studied him. There was a cut by her eye, already swelling.
“Tell me to buzz off, and I’ll get lost,” Jimmy said, hoping she wouldn’t. Whoever had been in the room had done a number on her, and he didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone. “But I’d feel like a heel not staying to help, if you need anything. Gee, that looks bad. Gimme your ice bucket. I’ll run to the machine and bring it back. I don’t even have to come in. Want me to call the police?”
“No,” Talia said. “Wait.”
The door closed, and Jimmy waited, frowning at the glossy silver numbers on the polished wood. There was the clink of a sliding chain and then the door swung all the way open.
“There’s ice in the fridge,” she said, with a dip of her head in that direction. She was walking ahead of him, her back to him, and still in the green dress from earlier. “I’m going to change.”
The hotel suite was large. Plush carpet ran the full length of a long living room, lined with floor to ceiling windows on one side. The view overlooked the glittering, neon city– the Daily Planet with its spinning globe lit by bright white, the glowing blue strips up the corners of the LexCorp building, the dark reflective glass of the First Federal Bank tower lit up like a laser show.
Jimmy stood staring at Metropolis, taking it in, before starting and turning to find the kitchenette. Some of the sleek living room furniture was tipped over, a coffee table broken into a thousand shards in the carpet. A couch was slashed, cotton batting sticking through.
“Holy moly,” he breathed, picking his way around the mess.
The kitchen wasn’t a kitchenette– it was a full kitchen, with a stove and oven and refrigerator. There was a marble-top island, a few drawers pulled out and one broken off it’s tracks.
One of the open drawers held a little box of plastic baggies. He set the wine on the counter and plucked a baggie out from the roll, and went around the island to open the fridge.
There was a body on the floor, a knife sticking out from its throat. A mask obscured the face, and any horrified or pained expression he might have been making.
“Talia?” Jimmy called, feeling sick.
“Yes, Mr. Olsen?”
“It’s Jimmy, actually, you should just call me…Jimmy,” Jimmy said, swallowing hard. He couldn’t take his eyes off the knife, the pooling blood, the stained handle. “There’s a body in here.”
“Yes,” she called back. “It’s nothing to worry about. They’re dead.”
“I…okay. Dead. Dead isn’t the worst.” Jimmy tore his gaze away and pressed the bag against the ice dispenser in the fridge. He sealed it, mechanically, and stepped over the body, trying very hard not to think.
He wandered toward the door Talia had disappeared behind. It wasn’t closed, but he rapped gently with his knuckles anyway.
“Ice delivery,” he said, the words sounding hollow to his own ears.
There was a sniff and he leaned forward, quickly, just to see Talia wipe the corner of her eyes with the back of her hand, the first joint of her first finger. She took in a sharp breath and turned fully to face him, with a placid expression. Her makeup was a little smudged.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the ice.
“Are you…are you okay?” Jimmy stammered. “It’s just, there’s a body in the kitchen, and uh…did he attack you?”
“Just the one?” Talia asked, raising an eyebrow. She paused by him, and put a hand on his cheek. “You’re upset. You aren’t used to blood?”
“Uh, no,” Jimmy said, shaking his head. “I’ve, well, I’ve been Lois Lane’s photographer for a while. It’s not the blood so much as what comes with the blood.”
“What is that?” Talia asked, brow creasing.
“Suffering,” Jimmy said bluntly. If she hadn’t touched him, maybe he wouldn’t have dared, but he raised his hand and rubbed his thumb along the skin near the cut on her face. “Blood usually means suffering.”
Talia smiled, thin and uncertain, and raised the ice pack to the swelling cut. She slipped past him into the messy living room. Jimmy turned, to watch her, and didn’t notice the feet twitching behind the second low couch until she stopped behind it, standing over someone.
She hissed something low, crouched down out of sight. A rough voice, thick and gurgling, murmured something in return and then there was a wet snick. Talia rose, with blood splatter on her face.
“We have to go,” she said.
Jimmy turned and threw up in a decorative vase.
When he righted, she was looking at him.
“You should go,” she amended.
“No, I’m okay,” Jimmy said. “Just needed a second, is all. Gee whiz, did you just kill that guy?”
“He knew the price for failure,” Talia said evenly. “It was a death with honor.”
“Failure to do what?” Jimmy gaped at her. He stumbled a step sideways, tracking her movement across the room, and reached for a camera that wasn’t there. He just wanted to hold the familiar straps in his hands.
“To kill me,” Talia said, as if this were perfectly reasonable.
“Who’s trying time kill you?” Jimmy demanded. “Why?”
“It was a test. I thought my father trusted me enough that we were beyond such tests, but that was foolish on my part. The lesson has been learned.”
