#would love to revisit this au again one day;; wrote a whole thing for it but never got the chance to draw them out aaough

[macchitea]

haven't drawn them in so long aaa

#rain world #kirby #rainland au #metacat #kirbpup #im on break week so i get to draw smth for myself >:) #i MISS THEMMM #comfort characters to draw <333 #would love to revisit this au again one day;; wrote a whole thing for it but never got the chance to draw them out aaough #macchiart

[runicmagitek]

2022 Writerly Year Review

tagged by @frozen-fountain (many thanks!!) not gonna tag anyone, but if you're a writer and are reading this and feel like giving this a go? Consider yourself tagged! 💖

Total number of completed works. Posted to AO3? 62 🙃 I guess it's technically 61, as What Leads You Here is still in progress, being a longfic and all.

Total number of WIPs worked on this year. Oh lord, hold please as I count all the drafts and partially done stuff in Scrivener.... 7 total. 8 if you include What Leads You Here, which fully drafted, but in the editing phase.

WIPs neglected this year. I honestly don't know djsaklfdjslkfjkldas I continue to neglect my one Celes/Terra fic I abandoned when 13 Sentinels hijacked my brain, so there's that 🙃 I promise I'll return to it one day.

Fandoms I've written in. 13 Sentinels, Critical Role, Final Fantasy (VI, VII, IX, and X), Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury, My Dress-Up Darling, and Pyre

Total word count. Uh, posted to AO3? 287,882. Written? A little over 500k

Looking back, did you write more than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you expected? MORE. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY MORE.

Did you take any writing risks this year? There were a handful of fics that I banged out in a single day, quickly edited them, and slapped them onto AO3. Are they amazing works of literature? Hell no. Were they super fun to write? Hell yeah. I need to just… relax with editing more and let myself do this more often. I swear some of my better-received fics are when I go "you know what? fuck it" and release it into the world.

Do you have any goals for the new year? Not write as much lolsob. Also finish What Leads You Here along with a handful of WIPs. Maybe even revisit that Celes/Terra WIP if I have time/energy!

Biggest disappointment? Not so much in my own writing, but just lack of engagement with some of my fics. Then again, that's par for the course when you write A) not-so-popular characters, B) gen fic, and C) stories involving death and angsty bits. Also seeing my fluffy G fics doing better than my smutty fics in the 13 Sentinels fandom just… continues to baffle me to this day. It's LITERALLY the only fandom I've ever been in where smut does worse numbers-wise and I don't get it.

Biggest surprise? I wrote something for Critical Role!! I've been a longtime watcher and enjoy the show, but I've done my best to staaaaay away from the fandom 😰 plus I tend to wait until I finish something before I ever consider writing a fic for it, just so I can have the whole picture, so to speak. But one particular episode just set me off and I had to write something to hold me over until the next episode 😭

Most popular story of the year? Most hits/bookmarks? For the Ones That Feel It the Most

Most kudos/subscriptions? Sweet Dreams (why are people subscribing to a oneshot lolsob)

Most comments? What Leads You Here

Ahhh the power of posting fics near the release of a popular thing. And also longfics lol.

What's your own favorite story of the year? I feel like this changes on a daily basis lol I love all of them for different reasons. Lucid has a close place to my heart bc I was Very Upset to find close to no m!Byleth/Gatekeeper fics in an incredibly popular/active fandom. Also really love how Like You, Only Sweeter turned out, which was an incredibly self-indulgent story for me (I just wanted them to smooch)

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion. Nearly all of my 13 Sentinels fics bc the fandom is small and niche lolsob. But also Marinate, which granted, I posted the last week of 2022, but still.

Most fun story to write. What the Water Gave Me, which very quickly snowballed out of control into its own thing. I had a blast writing this mermaid AU and thinking of lore for this world!

Most unintentionally telling story. I'm not sure if this means like… a story that utilized more telling as opposed to showing or just… telling about me as an individual. Either way, I'm genuinely not sure? A lot of aspects of myself are sprinkled across my stories, but isn't any work of art?

My favorite part of fandom this year. WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO PICK ONE?????? Meeting so many cool and incredibly talented people. Starting a Discord server with good friends. Applying (and getting accepted!) to a bunch of amazing zine projects. Participating in all the secret santa events and fic exchanges. Being late to a fandom and getting to experience things for the first time. Watching my friend react throughout their 13 Sentinels playthroughs. Collaborating with a lovely art friend to make our own damn zine. Getting to share my longfic with the small, yet vastly passionate community. And just… so so many more moments that made me smile and be forever grateful. If we've interacted at all, even for a brief moment, thank you for making 2022 a little brighter.

#runic rambles #my writing #meme thing

[heyyyharry]

Deep End - Chapter 11: Date Night

…in which Ezi’s first date gets interfered.

Word count: 2.5k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: sorry this chapter is so short. I was emotionally unstable when I wrote this last week :D I'll try to write more for the next one.

Also, please follow my writing account on Instagram: @allie.writes :) Don't forget to leave comments on this chapter!

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“Hey, do you remember Dolores?” Dawson asked.

“How could I forget?” Ezili murmured, eyeing her sister up and down.

Of course Ezi remembered Dolores. She couldn’t if she tried. Whenever she looked at Koa, all she saw was what she could never be, what her mother wished that she was, and it only made her despise herself. When she’d first arrived here, she had felt so out of place, but at the same time, free. She still revisited her old life in her sleep, which made her wake up screaming during the night. And despite all the struggles she’d gone through, she felt appreciated. Harry wasn’t anywhere near great, but he wasn’t bad. He looked out for her even though she wasn’t his kind. And she knew if her mother knew she felt this way about a human, she would not be standing here.

But why was she thinking about Harry? He wasn’t here. She snapped out of her thoughts and looked around as the vibrant atmosphere of the night market drowned out her thoughts. Her sister came forward and pulled her into a hug. She could feel Koa’s claws leaving marks on her shoulders, but she knew it was just her imagination.

Koa withdrew with a smile and lifted those perfect human hands with short blunt nails and twisted her hair into a bun. She looked so human, so natural. Ezili wondered how Koa it, but then she caught a glimpse of the trident hanging on a chain around her neck. She’d been using magic.

Immediately, Ezili grabbed Dawson’s hand and pulled him to her side. Koa tilted her head, looking quite confused, which Ezili knew was all an act. Meanwhile, Dawson was blushing. He cleared his throat. “So...Dolores is also here for the book fair. Mind if she joins us?”

“Not at all,” Ezili said with a tight smile.

“Great!” Koa said, hands clasped against her chest.

Ezili tried to figure out what her sister’s intentions were. Was she here to kill Ezili? Was she here to kill Harry? What if she thought Dawson was Ezili’s new target and was here to kill him? Also, how many humans had she killed for her to be here, dressed, act, and talk like a real human girl?

Ezili walked beside Koa as the girl went on and on about how she’d just moved to London, and all the places she’d visited and enjoyed. She must have got all this information from the magic of the trident. She couldn’t be more human than Ezili, who’d had to learn everything by herself.

“Harry?”

Ezili’s heart gave a lurch when she spotted his face in the crowd. It started with a feeling of comfort, like finding a warm bed in the middle of the raging ocean. But then a tidal wave of anxiety crashed down upon her, and she momentarily forgot about Dawson and her sister. She rushed toward him, pushing past a group of tourists and teenagers who cursed at her.

“There you are!” Harry said, spreading his arms. “My favourite fish.”

“What are you doing here?” she hissed and tugged hard at his sleeve. “Why did you follow me here?”

“I didn’t follow you here.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not,” Harry sighed and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he looked around. “Where’s Dawson anyway? Why are you standing here all by yourself?”

Ezili had no time for his questions. “Harry, go home.”

“I’m here to buy books!”

“Oh, yeah? What books?”

“This one,” he said, grabbing a random book from a display shelf they were in front of.

“The Sex Life of Pets?”

“Oh.” His smile dropped as he read the title. “I mean, it does look kinda interesting.”

“Harry, go home. I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are. Dawson left you here all by yourself.”

“He’s taking care of something,” Ezili said anxiously as she put her arms around herself and rubbed. The air was getting cold. She hadn’t had to feel the cold when she’d been a siren. She hated how weak humans were. A slight change of the weather could get them all messed up.

She was about to tell Harry to go home right now because her sister was here, and Dawson might be in danger. Ezili’s job here was to kill one of these men, not save them every single time. But to her surprise, Harry took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. “Come home with me,” he said, gently. “If you stay here, you might get lost among all these tourists.”

“No, you go home,” she said, pushing his shoulder, but he didn’t budge. “It’s not safe here for you.”

“How?” he chuckled. “I know London like the back of my hand.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Ezili, you’re acting stran—” Harry was about to finish his sentence when his smile vanished. He pointed over Ezili’s shoulder. “Is that Dawson talking to your sister?”

Ezili whirled around, relieved to find Dawson still alive, but the grin her sister gave her while Dawson was talking to a seller made her uneasy.

“Harry, go home,” she snapped at Harry, shoved him hard so he stumbled back. If something happened, she could only save one of them, and she knew for a fact it would be Harry.

“I’m not going home and leaving you here—”

“And I won’t save you if my sister does something again. I’ll save Dawson, and you don’t want to die, do you?”

At first, she thought those words were all harmless, until she saw the way Harry’s smile dropped, and his shoulders slumped. He said nothing, only nodded. Koa and Dawson were heading towards them now. It was too risky to have Harry here.

“Go!” she shouted and pushed him hard. He didn’t joke about it or react, just held her gaze for a moment and walked away.

“Is that Harry? Harry!”

“He’s leaving, Dawson,” Ezili said and turned to her sister. “Could you come with me to the restroom?”

“Yeah, sure!” Koa happily said, then waved at a puzzled Dawson as she got dragged away.

“What are you trying to do?” Ezili asked in Séren when they were far enough from Dawson, but not too far; she still needed to keep an eye on him just in case.

“Nothing,” Koa answered in their mother tongue. “Although Pretty Boy over there looks quite delicious.”

“Stop it!” Ezili snapped. “You’ve been breaking so many rules around here. You’re not allowed to use the magic of the trident for personal gains.”

“Mother entrusted me with it,” Koa mused.

“I’m sure she’d be happy to know what you’d used it for,” Ezili said, disgusted.

Koa’s dark pink lips curled to the side. “You’re jealous,” she said, leaning back, arms crossed.

Ezili had no time for this. “Please go home,” she told her sister. “I have things under control here. I’ll return in a year with the heart.”

“But you don’t have a whole year,” Koa said. “One year could be a lifetime for these creatures. Humans are fickle. They can stay married for twenty years and still can’t love each other.”

Ezili scoffed, eyebrows raised. “Does the trident tell you that?”

“No, Dolores did,” Koa said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger innocently as if she weren’t talking about someone she’d murdered for no reason. “She hated her husband,” she went on. “I heard her talking on the phone with someone about how she had never loved him, and they had two grown children together. Can you believe it? These creatures made up the thing called ‘marriage’ - a lifetime commitment, which they could not keep up with themselves. And as much as your pretty head wants to see the good in these filthy creatures. They are far from good. Not only do they harm other living things, they also harm their own kind. Physically and emotionally.” Koa put her hand on Ezili’s shoulder and squeezed. “That boy you’re so attached to is no different, Ezili. He will never love you.”

Ezili bit her lip and brushed her sister’s hand off of her. “Don’t tell me about humans when I’ve been here for longer than you do.”

“And yet,” Koa said, “you’re still here.”

Ezili wanted to tell Koa she was wrong for doubting Ezili, but Koa wasn’t wrong. Recently, Ezili had been doubting herself, too. She had even considered switching her target from Harry to Dawson, but she could not feel the same connection she’d had with Harry.

“I have an offer for you, Ezili,” Koa’s voice dragged her out of her own thoughts. She blinked at her sister. “Before your birthday, which was supposed to be your coronation day, you may come back to the Queendom. You’ll tell Mother that you cannot accomplish the mission and ask her to make me Queen of the Seven Seas. Then we’ll have a new Queen as planned. Our evil aunt can’t plot against the throne. And when I’m Queen, I’ll make sure you won’t be banished. You’ll get to keep your title as a princess and stay in the castle.”

Ezili hated that she wasted a second to actually consider the offer. “No. I won’t do it,” she spat, stepping back. “If I accepted this offer, no one and nothing in the ocean world would take me seriously. I would become an outcast anyway.”

Koa rolled her eyes and laughed heartily. “At least you’ll still be protected by the army and you’ll have a family. Or would you rather join the mermaids collecting gold all day for your sad little collection? Also, I’m sure the white sharks would love an abandoned siren.”

“I’m going to be Queen,” Ezili said through clenched teeth. “I’m bringing Mother the heart no matter what. Now you go home and tell her just that. And be careful with my trident that you wore around your little breakable neck.”

Koa opened her mouth to speak, but Ezili didn’t give her a chance. She put up a hand and shouted, “Dawson, let’s go! Dolores is just about to leave.”

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Ezili didn’t know what time she arrived home. She tried not to think about her sister’s words, which had clearly been for the purpose of making her doubt herself. She still hoped Dawson had had a great time tonight. They’d bought some books after she’d got rid of Koa, then stopped at a restaurant on the way back to Harry’s mansion. She’d apologised when he’d dropped her off for not being quite herself tonight, and she hated how he’d cheerfully said, “It was nothing. No worries.” Why did humans lie about how they felt all the time? If something bothered you or made you uncomfortable, why not just say it? Why did they feel the need to complicate things? It was hard enough for her to understand human emotions, and they expected her to be able to guess?

“Hey,” Harry said when their eyes met and she froze in the doorway. She’d expected him to be sleeping right now. “You look clean. Guess your sister didn’t kill Dawson?”

Ezili narrowed her eyes at him and kicked off her shoes. “No. Nothing bad happened.”

“Oh, man. I was hoping he was dead.”

