#okay so i had this as wip since last year and i know i probably wont finish it soo i will just post it because i actually love this one lol

[oflights]

wip snip 5.1

i've been tagged a bunch of times over the past few weeks to post wip snips and only had the last few chapters of star splitter to post, so i bailed. i finally have something new to preview!! have a bit of the gilmore girls fic, still in progress. 🥰

Just about 8 years ago, the bell over the doorframe jingled violently as Draco Malfoy threw the door open and swept in, already talking. “Bloody hell, that snow is abominable,” he was saying. He hefted a bundled, starfish-shaped form that would turn out to be a toddler by his hip, a pram scooting behind them and leaving a wet trail on Harry’s floor. With a flick of his wrist, the pram had folded up and nestled in the corner of the dining area, dripping there ignored, as Draco descended upon the counter much the same as he did almost every day.

“You, there—please tell me this place has something warm to—” And then Draco froze, because back then he had not done this every day; this was the first time, and more specifically the first time he had seen Harry Potter in the flesh since their eighth year of Hogwarts.

“Malfoy,” Harry had said, eyeing the puffy bundle warily. He didn’t know it was a toddler then; every bit of Scorpius was covered up and radiating Warming Charms. In hindsight, he was probably sweating, but Harry was to later learn that Scorpius had been a quite agreeable child until he learned to read—an apparent mistake that Draco despairs of having made a few times a week—and he made no complaints even dropped onto a stool as he was, propped up against his father.

“What are you doing here?” Draco, then Malfoy, had demanded. He looked utterly thrown and somehow offended, as if Harry’s existence in his own place of business was a grave insult to him.

“This is my place,” Harry said, and then as an instinctive response to Draco’s disbelieving scoff, he added, “I own it.” He’d hoped Draco would pick up on the implied threat—don’t be an arse or I’ll kick you out.

...

“This place is called Al’s,” Draco said accusingly. “You’re not Al.”

“Nope, I’m not. I’m Harry.” When Draco stared at him, Harry clarified, “Harry Potter.”

“I know you’re—who is Al, then?” Draco went pale beneath his winter flush. “Wait. Did you name this place after—Dumbledore?” He whispered the name as if ashamed, and Harry supposed that was about right, though it garnered him little sympathy.

Harry let that dread sit on Draco’s face for a few moments before he said, “No, it was already called Al’s when I bought it. Didn’t feel like changing the name.” He had changed everything else about it, though, spending one exhausting summer converting it from a pub no one really liked to go to anymore to a greasy spoon that people liked much more.

...

Harry had not opened this place and kept it open so he could be insulted and bullied; he was long past the time in his life when he would accept that, especially from the likes of Draco Malfoy. And so he opened his mouth once again to tell Draco to get out—ignoring all the questions he had for him, like what he was doing in this town, out in the snowstorm, carrying some sort of doll, maybe?

Before he could say so, and even before Draco could interrupt, the doll made a noise that made Harry startle and drop the rag he’d been wiping down the counter with. The doll made another noise, reached out, and grabbed the rag.

“Mine!” the doll said, lifting its head until a nose poked out of its bundling. That was when Harry realized that what Draco had set down on the stool was a toddler.

“Not yours,” Draco said as Harry tried to process this. “Let it go, Scorpius, it’s disgusting!”

“Oh,” said Scorpius, in a very wobbly sort of voice. His head tipped up so much that Harry could now see wide eyes, which were a complex hazel shade that made him really start to wonder what Draco was doing with a toddler. Said eyes were glistening slightly, and to accompany the look, Scorpius said, “Okay,” in the saddest little voice Harry had ever heard. He dropped the rag back on the counter; he could barely move his arm in his heavy, puffy coat.

“He can have it,” Harry said quickly; he grabbed up the rag and tried to hand it back, unable to deal with that stricken face.

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry wip #wip snip #oflights #gilmore girls au #tbh it's not a proper AU it's just borrowing the gilmore girls setup #each chapter (there are four) will cover a season in a year + flashbacks to past seasons and i am done with winter 🎉

[sylveon-official]

Huskerdust mpreg wip 3

Part 2 here!

Lucifer chews on the finger of his glove as he mumbles, looking back and forth between Angel perched on the bed and the ultrasound pictures in his hand. Charlie sits beside him in an unwavering show of support, but the nervous shake of her hand clasped in his isn’t really helping.

“Ohhh. Mmm, okay, I see. Oh boy… again?” 

“Again?” Angel and Charlie cry out, shooting worried looks at one another.

“What the fuck do you mean again? This happen often? Isn’t not being able to get knocked up supposed to be, like, divine punishment around here?!”

Of course, Angel had always considered that logic a bit backwards, especially with his profession. He had no idea how demon biology really worked, but he’d seen enough visibly pregnant Hellborns of myriad genders in his time in Hell to be secretly grateful he’d never had to worry about it. Well, until now.

“Well, yes…” Lucifer scratches the side of his cheek, gaze nervously flitting from side to side. “But, you see, from time to time we have experienced… let’s call them… little miracles, here in the Pride Circle!”

Angel scoffs, about to reply with scathing comment about the contradiction when Charlie places a steady hand on his shoulder and gently cuts in, “When is the last time this happened, Dad?”

Lucifer blows out a breath, and tuts his tongue as he counts on his fingers. “Oh, maybe 1000 years ago? Give or take. Doesn’t happen so often, could probably count the amount of times it has on two hands, but —?”

Angel groans. Lucifer or not, this guy has a way of beating around the bush that Angel sure doesn’t appreciate. 

“Come on, cut to the chase shortstack - Why?” Angel asks, exasperated. 

Charlie reprimands him lightly with a gasp of his name while Lucifer zeroes in on him with a narrow glare.

“I’m going to chalk that one up to hormones, and let that one slide.” 

When Angel simply shoots him a dull look, Lucifer quickly gathers up his broken ego and carries on, this time in a more serious tone, “Listen, I wish I had an answer for you kid, but… I’ve never really been able to figure it out myself.”

Angel quickly deflates, sudden heat building up behind his eyes again. Great. Not only is he the first pregnant Sinner Demon in a Millenia, but he doesn’t even get an explanation?

Apparently sensing his downturn in mood, Charlie squeezes Angel’s hand and pries further, “Dad, if this has happened more than once, there has to be something you know. Even a just a theory?”

Lucifer hesitates, fiddling with his cane. “Well… there is one I’ve considered, but… don’t put too much stock into it,” he explains defensively, and Angel looks back up at him, tentatively intrigued.

“So, you know how conception happens… up there, right?” Lucifer cups his hand around his mouth and whispers conspiratorially.

Angel furrows his brows. “No, how the fuck should I-”

“Oh, um!” Charlie cuts in, her own brow furrowed in thought. “Something about ‘built-in’ birth control, right? You and your partner will only conceive if it’s something you both long for. So romantic!” She swoons, pressing her cheek against Angel’s shoulder. She quickly rights herself to add to her father’s assessment, “So if that’s how it works with Redeemed Souls, then maybe… maybe it doesn’t matter whether you’re in Heaven or Hell, since now we know that’s a total crapshoot… maybe it has to do with the goodness inside of the soul itself!”

Angel’s eyes narrow as he parses the words in his head, refusing to acknowledge the latter half of Charlie’s rambling. 

“So lemme get this straight… you’re tellin’ me, this is literally some ‘when two people love each other very much’ kinda bull shit?! Who the fuck would I—” 

Angel’s voice gets stuck in his throat as a very clear image of of the potential culprit poofs into his mind's eye. 

Luckily, Lucifer and Charlie take his short-circuiting as general shock. Charlie coos and pulls him close while Lucifer backtracks, “Like I said, it’s just a theory - I’ve got no proof to back it up. For all I know, this is the Big Whatever Upstairs’ way of fuckin’ with us—”

Angel stands up, ignoring the way Lucifer flinches as he towers over him and Charlie face-plants onto the bed without his support.

“I gotta go,” Angel says, balling his hands up into fists, nails digging into his palms uncomfortably. 

He swipes the photos from off of his desk, throws open the door and briskly walks down the hallway, Charlie’s worried shouts falling on deaf ears.

He takes the stairs to the lobby two by two, picking up his pace so he doesn’t lose his nerve by the time he reaches his destination. 

When he stalks up to the bar, heart pounding and out of breath, Husk simply glances up from the glass he’s polishing and plasters on a teasing, lopsided grin, just like he's done every time Angel has stormed up to his bar at any and all hours of the day and night. 

Husk cocks his head and lifts a brow, the deep timbre vibrating across the walls, “Wanna talk about it, Legs?”

Angel’s heart thumps and his cheeks flood with heat.

“Fuck.”

#lmao using worldbuilding as an excuse to explain the mechanics of mpreg #sh #i already kNOW #huskerdust #husk x angel dust #angel dust x husk #husk hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel dust #mpreg #writing

[indestructibleheart]

Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.

I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!

(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)

---

You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING

"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick." 

It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).

They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes.  Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.

Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or  the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor. 

Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.

Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.

"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."

Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth. 

"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"

Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically. 

Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.

This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.

He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"

June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.

"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."

June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."

At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"

"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"

Alex throws a home fry at her face. 

It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table. 

A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.

"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."

June balks. "Me?"

"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."

"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."

(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)

To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.

"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."

He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.

Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

#wip:snippet #m:wip #fic: breaking character

[janicho88]

I Got You - Chapter 4

Pairing- Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female!Reader

Word count- 2,225

Warnings- Language, mentions of domestic violence, injuries, and abuse, abusive boyfriend, hurt reader, protective Jake. If I missed something, please let me know.

A/N- Before we get any further into this, there will be a few differences from the movie. Ice was sick, but beat it, the aviators are there for a six-week training, not three. I'm sure there are going to be Naval inaccuracies. This one has been sitting in my WIP since last fall. First Jake story, I hope I can do him justice. The first few chapters will be a little heavy, but we will move past that. Thank you to @slightly-psycho-multifan for beta'ing!

Summary- When you have finally reached a breaking point, you call the one person you trust for help. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, but he is the person you know you’re safest with.  It’s been months since he has had so much as a text from you, but Jake Seresin would do anything for the Navy princess he met years ago.  The pilot knows she means more to him than he ever will to her, but he will do anything for her.

Series Masterlist

Unsurprisingly, it’s the quickest you have fallen asleep in a long time.  Sometime during the short night, you moved over closer to Jake.  It’s the weight across his chest that stirs him from the little sleep he has gotten.  It takes a minute for everything to register back with him, and what he felt was your casted arm moving across his chest as you curled into his side.  Taking a glance at his phone on the table to check how much time he has before his alarm goes off the exhausted aviator sees 6:40 glares back at him.

He yawns as he closes his eyes once more. 6:40, okay I just have to be in the briefing room at 7, I’ve still got twenty minutes, he thinks to himself.

“Shit,” he hollers while quickly sitting up.  His alarm should have gone off at 6, he must have forgotten to set it with everything else going on last night.  At Least he remembered to plug in his phone. 

His shout has you jerking awake and cowering away from the noise.  Jake immediately feels guilty when he sees the worry in your eyes. Then he notices you holding your wrist.  That was the arm you had draped over him, and he must have aggravated it when he shot up so fast.

“I’m sorry darling, I shouldn’t have done that.  I forgot to set my alarm, I have to get going before I’m late.”

While he rushes into the bathroom, you sit in bed trying to calm your racing heart. He comes back out in his boxers and a black sleeveless shirt.  Grabbing a green flight suit off his dresser, he starts talking to you as he stumbles into it. 

“I’ve got to get to base. I’m sorry, but I don't think there’s much here for food other than what we picked up yesterday. We should get some kind of a break for lunch, I’ll grab something and bring it back for you.  I’ll drop your prescriptions off then.  I shut your phone off last night, just in case there was any tracking app on there.  I will check it over later before you turn it back on.  I’ll go grab the motrin, you might want to take one to help calm the wrist back down.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt it.”