“Your father,” Jimmy exhaled, sitting down on the torn couch. “Your father sent…assassins…to kill you…”
“Yes,” Talia said. “And now I must leave. If you would like to avoid trouble, I advise you do the same.”
“Won’t the police…aren’t there prints? Everywhere?” Jimmy asked, looking around. Talia was standing in front of a mirror in the living room, wiping blood off her face.
“No,” Talia said. “My father’s people will be watching the ones he sent. They will come to clean everything, and if we’re still here, one might try again in hopes of securing his favor.”
“I don’t know what kind of father you’ve got,” Jimmy said. “Mine didn’t like me that much, but he didn’t want me dead.”
“Mr. Olsen,” Talia said, with a pitying smirk. “It isn’t because he wants me dead. It’s because he wants me to be the best. I am, or I’m not. It’s that simple. If I can’t handle a few assassins, then I don’t honor him by being alive. These men would not have thanked me for sparing them– Reznyek pled for an honorable death, and nothing more.”
Jimmy thought she sounded like she fully believed this, but it also sounded recited, like some sort of long-rehearsed creed. He decided not to bring it up in conversation at the moment.
“Did you give him one?” Jimmy asked, his stomach rolling again, hearing the snick once more in memory. He convinced it to calm down.
“Yes,” she said softly, not looking at him. “He failed, and he didn’t deserve it. But I gave it to him anyway.”
“Why?” Jimmy asked. He didn’t know why he was asking, anymore than he knew why picking up a camera filled him with joy, or why following Lois around while she dug answers out of stories was one of the most satisfying things in his life.
“My father may not be right about all things,” Talia said. She flicked the cloth she’d been using onto the remains of the coffee table.
Jimmy got to his feet, and squared his shoulders.
“Well. Have you eaten since the gala? Can I buy you dinner?”
“You want to buy me dinner,” Talia said, raising an eyebrow. Jimmy got the impression she was looking at him with real interest for the first time. “I will not be having sex with you, Mr. Olsen.”
“It’s Jimmy,” Jimmy said, blushing. “And I’m not asking for…that. Just some burgers, or whatever you want. You’ve had a rough night.”
“You don’t want to run screaming?” she asked, with a teasing glint. He trailed her into the kitchen, where she found a first aid kit. She rummaged through it while he spoke.
“My life is pretty weird,” Jimmy said. “I’ll give it a few more hours.”
“I will accept dinner, on one condition,” Talia said, spreading cream on the cut near her eye.
“Sure, name it,” Jimmy said quickly, taking a bandaid and ripping it open. He handed it to her.
Talia pressed it into place and then looked him full in the face. “When you regret this in the morning, you tell no one.”
“Easy,” Jimmy said, while he was screaming inside and as certain as the sky was blue. “I won’t regret it.”
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talesofsymphoniac · 7 years
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NOW YOU HAVE TO ANSWER ALL THE ODD ONES. TAKE THAT
JUST YOU FRICKIN’ WATCH ME
1. What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?
I think my first fics were Tales of Symphonia ones when I was 12 that I actually handwrote and still have because I collect all my notebooks like a packrat. I like rereading them from time to time– some parts are cringey, of course, but there are other ones that I just LOVE.There was also a Dawn of the New World sequel with, like, my own OCs and everything that I spent a whole summer on. That one I DID throw away because I expected it to end up cringey. And yeah, from what I remember it was (fight scenes are HARD, okay?) but also I really wish I could reread it. Now all I have are my memories…
5. Is there any fic that makes you super happy to reread and remember you wrote that?
Click Away is my baby and I’ll never stop being proud of it, sorry :P Any of my longfics, really.
7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?
Hm, well I just finished my latest WIP, so I have nothing actively in progress right now… I have a few sequel ideas for Click Away still kicking around that I’d like to get to eventually, though!
11. Have you ever written a fic for a concept you know someone else has done before? How did it impact your writing process or feelings after posting?
One of the advantages of writing in small fandoms is there’s a good chance that your idea hasn’t been done before, I’ve found. I mean, Tales of Zestiria has a few hundred works, but in general when I’ve been excited to write fics it’s usually because it’s a concept I haven’t seen explored as much. I mean, I guess modern AUs had been done before with Click Away, but I’d never seen an Online AU, for instance. Usually there’s some sort of twist or key point in my fics hat makes it so I don’t compare my writing to others, at least not much.
Then there’s the Death Gate fandom, which I do tend to be harsh on myself with just because there’s really one main author there who is really good and I always worry about how my stuff will “measure up” next to that, or knowing the exact individuals who will be reading, but that’s less about a specific concept and more about writing for that fandom in general, haha.