“Shut up,” she said. “Also, I don’t think my sister will ever bother us again.” That, she wasn’t sure. She just wanted to be reassured even if it was by her own words.

Harry got up, hands slipped into his pockets. “Sooo...how was your date?”

Ezili pretended she hadn’t heard that question. “Why are you still up?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Had too much coffee earlier.” Then repeated, “How was your date?”

“It was fine,” Ezili said. "Why did you show up?"

"I was just making sure you wouldn't cause any trouble? Your name is tied to mine now, in case you've forgotten."

"How can I? You literally remind me of our fake relationship every two seconds."

“Why are you so pissed off?”

“I’m not.”

“You clearly are,” he persisted.

She let out a sigh, about to just go upstairs and ignore him for the rest of the night, but this one question kept tugging at her. So she had to ask.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Harry looked confused for a second. “No. Never. I think I’ve told you about what happened with my exes.”

“But did you love them at one point?”

“Well, I thought I loved them,” he said. “But looking back now, I don’t think I know what love is. It’s just...a lot of times, I want to be alone. Just me and Chilli. If someone enters my life and stays around for too long, it makes me uncomfortable.”

“But I’m also living here. We see each other all the time.”

“It’s not like I have a choice to kick you out,” he said, then instantly looked regretful.

Ezili padded across the room and stopped in front of him. “Why would anybody want to be alone?” She knew she didn’t. She was doing all this just to be accepted by her kind, but he, who had everything from fame and wealth to a supportive family, wanted to be left alone?

“You’re not the first girl to ask me that,” he said with a grin. “I think it has a lot to do with how I was brought up. I feel like everyone has these certain expectations for me, and when I don’t meet those expectations, I disappoint them. I just want to be by myself so I can just be me. I don’t want to adjust myself to the presence of others.”

Ezili nodded then moved a bit closer.

“What are you--”

She surprised him by placing her palm on the left side of his chest. Her skin tingled with the sensation of his little unsteady heartbeats when she came near. “But there’s nothing here,” she mumbled as if it would make sense to him. “You were telling the truth.”

“What do you mean?” Harry let out a nervous laugh and reached for her hand, which she withdrew before he could touch.

“Nothing.”

Harry’s smile faded. “Did Dawson say anything about me?”

“No. We hardly talked about you.”

“What about your sister? Why is she here?” he kept asking when she brushed past him and headed for the stairs. “Does your mother want you back? Ezi, what happened tonight?”

“Nothing,” she lied. “I’m just tired. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Ezi,” he said, his voice soft and pleading as if he could love her for a moment. But how could he? How could a man, who had lived his whole life without falling in love and prided himself on his loneliness, ever fall in love with a siren? He’d said he’d wanted to kiss her again, but there he’d stood in front of her and claimed her presence in this house made him uncomfortable. Then when her hand had been on his heart, she had felt nothing.

So had he lied about it? Humans lied about how they felt all the time. If they could lie about wanting to spend the rest of their life with one person, they could lie about wanting to kiss a siren.

Maybe, just maybe, Ezili should consider her sister’s offer.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles x mc #harry styles smut #harry styles series

[lydias--stiles]

spill your soul on paper (keep it a secret)

to all the boys i’ve loved before au | juke | unfinished

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 

“Molina!”

Flynn and her stopped short in their pathetic jog, frowning at the sudden exclaim. No one called her that, except-

Luke Patterson. What did he want? For the last years, he more or less steered clear of her because of the whole Carrie thing, which was stupid, but she hadn't been, like, mad about it. So what did Luke have to say to her right now, during gym of all places?

And then her eyes fell on his hand gripping the familiar blue paper. Her heart froze. Oh, fuck.

She finally processed his expression: confused, upset, maybe even a little angry. Gah! How did her songs - nay: love songs get out?! They were in her dreambox and never left!

“Hey Flynn,” he continued, unaware of Julie's inner meltdown. “Can I speak to Julie alone for a sec?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Depends. What're you gonna talk about?”

His face morphed into one of those charming ‘I can fool any teacher’-smiles. “About what an amazing DJ you are, obviously.”

Julie shot Flynn a desperate look and fervently shook her head. Don't go, don't go, don't go! She was going to die of humiliation if she did! Alas, Flynn shrugged, meaning that whatever he had to say was most likely harmless. Physically, yes. Emotionally? Total collateral damage.

“Well played, Patterson,” she teased. “Break my friend and I break you!” The latter was added cheerily as she fastened her steps, catching up to Kayla a quarter lap in front of them.

Julie found a moment to smile; at least she had a best friend like Flynn to keep her from being whisked away in the tides of high school drama… like now.

“So,” he said, noticing Julie kept her jog going and followed suit, the chains on his jeans jiggling as he did. “Any reason why you sent me a love song from when you were twelve?”

“I didn't,” Julie quipped, cringing at her own reply. She was a terrible liar. 

Luke blinked at her for a beat, looking even more like a confused puppy look than before. Which she used to find cute - ugh.

“Okay, uh, I'm flattered,” he stumbled, “like the song's cute and all, but I'm not interested.”

Withholding a retort that her tween songs could spin around his punk-rock gimmick any time with grace, she grimaced. “Well, yeah, me neither. That's not- it’s not real. Like I just wrote whatever.”

Something about that must’ve been amusing to him, as his smile became mischievous. “My ‘wide, green eyes’ that resemble the ‘meadow of your dreams’ is whatever? Julie,” he gasped, as if he were actually affronted. “I'm hurt.”

She rolled her eyes. Time to stop the embarrassment. “Just give it back.”

His cocky behaviour mellowed, seemingly also done milking out the non-existent drama, and finally matched her jog to give it back.

But then she crossed eyes with a speedwalking Nick coming closer and closer to the field... with blue paper clenched in his hand. If she didn’t look mortified before, she did now.

“Wow,” Luke puffed. “You okay? Looks like you've seen a ghost.”

She didn't hear him, shaking her head at the approaching boy. “No... No, no, no, no, no!”

“Uh…”

How did they get out?! All her life, these love songs have been her safe space, the sole outlet for whenever her feelings, her intense emotions, became too much. Without shame, ink would spill on the pages. Her heart got poured out and then, in the end, it was safe again. No boy could get to her, as there was nothing to come and get in the first place. It was hidden between the pages, for her - and only her - to revisit. And now they had it. 

Oh, no. Nausea coiled in her stomach. If Luke got one and Nick too, then the others...

And then it hit her. Nick. Her best friend. A love letter. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! She was not emotionally prepared to lose a friend today!

Everything went really quickly after that. So quick, that she hardly registered it herself. In the moment, it was a really simple plan for her brain. Make Nick think she wasn't interested in him, stay friends and all would be well. The only variable in the action was the confused boy right next to her. Damn, spontaneity was never her strong suit. 

One second later, Julie threw her hands around his neck, pulled Luke Patterson down to her level, and kissed him full on the lips. She hoped he tasted the apology on her mouth.

Luke hardly had time to react, completely dumbfounded, when she gently pushed him back and shot a glance at Nick. He was frozen, face shadowed by the looming trees and jaw slack.

“Damn, Molina,” Luke puffed. “If you wanted another round of spin the bottle you could've just asked.”

Unresponsive - too rattled that she just kissed him, that her most precious belongings were out - Julie sprinted away. Luke and Nick called after her, one more amused than the other, but she didn't look back. Feet pounded the ground until her heavy breathing tried regulating itself in the girls bathroom. 

What the fuck was happening? How did any of this happen? And did she really just kiss Luke freaking Patterson again? Gah! His ego would never calm down after this.

She could really use her mom right now. Then again, Rose Molina had been a certified bad ass. She'd probably tell her to keep her chin up and own it. ‘It's your feelings, mija. So what?’

But Julie wasn't Rose. She wasn't fearless. 

Her hands clamped against one of the sinks, eyes trained on the dirty tiles and scratched up mirrors. The cool air did her well. In, out, in, out. In-

In walked Alex Mercer. Awesome. Why not? Not like her day could get any worse.  

He cringed. “Is this a bad time? Cause-”

“Yeah,” she breathed, noting the distinct papers in his hand. “Love song. I know.” The blonde paused, unsure how to continue, and Julie had the opportunity to once more feel like an utter fool for ever thinking Alex was straight. Sue her! The boy had been very kind to her during the eighth grade formal and back then, Willie Reed didn’t go to their school yet. Her breath hitched. Was he offended? Hurt?

Whirling around, she exclaimed: “I know you’re gay! I just- I didn’t know… then…”

An awkward laugh erupted from his throat, slowly nodding. “Yeah… I, uh, I figured.” Another worried pause. “Are you okay?”

They weren’t friends, not in the slightest, but she really needed someone right now. “No,” she shuddered. “Those- the songs are private. They’re mine and they somehow got out. I don’t know how.”

Before he could reply, she quickly added: “Don’t tell anyone about this!”

His arms raised in defence. “No worries, Julie. I won’t. And I’m sorry they got out. I’ll make sure Luke doesn’t blab his mouth off.”

Julie froze. Shit. “He told you?”

The awkward expression turned amused. Right. Her eyes shut, wondering why she somehow forgot Luke Patterson and Alexander Mercer had been attached at the hip since kindergarten. God, she was a fool. 

“If it helps,” he commented lightly, “he was flattered.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

moodboards i made cause!! visuals!! yay!!

@blush-and-books​ @willexx​ @bluefirewrites​ @ourstarscollided​ @unsaid-emily​ @unsaidjulie​ @pink-flame​ @constantly-singing​

#istg this is the last thing i post today #jatp: tatbilb #juke #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction

[gwendeeagain]

How I wrote the Demon fic

Don't draw devil's traps in janitors' closets is one of my longest fic series I’ve ever written, the most notable of which would be my Demon Gakushuu fic, if you’ve seen it. 

In partial response to an ask post (link here), I’ve decided to revisit my writing of this fic series! It was quite a long journey for me and I think it might be fun (?) sharing it with everyone. It’s rather long, so I’ll tag it under “keep reading”. 

FYI this thread contains major spoilers for the fic (and would honestly make no sense if you do not have prior knowledge of it).

I'll just refer to the first fic in the series as Books because it has an insanely long title. Subsequent fics are in order Burgundy, Potential, Illuminate, Illuminate rewrite, and Addendum. The main series is linked here.

Addendum is not linked in the main series for reasons I'll explain below. (link here)

Books

I think one of my biggest mistakes writing Books is my lack of plot planning, and subsequently how thematically inconsistent it became. I start off most my fics with a rough idea of how I want the story to end, and a few good themes to carry me through the plot as I write, but for Books I started off with the first chapter and nothing else. If you followed the notes of my fic you'd probably have witnessed my gradual descent into uncertainty and despair as the fic spiralled out of my control due to how wrong I felt it was becoming.

The fic took a surprisingly hard toll on me. I absolutely hated it. I refused to mark it as complete because I was dissatisfied with how it ended. I thought that everyone was out of character, that I lost the original ending and goal in my head, that it was thematically messy such that I couldn't justify any ending I tried to come up with, and I was just grasping at straws trying to make it work. 

The three things that bothered me were Gakushuu’s wings, Koro-Sensei and the introduction of Aina. When I started this fic I had plans to kill off Koro-Sensei at the end, however as the fic went on it became a celebration of life and learning how to live, and I knew I couldn’t bring myself to have any death in this fic... but at the same time I had Gakushuu find a lot of meaning in Koro-Sensei’s (to-be) death and I didn’t want to undo that. The wings were on a similar note, because Gakushuu spend 50k words finding out who he is and accepting that he was different. Turning that message around and making him go back to being “the same” ate me up inside, but at the same time I set-up the Demon Society in such a way that they would kill Gakushuu if he didn’t have his wings, and it’s supposed to be a happy ending, dammit! Aina was a particularly egregious case because I threw her (and Ikeda) in without any prior warning at the very last minute. I already had a whole world and setting planned for them which I never got to expand on in the previous chapters because I was so anxious about the other two points, and when it came down to the last chapter I realized I had no set-up for these two, who were supposed to be major players in the finale. Basically I was bad at writing.

Even now I cannot fully articulate why it was terrible for me, but compounded with my real-life stressors, I suppose it just became a bit too much to deal with. (This is a piece of fiction that I am creating from scratch. If I can't even get this under control, what hope do I have for everything else?)

((For come disclosure I was never formally diagnosed with any mental illness, but my parents are the sort of people who don’t believe mental illness exists anyways. I would say that I’ve had depressive episodes when I was younger and sometimes even now, but I’ve learnt my ways of dealing with them!))

Burgundy

Four days later I published Burgundy, a short sequel to Books, very shortly after only because I had already finished writing by that time. I actually do still have several half-finished follow ups at that point, but I couldn't bring myself to complete any sequels because I couldn't even come to terms with the ending of the main story. (Those wips are lost to me now.) I think I was hoping that forcing myself to publish the sequel would show me that it was "no big deal" that the main fic didn't end the way I hoped it would, but it succeeded in making me feel worse.

Potential

About one month after that I wrote Potential. It was a three parter, somehow a fifth of the length of the main fic, that followed Gakuhou's perspective prior to the events of Books. It was a prequel which imo made it easier to write, because I still couldn't move on from Books yet. I think writing Potential was me trying to remind myself why I wrote Books in the first place, to perhaps reignite my original passion for the series. It's kind of funny to think about in hindsight, and a little meta, because Potential was a lead up to the events in Books. It worked... a little bit, I think. I still couldn't reconcile my feelings for the whole thing, but through it I got to revisit the original premise that I fell in love with and expand more on worldbuilding it. I could reprise Aina and Ikeda and finally write about the world I planned to introduce them in in the first fic and give more context and insights to how the demon society was supposed to work.

Illuminate

Six months after Potential, I ran into a comment that said, "what would Gakuhou have done if Gakushuu had died?" And for some reason it struck an epiphany in me. After that I wrote Illuminate in one night, cried myself to sleep, waited one more night to proofread it, and then published it. Illuminate was an AU to the first three fics in the series, and it was a fic about grief and mourning. Spoiler alert: I straight up killed Gakushuu in that fic. And somehow that was what I needed.