Your brain is too foggy to quickly grasp everything he is throwing out at you. When it all catches up, you just nod.

“It’s still early, after you take some medicine, why don’t you try and get a little more sleep.”

You try to respond, but your throat is pretty sore, so you just nod.

He disappears out the door, and is back a few minutes later with pills, a bottle of water and the crackers from last night.

“You shouldn’t take these on an empty stomach.  Help yourself to anything in the house.  Keep the door locked, and I will be back as soon as I can alright, darlin?”

“Alright.  Thanks Jake,” you whisper out.  The water helps coat your throat, but time will probably be the best remedy.

There are two stop lights between Jake’s house and base, and he manages to hit them both red.  Pulling in the first empty park he finds, he grabs his bag and is racing inside.  There is no running inside the buildings, so he is speed walking to the locker room to throw the bag on top of the lockers.  No time to mess with getting the locker open right now.  Then down the hall to the briefing room.       

Jake pauses before he opens the door taking a deep breath, he slips into Hangman.  A mask of arrogance he has perfected over the years.  Very few truly see the real Jake. Standing tall he opens the door and heads inside.

“Hangman.” Maverick calls out from the front of the room. “So good of you to join us this morning.”

Jake takes a quick inventory of available seats, and finds the only empty row is his usual spot up front. He doesn’t say anything as he walks up the aisle.

“Can you tell me the time Lieutenant?” Maverick questions. 

Stopping at his seat Jake glances down at his watch.  “7:05 sir.”

“Your watch works, so what is your excuse for arriving late?”

“I don’t have one sir.”

He can hear the snickers of his fellow aviators.  A few of them are thrilled to see him in trouble. 

“You don’t have one?”

“No sir.”

“Tardiness is not rewarded, or tolerated,” a voice from behind Jake says, “you’ll sit out the morning hop, Lieutenant.”

Hangman turns around to face his superior.  “Yes sir Admiral.”  Of course Cyclone had to be in here already.   

Maverick picks apart their dog fights from yesterday, before telling them he expects better today.  The pilots are dismissed to change into their flight gear.  Jake doesn’t bother putting his on since he won’t be flying yet, then they move to the ready room.  The first group is in the air when Coyote comes over.  

“Man, what happened this morning.”

“I didn’t set my alarm.  Won’t happen again.”

“How could you forget that?”

“Had a long night.”

“Did you even get her name this time?”

Hangman rolls his eyes at his friend, “wasn’t that kinda night.”

“Well then…”

Jake notices Rooster and Phoenix listening in, so he quickly cuts Coyote off.  “Javy, could we please just let it go right now?”

“Fine.”  His friend gets up and moves back over to listen to the radio.

Rooster smirks just before he opens his mouth, but Hangman is ready for him too.  “Bradshaw, don’t even think about opening your mouth.”

Of course the other pilot ignores him.  “The too good to be true Hangman, finally starting to fall apart?”

“I swear Chicken, if you keep talking I will…”

“You will what Hangman?” Cyclone questions walking in.

Jake closes his eyes, quickly running his hand over his face, “Nothing sir.”

“Next two should be getting ready.  Hangman come with me.”

Jake follows the Admiral to his office, and stands at attention in front of Cyclone’s desk while the senior officer tears into him.

He leans forward in his chair to emphasize the end of his rant.  “This mission isn’t a joke Lieutenant.  If that’s the way you are going to be approaching it I should just send you back to Lemoore right now. One more toe out of line and you’re gone, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Back to the ready room, you're grounded for the day.”

“Yes, sir.”

When he returns, the second group is already in the air. He walks in taking a seat in the corner, doing his best to ignore everyone around him right now.  He wouldn’t be in this mess if he just remembered to set his damn alarm.  

When the last group finally lands, Maverick dismisses them for their break.

“You all have 45 minutes to grab lunch and report back to the briefing room.”

While the last group of aviators heads to the locker room to get out of their gear, Jake runs in for his phone and keys.  Heading out to his truck, he is stopped by Maverick.

“Where do you think you’re going, Hangman?”

 “I have to take care of something, I’ll be back before the briefing.”

“You’ve already demonstrated this morning you can’t be trusted to be on time, I don't think you should be leaving base right now.”

Hangman clenches his teeth in frustration, “is that an order sir?”

Maverick thinks it over for a minute.  “Yes, it is.  Get back to the mess hall.”

“Yes, sir.” 

He turns around and heads back toward the building, but stops shy of going inside.  So now he can’t pick you up anything, or take your prescriptions in.  Worse, he doesn’t have a way to get a hold of you to tell you what’s going on. 

Pacing around outside, he finally thinks of who he could ask.  He’s going to owe her big for this.  Picking up his phone, he hopes she answers.

“The Hard Deck.”

“Penny?”

“Yes, can I help you?”

“It’s Jake  Seresin.”

“You disappeared very quickly last night. I’d ask if it was the blonde, but she was still pouting in the corner when I checked.”

“Yeah, something came up.  Penny, I need a huge favor.”

“You know I’m not open yet Jake, and I can’t bring you alcohol on base.  No matter how crazy Mave drives you.”

“It’s not that exactly.  I was planning on running home during our lunch break, but now I’m stuck on base.  There’s…a…um…I…um…have…a…friend at my place.  She can’t leave right now.  Is there any way you could run her over something for lunch?  Just knock on the door, and tell her you know me, and I asked you to drop it off.”

“You could Doordash it from someplace.  I’m not a delivery service for your hookups Seresin.”

“It’s not like that.  I don’t want to send some stranger she doesn’t know coming to my house and freaking her out.”

“But you want me to go?  You could call and tell her what’s going on, and you were sending her food.”  Penny responds.

Too late Jake realizes that while you do know Penny, she can’t know that she knows the person staying with him..  You don’t want anyone to know you are here yet.

“I know you.  Please Penny, my dear.  I wouldn’t bother you if this wasn’t important.  I can’t call and tell her, her phone isn’t working.”

“Fine, because I have a few errands to run anyways.  You owe me Lieutenant.  What does she eat?”

“I know I do. How about a turkey sandwich, no onion.  Maybe a side of soup if you have it.  If you just let her know it’s there and leave it on the front porch she can grab it from there whenever.”

“Alright, I’ll get this over there in a little bit.”

“Thank you so much Penny.”  

After making sure Penny knows where she is taking it, Jake heads back inside.  He never noticed Maverick back inside watching him through the window. 

Hangman picks at his lunch, not much of an appetite even though he only grabbed a protein bar for breakfast.  Coyote tries to get him to talk about this morning, but he keeps avoiding the questions.

While the aviators are back in the briefing room with Maverick, Penny is about to pull into Jake’s driveway.  She decides at the last minute to go past and come back around.  She parks her car on the other side of the road facing Jake’s place and walks up to the front porch. 

Penny tries to peer in the windows as she moves closer to the house, but can’t see anything with the curtains pulled. This all just seems a little off to her.  Once she’s outside the front door, she can faintly make out sound coming from a tv.  Knocking on the door and ringing the bell, she waits for Jake’s guest to answer.  After a minute or two, no one comes, but Penny can no longer hear the television.

“Hello, I’m Penny.  I know Jake, or Lieutenant Serisen, he asked me to drop off some food here because he got stuck on base,” she calls out to whoever is in the house.

Curled up on the corner of Jake’s couch, you are frozen in place once the knocking starts.  You mute the movie, hoping whoever it is will go away thinking no one is home.  Then you hear the visitor call out and identify herself.

Your heartbeat starts to slow back down when you realize the person outside isn’t a direct threat, but you still don’t want her to know you are the one inside.  Penny’s friends with your mom, so there is a chance she could tell her about seeing you.  Why did Jake do this?  You could have just waited for him to get home.  Although your rumbling stomach disagrees, especially with the thought of something Penny made you.

A few more minutes go by, and you hear your favorite bartender call out again.  “Okay, well if anyone inside can hear me.  I’m going to go, but the food is sitting outside the door.”

You give it a few minutes and slowly move toward the front window and pull the curtain back slightly.  There isn’t a car in the driveway, so she must be gone already.  Moving toward the front door, you check out the peephole to be sure before unlocking it.  Sliding onto the porch you pick up the bag in your good hand before locking yourself inside once again. 

Penny is still sitting in her car, watching Jake’s front door, trying to figure out what is going on with the aviator she’s grown fond of.   It has been a few minutes and she just about gave up on anyone appearing, when a woman slowly steps out the door in a too big Navy sweatshirt, and leggings.  It looks like there is something on her left hand, and even from the road, Penny can make out bruises on her neck and face.  It isn’t until she really looks at the face before the woman slides back in the house that she realizes she is looking at Y/N Kazansky.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 5

IGY Tags

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#I Got You #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #tw dv mention #tw injury #tw abuse

[britcision]

I gave you Danny last week, and continuing my cruel streak of not giving you the Bruce-And-Constantine that makes up most of the meat of this chapter… 😈 have some Jason!

We’re close to the end my dears so with any luck this is the last WIP Wednesday we’ll spend on chapter 11, and get that posted soon! I’m just slowing down a little, because Jason’s… well, he’s a little heavy in this one

Needs some cheering up. As always, the rest of the fic is in the tag and on AO3 under Danny Fenton: Dead and Loving It

——————

Fuck the no killing rule, Jason was gonna murder Harley Quinn. And by that, yeah, he probably actually meant “seek vengeance in some small but annoying way”, but still.

He didn’t actually have a crush on Danny. It was a bit they were putting on to fuck with his nosey brothers, and it was probably a good sign that they’d apparently fooled Harley too.

But Harley was a hopeless romantic and prone to see romance where none existed, so maybe it wasn’t that good.

More importantly, Danny didn’t fucking know he was Red Hood yet. He’d have to text Harley tonight and drill that in, since she’d definitely picked up that Danny was in on the secret.

And since apparently they were all gonna be hanging out tomorrow.

He kinda wished he hadn’t brought it up. That Harley hadn’t asked.

He’d monopolised so much of Danny’s time already over the break, three full days and they still had to make that run back to Frostbite.

Danny must have had some other plans. Something he actually wanted to do with his time instead of just following Jason around.

The gala had been fun though. And so had today, it just… Jason couldn’t help feeling he was being too needy. Too clingy, with a guy he’d known for all of a week if you were generous.

Being around Danny made him feel like himself for the first time in fucking years, and he knew what he’d have given up for that.

He didn’t want to be too much. Too pushy. Didn’t want Danny to get sick of hanging out with him so soon, and leave him right back where he’d been; bitter, angry, and alone.

At least Danny didn’t seem to be thinking too much about Harley’s parting shot. There was definitely something on his mind, but they hadn’t actually unlinked arms.

Jason could feel his aura.

Concern-worry-worry.

Shit, they hadn’t fucking unlinked arms. Should they? Should Jason have? For fucks sake he was literally clinging to the guy, this was fucking ridiculous, he should just.

But Danny hadn’t pulled away.

It’d be weird to pull away now.

Jason managed to keep himself distracted in that little spiral all the way to the garage he’d parked his bike in. Danny waited until they left the manor’s grounds to speak again though, arms tightening around Jason’s chest.

“Pull over a sec?” He called above the wind, and Jason very firmly did not let that pitch him further. He pulled over, still firmly in the heights and far from any living souls.

Unless theirs counted. Probably not.

He dropped the kickstand and pulled off his helmet, hoping Danny just wanted to talk. Maybe ask him to make his excuses to Harley.

Ask Jason to drop him at the university and not follow him home. That’d make sense. He didn’t need a wayward puppy.

He didn’t actually get off the bike. Didn’t want to give up Danny’s arms wrapped around him, even if it was just for expedience.

And maybe realised that wasn’t a great idea when Danny rested his cheek on Jason’s back and a warm wave of relax-safe-reassurance threatened to swallow him.