13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?
I haven’t been writing stuff with the intent to post it for very long, sooooo. I am more likely to try to write AUs now, as opposed to canon stuff (I still very much prefer writing canon-based stuff, though :P)
15. Have you ever purposefully written one fandom/fic idea over another because you knew it’d be more popular?
Nope, haha. My motivation is already so spotty that if something excites me enough to write it, I just go for it. And that almost never happens with two different ideas at the same time.
17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?
Treading Water, my Sormik lifeguard AU. It has my third-highest kudos on AO3 and while I like it well enough, it’s never been one of my favorites, personally!
19. If you had to pick one fic/scene/chapter of your work to describe your entire portfolio to a stranger, which would you pick?
That’s really hard??? I guess something introspective, probably, with strong relationships and themes? Possibly Polarity from To draw on all its omnipotence, though it’s a little bit too angsty to really describe my “portfolio.” It would need to be way more fluffy. Maybe something more like Fate Slides Into Freedom from the same. Or maybe The Truth Comes Out from A Click Away? Or Light from The Unspoken Bond? Idk, man.
21. If someone starts kudosing and commenting your fics in a spree and has a few works of their own, would you go look through theirs?
a;sldkfjaf I’m a really bad person and I almost never check that kind of thing, I’m so sorry
25. What constructive criticism, however well-meaning, always makes you feel bad when you see it in a review?
I don’t really get much in the way of constructive criticism (and that says nothing about me as an author, but more how fandom in general is trained not to critique fanworks unless the author asks for it). I did get a critical review in my first try writing Unspoken Bond which echoed stuff I’d already been thinking (basically that I could afford to bounce around the timeline a lot more in that fic, since it covered a lot of canon elements) and inspired me to give it another go in a different way, which I’ll always be grateful for even though I’ll also always wish it hadn’t taken someone else pointing it out anonymously for me to change things around, you know?
29. Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?
I read (or read, past tense) a lot of Yuri on Ice fic, but somehow I never wanted to write for it very much. I did a few script things, but for the most part the anime gave me a lot of what I wanted to see, so there was less of a desire on my part to fill the gaps. But I love reading other people’s interpretations!
That’s a pretty significant exception, though. In general, writing and reading usually matches up pretty well!
31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?
I always feel weird trying to write Dezel and Zaveid. It’s why they always have such small parts if they’re even in my fics. I have to say, though, I actually did enjoy Dezel more than I thought I would in Click Away (he still had a really small role, though)
33. Is there any particular character whose scenes always wind up being longer/more frequent than you expected? Does the quality hold up?
MARIT. Granted, this was only for To draw on all its omnipotence, since that’s the only one that’s really let me delve into her brain so far, but I didn’t expect her to have as much to say as she did. The thing about Marit is she only becomes a main character in the last two books out of seven in Death Gate, so there’s a lot of room to talk about her that just didn’t happen in those two books. I expected her to be hard to write for that reason, but instead it was really fun to get to flesh her out a bit more! And I really think the whole fic was better for it!
35. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?
There was a little more Zaveid/Lailah flirting in Treading Water than I intended, but I lowkey ship that, so it wasn’t like I minded, haha. Other than that… I don’t think so?
37. Have you ever purposefully bashed a character/ship in a fic?
*cough* Salt and Sugar *cough* Statement released by Mikleo, 200 years after Sorey’s sleep began *cough cough*
39. Do you consider yourself to have a readership?
Maybe a little one in the Zesti/Sormik crowd!
41. If you cross-post your fics on multiple sites, do you have a favorite? Are there certain fics you would only post on certain site?
I don’t cross-post fics, except sometimes to Tumblr. AO3 is vastly preferred. (I used to read from ff.net when that was more popular but never wanted to post anything there)
43. How many views has your least popular fic gotten?
Going by kudos: What is Love? and What are Friends For? both have 5 kudos and 40 and 77 hits, respectively. Going by hits, A Soft Epilogue has 38 views (but 8 kudos).
45. If you had to call yourself an author of a single genre (besides fanfic) what label would you give yourself?
Well, I use the tag “Fluff” a lot, so there’s that. Fluff, family, friendships, relationships, that sort of thing.
47. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?
Hmmm, it would definitely depend on the person, but if I trusted them enough to show them something I might have them read Wedding Bells, actually. Just because it’s pretty innocent, gets into some pretty interesting points about the Purple Prose AU, and doesn’t require a ton of context.
49. Has anyone in your life ever read your fanfic just because you wrote it?
@neodiji was really unbelievably sweet the other day and left a comment on To draw on all its omnipotence, so that counts!
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