I quite literally killed my first fic - I upended the terrible ending I hated from Books - everything I had been uncertain about at first? I killed it. Plot points didn't fit my original plans? Killed it. (When I reread the death scene, I... honestly think I was unnecessarily cruel. I must have really been out of my mind when I wrote it, hah!)

And then I wrote myself a love story about missing it, grieving it, and finally letting go of it. It was heart wrenching for me - I made Gakuhou cry about what he lost, what could have been, what he realized he loved, and at the end of it all he could say "I love you and I can move on from you." And I did!

Illuminate (Rewrite)

Illuminate Rewrite, one year later, was me revisiting Illuminate to reflect on myself where I've come with this series. I actually just swapped the places of two paragraphs to change the mood at the end for something more contemplative. I elaborated a bit more on this in my notes for Rewrite, so I won't repeat them here.

Honestly, I still have a hard time coming back to reread Illuminate even after the whole debacle has happened. I attached a lot of emotions through my journey with this, and revisiting it each time takes quite a bit out of me.

Addendum

Addendum was just me having fun! After Illuminate, I managed to reconcile my feelings with the fic series. I was finally able to mark Books as complete and move on from it, and afterwards I wrote a fun little au sequel to Illuminate so that Gakushuu can live again. I could creatively expand on ideas and just do... whatever! It's more of a loose connection of plot points than a real fic, honestly.

Addendum follows Gakushuu in a future hundreds of years later, after every human who he's once known in Books has died. And... he moves on! Gets a job, makes friends, lives his life, and most importantly move on.

I chose to publish in a separate collection, however, because it was an incomplete story and I didn’t want to have a half-complete fic tacked on to what I have settled in my heart as a complete fic collection.

And that’s about it! <3

#karushuu #gakushuu asano #gwentriestothink

[marshmallow-phd]

Nine Little Letters

Genre: College AU, Fake Dating AU, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before AU

Inspired By: This graphic made by @rcse-tvler​

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: Just when you thought life was done shoving you down, it got much, much worse. After finding out that your latest crush was already in a relationship, you did what you always did when emotions ran high: you wrote a letter. Signed and sealed, you put it away with the eight other letters you’d written to past one-sided loves, never to be seen again. That is, until a mix up accidentally sends those letters out to their respective recipients and you find yourself in the middle of one confusing web of love. With fake relationships, insecurities, and revelations swirling around, things are bound to get a little messy.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11

The second letter you ever wrote was perhaps the most embarrassing of them all.

During the summer of your thirteenth year, Baekhyun had gone away to a summer camp that had lasted for over a month. Bored to tears due to the missing antics, you spent more time with your other friend, Yeonhee, though - as much as you loved her - her presence didn’t have the same level of comfort as Baekhyun’s did. You weren’t sure what the reason was, but there always seemed to be this invisible barrier between you and Yeonhee. You couldn’t get quite as close to her. There was so much relief the day that Baekhyun came back. But something else was there, too. Something that had been growing throughout the absence.

At first, you thought your heart was beating fast because you ran to the park where Baekhyun told you to meet him. You were excited - elated - to have your best friend back. When you saw him lying on the teeter-totter, you stopped. His skin was sun-kissed, hair a bit longer and tousled. You’d never realized how… handsome he was before. Your face was smiling before you knew it.

You liked him. That had to explain why you missed him so much, right? As soon as Baekhyun saw that you’d arrived, he lit up, jumping off the playground equipment and running towards you. He pulled you into a quick hug then stepped back, ruffling your hair.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Come on.” He grabbed your hand and started pulling you away from the teeter-tatter. “Let’s go down to the creek!”

You followed him without hesitation, loving the feeling of his hand in yours. Later that night, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep because of this new information. At thirteen, you were a bit smarter than you were at ten, so you decided to put some feelers out. You would see if there was any chance that he felt the same way. The two of you were close, after all. The chance had to be there, didn’t it?

The answer was no. And you received that answer almost immediately. The next day Baekhyun went on and on about this girl he had met at camp. He talked about how funny she was and cute and playful. And beautiful. He wouldn’t stop talking about how pretty he found her. She was at a summer camp, for Pete’s sake, but somehow still managed to be soft and delicate and everything Baekhyun liked in girls. It felt like an uppercut punch to the jaw. You could be soft and delicate. You wore skirts and boots and cardigans. Your room was pastel colors! What was the difference between you and this girl he rambled on about?

Flashing back to Jongin and how much better you felt after writing him the letter, you sat down at the table while your parents were away at work and tried to see if it had the same effect.

 Dear Baekhyun,

How are you? I guess that’s an awkward thing to ask given how I always know how you are. You always tell me, whether you’re happy or sad or simply indifferent. You tell me everything. And I’ve always loved that, the fact that we could tell each other whatever we’re thinking. But lately, you’ve been telling me too much and I’ve been keeping quiet. You tell me so much about this girl you met at camp and how much you like her and what the two of you talked about on the phone last night and how you’ve made plans to meet up next week. You go on and on about her without seeing the hurt in my eyes. I stay silent because of that hurt. Because while you were away, I realized something. I realized that I like you. As more than just my best friend. I find myself wishing that you were talking about me that way. What does this girl have that I don’t, anyway? She sounds a lot like me. I even wondered at one point if you were secretly talking about me until you mentioned meeting up with her. You seem so happy, though. So, I wonder, should I say anything or should I just go on being just your friend? I guess I'll make the decision at the end of this letter. If I send it out or if I keep it hidden in my drawer. Do I come out and say it or do I risk forever thinking “What if?” Only time will really tell. Either way, I hope you’re happy. That’s most important.

Love,

(y/n)

 In the end, you decided not to mail it. Though you never met the girl from summer camp, Baekhyun ended up “dating” her for the fall semester of school - if it could be counted since they lived in different cities. He always went to see her, but she never made the same effort. That was why they broke up, according to Baekhyun. Though he never came to see you in the same light as far as you were aware, you found that you were able to move on, to see him once again simply as your friend. Perhaps the two of you were soulmates in the platonic way. You were thankful to your past self for not mailing out that letter. Where would your friendship be if you had sent it? Would there even still be a friendship?

“Okay, I know you’re not a professional or anything, but you’re even worse today. What’s going on?”

You blinked, coming out of your head just in time to watch your character crumple to the ground, dead. Great.

You weren’t the best at video games, but you found them fun and Sehun didn’t mind if you weren’t as good as him. He definitely carried the two of you in the team rounds.

“Nothing, I just have a lot on my mind.” Both the truth and a lie. You were mildly distracted at the moment. It was a small amount of connected things. Seeing Junmyeon with a girlfriend had conjured up some old insecurities. While you were fairly sure that you were over him, you were circling around your lack of love life - and lack of dating history. As in zero. Zip. A big old goose egg. Of course, when that happened, you tended to retreat into your books and movies. Which rom-coms you were going to binge tonight was currently at the forefront of your mind, held up by everything else.

“So, obviously, it’s not nothing,” Sehun pointed out over the headset. Touché.

“Okay, it’s not nothing, but it's not something you’d be interested in anyway.”

“Try me.”

You paused. “I was thinking about how I’ve never had a boyfriend, so I was going to watch romantic comedies tonight.”

Silence.

Well, not total silence since the video game was still on in the background, but there was no response from your partner. “Sehun?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m not that interested. But I also don’t see how watching movies about romance is a direct response to not having a boyfriend.”

You sighed as your character re-spawned and you continued with the game, covering Sehun from any surprise attacks as you inched closer to enemy territory. “They make me feel better.”

He took a pause to kill an enemy soldier before replying, “I still don’t get it. How can watching fake couples get together make you feel better? If you want a boyfriend, why don’t you go out and get one? It’s not like there isn’t a whole campus full of single guys.”

You scoffed. Yeah, right. Like it was that simple. There wasn’t a store or a catalogue that you could flip through and go “Oh, I’d like that one!” and have a boyfriend ready and raring to go. Although… someone should get on that revolutionary idea. It could be worth millions.

Part of you wanted to respond with “Fine, do you want to date me?” but you bit your tongue, knowing that you didn’t mean it. There had once been a time that you had thought about Sehun in that way. The two of you rarely saw each other in person. For a good year and a half, the two of you had been simple online buddies until you realized you lived in the same city. You’d invited Sehun along to outings with Baekhyun and Yeonhee, but they didn’t click very well, so it didn’t happen too often. After the first time you met Sehun, you thought he was cute. Que the letter.

 Dear Sehun.

I know you try to hide it, but you’re actually very sweet. And I know that you let me win sometimes. And you help me every chance you get. I like you because of that. Also, I never thought you would be cute. Is that bad? Do you think you could like me back? We could be that gamer couple. Those who play together, stay together, right?

Love,

(y/n).

 It was the cringiest of all your letters. Short, uninteresting, bland. After you wrote it, you realized quickly that those were the only reasons you liked him: his face and he was nice to you. Were your standards really that low? His letter always stayed at the bottom of the pile, hardly ever revisited. That was when you realized it was hard to truly like someone you didn’t know all that well. You still considered him a friend and could confide in him, but he didn’t make your comfortable triangle a square.

“Hey, (y/n)!” Baekhyun burst into your room with no warning. You jumped, letting out a rare curse into the headset.

“Baekhyun, what are you doing here?” On Saturdays he was usually busy giving piano lessons.

“And on that note, I’m out.” Sehun clicked off without a real goodbye. You shook your head. Boys.

You turned off your console and swiveled around in your chair. Baekhyun was seated at your vanity which made you nervous. He knew better than to go peeking into your things, but that hardly stopped him. And while he was aware of the letters’ existence, he was neither aware of his own nor where they were located.

“My pupil for the day canceled on me. They’re sick. I was bored so I came over. As per usual.” Looking over his shoulder at your mirror, he plucked off one of the pictures you had wedged into the frame. “Heard from your long-distance boyfriend lately?”

“Hardy, har-har.” You snatched the picture from him and replaced it. “He’s not my boyfriend and you know it.”

Zhang Yixing was your pen pal from high school. After seeing a flyer on one of the bulletin boards in the hallway, you jumped at the chance to communicate with someone from another country without really thinking about it. The partners were all chosen at random and you considered yourself quite lucky. The person you exchanged letters with was sweet and funny and really read what you wrote to him, always replying to your words before going into his own story. While life got in the way and the two of you weren’t able to exchange letters at the frequency you once had, you still received a surprise every so often.

And yes, before anyone asks, he was one of the nine. One look at his dimpled smile and charming eyes and anyone would be hooked. You’d giggled like crazy when you opened the letter junior year and his photo fell out. He’d wanted to show you the countryside school he’d volunteered at and the kids he’d helped. As cute as those children were, he was all you could look at. So, naturally, there was one letter you never sent. It didn’t make sense to send it. He was in an entirely different country. So, you used his letter as camouflage, keeping it on top at all times to hide the others underneath.

“And no, by the way. I haven’t gotten a letter for a little bit.”

“Too busy volunteering?” Baekhyun quipped.

“You could take a page out of his book, you know.”

“I do give back! I give free lessons all the time!”

Okay… that was true. Baekhyun did have a soft heart for kids that wanted to learn to play the piano but whose parents couldn't afford to pay for lessons. About twice a month on Sundays, he went to a local church and taught a class for anyone who wanted to join. It was actually kind of sweet. You’d gone a few times and he could be pretty adorable with the kids.

“Alright,” you said. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” Baekhyun pursed his lips and tapped a finger against his chin. His eyes slowly made their way around your room. He would smile when his eyes landed on pictures of the two of you or little souvenirs from your various adventures. Your room was like a scrapbook for the world to view. You enjoyed being surrounded by memories, like reading a book based on your life. “I’m kind of hungry.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “For what?”

He turned away from you, mostly still listening, but obviously distracted by something. “Let’s go to a grill.”

That suggestion sent sparks off in your brain. Your stomach, which had been neutral up until now, was roaring for the sizzling meat and spicy side dishes. In fact, you’d been distracted at the thought of a Korean grill that you didn’t notice Baekhyun’s hand twitching on the forbidden drawer. Before your brain could process what he was doing, the drawer was open. Baekhyun pulled the entire stack of letters out.

“Wow, you actually do keep all of these!”

“What the hell are you doing!” You bounced on him, tackling him down to the floor as you wrestled the envelopes from him. Once you finally pulled them free, you smacked his arm with the stack. “You jerk! You know those are private!”

He actually had the audacity to pout. “I just wanted to see!”

“They’re not for you to see!”

“Come on, (y/n),” Baekhyun sat up when you moved off him. You kept the envelopes close to your chest in case he tried for them again. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“Don’t you dare try to guilt trip me,” you snapped. “I have a right to my privacy. These aren’t meant for anyone else but me.”

“Fine.” He threw his hands up in defeat. “But you might want to find a better hiding spot. Let’s go eat.” He left your room, smiling to himself.

Grumbling to yourself, you placed the envelopes on your vanity. Later, you would find a better place to put them. For now, though, you draped a shirt over the stack so they were mostly covered.

You forgot about the letters for the most part by the time the two of you made it to the restaurant. Baekhyun had his moments where he didn’t think things through or he acted purely on impulse, but you could forgive those happenings. At least, when he was paying for dinner. On the way to the grill, you called Yeonhee to join.

“So, there’s this girl in my World Music three-oh-four class,” Baekhyun said right after shoving a stuffed sesame leaf into his mouth. “She’s really cute. And plays the cello. Her fingers are so nimble and small.”

“So, you going to ask her out?” you teased.

Baekhyun took some time to chew his food before answering. “Yeah. Actually, I think I might.”