“I know what you’re thinking about,” Danny admitted softly, and Jason damn near bolted. Barely heard the next words, which…

Well.

He knew Danny tended to overlook things. But it turned out he could be pretty damn perceptive too.

“She’s gonna be okay, you know. Cass. I can feel her anywhere in the city if I try, and I’ll know if something happens to her.”

And just like that, the bottom dropped out of Jason’s stomach.

He’d been trying not to think about it. Pretended he didn’t know what she’d be doing when she left, out in the city, one fucking accident from being like him.

Even worrying about Danny getting sick of him was better than that.

She might not even need the pit to bring her back this time. Gotham had a fuck ton of native ectoplasm even for a city; it couldn’t not.

Ectoplasm was made of and attracted to raw emotional energy. For all that people died every day in the city, more were born or moved in to join their ranks.

Gotham would be a metaphorical ghost town if they hadn’t, instead of the literal version slowly creeping across the city’s vigilantes.

From the rogues’ overdramatic schemes to the peoples’ undercurrent of rage and defiant joy, Gotham seethed with emotion. Most of the dead didn’t stay to use the ecto up, and every rogue attack brought a fresh wave.

Not clean ectoplasm like the realms, but tainted with their individual torments, the fierce glee, the desire to burn, it all churned into an ambient ectoplasm Danny swore he’d never seen in another city.

And that defiant spirit, the Gotham je ne sais quoi that made people put up with all the rogue attacks and dangers, was powerful too. Jason had known that even as a kid.

Now, it was literally the reason he was alive.

He might have a second core filling his system with pit water, but they’d both have dried up without the boundless “fuck off” energy Gotham was built on.

He’d felt it since the second he returned. He was alive in Gotham in a way he hadn’t been in Nanda Parbat, anywhere but the fucking pit. It let him think clearly.

Well.

Apparently Danny let him think clearly. That thought still stung. But it shouldn’t have surprised him.

He’d never been much of anything that other people didn’t make him.

It was why he didn’t really mind Clockwork trying to make him Danny’s knight within a couple hours of learning he was half dead. It was kinda what he did.

People had been using him as a weapon since he swung a tire iron at Batman himself. Protecting the guy who gave him his fucking soul back?

He’d have done that anyway, for free. And he got a kickass gun and a supernatural sense of when said asshole needed him. Honestly, easiest job of his life.

The catch would come eventually, but this whole “feeling the intent of people you talk to” thing left him way less suspicious than he still kinda felt he should be.

He’d rather that than be left nebulously owing his whole self to Danny with no way to repay him and no idea where the catch would come from.

It had just… never occurred to him that the same way Danny could reach out and find Vlad, he’d be able to find Cass. Or Jason himself, probably.

Jason hadn’t realised how tightly he’d wound himself until the pressure eased.

He sucked in a breath that seemed to fill his chest for the first time in hours, folded his arms forward onto the handlebars, and let his head rest against them.

Danny followed him down, never losing contact but his face slipping lower and lower down Jason’s back. It almost made him chuckle, imagining how they must have looked.

Actually, he did. Just a moment, a soft and almost giddy sound that he choked back immediately. He sounded… well. Not like himself.

He’d been itching since the girls left to patrol, wishing he could join them. Be Cass’s backup in the field and be sure she wasn’t going in on anything big alone.

Cass was a step beyond competent, she was exceptional and she’d been doing this for years without a shadow. On a regular day, she wouldn’t need help.

But hearing how close she was to losing her humanity and not coming back right no matter what had him on edge. He wanted to shield her, protect her from what he’d gone through.

It wasn’t that he wanted her out of the fight. The idea of asking her not to go out hadn’t even occurred to him. She could make her own choices and he’d back her with all he had.

He just absolutely fucking hated the idea that she was out there alone, while he had fucking nothing on him that’d let him go after her if she did need backup.

If she needed help, he’d have to waste time gearing up before he could go out after her. The other bats would have her back, they all would, so long as they weren’t busy too.

It wasn’t like he was anyone’s first choice for backup even now, he just.

Yeah. He might kinda get what Danny meant about his Obsession being protection. Protecting the bats was a recent addition, but Jason had burned himself out on enough missing kids since he got back to suspect.

He’d have to ask what an actual capital-letter Obsession felt like, but that would wait for another time.

Just knowing that Cass would be safe, had another pair of eyes and more powers than a Kryptonian watching her back made him feel like he could breathe again.

Even knowing that though, he was glad to have left the manor. He could take Danny home, suit up, and… wait.

Danny had no choice but to move back as he straightened, half moving to frown down at the smaller man.

“Is that why you wanted to leave?” He asked quietly, gauging Danny’s face.

Had Danny worked it out on his own? Felt him stressing out about his baby sister back in the field?

Did Danny know that Jason wanted to join her, if not necessarily which costume he wore, and cut his night short?

Would Danny do that for him?

The answer was obvious in the other man’s face as Danny shrugged, even before he spoke.

“I didn’t wanna put you on the spot, and I figured you’d rather get out of there,” he explained casually, leaning just a little into Jason. Enough to feel what warmth Danny had.

Jason hesitated for a long moment, not sure what to say. If he should thank Danny. If Danny would ask, and if Jason should tell him he was the Red Hood now.

It’d be weirder the longer he didn’t mention it. Like he was keeping a secret.

The same secret Danny had kept as a teenager, so at least he’d probably understand, but Jason didn’t like how it felt. He wasn’t fucking ashamed of being the Red Hood.

He’d done shit no one else ever could have, and every inch of his territory was safer than it had ever been without him. He was proud of what he’d done, even if he wouldn’t brag about his methods.

It worked. It got him where he was today, where he didn’t need to kill anymore because people turned tail at the hint of his damn name.

He still didn’t know how Danny felt about killing. It wasn’t something that came up in conversation much. Maybe he’d find a way to ask first.

Tonight, he managed a stiff nod and leaned a little of his own weight back into Danny. Even if the guy thought he was just gonna go home and mope there instead, it was a win.

“Thanks,” he said softly, half wishing for his helmet’s voice modulator. He didn’t like hearing his own voice sound so… vulnerable.

Danny, fucking angel of mercy that he was, chuckled softly and gave him a gentle tap upside the head.

“Yeah, well. Also wasn’t sure how the others would react to “99% of you are permanently on my radar” anyway, and I wanted to make sure you knew for Cass,” he explained cheerfully.

And yeah, Jason still hadn’t really processed that yet, and wasn’t even sure how he’d react. Smart fucking call on Danny’s part.

Chuckling under his breath, Jason shook his head and flipped the kickstand back up.

“Anything else before I take you to bed?” He asked, half teasing Danny’s own unfortunate choice of words earlier.

They were absolutely still fucking with his family to think this was some kind of romantic relationship. Maybe a bit to punish Bruce, who clearly couldn’t handle the idea of Jason happy.

Danny laughed, a hint of something Jason almost identified behind it, then settled himself more firmly against Jason’s back, hanging on properly again.

“Not a damn thing. Oh, are you gonna come pick me up tomorrow or do I make my own way to the manor to join you and Harley?” He asked, snugged up tight.

Jason had almost forgotten that was happening. Apparently. And suddenly he was glad for at least the motorcycle helmet as his cheeks flushed pink.

Fuck he’d say he was trailing after Danny like a puppy, except Danny was the one going where Jason needed to be.

Another excuse to get Danny on his bike, arms around him.

Fuck off, Jason Todd Romance Heroine. It was a goddamn jailbreak, if a legal one. Not a fucking meet cute.

“If you actually want to come,” he agreed a little hesitantly, because the voice that insisted he was just a burden and Danny was only humouring him wasn’t all displacement activity after all.

Or pit related, apparently. Delightful.

He coulda tried to pretend it was, but that had been more convincing back when it was always a background grumble of anger, not the little calm pool of happiness now sitting in his gut.

Unforeseen side effect of getting his toxic sludge cleaned up: he was gonna have to own some of his own bullshit now. Work out what was his and what wasn’t.

Danny leaned back a little, grip loosening, and Jason could feel concern like a whisper soft touch.

“Yeah… I would, if you don’t mind? It seems like he’s important to you.”

Jason wasted a moment trying to work out what the hell Danny meant by that.

Did he want to meet Croc cuz he was important to Jason? Or did he think Jason wouldn’t want him to if he was important?

Cuz while yeah, Jason considered Waylon a friend (and thanks, Harley, for the new name crisis, love that. The guy introduced himself as Killer Croc but Jason knew all about controlling a narrative) it wasn’t like he was family. Not like Dick, Cass, or the others.

Except. Roy was family. Long before any of the bats made it back into Jason’s good books, Roy was one of the first people to be happy Jason was alive.

And Waylon had helped Roy get help when Ollie fucking kicked him out.

Waylon had been a restraining hand on Jason’s shoulder too, in the bad old days. Keeping him from pushing too hard, going too big, doing something he really couldn’t come back from.

Family didn’t have to mean annoying texts at four AM. Didn’t have to come around for dinner every Sunday; how often did any of them really see Harley?

Fuck, how often would they have seen each other if Alfred didn’t have them all firmly under his culinary thumb.

Waylon had to count as a reliable old uncle at least.

And that kinda made it a different question. Did Jason want Danny to meet his family?

It had been an easy “yes” with the bats, not least because the nosy bastards would muscle their way in regardless. Croc…

Waylon never judged Jason. From his highest highs to lowest lows, he never looked down on him. Not even when he was telling Jason to stop and think.

It kinda made Jason ache for what his life should have been. His, and Waylon’s if he’d never been called Killer Croc.

And maybe it’d give Jason a read on how Danny would react to the Red Hood thing. Or whether or not Danny already knew.

——————

Ah, the darker sides of this story back again. We’ll get to Waylon himself next chapter (I hope), and in the mean time dear Jason has some baby angst and Bruce will only confuse things further

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 @perfectwastelandcreation @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 @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna

#danny fenton dead and loving it #wip wednesday #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton x jason todd #dead on main ship #chapter 11 #never make a promise you can’t keep #lots of angst today #not the deepest but lots for me

[steddiealltheway]

WIP Wednesday

pretend this isn't the fourth thing i've posted in the past like... two hours

but this is so cool! Thank you @zerokrox-blog for tagging me!

So this is a Soulmate AU that has been in my head for YEARS, and I've finally started writing it down so... here's the first chapter or maybe only part of it? I'm not sure yet. But here it is :)

A few weeks earlier… 

Steve sprints to the window, unlatching it easily and jumping through just to tuck and roll onto the soft carpet of Robin’s bedroom. 

“What the-” Robin starts to yell until she catches sight of Steve who holds a finger to his lips. He signals for her to close the windows and curtains quickly while he lays on the ground wiping the rain water mixed with blood out of his eyes. 

Robin quietly freaks out as she locks the window and pulls the curtain tight. She flicks on a lamp then digs under her bed for a first aid kit that makes Steve want to squirm away, but he can’t deny the need for some type of treatment for his wounds. As she’s carefully putting bandaids on what he assumes to be a large cut on his forehead, she whispers out, “What the hell happened?” 

Steve breathes out and does a quick assessment of himself. Nothing appears to be broken at the moment, but his vision is slightly swimming as the adrenaline wears off. He lets his eyes close as he leans into Robin. “Turns out I’m going to college with you after all.” 

He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that she’s giving him a weird look, but he opens them to let her know he’s serious about this. “Robin, promise to never call me ‘Steve’ again, okay?” 

Robin freezes and lets her hand fall from where it was smoothing out a bandaid. “What?” 

“Please,” Steve pleads and looks around frantically. “Call me… call me…” his head is pounding and his stomach slightly churns, so he relies on the last thing he saw, a name too unique to belong to any soul, “Call me Keys.” 