“Does she seem interested in you?” Yeonhee asked. She was always the more practical one out of the three of you. She saw things in black and white. She either chose door number one or door number two. It was a philosophy she used in every aspect of her life. That realism rounded your little triangle out. Baekhyun was the carefree, never-knew-what-he-was-going-to-do-next type, you were the slightly anxiety-ridden, romantic daydreamer, and Yeonhee was the down-to-earth, rational one.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay. Then do it.” Yeonhee pulled her long, dark brown hair back into a scrunchy to keep it out of her face. To her, that was the end of it.

Baekhyun sent you a look, but he shrugged. “Alright. I’ll see her on Monday, so I’ll ask her to coffee then.”

Your phone vibrated against the table. Normally you would have ignored it, but given the lull in conversation, you checked to see the notification. It was a text from your mom.

I’m doing laundry. It looks like you have a full hamper. Do you want me to take some?

You smiled. You loved getting out of laundry. Yeah! Thank you!

Okay! A second text came through. Do you want me to take this shirt on the vanity, too?

Shirt? What- Panic swept through you. No! That’s okay! It’s clean.

Okay! Love you!

Love you, too!

Phew. That was close.

The rest of dinner was spent talking about classes and professors and new movies coming out. The three of you bounced from subject to subject, spending a good hour and half at the table slowly devouring the different meat courses. Multiple groups came and went while you sat there and enjoyed this time with your two best friends. When it was time to go home, Yeonhee volunteered to take you home since it was more on her way than Baekhyun’s. Once there, she parked in your driveway. Rounding the car, you bent down to tell her goodnight. A second or two later, Kyungsoo pulled into his parents’ driveway. He got out of his own car, eyes down on his phone. Noticing the two of you next door, he froze. There was an awkward tension as the exes made eye contact while you stood there like an unneeded third wheel on a bike. Finally, Kyungsoo broke the contact and went inside.

“Have you talked to him lately?” you asked.

Yeonhee shook her head. “Not at all. What’s the point? I ended it. Going back and opening the wound makes no sense.”

“Yeah, that’s understandable. I’ll, um, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

You straightened up and headed inside.

Yeonhee and Kyungsoo were a tragic story, at least in your eyes.

Kyungsoo was your next-door neighbor for your entire life though the two of you didn’t interact very often. He ran in different circles and seemed annoyed by Baekhyun most of the time - a pattern you were not blind to. But Yeonhee always took the time to talk to him if you happened to be in the front yard and crossed paths. Oblivious to what was going on while they conversed, you stood by, studying your neighbor.

He was handsome and sweet when he wasn’t frowning. In fact, his smile was quite stunning. And he was smart and, though rare, cracked jokes that had you in stitches. You found yourself admiring him. Imagine your shock when you discovered that he was dating one of your best friends. You were devastated. The strength of the feeling took you by surprise. But you’d managed to keep it together in front of both of them. Only when you were alone were you finally able to let it out. That night you’d locked yourself in your room, tears flowing in an unending stream. At some point, you were sitting down at your vanity, pencil flying across the page without you having to think it through.

 Dear Kyungsoo,

What am I even feeling right now? How am I feeling like this? You were always just my neighbor, the boy next door. Occasionally kind, helpful. I never even suspected that you liked Yeonhee or that she liked you back. I was completely left out, blind to what was happening in front of me. Mostly because I couldn’t see past myself. You were nothing like how I’d thought in our younger years. You are so much more. Amazing feels like too simple a word but that’s all I can conjure up. I’ve been so in awe that I couldn't completely understand what it was that I was feeling inside. But now… I feel like my heart has shattered. I had come to look forward to talking to you in between our yards. I never suspected you were coming out for Yeonhee. You chose her over me. I’m sure in your eyes, I was never even one of the selections. But why? Am I really that invisible?

You are a wonderful person. I’m not sure if there are enough adjectives in the world to describe how I see you. You’re like a portrait in the Louvre, unable for me to touch. You’re out of reach. And now that you’re with Yeonhee, you always will be. I know that you’ll treat her well. You’ll keep her hand warm with your own like I wish you could with mine. When she’s tired, she’ll rest her head on your shoulder. I hope you’re a comforting pillow. You seem like that kind of person. A comfort, a stronghold. I wish you could have been mine.

Love,

(y/n).

 They dated for two years before Yeonhee inexplicably ended the relationship. You knew she would have a very logical, analyzed reasoning for why she abruptly broke it off, though she never told you or anyone. However, you were surprised with how angry you were at her. How could she do that to someone like Kyungsoo, who had never treated her badly even for a moment? Your sympathy lied with him, but you had to show support for your friend. She wanted to move on, so you pretended to understand. She didn’t come around very often anymore in case of situations like tonight where she might accidentally run into or see him.

Up in your bedroom, you took a deep breath. Because it still hurt after all this time. You still longed to be the one he looked at, the one he wanted to see. Out of all your letters, his was the one that never worked. His was sealed up tight, but the feelings didn’t go away. They held on tight like a rock climber without a rope. You could distract yourself with other crushes, give in to fleeting feelings for others. And it would work for a little while. But in your weak moments, those feelings never failed to come back. Tonight was a reminder of that.

#exo #exo fake dating au #exo fake dating!au #exo x reader #exo college au #exo college!au #to all the boys i've loved before au #exo series #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #kim junmyeon #suho #kim minseok #xiumin #zhang yixing #lay #byun baekhyun #kim jongdae #chen #park chanyeol #d.o. #do kyungsoo #kim jongin #kai #oh sehun #Nine Little Letters

[glimmerglanger]

Oooh, I think I was the anon who submitted the Obikin first time ask! Honestly I’d read *anything* you wrote but of the AUs, I looove our sweet virginal Obi-Wan in mirror AU, everyone in that story gets off on the fact that he’s a virgin , and since the shadow/emperor role play was so scorching, it’d be very hot to read what the reality was. Or if you wanted to take things in a whole other direction and felt like revisiting the ageswap AU that would be just fine by me!

(re, this ask:  Anonymous said: 

Good heavens Glimmer, your spicy Sundays are going to kill me one of these days, but it’ll be a happy passing!!! My ask is inspired by your most recent post— so I re read a bunch of your fics and spicy snippets to confirm it hasn’t been done, but would you ever write an explicit Obikin first time?? There’s allusions to it, and roleplay, but I just want Anakin to rock virgin Obi-Wan’s world like he described in your snippet. Would it be gentle? Passionate? Fast? Pls I’m dying to know)

I....chose the “go in a whole other direction” choice, ahadfdka. SO. This is part of the reverse/age-swap au. (aka the “Anakin was trained by Qui-Gon and took Obi-Wan as a Padawan after the events of TPM!AU). You can find the first part here, though this is, obviously, set before that one.

I have MANY WARNINGS. The AU as a whole is dead dove do not eat. This part especially? Dark, manipulative Anakin (he’s got 10 more years of Palps whispering to him). Dubcon (it...fits the definition of dubcon, but I, personally, feel that it borders very close to noncon, so keep that in mind when deciding to skip or not). Emotional grooming, possessiveness, master/padawan relationship, overstimulation, etc. Obi-Wan is over the age of consent.  

PLEASE READ ALL THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ THE FIC. NOT SAFE FOR WIZARDS. DEAD DOVE. ETC.

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

Obi-Wan had - just about - gotten used to kissing his Master. He still flashed hot all over every time Anakin leaned down, shocked and startled and so - so awed that Anakin wanted to touch him, to hook a finger under his chin and tilt his jaw up, to lean down and slide their mouths together.

Obi-Wan had never kissed anyone before. He’d haltingly admitted it, when Anakin asked, embarrassed because it was - was obviously something people did, just not him, and--

Anakin had seemed pleased, anyway, with the news. He’d radiated a deep, shivery kind of pleasure out into the Force and breathed, “Good,” a moment before he’d taken another kiss. 

Obi-Wan had never kissed anyone but Anakin, but he thought he’d gotten pretty good at it. He still didn’t really know what to do with his hands, but that seemed to be alright. He couldn’t imagine touching Anakin the way Anakin touched him.

It seemed… he just couldn’t bring himself to pull aside his Master’s robes, to touch his bare skin, all golden and lovely. That didn’t seem to be a problem, either. Anakin showed Obi-Wan what he needed, and Obi-Wan was a fast learner.

He learned how to touch Anakin’s hardened cock, when Anakin told him to do so. He learned how to wrap his fingers around overheated flesh, how to stroke him, Anakin nuzzling against his neck and panting.

It didn’t make sense, really, that Anakin would want someone like him, but -- but his Master was the Chosen One. He knew much better than Obi-Wan. And he said, rasping, that Obi-Wan made him feel--better. Steadier. Good.

It left Obi-Wan feeling tingly and hot all over. He’d thought his heart might pound right out of his chest the first time Anakin told him to get on his knees. It had been - Obi-Wan had never opened his mouth and taken someone else into his mouth before, either.

Anakin had curled Obi-Wan’s Padawan braid around a finger and held on, rasping instructions down, watching with dark, dark eyes. And he’d promised, when Obi-Wan choked at the end, startled by the rush of fluid into his mouth, that Obi-Wan would get better at that, too.

He had. 

Master Anakin was a very good teacher. Obi-Wan’s saber forms had improved rapidly under his tutelage. And Obi-Wan must have learned what to do with his mouth quickly, too, because Anakin said Obi-Wan was the best he’d ever had, said his mouth was perfect, said he was made to suck and choke and swallow, just for Anakin.

Obi-Wan’s master was the Chosen One. Obi-Wan didn’t see how he could be anything but correct. 

Master Anakin said that Obi-Wan helped him touch the Force. Helped him focus on the Light. He said he needed it and--

And Obi-Wan had always tried to be a good Padawan. He grew used to the ache in his jaw and the way his throat got sore. Master Anakin was always very kind, so gentle when he wiped Obi-Wan’s face, afterwards, brushing aside any tears - Master Anakin said it was alright, he said tears were normal, when getting your throat fucked, and Obi-Wan had felt like he might die on the spot from the way he burned at the words - and smears of spit.

Anakin liked to push his come back up and over Obi-Wan’s lips, if he couldn’t swallow it all. Obi-Wan grew used to the salt-sour taste. It wasn’t so bad, really, once you’d tasted it a few times, but he preferred it when Anakin came down his throat, when he didn’t have to taste it.

His throat was sore when Anakin pulled him close, after they got back from a sparring session, tugging him into the fresher. The hot water felt good over his aching muscles but, despite the heat, he shivered when Anakin pressed close, hands settling on his hips and pulling him closer.

“Force,” Anakin said, against his neck, hands clenching against his skin. His Master was hard, but, then, Anakin had been hard when they left the sparring rooms. Obi-Wan had felt the press of his cock when Anakin pinned him, face down on the mats. Anakin had - had rubbed against him, against the swell of his ass, and Obi-Wan had frozen, wondering if he would need Obi-Wan on his knees, there, in the training rooms--

They had made it back to their quarters. He felt grateful for that, distantly, as Anakin slid a hand lower, gripping his ass and rasping, “You make me crazy, you know that?”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Obi-Wan murmured. He was never sure what to say when Anakin said such things. “I don’t mean to.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan felt the crook of his mouth. “I think you know exactly what you do to me, don’t you?” 

Obi-Wan wanted to protest that he didn’t know what he was doing at all. But Anakin was the Chosen One. And he didn’t like it, anyway, when Obi-Wan disagreed with him. Especially when they were like this, when he needed the relief and steadiness only Obi-Wan could give him. Obi-Wan jerked out a little nod, and Anakin sucked a kiss into his skin, rasping, “I knew it.”

“Master….” Obi-Wan started, and trailed off when Anakin sucked harder at his skin, an edge of teeth sliding across his neck. Anakin put a hand on his lower back, ran his fingers up Obi-Wan’s spine and curled fingers into Obi-Wan’s hair, tilting his face back and kissing him until he felt breathless and ready to fly apart.

And then Anakin pulled away, breathing hard, and said, “Clean off. Hurry.”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said, disoriented, his heart racing. He’d expected Anakin to tell him to get on his knees, there in the shower. He had, before. Instead, Anakin did nothing more than touch him, touches lingering and possessive, as Obi-Wan scrubbed himself clean, hurriedly. “Should I…?”

“Out onto our bed,” Anakin said, pulling him close to drop a brief kiss across his mouth. It had been their bed for some time. Obi-Wan never slept in his own room, anymore. Anakin liked to keep him close at night, liked to hold him, and it was a good idea, anyway.

His Master had nightmares, so frequently. Obi-Wan could better help with them if he were there, already. He knew how to soothe Anakin’s, how to stroke back his hair and hold him until he calmed down, and if Anakin left marks on his skin from how tightly he held on, sometimes…

Well. It only went to show how bad the dreams were, how much help he needed.

He set those thoughts aside and sat on the side of the bed. He wondered if he ought to dress, but Anakin had been hard, when he left the shower. He closed his eyes, instead, tilting his head down and focusing on looking for the calm, still place inside his head, pulling the Force close and all around him.

He felt settled in his bones when Anakin cupped both sides of his jaw, tilted his face up, and kissed him. “What a dutiful Padawan I have,” Anakin said, when he drew back, his mouth curved into a smile, something besides praise in the words, something Obi-Wan couldn’t quite identify, even as Anakin continued, “Dutiful in all things, aren’t you?”

“I try to be, Master,” he said, puzzled by the way Anakin’s emotions shifted in the Force, at the way his expression tightened. He didn’t have time to discover the meaning of any of it, not with Anakin kissing him again, pushing him steadily back, until he sprawled across the mattress, Anakin stretched over him. 

“Force,” Anakin rasped, against his mouth, so warm and close and - and everywhere, “you’re so beautiful like this. So perfect.” Obi-Wan felt him smile, the crook of his mouth as he slid a hand down, over Obi-Wan’s stomach, touching his cock which--he didn’t, always. Obi-Wan never knew when he would or wouldn’t. “So eager for me.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip, trying to muffle a moan, trying to hold still. Anakin would say, if he wanted Obi-Wan to move. “Look at you,” Anakin murmured, stroking him, steady and sure. Obi-Wan felt his breathing getting shallow, felt his stomach getting tight, wildly unsure why Anakin wanted to touch him like this, wanted to - to spend time trying to make Obi-Wan feel good, wanted--

“There you go,” Anakin said, quietly, breath rasping by Obi-Wan’s ear, twisting his wrist just so, relaxing his grip when Obi-Wan came with a groan. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked, smearing his fingers through the mess on Obi-Wan’s stomach. Obi-Wan nodded, dizzy-headed, and Anakin smiled against his skin. “Good. And it’ll make things easier. Spread your legs for me.”

Obi-Wan blinked, tingling still from his orgasm, thoughts feeling slow and drifting. But he shifted a leg to the side, almost automatically. He’d gotten very used to doing what Anakin told him to do. That was what Padawans did. They obeyed their Masters and he was a good Padawan, he--

Jolted when Anakin shifted up, frowning at him, and said, “I said spread your legs, Obi-Wan.”

“I’m sorry,” he panted out, not entirely sure what was going on. He’d expected Anakin to shift up the bed, to put his knees on either side of Obi-Wan’s shoulders and slide his cock between Obi-Wan’s lips, or to rub against him, sometimes he liked to do that, too, it--

Anakin said, “Better,” and shifted so he could crouch between Obi-Wan’s legs, running his hands up Obi-Wan’s thighs from knee to hip. He squeezed a little, gaze hungry and roving, as he said, “I can’t even think, looking at you. You are so...perfect.”

He leaned forward, bracing a hand by Obi-Wan’s head and kissing him again, deep and hard. He was still kissing Obi-Wan, nipping at Obi-Wan’s bottom lip, when he slid his hand up Obi-Wan’s leg, past his spent cock, and--

Obi-Wan made a harsh sound, jerking at a sudden - sudden press into him and--

Anakin panted, “Sh, sh, relax,” curled up over him, weight keeping Obi-Wan against the mattress. He had--he’d put-- “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so tight. So hot. I knew you would be.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth and shut it again, soundless. He started to reach up, not sure what he planned to do with his hands, and lowered them back to the bed, instead, twisting his fingers into the sheets, feeling like his skin was too tight, all of a sudden, heat washing over his face and down his chest and back when Anakin slid his finger out. Obi-Wan thought maybe--

Anakin pushed his finger in again, and Obi-Wan heard the sound he made from a distance, body clenching around the intrusion even as Anakin shifted, trailing kisses down his throat, the pressure of his mouth and teeth a distracting counterpoint to the continued movement of his hand.

Obi-Wan tensed, hearing the crack in his own voice when he cried out, “Master,” when Anakin slid another finger into him, and the stretch felt - felt impossible, too much, and--

“It’s alright,” Anakin said, nipping at his collarbone. “You’re doing so well, Obi-Wan. I knew you would. You’re always just what I need.” And he twisted his fingers, knuckles catching and Obi-Wan cried out again, at a jolt of electric sensation-- 

Anakin made a thick, amused sound. He crooked his fingers, spreading them out while they were inside and said, “Fuck, I knew you’d love it. Look at you.” He slid his other hand over, fingers brushing over Obi-Wan’s cock - twitching a bit with whatever Anakin was doing and-- Obi-Wan blinked, rapidly, trying to clear his eyes, trying to breathe deep and steady.

And he supposed he did like it - it was making him hard, making his gut tight and his spine all liquid heat. He just wished he could do more than gulp at the air, trembling as Anakin rasped, “I think you can take another.”

Obi-Wan turned his face to the side, gasping, legs tensing where they’d curled up against Anakin’s sides and hips. He thought he might fly apart. It didn’t -- hurt, exactly, the stretching pressure, but it was so strange and it burned, a little, and Anakin kept - kept twisting his fingers, hitting something that made Obi-Wan’s spine arch, that--

“It’s alright,” Anakin said, “you can make noises for me, let me hear how you like it.”

The next twist of his fingers did drag a noise from Obi-Wan’s throat, ragged. And he - and if Anakin said, then he must, then--

Anakin slid fingers across his cock, and stroked him, kneeling there between his legs, the sensations caused by his hands building on one another, higher and higher. Obi-Wan tightened his fingers in the sheets, burning up under his skin, and Anakin did not relent, did not slow his pace at all, until Obi-Wan bowed up, cock jerking with the force of his orgasm.

Anakin slid his fingers free while Obi-Wan was still shaking, and Obi-Wan cried out, sharp. It felt far too loud in the quiet of their room. Anakin didn’t chide him, though, only smiled down at him, so lovely, almost glowing through the Force, his hair disheveled and--

Obi-Wan had to curl his legs up when Anakin settled against him, his heels bumping awkwardly against Anakin’s back. Anakin rocked against him, still hard - but, then, Obi-Wan hadn’t done anything, none of the things Anakin usually needed him to do.

Anakin curled down over him, grabbed his chin and turned his face back, kissing him hard while Obi-Wan tried to get his breath back, and--

Obi-Wan cried out against his mouth, Anakin swallowing the sound, when Anakin put his other hand on Obi-Wan’s hip, gripped hard and shifted forward. There was pressure, sudden, sliding against him where he was so tender and sensitive already, and then into him, thicker than Anakin’s fingers, hot and hard and--

“Fuck,” Anakin rasped, against his mouth, “yeah, Obi-Wan, just like that.”

Obi-Wan twisted, but there was no where to go and - and anyway, he could feel the pleasure rolling off of Anakin, flowing through their bond and rushing into his head. Anakin liked this, liked pushing further and further in, his emotions loud and bright and sharp.

Obi-Wan breathed shallow, his heart racing in his chest, hands off the blankets despite all his best efforts because he needed something more solid to hold onto, so he didn’t fly apart. Anakin didn’t chide him, when Obi-Wan gripped at his arm and one shoulder, holding on tightly, thoughtlessly, and then Anakin stopped, pressed flush against him.

His body was warm and solid, stretched out across Obi-Wan, but it was so hard to focus on that, so hard to focus on anything but the - the stretch of him, inside. “Force,” Anakin said, voice all thick with pleasure, “you’re perfect, Obi-Wan, just right. So hot and tight for me, aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan nodded, jerkily, not sure he could manage words. He felt--split apart, like he was choking even with nothing in his throat, his ribs all tight around his lungs and his skin burning. It was--so much, all over, he couldn’t--

“You were meant for this,” Anakin murmured, thick, shifting and it was too much, Obi-Wan couldn’t-- “Meant to take me, the Force made sure we’d find each other. The universe knew how much I’d need you. Knew you were mine.”

Obi-Wan blinked, but it did nothing to clear his vision. He tightened his hold on Anakin, tilting his face up, gasping for air in his overheated lungs, stretched and filled and-- And this was what Anakin needed and -- and Anakin was the Chosen One, and Obi-Wan was his - his Padawan, his--

He got lost, listening to his own voice, the sounds he made as Anakin moved above him, around him, inside him. The burn faded, his body giving way, learning what Anakin needed, but it was still - each thrust lit up all his nerves, too bright. He felt over sensitive, aching as Anakin panted above, skin shined with exertion, expression written all over with pleasure.

Obi-Wan held onto that, onto knowing Anakin needed this, needed to push into him, folding him up a little further, rasping, “I need you so much, Obi-Wan. I need you - just like this, I--tell me, tell me you’re mine.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he could breathe enough to form words. He wasn’t sure it was right to say that he was Anakin’s. But - but Anakin had asked, before. He needed it, needed that connection, and Obi-Wan was the only one who could help, he - he reached out with the Force, desperately, looking for balance, and found it after a moment. Enough, anyway, to suck in a breath, to gasp out, “I’m yours, Master.”

Anakin made a ragged, thick sound and the next thrust of his hips drove Obi-Wan’s up the bed. He held on, noises punched from his chest, hoping that--

That Anakin would find what he needed. Quickly. And he must have, because his pleasure crested in the Force, spilling around them both, even as he sagged down, weight pressing Obi-Wan into the mattress, making his hips ache from the stretch.

“Kriffing hell,” Anakin said, a moment later, nuzzling against the side of Obi-Wan’s neck as Obi-Wan tried to relearn what the inside of his skin felt like, “the things you do to me.”

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #spicy sunday #not safe for wizards #obikin #DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT #dubcon #leaning towards noncon #age swap au #overstimulation #please read the warnings #please please please

[sheepfulsheepyardinspace]

Do you have any Star Wars fanfic recommendations, or have a link to someone else's list? I really wanna veg out.

oh my god, DO I. this may have been the best ask in the world. i’m not really sure what u want a feel for, so i threw together some of my favorite longfics for maximum veg time from the ot/pt and links for swr and swtcw recs. they’re pretty much all luke-anakin/vader centric, since that’s kinda my bread and butter.

let’s start with frodogenic, who wrote the first longfic i ever read in sw and might be one of the funniest authors ever. they once reviewed my fanfic & i nearly cried from joy. anyway. 

The Father, 284k+, complete. “Ten years after ROTS, tormenting nightmares of his unborn child drive Darth Vader to extraordinary measures with unexpectedly drastic consequences. Clearly, experience has taught Darth Vader nothing...” 

this is my og star wars fic and boy oh boy is it amazing. i will never get over this. i don’t want to spoil anything but when i say the final chapters are great? i mean they’re legendary. sometimes i still think about them & wish upon a star that i could be such a great writer. vader’s amazing, han is spectacular, and the ocs are fantastic.

Far More Than Rubies, 70k+, complete. “Nine years after AOTC, tragedy revisits the Lars Homestead. Little Luke Skywalker is suddenly plunged into chaos as the rebel movements discover a secret military project that may make a crucial difference in the war with the Empire.”

the spiritual twin of The Father, FMTR takes a look at padmé’s character and relationship with both luke and anakin/vader that’s hard to beat. it’s darker and heavier than The Father, but it hits those same sweet, sweet emotional beats while raising the age-old question: if padmé had lived, what would she have done?

The Family Tree, 12k, complete. “In which Luke Skywalker is stranded in a tree waiting for a flash flood to recede. Too bad he's got company...”

okay, i admit, this isn’t a longfic, but it is a longshot, and it’s amazing. the imagery and description always blow me away, and the interaction (canon-compliant) between luke and vader just [chef’s kiss] get me. vader’s in full, glorious form, and it makes it all the harder when luke wrestles with the knowledge that vader is his father.

Sibling Revelry, 25k, complete. “After Bespin and before Endor, Darth Vader is shocked to discover that Luke and Leia are twins. He's even more shocked when Imperial Intelligence reports that Organa and Skywalker are, erm, a tad closer than previously suspected.”

this is complete crack and humor in the best way possible. it’s crack treated entirely seriously, and you will be in stitches, i promise. no matter how many times i’ve read this i break down.

KittandChips (@kittandchips) writes what i can only describe as food for the soul. the luke-vader interaction is insanely amazing, the world building of daily imperial life and imperial governance is amazing, and vader just has a special je ne sais quoi that u must read to understand––tragic, funny, and so, so fatherly. they’re currently rewriting the Force Bond Series to fit in with newer canon, so i will joyously binge reread the entire again (including the new Force Bond: Mustafar Weekend).

Force Bond 1: Orphan, 47k, complete. “After Owen and Beru are killed by a mysterious stranger, young Luke ends up as an orphan on Coruscant. It's a race against time as Obi-Wan struggles to find Luke before Vader realizes the boy is his son.”

Orphan kicks off the series, which tracks vader and luke’s relationship through the perils of luke’s teenagerhood while growing up under the eye of the emperor and imperial court. it’s filled with slow growth, struggle and misunderstandings as darth vader tries to single parent, and pay off in every installment. the entire series clocks in around 777k+ and is the most joyful, fulfilling reading you’ll ever have. promise.

darth-nickels (@darth--nickels) writes darker, twistier, and terribly, terribly heartwrenching aus. they’ve got a whole host, but let me introduce to my two favorites. also, check out their faux-academia on vader. it’s amazing and i love it, but i admit i am an academia hoe.

Dooku Captured, Pt 2, 16k, complete. “Dooku is taken alive onboard the Invisible Hand, and Sidious' web is torn. The Sith Lord wonders if death might have been preferable to clumsy interrogation by Anakin Skywalker.”

Dooku Captured is a longshot au told from Dooku’s pov which takes the beginning of ROTS and throws it on its head. it’s a fascinating outside perspective of anakin and obi-wan’s relationship and such and interesting examination of dooku’s psyche and especially his complex relationship with the jedi order, qui-gon, yoda, and palpatine. i cannot rec this one enough.

Black Mirror, 90k, incomplete. “The Ghost crew returns to the Lothal when they hear the Empire is investigating the Jedi Temple there. They learn Vader is alone and decide to take him out-- but what they find could change the course of Galactic history.”

Black Mirror diverges into swr territory, but make no mistake: this is entirely an examination of vader and, later, obi-wan as well as ahsoka. luke makes his appearance later in the game, and boy oh boy will you love luke’s portrayal is a microcosm of luke and vader’s relationship within canon. heed the tags, though.

jerseydevious ( @jerseydevious ) is, first and foremost, one of my favorite people on earth. secondly, though, she’s an amazing writer with a deep understanding of vader’s character and psyche, a flair for beautiful depictions, and the true ability to wring every emotion out of your body.

Two and a Half Men (with a baby), 13k, incomplete. “After a long day of bargaining with Hutts and attempting to ignore his past, Darth Vader is nearing the end of his rope. When he discovers his two-year-old son, it's the straw that breaks the semi-rational Sith Lord's back; in a rash act worthy of the Skywalker name, he scoops his son into his arms, steals a shuttle from his own fleet, and punches in random hyperspace coordinates to a destination on the other side of the galaxy. Unfortunately, father and son are not the only ones on the ship.”

Two and a Half Men will stick with you, dude. like no other. i promise. it’s a whirlwind ride with obi-wan, vader, and piett and as funny as it is heartbreaking. it touches on some heavy issues and doesn’t shy away from looking at the damage done to vader––again, heed the tags.