“Okay… Keys,” Robin says testing out the name as Steve’s eyes lull shut. “Now tell me everything.” 

Now 

Moving in sucks. Well, moving Robin in sucks. Steve had told her that she didn’t need to pack her entire room, but she insisted, “Keys, I will not be returning home after my first twenty-four hours away from it! And maybe I’ll need the whistle I got in elementary school! You never know.” 

Steve just sighs and hefts up yet another box from his car, carefully glancing around for anyone familiar before heading up to Robin’s dorm. He curses the broken elevator but realizes it likely wouldn’t have been much help since everyone else is moving in at the same time. He swerves just at the last second as some hyper dude with long hair runs down the stairs past him and Robin. For some reason, he feels a weird draw to them, but they probably just remind him of Dustin who he would’ve yelled at to slow the hell down. He misses that kid. 

Steve huffs as he makes his way to the third story of the building and spots the door to Robin’s room slightly ajar. Robin shoots him a look and they rush over to it only to slow down as they approach. Steve sets down the box and riffles through it settling on grabbing a random plaque from... “Your fourth-grade spelling bee, really?” 

“It’s one of my greatest accomplishments!” Robin whisper yells at him and nudges his shoulder. 

Steve rolls his eyes but takes the plaque and holds it up. He holds up his hand signaling three... two... one... 

Steve shoves the door open and yells as a blonde girl starts to scream. Steve quickly realizes his mistake and puts the plaque down on a nearby table and holds his hands up. “Woah! Oh, shit. Sorry. You must be Robin’s roommate. I’m Steve,” he introduces himself cautiously holding his hand out. 

Only, the girl doesn’t take it. Instead, she seems frozen as she glances over Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve’s hand drops and he looks over his shoulder to see what's happening but he’s only met with the sight of Robin staring longingly at the other girl. Steve looks back at the girl and sees it. “You must be Chrissy,” Steve breathes out. 

The girl nods slightly, and happiness alongside jealousy churns in Steve’s stomach. “Well, it’s been great meeting you. And I’ll just... see myself out. Robin, we can get the rest of your stuff later. I’m just going to head to my dorm.” 

Robin slightly nods, mirroring Chrissy’s same nod from earlier, and Steve is almost positive that neither of them are getting any of what he’s saying. Damn soulmates. 

Steve heaves Robin’s box through the doorway and lightly shoves her in before closing the behind her. This is certainly not how he wanted his college experience to start. 

He rushes down the stairs and tries not to think too hard about the whole Robin finding her soulmate thing. Like, yes, it’s great. He’s glad she has the perfect roommate and a soulmate who clearly just by first looks is crazy about her. But this means... fuck. 

Steve might be abandoned. He knows it’s unlike Robin, but he’s heard the soulmate stories. Christ, they’re literally a person’s other half, so of course they’re going to want to spend all their time with them which leaves Steve... alone. Or awkwardly third wheeling, but the sight of happy couples makes him irrationally angry. 

Well, with everything, Robin says that he should be reasonably angry about the whole soulmate thing, but... 

Steve shakes his head as he climbs into his car and watches that same long-haired boy heave a box up towards the building. Eddie. A voice in his head unhelpfully supplies, and Steve shakes it away because that would be impossible. 

He forces himself to tear his eyes away and look at the campus map. Sadly, he and Robin aren’t living in the same residence hall, but the buildings should be about a five-minute walk away. He spots his building and takes a deep breath as he thinks about dealing with parking. Luckily, he only has about one trip worth of things with him. 

He finds parking and curses under his breath as he rechecks his dorm number and pockets the key they gave him a few hours earlier. He pushes around the few boxes Robin has left so he can get out his one box and old backpack. Hopefully his roommate doesn’t judge him too much. 

The trek to the building isn’t horrible from the parking lot, but Steve is definitely thankful that he lives on the first floor. 

He finds his room fairly easily and digs his key out of his pocket so he can unlock the door. He sighs when he finds it’s already unlocked and prepares to meet his roommate. He tries to appear pleasant as possible and even tightly smiles as he enters the room. Half of it is filled with weird shit like posters and drawings that Steve thinks that Dustin would like. And he’s definitely gotta ask why the hell he has a giant sign that says “Corroded Coffin.” He whistles low when he spots the guitar propped in the corner of the room. He knows nothing about instruments, but he can tell it’s well taken care of. 

The only thing that he finds odd is the lack of a roommate in the room, but maybe he’s in the bathroom or something. 

Steve doesn’t think too hard about it because he’s filled with relief of finally being alone so he can breathe. It’s not that he isn’t a social person it’s just... he needs time to process the whole Chrissy and Robin thing. More than anything he wants to rant to someone about it, but his options of ranting are: Robin. 

But there’s probably a landline in the common area and definitely pay phones nearby so he can call Dustin eventually. 

He tugs at the leather band around his right wrist for a few minutes as he thinks before realizing the anxious tick and trying to stop. He needs Robin to go back to flicking him in the head every time he does it. Soulmarks don’t like being suffocated he guesses. 

He unpacks the few things he has, stuffing the few pairs of clothes he has in the supplied dresser and slipping sheets over his mattress and making up the thin comforter (curtesy of Robin’s mom) and pillow (also Robin’s mom) to make the place look somewhat like a home. He gets a framed picture of him and Robin out of his box and puts it on his desk lastly before turning around and walking towards his door. 

He stops and takes a breath before turning around and taking in his sad display of a room, but he can’t help but smile. Nothing can be worse than his room from a few weeks ago. 

All the sudden, the door swings open and collides with Steve’s back causing him to stumble forward and curse. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were...” the man trails off as Steve turns around. 

It’s the same long-haired guy he saw before, but close up he’s absolutely... 

Eddie. Soulmate. 

Steve’s entire being feels drawn to him, and it’s like he understands what all the soulmates mean when they say as soon as they saw them they just knew. And it feels so right. He’s somehow everything that Steve had always dreamed of since he first got his mark, and nothing at all like what he expected. He’s about to finally say that it’s him, it’s Steve, when he finally shakes himself out of it. 

No, it’s not him. It’s not possible. He’s already met Eddie. 

So, Steve sticks his hand out and says, “I’m Keys.” 

And something about his name must falter whatever is going on in the man’s head as he reaches out and replies, “Kas. Uh, you must be my s- roommate.” 

Steve smiles tightly as the label doesn’t rest well with him. He shakes his hand and can’t help but notice the way his hand feels right in his, but he’s also wearing a band around his wrist that kind of jostles with Steve’s and it feels so wrong like he needs to pry them both off- 

“My roommate who I just hit with the door. Shit, I’m sorry, man, I just got some crazy news that my best friend found her soulmate. At least, I think that’s what I was witnessing because she was just making out with this other girl, and I don’t know, I just kind of ran like hell. And I wasn’t thinking and bam hit you with the door,” Kas rambles out and it’s overwhelmingly endearing to Steve especially when he pulls his hair in front of his face and continues, “Sorry, man, I’m just kind of freaking out.” 

And Steve knows exactly what he means. “I can’t blame you. I just had the same sort of shit happen. My best friend just found her soulmate, and I’m at a loss. I know I should feel happy for her, but I can’t help but think I’m going to be abandoned or some shit.” Steve stops and wonders why the hell he’s talking so much and basically spewing his soul to a stranger. “Sorry,” Steve apologizes and shakes his head, “I don’t usually open up so easily.” 

“Neither do I, but that’s just because I have to keep up my dark and mysterious persona,” Kas says with a bright smile as he raises his hands and wiggles his fingers. 

Steve can’t help but laugh. 

Kas’s smile falls, but more in a dramatic way than a hurt way. “What? Do you not think I’m all dark and mysterious?” 

This makes Steve laugh even harder. He has no idea how this man with the energy of a hyper puppy and the biggest brown doe eyes he’s ever seen has ever appeared threatening or rather “dark and mysterious.” 

Kas sighs and frowns at him, but that just further drives home the point. Steve can’t help but try to stifle his laughter and reply as seriously as he can, “Oh, you’re dark and mysterious alright.” 

Kas lightly shoves him as a blush comes to his cheeks, and Steve doesn’t remember ever feeling so connected to someone as soon as he met them. He can’t help but think that Kas is thinking the same thing as they stare at each other, both smiling as something like hope stirs in Steve. 

He wishes more than anything that soulmates didn’t exist. 

“Hey, Kas!” 

“Keys!” 

Kas and Steve jump back as they stare at the two girls in their doorway who glance back at each other. “No way,” Robin and Chrissy both say together and laugh. 

It takes Steve a moment longer than everyone, but then he’s looking at Kas with wide eyes as he realizes how cruel and kind the universe really is. 

#steddie #steddie wip #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #soulmate au

[vladdyissues]

What do you think about au where Danny and Vlad are both teens? I know, there're some variants of this (from Friend From the Other Side to Vlad-befriended-with-Danny-only-for-his-hot-mom), so, I'd like to hear your version.

I actually really like this idea and had a blast drawing it for last year's Pompep Week prompt "Both Teens" (see below)

I'd planned on writing a short fic to go along with it when it came time to post everything on AO3, but I never managed to get too far. That WIP takes place in Danny's timeline (2004), where Vlad is a new kid in class. The working title is The New Kid (lol), which you can see here on my WIP "sort of" masterlist. And since no one asked about that one for the WIP game, here's a snippet:

“What’s your name?”

The boy hesitated. “Vlad.”

Danny’s heart sank. This kid was bully fodder for sure. “Wow. Uh, that’s—”

“Yes, I’m American. Yes, I was born in this country and speak English. No, I’m not a vampire,” the boy named Vlad snapped. 

Danny backpedaled. “It’s okay. I was gonna say it’s a pretty cool name.”

Vlad stared, head cocked and one eye narrowed.

“Yeah. Names that start with V are cool. Valentine, Vincent…”

“You must like Final Fantasy 7.”

After a startled pause, Danny laughed. “Yeah, I walked into that one, didn’t I? What about you? You play video games?”

“A little. Mostly arcade stuff. I’m pretty good at Mortal Kombat.”

Probably poor, Danny decided. “There’s an arcade here in town. I mean, if you don’t already know. They’ve got some good deals if you play by the hour.” He almost offered to meet up there sometime, then he realized he hadn’t even introduced himself. “Um, I’m Danny. Danny Fenton.” He pointed. “Those are my friends, Sam and Tucker. We were wondering if you wanna come sit with us.”

Vlad seemed tempted but cautious. “Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, they’re cool. Besides, you’re fresh meat sitting out here by yourself. The jocks’ll destroy you if they catch wind. C’mon, safety in numbers.”

“I’m not afraid of anyone.”

“Oh, you will be, trust me. Dash Baxter thinks it’s his personal duty to welcome every new student to Casper High by giving them a super wedgie, and you don’t even wanna see what he’s like when he’s in a bad mood.”

“Wow. Guy sounds like a fucking troglodyte.”

The smoothness with which the F-bomb was delivered stunned Danny for a few seconds. But then he smiled, invigorated by the sharp, cynical intellect he’d just discovered. “A total fucking troglodyte.”

A beat passed, then Vlad shouldered his backpack and gathered his lunch.

While I mostly prefer older Vlad and younger Danny because of the uneven power dynamic, it's fun to level the playing field every now and then and let them be the same age.

#asks #danny phantom #danny fenton #vlad masters #teen au #pompous pep #both teens #hjbwrites

[oleander-nin]

Hey you~ YES YOU PRETTY PERSON ❤️

I was reading your stuff and see that wasn't nothing about my best baby boy in blue??? Like,wha- he didn't survive the prison dimension for nothing y'know?

Sooo,why not ask about him??

I making a fic with this troupe and i'd love to see another's person writing this so.

Rise Leo x reader....

*Dramatic pause of course*

Enemies to lovers

Yes baby,my favorite type!