Helioseismology, 4k, complete. “Luke gets shot down on a supply run and caught in an ice storm. It's extremely lucky that his father followed him there.“

i’ll admit. im completely biased about this one because it was a birthday gift to me and i am sucker for litcherally anything when jd puts pen to paper, but believe me when i say you will be awed by the depth and tangled relationships between these luke and vader that jersey can illustrate in a stroke of the paintbrush. im love. always.

izzythehutt ( @izzythehutt ) i am blown away by the intricate dialogue and characterization, always. and the latin puns? im sold. im also a sucker for latin puns, but that’s a story for a different time.

In Loco Pirates, 34k, complete. “A down-on-his-luck Hondo Ohnaka manages to capture the unicorn of all bounties--Luke Skywalker, which sends Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, on a painfully familiar trip to the planet Florrum to collect his prize. The failed negotiations leave Vader in the awkward position of being stuck in a besieged pirate bunker, trying to balance keeping his wayward child safe (and in his custody) with controlling the tongue of a loose-lipped pirate who--to the surprise of no one--has a bad habit of telling 'amusing' anecdotes from the Clone Wars.”

hondo, aka the best character of swtcw, is brought to life just as vividly on paper as on screen. his entire personality brings luke and vader’s difficulties in a sort of incredulous light, which makes it as funny as it is vulnerable and tragic. the sequel, Palpatine Ad Portas, brings piett into the spotlight, and oh man do his interactions with palpatine and vader bring u all the uncomfortable vibes. relish in it.

sparklight ( @littlesparklight ) man. lemme introduce u to an amazing prolific and detailed writer. i will never get over the series they’ve written & neither will u.

Where Our Intrepid Hero Doesn’t Get Away, 122k, incomplete. “One-shots surrounding either AU situations of canon/legends works where Luke would normally have gotten away (or Vader is simply inserted into the action to come pick his child up) but in these instances doesn't, or completely new scenarios of the same. There are no deep ruminations on consequences of the situations here, just our awful Sith dad picking his son up when he'd rather not be.”

exactly what it says on the tin. u know those glorious moments of fanfic where luke’s gotten captured and ur on pins and needles, waiting for vader to show up in a moment of dark glory? here’s the moment. here’s all the moments.

Space Race, 122k, incomplete. “Owen gives in to Luke's wish to attend the Imperial Academy and Obi-Wan is too late to avert it, though he's not too late to make sure Luke leaves Arkanis before Vader can gets his hands on him. Luke spends over a month running around the galaxy before his father gets him, and from there...”

this story relishes in chase and boy is it fun. it will keep you on the edge of your seat and it’s an amazing ride.

The Suns of Tatooine, 85k, complete. “Luke ends up on a moon swamped in dark side energy after a mission goes wrong, then his father appears... and then they go on a bit of a learning experience. This could've been the only thing that would come of getting through a Sith complex with his father, but thanks to going to free Han earlier than the gang did otherwise, more revelations are had. Will that change anything?”

this series is a thoughtful, contemplative piece examining the nature of the force and the relationship the skywalkers have with tatooine. the descriptions are beautiful, the inventiveness is amazing, and you’ll be thinking about it for long afterwards.

an additional few…

Between Flight and Longing; 34k, complete. “Luke Skywalker and Han Solo journey to the planet Balen'ar on a desperate mission and find more than they'd bargained for.”

a classic and it is for a reason. the interaction between han, luke, and vader is so spectacular and the slow trudge of going through the forest with your greatest enemy and best friend is something hilarious. the end is bittersweet and fantastic.

The Sith Who Brought Life Day, 13k, complete. “An Imperial officer loses a bet and has to get Darth Vader a present for Life Day.”

somewhere between terrifying and dull, this fic presents a canon-compliant look at the hunt for luke and the grinding wheels of the empire. the oc is amazing and it echoes in true star wars spirit: sometimes it’s just some dude who can change the galaxy.

Quintessence, 5k, complete. ‘“Well, Master, I think I’ve found the one positive aspect of this situation.” “Which is?” “The Temple won’t have to pay the costs for our funeral pyres.”’

pure hilarity and shenanigans abound in pre-aotc obi-wan and anakin hijink goodness. lemme tell u––u will deeply sympathize with mace windu afterwards. additionally, check out the rest of the author’s oneshots! they’re deeply thoughtful and the interactions the author writes between obi-wan and anakin are always gold.

some extras & shameless self-promotion

here’s a full list of recommendations for star wars rebels fanfic in case this is what you’re looking for (remember when this used to be a swr blog, lmao)

i’ve also written sw fanfic, both swr and luke-vader centric. drop by and tell me if it’s any good!

#also if anybody knows these authors' tumblr accounts pls lmk so i can link them #guys remember piett? #i miss piett #firmus piett #star wars #star wars fanfic #sw fanfic #sw fic #three two one boom #jerseydevious #luke skywalker #darth vader #anakin skywalker #star wars rebels #late-in-the-day #idk if any of these r new at all to anyone #but they r my faves :)

[wanderingpages]

Dude how do you write??? Like what inspired your aus?? They’re so good and they’re not at all pretentious, you know? Like I can’t stand writing that tries too hard with purple prose to the point where idk if they fuckin or taking a walk in the park lmao

I don’t know I just write? Lol I’m no professional. I write like how I see the world I guess? How I think about things, especially something impactful for the day, I’d think back on that moment way too often, memorize every detail. Lol that’s why I remember so much nonsense about high school and college😩😩Usually I do dialogue first then like three edits for details and scenery 🤷🏻‍♀️ then I have like a side notes for stuff I want to happen and things I should remember later on

Idk what pretentiousness entails lmao but I do, a lot of times, cannot stand flowery prose 🙈🙈🙈 I think I tried it in a few of my earlier one shots but I cringe reading them now hahaha. As for inspo...

Ceo: I don’t know I really just wanted some office crack that sorta makes sense but doesn’t at the same time. stupid ridiculous things happening that no one questions lol also I really wanted to use stuff my little cousins and my friends say 🤡

Dark: lmao oh boy I just wanted some sort of taboo smut, so I wrote that first, then I started detailing tattoos and piercings and scars and a whole bunch of stuff that was way too in depth for just a quick au smut one shot. So I kept the smut on the back burner and tried to write stuff I’d think would happen before that hahaha so now that smut is source material for all body mods. Also I really wanted to write a bad guy Cardan in which, sure there’s a back story, but he’s like not the good guy no fucks about it and a Jude thats naïve and innocent until we realize she really isn’t.

Junior mafia: lol that was really supposed to only be a one shot then I got bombarded w sequel requests and I was like u know what I kinda do wanna explore the ghost being a love interest too... but like for the both of them haha. The first sequel was like me watching fast and furious and true romance and also robbers by the 1975, but the last two updates were really me not being in a good place and just writing nonsense to piss myself off lol 😩 idk when I’ll ever revisit that, but I think you can tell my heart wasn’t in it by the last update.

Pregnancy: I just got a a lot of requests for pregnant jurdan and I was like??? Idk about pregnancy??? (I still don’t and here I am 13 weeks pregnant lmao) I literally thought of like a parasite lmao all I knew was like that one scene in alien v predator, rosemarys baby, Juno and some weird nightmares I chronically have lmaooo but I’m like eh I can probably do something and put it all in the same setting? Tried to go for humor so that’s why it sometimes maybe seems like it should be bulked in with ceo, but there are some soft moments like the spring flower and some more serious toned ones like cardans reaction and what not. And some (one) smut lol

Rockstar: my dearest. I do love all my aus but rockstar really holds a special space in my heart. I had actually written the concept back in high school, just brain storming with my best friend who used to love my writing lmao I literally promised I’d write rockstar for her. It was a lot different then, but I think I wrote three chapters and sent it to her to ~review~ and she sent it back with all these pink comments everywhere. Originally they were OCs named David and Juliet (and a third guy named Rafe) and the concept was a little bit different; Jules and David have been friends since kids, Jules was far more outgoing and bubbly, David was more stoic, unmoved by anything except in regards to Jules, then this small band came about, Rafe was the lead singer and somehow became involved with David, pulling him into the band on the rise of fame while his relationship w Jules struggled until they finally grew apart. Then they meet again 4 years later. I had it outlined and stuff but forgot about it for years really. Then last summer my best friend passed away. She had brain cancer so we were expecting it, but it still sucked. I was going through old texts and photos and emails and I found the story I’d sent her all marked up in pink and for that whole week from her death to her funeral, I couldn’t stop thinking about the story. I ended up writing like the first 10 chapters when I came back from her funeral, tweaked it A LOT to fit in all the characters and stuff, and with taryn now involved, a lot of what happened to juliet in the original is actually split now between Jude and her (so spoiler? Easter egg?) as with Cardan and ghost/Garret, and Rafe became ~the embodiment~ of DeathSweet and our uncle randy LOL anyways basically rockstar is her story that I’d promised.

#asks #rockstar au #pregnancy au #ceo au #junior mafia au #dark au #tw pregnancy #tw death #anyways yeah rockstar really is my baby #pregnancy was kinda experimental I guess #jmau ended up as some weird venting #dark is me pretending I know crime stuff #ceo is escapism hahaha #and I write at a 5th grade level #jurdan

[gwoongi]

(abandoned) it’s late, just stay

john wick / reader genre: sugar daddy au rating: general, mature themes words: 2.4k warnings: sugar daddy relationship, slight john wick 2 spoilers i guess a/n: this 1 is for me. i wrote her in a heat,,,she’s literally not finished. but im adding her to my online portfolio 4 the memories. Also fyi the profile was made before i indulged in seeking arrangements and as a sugar baby i know that ur not allowed to mention 90% of brooklynbaby’s bio in ur bio but who cares man this is fiction and im making it up

At that, she tossed her head back with a laugh and leant forward. “And since when are sugar babies a relationship status?”

Sometimes, John doesn’t really know how he gets himself into awkward situations.

The first few occasions, he figured it was merely a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. While, actually, this always worked out in his favour, John began to notice that it was more frequent that he ended up at a bar with some people he didn’t really know, or being invited to a baby shower as the date of a woman he had never even met before. Granted, John enjoyed company whenever he could get it, and whenever it avoided conflict; however socialism has never been his strongest asset. No, he simply prefers silent gestures or glances across rooms, ‘eye conversations’ where he says hello and nothing else for the remainder of the evening.

“You just need to loosen up a bit,” is what Addy had told him, whilst slipping him a glass of straight Bourbon. It had been a relatively quiet evening in the Continental, and just when John thought he could have five minutes of peace and quiet, Addy has slipped in his line of sight. “You know, go out. Make new friends.”

“You’re my friend,” John replied. He made no room to elaborate on that statement, swallowing the contents of the drink and pushing it back to her with a short nod. She sighed and rolled her eyes, doing her job.

“No, you know what you really need?” He didn’t answer, glancing at her through his hair as she filled his drink and rested her weight on her elbows. Instantly, John didn’t like the feeling in his stomach when Addy raised her eyebrows suggestively, tugging on her bottom lip with newfound excitement: “I think you need to get laid.” 

And when John scoffed with humour, she tried again, “and not like, laid as in you have a one night stand. No- hear me out, John! You should invest in a sugar baby. You know, someone you can spend time with when you’re not doing the dirty work for everybody else. It’s fun, and frisky, and also means you can start spending some of the millions you have stashed somewhere not being used.”

She tutted like a scolding mother, “Selfish boy.” Addy then smiled, “Maybe instead of retirement, what you really need is something to help you unwind.”

John scoffed, gulping back the Bourbon. “I’m married.”

At that, she tossed her head back with a laugh and leant forward. “And since when are sugar babies a relationship status?”

That’s really all the thinking he had done on the subject of John- John fucking Wick- investing in a sugar baby. He simply took it in stride, almost complimented by the assumption that he was attractive and rich enough to have someone leaning on him for money and sex, and stored it away for future thought when he was lost and drunk. John never actually considered the possibility of “putting his bills to good use” until fucking Santino D’Antonio decided to light a bonfire inside his house. Having lost virtually everything related to Helen, he found himself back at the Continental, back to listening to Addy sympathetically give her condolences and five seconds later, introducing him to Seeking Arrangements.

John doesn’t know why he’s doing this, staring at the laptop screen that smiles at him. For circumstances, Addy had loaned him her laptop for the evening he spends at the Continental, and he’s too busy browsing the elaborately made profiles that he barely registers the fact that he is still wearing his suit. He pulls at the cuffs of his blazer and is midway through taking it off when he stumbles across a profile- one of which is oddly amusing- titled brooklynbaby. He racks his mind for the reference but can’t seem to place it.

“A sugar baby suggests that I sleep with them, and as I said,” John had mentioned back in the bar, “I’m married.”

Addy had grabbed his hands and groaned, “Look- you might surprise yourself. And, I’m not suggesting that you throw your wife away for somebody new. I’m just saying you need to...make use of yourself. Honestly, you’re too sexy to be stored away like this. Most sugar babies are dumb and unobservant, they won’t even know who you are.”

brooklynbaby makes an adorably hilarious first impression, and John is hesitant to browse her profile. If he wanted to “make use of himself” by investing all of his personal time into somebody who in truth wanted him for his dick and his bank balance, then it needed to be somebody at least near to his wavelength. Somebody who was smart, but clueless at the same time, and somebody who was the complete opposite of Helen. The last thing he needed on top of a handful of a baby was the guilt of moving on. But still, even when he pinned her tab and returned to scrolling through the profiles, John realised that most sugar babies were simply trolls hidden behind pretty pictures, or girls who wanted money for pleasure and not for need.

He went back to brooklynbaby. Three times. Three times, before he pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering a quiet, “Oh, fuck it,” and favoriting her account, and pressing to send a message.

Even online, John was never great with words. He typed, and backspaced, and typed again, trying to come up with something interesting to make up for the bland profile he made around thirty minutes ago.

From: johnwick So. You like dogs?