The scenario? Well...she is a new villain in New York with some unsolved things with draxum,wanna make him pay for past stuff and all. The turtles find out about it and of course go protect their dad for abvious reasons and when they find the reader,they are more sassy and flamboyant than Leo lol.

Reader is a menance (villain arc goes brrr) but at some point (probably on the kraang invasion) they helped the turtles noticing their feelings for Leo and kinda confess or sum?

Damm. This is kinda of a big request, sorry for that lol

A/N: I adore this concept more than you can possibly know. As soon as this chapter is posted, I will be reading up everything you have on it. It just sounds so fun!(I didn't read it b4 hand cause I didn't want to accidently copy smth. Hope it still fits lol) Kinda took the post Kraang part and ran with it tbh. Also, in my defense, I have like 5 Leo WIPs rn, I just haven't gotten around to finishing them. But this seemed like the best 1st Leo post I could ever make, so it got major priority. And thanks for referring to me as pretty person! It made me so happy and I almost didn't want to answer this 'cause I just liked to re-read this ask a lot. I'm sorry it's so bad, I was really tired and wanted to get something out quick. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

Warnings: Post-Movie, mentions of kraang, Leo being bandaged and wounded, bad writing.

Words: 1325

Summary: It's two weeks after the Kraang invasion, and you haven't seen Leo since.

I stare down at the broken city, disappointed with the destruction the Kraang brought with them. Sure, I wasn’t exactly what could be called a stand-up citizen, but this was my home too. It had been two weeks since the Kraang invasion, two weeks since I had fought alongside the people I had known as enemies, two weeks since I had last seen them alive. After the Kraang ship exploded and the portal closed, I hadn’t seen any of the turtles or their friends. Not that I’m worried of course. They were all resilient, able to survive everything thrown at them thus far. Even if they weren’t okay, I was a villain and they were heroes. Something happening to them would just be a relief to the constant thorn in my side they insist on being. I couldn’t start caring about them, not now. No matter how much I was worried.

I turned around, facing away from the broken city. Repairs had started, but it would take a long time. People were missing, buildings had fallen, and morale had gone down. After all, an alien invasion wasn’t something even New York could instantly bounce back from. We would heal, but it would take months, even years. I start to head back to my home, jumping across the rooftops when I can and using the fire escapes on others. It was calming, the wind brushing against my face as I ran. I avoid the remaining rubble and the broken glass littering the rooftops, not wanting to slice open my legs.

I take a running jump, feeling myself being suspended in the air before gravity takes hold once more. Shifting my weight, I crouch down as I land, trying to lessen the impact on my still bruised legs. I use the momentum from the landing to shoot myself forwards, laughing as I feel the wind against my face. I get ready to make the next jump, my arms swinging backwards to help gain the right momentum, but I falter when I hear a voice in the distance. Leo’s voice. Slowing down, my arms sticking out to the sides as I try to not fall, my head snaps over to where I heard his voice. I knew I shouldn’t care, why did it matter that I heard him? We were enemies, I hated him, and he hated me. Right? I ignore my screaming brain, walking forwards and peering over the edge of the roof.

There they were, the four turtles and their human friends. Gross. I let out a grimace, watching as they waited in the alley, 3 pizza boxes in the orange ones arms. I continue to scan over them out of curiosity, trying to find Leo. His brothers were all there, having minimal damage done to them(Except the red one, but I already figured his shell wasn’t the only thing damaged the last I saw him.) I kept seeing basic glances of Leo, but the red one was blocking my view. I huff in frustration, moving along the edge of the roof to try and see him better. I could hear him just fine, but I wanted to see him.

I jump to a slightly lower building, keeping in the shadows so they don’t notice me. I had no idea why I cared so much, but I felt like I needed to see Leo. I wanted to make sure he was safe too. I duck down farther behind the ledge of the rooftop, the entrance to Run Of The Mill opening as someone stepped out. A very goat-like purple yōkai, stepped out. I groan, grimacing as I look at Baron Draxum. I let out a huff of air, frustrated. I give up on staying behind to check on Leo. I heard his loud voice, so he was probably fine. 

I keep quiet as I climb up a building, leaping across the residential and commercial buildings. If I really wanted to, I could just cause chaos in a few weeks to make sure they all showed up. But right now? Right now I just wanted to sleep. I jump onto a building with a wider roof, looking across the skyline. The broken city still managed to be beautiful, the people on the ground scurrying to be wherever they were needed. I hear a small thud behind me, my ears picking up the familiar pattering of footsteps. I continued to scan the horizon, pretending I was oblivious to the figure behind me. I grip my knife and shift my weight slightly, waiting until the perpetrator was in range. Once I could hear the breath of the person, I turned around, sweeping their legs from under them and holding a knife to their throat.

The attacker lets out a small yelp and a groan as they hit the ground, a shaky smile on their green face as they look up at me. It was Leo. I quickly get off of him, pulling him up with me as I put my knife back into its sheath on my side. I take in his appearance, my mouth pressing into a tight line as I notice his bandages. His carapace was completely wrapped up, as well as most of his platron. Different bandage wraps were scattered all over him, covering most of his scaly skin from sight. 

“What happened to you?” I ask, a small frown on my face. Leo’s smile never drops, pulling me into a tight hug.

“I missed you too! You know, it’s been so boring without you stirring up trouble every other day.” Leo pulls back from the hug, a hand on each of my shoulders as he shakes me lightly, mock disappointment on his features. “You disappeared before my grand finale! You didn’t even get to see how awesome I was! You are one cruel, cruel frenemy, you know that?”

I roll my eyes, batting his hands off my shoulders. “Oh please, I had more important things to do. Like, oh I don’t know, making sure Kraang minions didn’t kill a bunch of people?” I jut my hip out, looking Leo up and down again. “Seriously though, what happened after I left?”

“Aww, does someone care?” Leo teases, a smug grin on his face. My frown deepens, knowing I shouldn’t be upset he was wounded. I shouldn’t care. I should be ecstatic he got hurt, the only thing I should be upset about is that he wasn’t knocked out of commission. We were enemies, they were friends of Draxum.

I turn around, trying to ignore the hole of despair growing in my chest. He was covered in so many bandages, new scars covering his visible skin. I felt sick just looking at him. Would he have been fine if I stayed? If I didn’t rush off? I couldn’t think of it right now, not wanting to come to terms with the fact that I cared for him.

Leo grabs my arm before I can jump to the next roof, pulling me back and putting his hands back on my shoulders, keeping me in place. “Hey, what’s gotten into you? Are you okay?” His voice is soft and his eyes are full of concern. It all just makes me feel worse. “You’re usually spitting back one liners and being all sarcastic, did something happen?”

I look back at Leo, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I try to figure out how to explain what I was feeling. I sigh, pulling Leo in for a hug, being careful not to put too much pressure on any of his wounds. I assumed I did a good job, as Leo just laughed and hugged me tighter against him. “It’d just be really inconvenient if something happened to you. You can’t just leave me with your brothers, they're boring.” 

Leo laughs at that, pulling away from the hug with a dopey grin on his face. “I knew you cared.”

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise leo #tmnt leo #leonardo #rottmnt leo #tmnt fanfic #this is dumb #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #I tried #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rise leo x reader #leo x reader #fanfic #leo fanfic #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

[likesunsetorange]

13

Praying that its e2l related 🤣🤞

revy for you i opened my e2l doc and worked on the intro ive been struggling with LOL

so exes to lovers wip! i know this au is neglected here but here’s a little preview! this takes place a year before their breakup :)

a little long but 1.4k since i haven’t posted anything from this au!!!!!

February 2022 Portland, Oregon

The last few bits of remaining sun peeked out through the clouds, casting a warm glow into the living room. Short winter days had quickly transitioned into another long winter night, leaving everyone to their own devices.

Mikasa glanced around the room, eyeing her friends from where she sat on the couch, finding herself too tired to go and socialize with everyone else. After a day of hiking that Eren had forced them upon, everyone had been trying to wind down, attempting to preoccupy themselves, which created the mass of chaos before her.

Sasha and Connie trying (and failing every time) to start a fire in the fireplace; Jean and Ymir arguing over how to properly cut onions while they (Armin) tried to make dinner together, and she was sure there was something else that had been brought up that she couldn’t quite remember or bother to care about; Pieck and Hisu struggling to carry trays of hot chocolate to the living room, only causing Mikasa to worry that they would be charged an extra fee for whatever sort of mess that they made in the process; Hitch resided beside her on the couch, trying to figure out how to load the cartridge of film into her film camera, and ultimately failing; and Eren, she had realized, was nowhere to be found.

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the room, looking for any trace of him, knowing that his presence would be requested as soon as Hitch figured out how to reload her film camera—insisting that their trip be further documented. 

“Hey, Hitch, have you seen Eren?” Mikasa asked, turning to face her.

Hitch, who hadn’t bothered to look up from what she was doing, shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, I thought he left a while ago. He seemed all upset or something—I thought you two were fighting or something, to be honest.”

Mikasa’s face scrunched in annoyance, especially considering she hadn’t seen Eren since he went to take a shower over an hour ago. “We aren’t fighting, what are you—”

“Got it!” Hitch cheered, ignoring Mikasa’s comment. She turned towards where everyone else was, so they could better hear her. “Hey! Let’s take a picture, finally! I got this stupid thing working.” Mikasa eyed Hitch, her face giving away her irritation at her lack of social awareness, causing Hitch to cower in fear (though she would probably never admit it). “And someone go find Eren! Mikasa’s worried.”

Mikasa huffed as she stood up, filing herself to the larger couch while Hitch positioned the camera in front of it. She watched as everyone crowded around the couch, everyone finding a seat on or in front of the couch. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Eren, worried about what could have possibly upset him. 

The feeling of strong arms wrapping around her middle took her out of her thoughts. She turned to face the culprit, the familiar viridian eyes greeting her with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he greeted, a hint of something she couldn’t quite decipher lingering in his voice. “You miss me?”

Mikasa’s hand found his cheek, gently caressing it. “I did, actually,” she mused. “Everything okay? You were gone for a bit—Hitch said you looked upset when you ran off to wherever.”

Eren came around, fixing Mikasa into his lap, as he positioned his chin comfortably onto her shoulder. Hitch was still fidgeting with the camera, giving Eren no time to avoid her question. “Just stuff with my parents… You know my dad hasn’t been doing good—the company and all that. But I don’t wanna talk about it right now, we’re on a trip, and your birthday is tomorrow—that’s what matters right now.”

“Eren… You know that stuff is important—” Mikasa started, her words cut off by Hitch once again.

“Okay, everyone hurry up! We have like ten seconds before it takes the picture so don’t fuck it up!” She yelled as she ran towards the couch, taking a seat next to Armin and Sasha.

Mikasa released a sigh not wanting their conversation to be interrupted, but not having a choice in this instance. She fixed her face into a smile as she waited for the flash to go off, not wanting to irritate Hitch any further. 

They took picture after picture until Hitch was satisfied, resulting in sore cheeks for everyone, and earning complaints from everyone. Everyone gathered around the coffee table, passing around the printed-out photos.

Mikasa was finally ready to be done, wanting to go look at the pictures herself, when Hitch stopped her. “Hey, you two stay there. Let me take one of you two,” she said, motioning them to sit back down. “You’ll thank me when you have cute pictures to show your future kids one day.”

“Hitch, just take the picture,” Mikasa muttered, her voice teetering the edge of being snappy.

Mikasa wrapped her arm around Eren, nestling closer into his side, trying to relieve herself of her slight irritation, knowing nobody was at fault in this situation. She found herself frustrated that she was annoyed in the first place, knowing that there was nothing to be upset about, she should be enjoying herself, knowing she was surrounding by all the people she loved.

As if Eren could sense her uneasiness, she felt him press a kiss onto her cheek. “Hey, relax,” he whispered into her ear. “There’s nothing to worry about, okay?” Mikasa felt her shoulders loosen up, Eren’s voice and presence the one thing to always bring her back down to earth.

“Okay, on three! Three… two… one!” Hitch counted down, the flash going off on one. She handed them the undeveloped picture before joining the others, rambling about how she deserved to be the godmother to their hypothetical future children for things like this.

“It is a nice picture, she has a good point,” Eren said as he inspected the picture. “I think it would be nice to have for stuff like that.”

A smile lit across Mikasa’s face, kids, and a future. Things she had always considered but always seemed so far off—but now, seemed closer than she liked to admit. “You wanna be the father to my kids then, huh?” She teased, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Who else would be the father to your kids?” Eren scoffed, his brows furrowing the way he always did when he tried to hide his emotions—whether it be annoyance or jealousy. 

“Nobody but you, Eren,” she said, chuckling before pressing a kiss to a forehead. “That would be nice, though, little versions of us, don’t you think?” 

“Mhmm, I think about it all the time, to be honest,” he admitted.

“You do?”

“Well, maybe not the kids and the specifics—although I would want us to have all girls if it was my choice,” he said, chuckling. “But just about us, and our future in general. I love you, I see you in my future always.” 

After so many years of being together, it was hard to remember a time when Eren wasn’t in her life. There had never been a time in Mikasa’s life where there had been no Mikasa and Eren in some capacity—whether that was friendship or dating—he was a permanent fixture in her life, and she knew he always would be.

“I love you too, Eren,” Mikasa replied, interlacing her hand with his. “Always have, always will.”

“Even when we were kids and I pushed you too hard off the swings and gave you your scar?” A dimple peeked out from his cheek, a grin flashing across his face.

“I think I was too busy crying to think about whether I loved you or not—but you made your parents buy us ice cream, so I’m sure seven-year-old Mikasa loved you just a bit then too.”

“Well I hope you’ll love me in the future and don’t somehow find a way to get tired of me.”

“How could I ever get tired of you, Eren?” She said, smiling, before pressing another kiss to his lips and standing up. 

Mikasa helped Eren to his feet before he enveloped her in another hug, tucking her into his chest. “I don’t know, but I hope you never do. I don’t know how I’d live a life without Mikasa, you really are my other half.”

She hummed in response, wrapping her arms around his middle. “Yea, I don’t know how I would either, Ren. Love you a bit too much to ever get rid of you.”

#asks #exes to lovers au #vic’s wips

[n0sewise]

I was tagged by @recents on my main blog for WIP Wednesday, so I’m posting here on my side blog since this is where I post writing/fandom stuff. I’m tagging everyone and no one bc I’m too anxious to individually tag people (//∇//)

Anyway, here’s an excerpt from my killugon royalty au. Super rough and it needs way more fleshing out, but I think you can still get the idea from what’s here:

Kurapika wasn’t all that bad. Gon actually quite liked his tutor, and he’d come highly recommended to Aunt Mito as a fine scholar and an even brighter teacher. Even now, his smooth voice carried pleasantly throughout the room as he lectured Gon on something about fish. Fishing, probably. The Eastern Coast was known for its plentiful fish, having the good fortune of being located in the middle of the Gulf of Mobius. Or was it the Western Coast? One of the coasts, anyway. He’d only just gotten back from visiting a neighbouring earl’s daughter in the east, and Gon had quite liked the beaches. There hadn’t been much time to explore; there were dances and feasts, and the earl had wanted him to get to know his—

“Prince Gon?”

“Sorry, what?”

Kurapika’s delicate brows knit together in a pinched crease on his forehead. “I asked if you could tell me why Kujira stations our naval forces on the Eastern Coast only.”

”Oh,” said Gon. He thought for a moment. It would have something to do with fish, wouldn’t it? Kurapika had been talking about fish, and about—

He was saved from answering by a frenzied knock at the heavy, cypress door.

It was Zushi once again, and breathing hard like he’d run the entire way there.

“Your Excellency,” he panted, nodding at Kurapika. “Your Royal Highness, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but the Queen wishes to see the prince.” He straightened up from his deep bow. “She’s in her chambers,” he added. “It’s urgent.”

Gon could hardly fight his grin.

”I really should—“

”Just go,” said Kurapika with a dismissive gesture.

Aunt Mito’s chambers were all the way on the other end of the palace, and nearly the complete and polar opposite of Kurapika’s study. They were bright and airy, with long sheer curtains that fluttered gently in the breeze, and nearly every surface was decorated with a flowering plant or vine of some sort. Gon smiled when he spotted his mother busily tending to one of her plants, imbuing it with her own sparkling energy until its leaves were plump and vibrant with life.

“Aunt Mito? You wanted to see me?”

“Gon!” She turned and met him with a bone crushing hug once he was within reach.

“Is everything okay? Zushi said it was urgent.”

She waved a hand impatiently, her armful of bangles and charms clacking all the while, and laughed him off. “That boy is so serious,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong, but I���ve received another courtship proposal, and—“

Gon couldn’t help it, he wilted on the spot the moment the word courtship left her mouth.

”Aunt Mito, this is the eighth one this year, and it’s only April!”

”It’s only April and you’ve turned down eight perfectly nice options!” she countered. “Come sit,” she said, moving over to settle on her bed. “Sweetheart, I really think you’ll like this one.”

Gon collapsed next to her, falling back onto Aunt Mito’s soft blankets with a grunt.

”You said that last time,” he reminded her. “And it’s okay, I didn’t mind meeting her at all! I thought Noko was a very nice girl!”

”She was,” Aunt Mito agreed, “but I really do think you’ll want to see this next one. He’s a prince just like you,” she added. “So you’ll have that much in common.”

”Sure,” he said, with a brightness he didn’t feel. “I’ll go look. It can’t hurt, right?”

”Wonderful! The Padokean emissaries are already waiting for you to approve.”

Gon blinked. “Sorry, what?”

Aunt Mito could only smile helplessly. “They were insistent that their prince’s portrait be viewed in the best possible light, and I wouldn’t let them have the throne room for it.”

”All that for a painting? I’ll meet him, if that’s what you’re asking, Aunt Mito.” He’d already pushed himself up into a seated position, but even from this angle, she was hard to read, a funny sort of smirk twitching on her lips.

“There’s no need for that, Gon,” she said. “Just go and have a look and you can let me know if you’d like us to make arrangements. The emissaries are in the courtyard.”

Weird, thought Gon as he walked through the palace. All that fuss for a painting seemed excessive, but he’d promised Aunt Mito. Padokea rang a distant bell in the back of his mind, and he remembered that it had been in one of the readings Kurapika had wanted him to finish. Nothing to do about it now, he figured, already smiling as he stepped back out and into the sunshine. He’d reached the courtyard.

The emissaries were indeed waiting for him outside. There were two of them, and they looked woefully out of place under the warm blanket of Kujiran sunlight. Both wore sharply tailored jackets with stiff high collars that covered their necks entirely. They stood among the jacaranda trees, solemnly holding what must have been the painting under a dark veil of fabric.

“Your Royal Highness,” said the one on the right, bowing his head.

“Oh, hi,” said Gon. They still hadn’t lowered the painting, and he wondered if their arms ever got tired. “You know you can put that down, right?”

The second emissary looked at him, and despite maintaining a rather stoic expression, Gon could see her lip curl ever so slightly in what he could only assume was disgust.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you!”

”We have been entrusted with the safe passage of our crown prince’s portrait,” she sniffed. “Its beauty shall never touch the ground beneath our feet.”

”Uhhh,” said Gon. “Okay, well whenever you’re ready, I guess?”

Both of them straightened immediately, standing even more stiffly than before. With a sweeping motion of his arm, the first man began to speak.

“Prince Gon of Kujira, we present to you The Crown Prince of Padokea, First of His Name, Heir to the Throne of Shadows, and Pride of the Zoldyck Family: His Royal Highness Prince Killua Zoldyck.”

And Gon hardly had enough time to reflect on either the lengthy title, or how the emissary managed to say all of that without taking a single breath, because his partner had already pulled the veil from the painting, and there, looking out at him from a gleaming silver frame, was the most beautiful boy he’d ever laid eyes on.

Gon’s breath caught in his throat as he stared. Immediately he understood why the emissaries had insisted on unveiling it among the jacaranda trees. Anything less would’ve been an insult to the boy in the painting. He gazed haughtily out of the frame at Gon, his sharp, elfin features frozen in a bored, half-lidded expression. It was hard to know where to look, Gon realized, his gaze roving every which way. There was the sharp angle of the prince’s jawline, softened only by his full, pouting lips. The prince’s hair too, was striking in its own right. It was entirely white, like the smooth, sun bleached colour of a seashell, framing his face in messy waves. In the end it was his eyes that Gon couldn’t look away from. They were large and blue, and framed by a set of long, silver eyelashes that lent him the appearance of something not quite human staring out from behind his frame.

One of the emissaries cleared their throat.

“Is he to your liking then?”

Gon forced a laugh and rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck as he grinned.

”Yeah—I mean yes. Yes. He’s…” he trailed off. “Send the letter. Please. I’d very much like to meet him.”

An odd sort of smile twitched at the edge of the shorter emissary’s mouth, and she hid it before he could comment.

“Very well,” she said. “We’ll notify the royal family.”

#nosewise writing tag #i swear I’m going to edit but right now I’m just trying to get a first draft finished

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

Fic Writer Interview

So I decided to snag this from @sparklepocalypse and fill it out because I'm cozy on my couch on New Year's Eve and fighting off a nap like a grumpy toddler. I'm actually fairly certain I've done this one before, now that I think about it, but oh well. The numbers are different since last time, so...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

60, apparently! 61 being posted later today!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 

178,579

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ghosts

Do we still have forever

Volume Control

Retaliation

Modification to the map of you

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

I respond to each and every comment that I receive. I try very hard to leave a personalized message for each person, but no matter what, even if it's just a "thank you," I will always respond! Even if it takes me some time!

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

To this day, the angstiest ending is Darkest before the dawn, which ends with hope, even if it doesn't end with an actual resolution. It's during canon, so the reader know what happens next.

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

I think my most recent Christmas fic, Oh what a laugh it would have been, has probably now overtaken one of my previous fics for overall happiest ending!

7. Do you write crossovers?

I haven't yet, but I'm absolutely open to it given the write parameters!

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I haven't yet, and I hope I never do, although I know that the internet can be a wild place.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

If you'd asked me back in July of this year, I would have said that I primarily write fade to black. Since then, I've written ridiculous amounts of smut. I'm still learning about various kinks I'd like to write about, because I don't want to just write without knowledge of the act itself, but I'm wading into the smut-verse now. I'd say the water's up to my knees, at this point. Got a ways to go.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, not that I've been made aware of, but I think it would be so neat.

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

I haven't but catch me and @thinkof-england cowriting something amazing now that the new year has arrived.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Y'all are gonna need to sit down for this. I don't think you're ready. Deep breath in. Hold it. Now let it out slowly. Calm your mind. Are you ready? Okay because I know this is going to come as a shock to you when I say that it's FirstPrince.

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

A Star Trek fic with Jim Kirk x an OC. I started it back in the spring and then RWRB happened and now it's just languishing away in my docs at just shy of 18,000 words.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told that I have realistic dialogue, so I'll count that as a strength. I also think I'm pretty skilled at metaphors. Love a good metaphor.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

The description of surroundings, including clothing and scenery. I feel like I don't do enough of this sometimes, and I'm trying to better at painting a proper picture.

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

I've done so! Lots and lots of research and consultation with native speakers to confirm accuracy.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Pirates of the Caribbean, apparently.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

There isn't really one out there. I'm super content with the permanent campsite I've built in FP land. Hopefully I'm allowed to hang out there for quite some time.

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

How am I supposed to pick a favorite out over 60 fics?!