If Addy were here, she would have slapped him.

Almost immediately after it sends, John lets out a frustrated noise and tears his gaze away from the screen. Dating just wasn’t like how it was when he met Helen. Why did everything have to be so complicated, and mysterious, and why the hell does he even have to waste his money on somebody when he could be saving this money to eventually, whenever the day comes, retire? John wrestles with the dilemma of deleting the whole account when a notification bell rings through the laptop speakers.

From: brooklynbaby yes, I love dogs!!! :D (typing) do you have a dog?

John breathes a sigh of relief.

From: johnwick Yes. I do.

From: brooklynbaby oh, great. :) (typing)

John’s leg begins to bounce quickly, the table wavering with the glass on top, like an earthquake. Suddenly, brooklynbaby stops typing and John stills. Why did she stop? Did he do something wrong? Honestly, women are so hard to please nowadays.

From: brooklynbaby want to be my sugar daddy?

Never mind.

From: johnwick I would.

From: brooklynbaby cool

Neither him or brooklynbaby says anything for a few moments, and John doesn’t notice. After-all, he is still a working man, busy with life and revenge and trying to stay alive for more than three seconds. When he goes back to the laptop and sees no reply, he frowns.

From: johnwick I am sorry. I really don’t know what I’m doing. What am I supposed to say?

He makes a mental reminder to have words with Addy later.

From: brooklynbaby /(*u*)/ you’re cute we could make dinner reservations and talk over terms if you’d like!!! i say reservations because they’re fancy and if anything goes wrong, we can pretend we’re… business partners? discussing business?

Without even really realising, John finds himself laughing shortly, settling back into the chair. All of this feels weird, as in typing to a stranger he’s planning to spend his money on and occasionally fuck. John quickly revisits her profile and spends four minutes analysing her profile picture. If this is her, then she’s really very beautiful. A steal.

From: johnwick When are you free for dinner?

From: brooklynbaby hmm well i’m dogsitting tomorrow, but i can be free for the day after!!!! is that okay ^_^

From: johnwick That would be fine. [Address] at 7pm, does that work for you?

brooklynbaby pauses.

From: brooklynbaby omg am i gonna have to dress fancy?

From: johnwick Don’t feel pressured. I only own black.

From: brooklynbaby well….guess i’ll bring out like one of my old uni party dresses :( but you have to promise not to judge me!!!

John laughs again. At some point during the evening, he ends up with a planned dinner reservation at one of the most expensive restaurants in Brooklyn, and he’s also 2 grand poorer thanks to the generous donation in brooklynbaby’s bank account for a nice evening outfit.

When John returns the laptop to Addy the following morning, he was admittedly expecting the rant that followed. She had glared at the laptop being handed back over the bar and refused to serve him until he came up with a reasonably valid excuse as to why he wasn’t putting himself out there for a bit of company. John had blinked with an unimpressed look and drummed his fingers.

“I have dinner reservations with someone tomorrow at 7pm. Also- can I have a drink?”

But of course, with work being as tedious as ever and with his whole day being completely ruined by a blood stained shirt and poor room service for the first time in his many years of frequenting the Continental, John didn’t amuse himself with brooklynbaby until he logged onto the site on his phone, and saw that she had messaged thrice during the day. He almost felt guilty, until he saw a string of numbers at the end of the last message. He deemed it less necessary to read her above messages and instead went right to texting.

brooklynbaby ok. so should i just ask for mr john wick when i get to this restaurant??? sorry for so many texts im just kinda nervous

me Yes. I booked under my name and I will be waiting for you when you arrive. Why are you nervous? Didn’t you ask me to be here?

brooklynbaby well if we’re going to be technical then YOU asked me to dinner first :P and im nervous because i have nooo idea who you are send a picture?

John sank into bed.

me Maybe I like the element of surprise.

brooklynbaby seems a lil unfair that you get to see me but i dont get to see you :( ive seen ur dog before you thats saying something

me You could have used any image. If we’re going to be technical, I don’t even know your name, or if that is really you in the image.

John really hadn’t been expecting a full blown nude image at 4:15pm in the afternoon, but he will admit that it was nevertheless what he needed to break some steam. He had arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes earlier than expected, but that’s okay, Mr Wick. Right this way! Now that he was sitting here, at an empty table overlooking Brooklyn and the lights, with an already ordered bottle of wine, John could understand and relate to the first date nerves. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Not since-

brooklynbaby uhhh im kind of here like ten minutes early should i wait outside for you :3

He laughs, mostly to himself.

me I’m already up here. I ordered a rosé, is that alright?

brooklynbaby YES IM RUNNING

And, surprising himself also, John had clammed up and reached for his glass. Thankfully, the owner of this restaurant knew John by face and order, because, after-all, this had been his go-to with Helen. These days, he doesn’t have time to go out to new places and eat new things, and so had panicked, and picked a place with sentimental value, and a history of good food. He gulped back his glass of Bourbon and waited until the door at the other side of the room opened meekly, and he tried to appear vacant as the waiter led a woman across the room and towards him.

“Your date, Mr Wick.”

He left curtly and brooklynbaby followed his body as he left, her feet firmly glued to the floor as her head looked back over her shoulder. John took this as an opportunity to look at her body, covered in a beautiful dress he felt proud of paying for. Finally, brooklynbaby looked towards him and paused, observing him and his clearly surprising appearance. John then remembered the gash on his cheekbone and the way he probably looked very off-putting with an unshaven face and long hair, but brooklynbaby smiled softly and raised her brows, beating him to helping her in her chair as she quickly sat down and looked at his glass.

“How did you know I liked beards?”

John didn’t say anything for a moment. “I didn’t.”

brooklynbaby rolled her eyes with a grin. “Of course you didn’t.” She looked up, then, properly taking in his face. John did the same, looking at every feature present and coming to the quick conclusion that yes, she was definitely the woman in the pictures, and yes, she was one of the most gorgeous humans he had ever seen on planet Earth since Helen herself.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said honestly. “But, more than my expectations. I don’t believe I’ve really introduced myself- I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

He tried it out in his head. Y/N. Y/N L.N, Y/N L/N, Y/N Wick-

“John,” he replied and she sniggered and rested her chin in her palms.

“You’re seriously so handsome,” she complimented. “Are you sure you’re not married, or something?”

Her gaze panned to his hands where she noticed the wedding band, and for a moment, she hesitated. John wasn’t ashamed of the ring, nor embarrassed to be seen wearing it. He toyed with it on his finger, looking at her from across the table. “It’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded meekly. “I see.” She cleared her throat, “divorce? Planned divorce? Affair?”

“No, I’m widowed,” he tried out a joke, but she only looked more uncomfortable. Her mouth gaped and she fumbled for words.

“Oh, John, I’m really sorry- no, really, I’m so sorry,” she stumbled, and John watched her carefully across the table. “God, how fucking insensitive. Sorry, I guess that just. Wow, that never really crossed my mind. That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past,” John said, finding finality in that sentence. “I’m trying to move on from it.”

Y/N nodded sympathetically. “No, yeah, wow, I get it. Completely. I...hope I live up to great expectations, then?”

John smiled and looked past her, noticing the waiter rounding the corner with the bottle of rose. “You’re getting there, Miss L/N.”

#imagine if i was good and finished this it would be glorious #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick scenario #john wick imagine #john wick smut #john wick sugar daddy #john wick 2 #unfinished #gwoongi

[fandom-necromancer]

Questions for you (if you're ok answering): what is your favorite fic that you've written and what is your favorite that you've read of somebody else's

Okay, first of all: I love getting questions! I just tend to overshare so I hope that’s okay XD That’s a hard one, though. For one because I have a shit memory, but also because there are so many and I can’t decide. So, this will likely get long and I’ll put it under the cut not to disturb people that aren’t interested!

Shorts

My favourite one I wrote lately was likely the Cyberpunk AU for the Secret Santa? Because I could write whatever I wanted really and it was the first one in a long, long time that I sat down, had no idea what to write, began writing, was sucked in and a few hours later I was sitting there with a story that I absolutely loved. And that has become such a rare occasion lately because nothing is really fun anymore because Corona keeps me in a constant down phase? Idk. That was cool.

Also, the “A little distraction” series was fun! It’s an old story from last year and when I reuploaded that one, I was blown away how many people wanted more of that. As this had been planned for a longer story initially I had to condense into a short, it made me happy too, because people would have liked to read the longer version too, maybe? If I had ever written it? It was just really cool.

The Halloween short with Gavin being an eldritch shadow monster most people overlook completely was fun also because of the same reason as the Cyberpunk AU. I got lost in that one so hard. Really fun to write.

My all-time favourite short story  though is likely the pebble series. It started as a joke in my head but when I sat down to write it, it just felt natural. I kinda really projected on Nines in there and I think I like his personality there the most from all the fics I’ve written about him. They are both just really cute in there.

You can also look for the top ten stories in my opinion from last year’s anniversary if you search my blog in the tag #One Year of Stories and I think the real tag was something like #Last year revisited? I’m not sure though because tumblr and searching blog tags is horrible, hence the archive project XD. Should be around June 2020.

Big stories

I would say A Soldiers Purpose, but that doesn’t count as it isn’t a fic anymore while I rewrite it to be an original Story. Plan to publish that as a “real world” book in German and English hard copy as well as eBook and it should be international publishing? I’m not that sure as I’m still comparing self-publishers and some only serve Germany, US and Australia whats weird but okay. Although I believe with ISBN it should be available almost everywhere just not in stores? I always planned to have it ready before I finished my bachelor thesis but we will see if that is happening (I guess not but I will try). 

The Werewolf AU, definitely. It started as a vent fic to get me out of a really bad place (I guess anyone who read Somebody to die for knows it’s pretty dark) and I mean I’m here now and while I’m not happy I’m definitely happier than when I wrote it so... win? But now that I’m writing Wolfheart I really want to give them a happy ending and hopefully once that story ends the whole personal reason I started writing it ends too, so yeah. Maybe a really personal reason but I’m really invested in that story.

My favourite fic I have ever, ever written though will be one you never get to read (thankfully, hopefully). It’s super old, it’s German, it’s uploaded on a different platform I hope no one of you knows, it’s under yet another name of mine and it’s absolutely objectively bad. The writing is bad, the plot is okayish and I literally killed off the gay characters without noticing that as something bad because I was a very different person back then. But I love it to this day regardless because it got me through some hard times.

Also, as a last comment to my own stories I love my longer stories on AO3 far more than these shorts. Not because they are more fun to write or anything but because I feel like I put a lot of effort into them and put a lot of soul into the stories. But yeah, that’s to that.

Other’s works

My favourite fics I read are so, so damn many… I generally write more than I read but with the amount I write I guess it cancels it out. Also some are pretty old because I mostly read fanfic on the bus and now I haven’t really left the house for a year. I’ll try to keep it short. They are not in any particular order I just went through a few sites of my history. Really I just enjoy everything reverseAU, SoulmateAU, Mute!Nines and them all being softies. Also just the dbh stuff because I’m not sure you would be interested in other fandoms.

Accident by sv926 Soulmate AU, I really dig how the personality of Nines and Gavin are displayed and that it isn’t a “We are soulmates all is perfect now” storyline (although I like that too). Amazing.

Traitor by Skye_Willows, Stujet9rainshine If hurt/comfort was a fic. MedieavalAU. I really love the portrayal of manipulation and how Nines tries to save Gavin from it all. Also Nines is a painter so I’m in.

Soft Spot by Headfulloffantasy A story I really regret not reading earlier. Casefic with amazing characterisation and a plot that leaves you on the edge. Every time you think you got an overview of what happened or an idea of how it continues there is another facette revealed that you just didn’t expect. Can’t wait to read the next chapter.

XVIII by Sandara Cuteness overload but also prepare for the feels. It’s an ReverseAU that is set during the game events. It’s so damn well written I just love it.

Feral Nines by Kaini Nines whump. Kinda. I love it so much. Broken Nines is my weakness and also Mute!Nines. You get a lot of feelings reading this.

all the lonely nights in your life by  willgrahamssadness SoulmateAU that hurts but picks you up and shows you all the fluff in the end. I love it.

Safe and sound by a_calipygian Soft Reed900. With a lot of hurt/comfort. Lovely story about healing and found family. 

The Lion Tamer by celexdraw Equally cute as their drawings. CircusAU I didn’t know I needed but it is so well done. It is a happy story but has enough darkness to make me miss my busstop.

Despite it All by Jennilah Another SoulmateAU I absolutely love. Also has Hannor content I think but I didnt get to read that part yet.

Scrapyard Rookie by Pence Reverse AU that caught my heart. Really cute but with a little bastard GV if I remember correctly.

Sleeves by BloodthirstyMerc More Mute!Nines talking about Gavin’s past self harm. Super cute and comforting and aaaaa.

These Violent Delights by MechanicalBones Will absolutely destroy you. Is amazing and everything I ever wanted. Can recommend to those who too enjoy holding back tears on the bus.

Static Truth and Hunter Hunter Hunted by whatsanapocalae Both are super cute, super angsty and so, so comforting. The author has a really nice writing style too. Got to these fics because i wrote their Deus Ex stuff and discovered they write dbh too.

Rewind the Film by connorssock,Sylvestia Allen60. You will cry. And you will like it. I’m happy it was like 11pm on a bus  no one uses coming home from uni when I came to the part that hits you right in the feels. You have to read it.

Heavy In Your Arms by CatiDono More ReverseAU with Gavin whump. It’s also kinda a reset story. I usually don’t like these, but it starts after the reset so we never get to see the Gavin from before, just the onset of “I used to be a person before and there is someone loving me and grieving but I don’t know them but they are nice what do I do?” I really enjoyed this, although it’s kinda a heavy thing to read.

A mute Gavin one I can’t remember who or where it was from. I think it was on tumblr and timewise before the cornpocalypse but I’m not sure. Could be from connorssock? definitely on tumblr and Gavin lost his voice due to injury. I will try to find that again.