I suppose if I absolutely HAD to pick right now, right this second, I'd say Ghosts, because the prompt for it as my first ever reader-submitted prompt on a comment from another fic. The reader enjoyed my fic so much that they asked if I'd write another, and Ghosts it what came of that interaction. I loved writing it and sharing it not just with that reader but with the fandom as a whole.

Gonna post my tag list for anyone who wants to participate!

@adreamareads @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @daisymae-12 @duchessdepolignaca03 @gayrootvegetable @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indomitable-love @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @leojfitz @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @ninzied @priincebutt @read-and-write- @rockyroadkylers @roseharpermaxwell@ships-to-sail @songliili @ssmtskw @statueinthestonetoo @stereopticons @suseagull04 @thinkof-england @tintagel-or-cockleshells@user-anakin @vanillahigh00 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew 

#fic writer interview #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #my fics #my writing #my wips

[shootingstarpilot]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

Thanks for the tag, @merlyn-bane!

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

Eight!

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

217,911

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

*sobbing* Star Wars, my beloved. The brainrot is real; I am consumed. When I was still on FF.net, though, I had stuff up in Harry Potter and How to Train Your Dragon.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

back then, i was dauntless

how to bring him home

if i don't make it back (from where i've gone)

though some would harm you

like lightning changing hands

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

I absolutely do! I feel bad because I know I've gotten some lovely comments on chapters that aren't the most recent one, and those tend to get lost in the inbox, but I promise I'm working on it- if you get a response from a comment you left a year and a half ago, don't hold it against me 😅

I do it because I want so badly to build community here! I love getting comments from people, responding to something with a wee hint of a tease because I'm AWFUL and then getting a keysmash of a response and then exchanging snippets in the comments, truly, it fills me with delight- and I've met some absolutely wonderful people who I got introduced to by responding to comments-

Anyway. Community. That.

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh. Hm. Hm.

I... guess it would have to be though some would harm you? Although I'm not sure if I feel confident in that designation, because it's very much part of a multi-work series. And I'm too much of a sucker for happy endings to write a stand-alone fic that doesn't have one, I think.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh, neural plasticity, for sure! Short and sweet <3

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

A bit. I can brush off the "actually the Jedi were the real monsters" assholes easily enough, but honestly, the comments that hit the hardest are the ones that clearly come from people who think they're offering ✨constructive criticism.✨ Not only because I didn't ask for it, but also because saying my work is "fatiguing" or "I'm sure there's a decent story here, but it's being buried under what you're trying to do with it-" there's nothing constructive there.

Side note: the person who left that last comment deleted it about half an hour later, because when I went to reply, it had vanished from my inbox. I don't know if they did that because they didn't want me to be able to reply, or if they realized that what they said was unhelpful and mean, but if they ever happen to see this-

I still got the email, prick.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Write? No, I haven't quite worked up the panache to try. Reading, on the other hand...

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I do have snippets of one crossover that I actually posted in an anonymous collection, ha- an old BBC Merlin/ Good Omens/ Supernatural fic that I dug out of my old documents. Other than that, no- unless you count the Prequels and the Clone Wars as different enough to qualify as a crossover.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not that I know of- very much open to it, though!

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Since I don't think taking drabbles in tumblr chats to ridiculous lengths counts, I'd have to say no- I'd like to, though!

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Codywan. Fiercely, unwaveringly Codywan.

Just to reinforce this- 292 of my bookmarks consist of Cody/Obi-Wan. The next most common romantic pairing (Aziraphale/Crowley) has less than half that, at 121.

I'm a goner, and I can't even bring myself to regret it.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

OKAY SO I've written snippets of a modern AU focusing on Helix, Needle and Stitch, and I'm totally gonna take this opportunity to rage about it. I'm probably never gonna finish it, but it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling, so, hey- what else is fic for, really, if not for indulging yourself?

At first, it's just Needle and Stitch. It's just been the two of them, for as long as Stitch can remember. Needle's only a few years older than him, but he's raised him, kept him in school, kept a roof over their heads and food on the table-

Food on Stitch's plate, at least.

Then, one night, Needle does not come home.

A hit-and-run, the nurse tells him, although the words will not trickle through until much later. A coma.

He will not, they say patiently, come home for some time.

(There is so much that needs doing.)

Helix, meanwhile, is studying physical therapy at the local community college and working part-time at his brother Ace's bakery.

It's during one of these shifts that a skinny little twerp comes in and hands him a job application.

(Rent and bills and Needle Needle Needle-)

It doesn't take Helix long to realize something is... off.

Ace tells him not to push it, but-

The kid's a good worker. Great, as a matter of fact. He's never late. Stays past closing, too, if they've had a rush. He tells Helix about his brother and nothing else.

(His brother hasn't come to visit.)

Everything that's not sold at the end of the day gets packaged up and given out. They only toss in the dumpster what's really, truly inedible- stuff that got dropped in the kitchen, scraps left over from customers-

He thinks it's raccoons, at first, until he peers in and sees Stitch flatten himself against a heap of bags in the corner.

They package up leftovers for him, after that. A bit more than leftovers, maybe. Ace sets aside sandwiches. Helix buys him a thermos and tells him it's been in the lost and found for over a year. They make sure he eats.

(Needle's getting transferred out of the ICU.)

Stitch is trying. He's doing everything he can, and more besides. But Needle's life is too expensive and he's buckling under the weight.

(He hasn't even grieved. Not really. No room. No time.)

Eventually, something has to give.

He does.

(He hadn't expected someone to be there to catch him.)

Featuring:

Helix stumbling into adopting first one, then two idiot kids

Ace being a supportive brother

Needle finding his way home

Mace Windu as Needle's (unfairly attractive, Helix thinks) neurologist

Obi-Wan as a hospital social worker who gets assigned Needle's file

Cody as Obi-Wan's husband, Helix's cousin, and children's book author (Stitch's favorite)

(listen I am WEAK for author!Cody, truly)

(Helix was totally the one who got them together and he regrets it every day of his life.)

Sheev Palpatine as the epitome of the evil of the American healthcare system

The Melidaan crew running a long-term, non-profit care facility that offers both in-patient and out-patient rehab services

16.) What are your writing strengths?

(I'VE PUT TOO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS. SHIT.)

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I am, apparently, really good at writing breakdowns. >:3

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Dialogue does not come easily to me. I have to work a bit to hit my stride. But I think it turns out well enough!

Hm. Coming from a purely technical perspective here, I think the reader should be able to understand everything that's spoken in a fic. If a character says something in another language, then I think the best way to convey that is, "X muttered something Y didn't catch," or, if the listener recognizes that it's at least in another language, "X muttered something in French."

If the reader should understand it, then something along the lines of: "'I knew we shouldn't have trusted him,' X muttered in French."

If the POV character doesn't understand the language, it doesn't make sense to provide the reader with a perfect transliteration of what the other character is saying. The character wouldn't have that knowledge. It can really take me out of the fic when two characters suddenly start conversing in written-out sentences in another language, and I have to scroll all the way down to the footnotes for translations.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

But then again, that's just my opinion- I'm sure others have their own thoughts on this!

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Harry Potter.

Hell, I have to say like lightning changing hands, if only because whatever fic I'm writing at the moment is my favorite. It's the act of creation that does it for me!

(Also because it's such a good opportunity to explore so many relationship dynamics.)

No-pressure tags for @jedi-enthusiast, @themonopolyhat, @shadow-pixelle, and @foreverchangingfandomsao3!

#shoulder the sky #me: let's summarize this lil nebulous au for sharing! :D #also me ten minutes later: shit. it's grown legs. #personal #my writing

[n7punk]

2023 Writing Wrapped!

I think I forgot to do this last year but I was a little burnt out at the time. I had so much fun writing this year I wanted to do a little retrospective/celebration for it (which I encourage everyone to do! Even if you wrote just one fic, take a second to congratulation yourself for accomplishing it).

I wrote 34 fics and updated 118 times this year. Almost half of those were for the Children of the Crystal series (16 fics) but that series was so fun and clocks in at 121k so I'm totally okay with that. If anything, that's a bit of equalizing, because I know my fics are a lot longer on average than most people's since I write a lot of longer AUs (quick math off the top of my head is about half my fics are longer AUs) so now my words-per-fic average is probably a bit closer to usual lol. Actually that got me curious and my average is 20,176 which is honestly lower than I was expecting but still almost certainly higher than average since I've seen a lot of profiles without a single fic that long. Okay I'm a nerd and I did the math and it was only 21,041 before this year which is way more surprising since I really would have thought it was more.

Anyway, I posted 610k words this year between all my fics (though I wrote more in WIPs and upcoming projects). I had so much fun with a lot of the fics I did this year. Children of the Crystal is still a stand out for me, but I'm SO proud of 'the long way down' and I spent the first half of the year pretty feral for each idea as I tore through Hurricane Adora, As Many Lives As It Takes (To Be With You), Superzero, City of Angels, Trade Today For Tomorrow, and CotC of course. February through August I averaged 12 updates a month which is. insane. I updated daily for 12 days in a row in July/August for CotC, and I spent most of that fic series updating every other day.

A lot of that creative energy came from the health stuff that has been bogging me down for a few years (and especially last year) improving, and though I'm still dealing with that, I'm doing a lot better and it has really felt like rediscovering my creative passion. I had a span from like March-ish trhough August I called my "unhinged era" between how feral I was for my ideas, how much I was updating, and just how wild some of those ideas were lol. My slow down at the end of the year came from starting a new job that was very demanding and especially exhausting with my health issues, plus health issues for the rest of my family, but I've still been averaging updating once or twice a week since, so I'm happy with that given everything that has been going on.

Now let's get to the two big ones.

Writing streaks: Definitely not for everyone, but for me they're really motivating and 100% the reason I was able to keep up momentum these last three months with work. I wrote every single day this year. I still can't believe that. Sure, some days it was literally 50 words at the end of the day when I was exhausted, but I also had my highest single-word count day since I started recording them this year at 12,738 on July 18th when I was writing CotC. My previous record was 94 days in a row. 364 is a huge leap. I don't know where I'm going to go with my streak from here. On one hand, it was hugely motivating. On the other, you always want to be careful to prevent burnout. For now, allowing myself to count days where I barely do anything as long as I engage with my WIP seems like a good middle ground since it keeps me motivated and connected to what I'm writing while letting me mostly take time off. I'm exploring more creative hobbies like painting in my free time, though, and as long as I've created that day I don't necessarily feel the need to write, so we'll see if I reconsider my writing streak as a "creating" streak in the future, but for now I'm just going to see how long I can go.

And the final one... my stupid goal.

I can't remember if it was at the end of last year or the start of this one when an anon pointed out how much I had written and I realized I was something like .99% of all Catradora fics on AO3, but my ridiculous goal for this year was to get my fics to 1% of the entire Catradora tag. This goal... I half reached. It takes a bit of explaining.

First, when I first set that goal, I think needed to write twenty-something more fics to reach it. Obviously, I well exceeded that goal at 34 fics, but as I was writing, so was everyone else, so the number of fics I needed to write to reach 1% increased. In the sense of my original benchmark, I definitely passed my goal.

Second, as I write this, AO3 shows there are 11,632 Catradora fics. You can consider 1% of this to be either 116 or 117 depending on rounding. I have 117 She-ra fics, but one of those is a Glimbow fic with no mention of Catradora, so that takes me to 116. However, one of those 116 is tagged as Adora & Catra because it's the CotC fic from when they're small children and meeting for the first time. I consider it a Catradora fic, but it's not actually in the tag and thus doesn't contribute to it. As such, I've fallen short at 115/117, but I really do consider this goal complete for this year given that I passed the initial milestone, the rounding makes the final number debatably 116, and I do actually have 116 "Catradora-centric" fics. That said, I'm very aware those are technicalities and I have a special celebration planned for when I actually, officially become 1% of the tag, so look out for that :) It'll be a great way to celebrate the new year. I'm hoping/planning to do it in the next week or two.

The future: I'm ending this year and starting the next trying to clean up a bunch of WIPs since my fic folder is getting a little ridiculous with the (mostly Outside of the War) one-shots I've written one scene or just a description for, which feels like a really fitting way to end off the year, accomplishing my goals and making everything neat and tidy. I have like 7~ to work though, though my actual goal is maybe 4-5 since I don't want to "force" myself to work on an idea if I'm not feeling it at the second, but I also have a longer AU calling my name, and I don't want to ignore an idea interesting me either... so we'll see, but I'm excited for everything I'm working on right now, and that feels really good. I finished last year in kind of a rough place writing/creativity wise, and I'm finishing this year really excited for everything I did and everything upcoming, so that feels pretty great :)

Thank you to everyone who read and commented this year! I know I ran out of energy to keep up with comments a lot, but they really made me smile so much and I appreciate them so much. Some days they were the difference between the motivation to write 1000 words versus 50. Thanks for another great year!

#fic rambling #ficmeta #mylife

[bestworstcase]

Hello! You've mentioned being a NanoWrimo veteran, and I was wondering if you had any advice for planning out your writing for the month? I was going to do an outline beforehand to prepare, but I'm not sure if that's authentic to the NanoWrimo spirit.

i am i’ve been doing nano most years with wildly variable success since i was fourteen. my best advice is:

start writing now.

not your actual nanowrimo project necessarily and not the 1.6k and change daily you’d need to ‘win’ but start writing every day right now. if i’m going into november from a dry spell i like to start with a daily goal of minimum 100-200 words for a week and then at the end of the week, set a new goal of a few hundred more than daily average. rinse repeat until you’re in the habit of writing a decent chunk every day. THE POINT OF THIS is to avoid hitting the “”two week wall“” which is a thing that happens because writing 1.6k+ words in a day is pretty easy but writing 1.6k+ words per day every day for a month is really hard if you don’t, you know. train for it.

you will get the most value out of nanowrimo if you think about it as a writing marathon. it’s difficult because it takes a level of endurance and discipline that you probably do not have unless you’re already a prolific daily writer.

outlining is in the spirit of nanowrimo and has always been part of the culture; some people outline extensively (‘planners’) some don’t (‘pantsers,’ as in writing by the seat of your pants), many fall somewhere in the middle. the only hard rule if you want the, like, pure nanowrimo experience as it was originally conceived is: don’t start writing the actual story until 12:01 AM on november first. you can have anything from zero plan to minutely detailed scene-by-scene notes for the entire novel locked and loaded, but on day one you open a blank document and start writing.

another thing i’d really recommend is trying to write over that 1.6k daily baseline. an extra 340 words per day for five days will net you a free day and those are nice to have in case you hit a day where you can’t write for whatever reason. it’s a lot less stressful to bank up extra words ahead of time than to miss a day or two and have to catch up.

if you don’t already have a process for turning off your inner editor, start trying to figure one out now. the temptation to delete and rewrite a paragraph dozens of times will bite you if you indulge it. try things like hiding your text so you can’t read it (set font and page to the same color, or use wingdings), try sprinting apps like write or die, stuff like that. you are trying to complete a rough draft. it’s okay for it to be rough.

lastly, use the time between now and november to figure out warm ups that work for you. these are quick, simple writing exercises separate from your wip that you do before every writing session. here are some that i like:

set a timer for five minutes and write continuously, stream of conscious, without stopping until the time’s up.

set a timer for five minutes and write a loose synopsis or ramble about the scene you plan to write: what happens, who’s in it, what subplots is it advancing, what pieces of foreshadowing or set up do you need to work in, what’s the emotional tone, etc.

pick an object in the room. spend five minutes describing it in exhaustive but simple detail. think “this cup is a tall red cylinder. it’s made of glass. there’s about a half-inch of clear glass at the bottom. the red is bright and saturated, firetruck red. it’s sitting on my desk with sunlight falling through it, casting a red shadow. there’s water in it with three ice cubes. the cup is about six inches tall.” <- you want a stream-of-conscious list of observations, basically.

use a random [name/setting/plot] generator and write 2-4 paragraphs of something stupid based on the output. just the silliest or most overwrought or edgiest grimdark or saccharine bullshit you can spew out.

take the last five hundred or so words of your last writing session. read them over. open a blank document and transcribe them word-for-word (or nearly, if you can change a word here and there without breaking stride). the idea is not to edit, but to write out a decent chunk of words quickly, without thinking much about what those words are. (i like to do another warmup and then this one and then just keep going when i hit the end of the chunk i’m transcribing.)

the idea is to preempt writer’s block by giving yourself 10-15 minutes of no thoughts head empty rapid-fire word vomit to get your brain on track and ready to go. warming up before your writing sessions will dramatically reduce the frequency of sudden creative paralysis when you sit down to write.

[fanficfanattic]

🌩️? 🌈?

🌩️

Share something funny/cracky from your WIP:

“Jamie fucking Tartt. Explain yourself!”

“Wait, what did I do?”

“I want to know how you tricked all these people?!? No one in this entire godforsaken place knows you are the world’s biggest fucking nerd!”

Season One Jamie has some friends from pre-academy schooling surprise visit. They had it cleared with Ted of course. He and the rest of the Greyhounds discover they don’t much about the real Jamie Tartt.

🌈

Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP:

The seriousness of his face, and of the moment, was wiped away with a quick grin once they could all hear the thunder of Jamie’s approaching feet and his mom’s delighted laughter. Simon’s happiness was written all over his face even as Jamie stumbled a bit with the momentum of stopping, then let Georgie down.

“Fucking, hell, Jam Jar. That might be a new record for ya!” And she shook her phone in his face. He just grabbed it to take with him as he collapsed onto the bench, barely noticing as his back brushed against Roy’s thigh.

“Don’t thinkit. Gotta do the maths, that pitch ain’t the same size as what’s at Man City.” Looking down over his shoulder, Roy could see Jamie opening up the calculator app on his own phone, still holding his mom’s with the timer screen showing.

“Okay, baby, I’ll leave it to ya.” And then she was dancing her way to where Lasso, Beard and her husband were.

“Mint, you gave’em the muffins you made, love?” He nodded as she grabbed his left hand in both of hers so she could pull herself up to smack a kiss on his mouth. On the way back to standing fully on both feet she took her sunglasses out of the pocket Ted had stashed them in, and then pulled her husband over to stand next to Jamie.

She dropped herself into his lap, not bothering to check if he’d moved the phones out of her way first. Again, eerily in sync, he had held one each to the side as she sat before bringing them back together over her legs.

“Yeah, close, but not quite as quick as your visit my last year at academy.”

“Oh, but that was before Simon, and his muffins. I probably put on ten kilos since then. Weighed you down.”

“Not even, fuck off with that. More, I’m not a teenager anymore so I shouldn’t be sprintin without a proper warm up, yeah?”

“The fucking Twilight Zone,” Roy whispered at hearing Tartt be the sensible one in a group.

I’ve shared some of this previously, it’s also a Season One Jamie fic. Ted has the First Annual AFC Richmond family day. Jamie invites his mum and stepdad to attend. And as @mitskijamie once said “It absolutely makes sense that Roy was raised by an old man and Jamie was raised by a teenage girl.” Some things make a lot more sense suddenly.

#jamie tartt #manchester childhood friends #ted lasso #jamie’s mum georgie #georgie ted lasso #jamie’s stepdad simon #jamie’s simon #simon ted lasso #roy kent #ask games #asks answered

[jamesunderwater]

20 Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜰɪᴄ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀꜱ

Thanks for tagging me!! @gracelesslady23 @annabtg @kay-elle-cee this was very sweet to get to do.

Ao3 Username: itsjamespotter

1. How many works do you have on A03?

31, wow! How wild, that feels like a lot.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

162k!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

HP

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Show and Tell (3k, wolfstar smut)

Dead To Me (91k, wip lily evans angst)

Tall Dark and Glasses (3k, jily fluff)

"you have no idea how long i've been wanting to do that" (1k, prongsfoot smut)

Bring Your Kid to Work Day(s never end when your godfather is Sirius Black) (2k, good godfather sirius black fluff)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to, or at least have the goal to, but admittedly I'm very bad at it. (not to use it as an excuse but my adhd is fully to blame.) I plan to go back and catch up on all of them soon & have a dream of being much better about it, though. I do intentionally make sure I eventually respond to the ones for my WIPs, at least.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

well, since dead to me hasn't ended yet (kidding kidding kidding kidding!!!) lmao I really thought I was gonna have a hard time finding a fic with an unhappy ending but I evidently forgot who I am. I dunno how to choose between: 1. i don't even know where you end and i begin (500 words, canon prongsfoot....you get it) 2. Promises to Keep (1k words, dorlene with canon ending....you get it)

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

Okay listen, do I technically have a fic that mentions living happily ever after in the last line? Yes. Am I choosing that fic? No. I'm choosing Happy Holidays, You Filthy Potters, because 1. smut, 2. sassy young Harry, and best of all, 3. sassy good godfather sirius black 😉

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten a couple of comments about Lily in Dead To Me but I've decided it's not my problem if people don't have critical analysis skills 💀

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! I write smut for a number of different ships and plan on doing others! Uhhh, what kind? the fact that I don't really know what that means probably means it's pretty vanilla 😆 there's a lot of going down on people 🤐

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Haha, no, but if I did I'd probably do PJO/HP

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. that would be so heartbreaking.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but that's SO cool that people offer to do that for some fics!!!

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

I have!! @charmsandtealeaves and I co-wrote a fic for a jilychallenge last year, before we were even friends! It was my first time co-writing a fic, which was very cool and different, but also didn't feel that foreign to me -- I think because I've spent a lot more years doing para RP than I have writing fics. It was fun to kind of riff off another writer in a different way. I would definitely do it again!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Okay, this is kind of tough because I only recently got into Prongsfoot, and they are the definition of soulmates... But because I ultimately see Sirius as more of an ace/aro character, Jily wins the place of favorite ship in my heart. <3

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Well, I really only have two WIPs posted on AO3: Dead To Me and Just This Once, and I have all of DTM outlined and plan to finish it by fall. Just This Once might be a while, but I also have a plan for it and would like to finish it at some point... But I guess there's a chance I won't finish it -- I do have a lot of other multi-chaps I am going to be starting soon.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hm. I like to think I'm good at getting into the minds of my characters, really thinking through their motivations and emotions and then expressing those to the reader. I also think I'm fairly good at dialogue. I really like writing banter so I hope others think I'm good at it, haha. And based on what I've been told, my smut isn't half bad 😆

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh, definitely writing descriptions of any kind. I never remember to describe the scene and when I do, I think it feels clunky. I'm not great at writing in a more direct way, either; I struggle to express a character's emotions without getting a bit flowery with it. Just generally, I think my writing could be tighter, you know? I'm sure I'll realize other things I need to work on as I write more long fics, too.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Ah, haven't done it yet, so don't have any thoughts to share.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

HP -- Jily on the Neopets forums... never 4get <3

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

If we're talking finished works, I'd have to say Tall Dark and Glasses, which I wrote for the masquerade event for Jilytober last year. To me, that fic has a certain je ne sais quois that is hard to replicate. But unfinished? Dead To Me, hands down, and once it's finished it will be very hard to ever top it. It's imperfect and there are a lot of edits I'd make if I were to go back through and polish it up, but it's the first multi chap fic I've ever written, and beyond just feeling immensely proud of that, the story itself and how I'm writing it is one of the most heartfelt and meaningful things I'll ever write in my life.

these were such a pleasure to respond to, thanks again for the tags! <3 I'm tagging: @goldenbi @abihastastybeans & @nodirectionhome-ao3

#hp #me #my writing #jily #wolfstar #prongsfoot