Also one from tumblr I can’t remember the name of, but it was homeless Gavin with Nines helping him. I think that one was from dumb-ways-to-deviate?

I could go on, but I already told far to much when you asked for like... 2 stories? I’m just excited to talk about stories XD

#Toaster Talks #oh boy I'm thinking about deleting half of it but I will hit post now because i spent too much time doing this #fic rec #dbh fic rec #my personal favourites #I have a lot more but aaaaaaaaaaaa

[ellanainthetardis]

Author Interview

Tagged by @flutteringphalanges​! Thanks!

Name: Karine. Ellana-san. EllanaSan. Ellanainthetardis. That’s a lot of names lmao.

Fandom(s): Mostly I’m hayffie exclusive those days. I’m hoping to go back to Lucifer. I kinda want to have a rewatch and hopefully find my love back for this show that S3 has detroyed... I loved writing fics for this pairing. I’m also anxiously waiting for the 6oC adaptation because I’ve hold off writing kanej fanfics for now but... I love them so much I’m not sure I will be able to resist the show. I am also currently obsessed with Phryne/Jack from Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries but not writing just stalking ao3.

Where You Post: Ellana-san in on fanfiction.net, EllanaSan on AO3 and ellanainthetardis on tumblr. I don’t post anywhere else and if you see my fic elsewhere it’s like been stolen. yes it has happened before. No it’s not fun.

Most Popular One-Shot: On ff, it’s a HP called The Shadow Of Death. It’s a time travel Severus & Harry mentor story I actually was quite proud of at the time. On AO3 it’s a Lucifer story called Redeeming The Devil in which Charlotte/Mom goes after Chloe and Lucifer has to step in so basically devil reveal and all of that. I think it’s one of my fav I wrote for this fandom.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: On ff, according to the stats, it’s Have a Drink Sweetheart but since it’s a collection of one shots I think that doesn’t really count so the next one is “Les Cicatrices du Temps” which is probably the one I’m most known for on the French side of things. It’s a HP story, again with time travel and again with Severus & Harry mentor, and it’s actually part of a trilogy. I haven’t finished part 3 yet but I don’t despair haha.

On AO3 it’s Invictus which is a hayffie story that explore a canon au in which Haymitch’s family never died, forcing him to become the puppet rather than the example. I’m not sure it’s the longest thing I’ve ever written because of the trilogy I just mentioned but it’s the longest in one setting and I’m proud of having finished it. It took a lot of work, an amazing beta, and it was a huge part of my life at one point because it covered I think... close to two years?

Favorite Story You Wrote: It’s difficult to choose because it depends of fandoms. For HP, I would say the Cicatrices trilogy for sure. For Hayffie... It’s so haaard to choose. I think it would be a tie between Invictus, Into That Good Night and April Showers for very different reasons. Invictus because of the commitment it took and also because, as I said, I associated to a specific time in my life. April Showers because I really enjoyed being able to explore post MJ in a more psychological way and it allowed me to explore more characters. I may or may not have fallen a bit truly in love with everlark while writing that one actually. And Into that Good Night because it was so out there, so full of self-indulging angst - like Haymitch being forced to kneel and beg - that I don’t think I would have ever written it if I hadn’t been in an angsty place myself and needed an out. But I’m happy with out it turned out and I don’t know... That one I do have a lot of tender feelings for, I guess.

How You Choose Your Titles: There’s no methods for me. Either I will take it directly from the work or I will try to find something like a theme in the work or I will look up quotes or I will look up songs... I don’t have a specific go-to method.

Complete: stories? I’m not sure how to see that. Everything is on ff and they say I’ve published 188 stories... I know I have two WIPs in SG and HP, 1 probably abandoned in hayffie, 2 currently being posted, HADS though that doesn’t really count does it? One Buffy I never closed but it’s also a os collection... Honestly I have no clue I would say 183? In those waters. I thought it was more haha. Though, I guess if you take HADS alone... XD HADS frightenes me okay? I try not to look at the number of chapters.

Incomplete: Well... There is part 3 of that HP trilogy I have been neglecting for a while. One chaptered story in Stargate I gave up on. The Speed Finding Soulmate story in hayffie I gave up on too although I think about that one often and never say never I might revisit it one day. And obviously the two currently being posted When It Rains It Pours and Katniss The Vampire Slayer.

I always try to have the finished product before posting because I hate WIPs. In the case of the Speed Finding Soulmate story for instance it was supposed to be a one shot and then I added more and more but if I had thought it through, I would have writtten the whole thing first. I have unfortunately a respectable WIP folder XD

If I can’t have the whole thing finished, like KTVS for instance, I try to be comfortably ahead so I never run out of chapters and I can keep a steady schedule.

Basically if I can’t keep to a posting schedule it stresses me out. If I don’t have the next chapter ready, it stresses me out because I don’t want to let anyone down. So... Yeah. I like having everything done before posting.

Which doesn’t answer the question I realize... So incomplete work, not counting os collections, I think might have 5 (2 of which are actually being posted but finished or ahead enough).

Do You Outline?: Never if I can help it. If I write down or break down a story, I will lose the will because it’s all there black on white. If the story is big or complicated I will take notes on a notebook and, maybe, maybe a loose list of events but mostly my way of writing is forge ahead and figure it out as you go. Mostly, the stories write themselves I just type. Everything ends up making sense by itself.

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: Well, I did finish E10 of KTVS so you know that’s good haha. I plan on writing E11 soonish. Right now I’m kind of in a writing slump of sorts. I should be finished the mind wipe story but I’m a bit tempted by a modern au involving a certain tattoo artist and this former army man... There’s a lot I want to write tbh.

Do You Accept Prompts?: Yes but you have to not be afraid of waiting a long LONG times. I sometimes publish prompts that have been submitted years ago. XD I have a lot of prompts and I tend to write the one that inspire me most but I do try to post the chronologically older ones first.

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited To Write: Well.. there is this idea of a tattoo artist Effie. It would be cute mostly I don’t think lots of conflict. Also the mind wipe story which I was working on before the crack happened, which is basically an au in which they experimented on Effie during MJ and wiped her mind clean so she doesn’t remember anything at all. And there are a few others wips in my folder that might be cool to revisit so idk. I’m telling you right now I haven’t written in 3 days I’m angsty to start again but I’m not sure what to tackle. I want a a tiny break with KTVS before attacking E11...  OH and there’s also a modern au inspired by a prompt about effie ptsd in a modern setting that I thikn would also take chapters but basically I was thinking bodyguard au and YEAH. Lots of angst.

#i got tagged #i had to remove the links #also when i don't write i babble #so yeah XD

[penchanteds]

gendrya fic recs

a non-comprehensive list of my favorite arya/gendry fics

required reading; or: arya and gendry fall in love today, tomorrow, and probably for the rest of eternity (modern au)

hope will put the colors in the sky by monroeslittle

the most iconic gendrya modern!au. reading this is an intitation into the gendrya fandom. so true to their characters and angsty and will probably hurt you but still so good. after this, you crave more fics where arya goes pub-hopping and gendry buys her cheap beer and they eat greasy pizza together on the floor of his apartment.

we can pretend that they don't know our name by scrubclub 

fulfills your wildest richgirl!arya x stableboy!gendry dreams. this fic is an absolute gift, a national literary treasure. please read it for the romance in the countryside aesthetic and the westerosi political intrigue. inspired by this timeless photoset.

re: weapons (and you) by scrubclub

these two are academic nerds who spend all their free time talking to each other about weapons and dating (and unfortunately not doing enough of the actual dating thing). the cutest fic told in a creative epistolary format. it has lots of archaelogical musings and sword euphemisms and absolutely delivers on the will-they-or-won’t-they; the correct answer is they definitely will.

the dating game by scrubclub

arya’s friends set her up on dates and have a terrible taste in men, but that’s okay because there’s good old gendry right around the corner if only both of them would open their eyes. there’s a group project involved and meddling friends and makes you wonder if it will really take an entire village to get these two together.

the waiting game by scrubclub

companion to “the dating game,” equally adorable, guaranteed to make you love gendry more if that was even possible. we love our somewhat clueless, unfairly attractive mechanic who doesn’t think he’s good enough for richgirl!arya.

pascal's triangle, revisited. by pentaghastly

in which arya thinks sansa and gendry are together behind her back, and gendry continues to be the clueless idiot with hearts in his eyes. fluffy and angsty and straight out of a teen romcom, just the way we like it.

insert here - a sentiment re: our golden years by pentaghastly

the fake!dating trope is a privilege and a right. 

five times in the bathroom by stutteringpeach

obviously arya and gendry can’t stay away from each other. in different bathrooms. at various family functions. repeatedly.

grrm wishes he wrote this (in-universe au)

arya of the thousand days of by drholland

[work in progress, ~200k words, but a masterpiece that is required reading!! cannot emphasize this enough] this fic is a triumph, a gendrya epic that honors the strength and heart of these two characters. set years post-series, reading this is a journey in and of itself. it is an intimate portrait of how gendry and arya are truly meant to be together, of how their love endures and conquers. brilliantly plotted and emotionally introspective, this is everything the game of thrones tv series wishes it were and grrm could only dream of writing the canon that these two deserve. 

all we know is falling by youcallitwinter

a beautiful take on gendry in the post-season two uncertainty.

you made a slow disaster out of me by i-revel-in-chaos

this fic will break you and make you want to curl up and wonder how two people so right for each other seem to have such horrible timing. arya returns from braavos and only gendry is there to hold her together. some days, he’s simply a bastard blacksmith in love with a rich highborn girl; other days, it’s not so simple and he let’s himself forget. 

i was looking for a breath of life by i-revel-in-chaos

in this one, arya dies and gendry is a mess in the aftermath. he is heartbroken and struggles to move on in her absence. this is grief told in multiple stages, before it seems to nearly consume gendry whole. it hurts to see a man so broken, but that’s his world without arya. 

when next to wild animals -- by arbitrarily

haunting, mesmerizing, dark and twisty; a third person, almost out-of-body narration of a girl and no one.

five times arya stark shared a bed with gendry by vixleonard

it is established canon that arya and gendry slept next to each other and that is of greatest importance; end of message.

gonna make this place your home by argyledpenguin

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) 

a series of five different au’s that range from arya and gendry growing up on the streets of king’s landing; a gendry stark character swap; and arya as a granddaughter of the lannisters.

a dark world aches (for a splash of the sun) by argyledpenguin

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

a four-part au about prince gendry, heir to the throne, and lady arya, his bethrothed, and the royalty!au we deserve because theirs is the fury (and fury burns).

another in-universe au by argyledpenguin

they are betrothed at an early age and slowly fall in love because of course they do, they always do. 

they belong together, again and again and again (other au)

dream until your dreams come true by crossingwinter 

softball and dreams and guess what they were soulmates. a soulmates fic where the soulmates don’t communicate and it gets angsty but it’s so obvious they love each other.

 misfits au by argyledpenguin

in which arya really is death and there’s superhuman powers and time travel and arya and gendry fall in love in this one too.

the dry season by arbitrarily

a stylistic masterpiece. the starks meets the grapes of wrath. arya finding justice when it bled her dry. gendry on a ranch, leaned against his worn pickup truck.

fixing the hole that season 8 left in us (s8 canon)

the fury by nymja

[work in progress, post-series] just read it. it will help you heal after the ending of season eight, mend some of the heartbreak that left with arya on the ship. the most renowned post-series fix-it fic, and a welcome antidote to the tragedy we were otherwise left with. 

sing more absurd by scintillio_coll

this fic has a lot of feelings. gendry learns how to lord and arya sails the seas, and eventually they find their way back to each other. in the years they’re apart, they become rebuilt as people and it’s so gratifying to read their reunion. gendry grows into his lordship in the way he knows best: forging nails to keep his world together. 

left for dead by nymja

award for best use of a “still rowing” punchline. bonus points for jon losing his mind over his little sister together with the random blacksmith he once met in a cave.

5 ways jon snow finds out about arya and gendry by vixleonard

another jon snow knows nothing fic because arya and gendry are the exact opposite of subtle.

1,500 miles by nymja

arya and the hound on the road to king’s landing and the comedy writes itself.

approval by nymja 

i will read any and all fic where the hound spectates his favorite idiot murder couple.

with the wild wolves around you by lady_lyannarose

post battle-fic that is so soft and tender and aches with beautiful prose: “he’ll love her anywhere she’ll let him.”

quiet birds in circled flight, soft stars that shine at night by Anonymous

arya reflects on surviving the long night and the life that comes after. 

originally posted 06/10/2019, last updated 06/30/2019

#gendrya #gendrya fic recs #arya x gendry #arya stark #gendry waters #can you tell how much time i've spent reading fic since season 8 started? #there's a lot of good fic that didn't make it on here so i might update this if more come to mind #when i say required reading i actually mean required reading #i am so obsessed with these two idiots in love it's not healthy anymore #hopefully this sheds some light on the must-reads in the fandom as well as some lesser known hidden gems

[mamahanu]

fanfic tag game

I was tagged by @dragonnan. Thanks, friend! I love these!

Questions:

Ao3 Name: HanukoYoukai

Fandoms: ~long inhale~ Well... I’ve been writing for a while. A long while. So... I’m just gonna follow dragonnan’s example. Bear with me. 

Currently writing fic for (that are posted/going to be posted):

Final Fantasy

MCU

Captain America

Spider-Man

Deadpool

Avatar: the Last Airbender

Currently finished and recently posted (yes... there are WIPs for these fandoms, and yes, I’m still working on them):

Dragon Prince

Merlin

Wrote fics years ago (and I may still revisit the fandom):

Glee (on FFN)

Harry Potter

Wrote 1 or 2 fics but won’t write more:

Diabolo

Weiss Kreuz

Fruits Basket (deleted... it was bad. I’m not sorry it’s gone)

Wolf’s Rain (see above)

Haven’t published any fics yet but have (or had) ideas ~cracks knuckles~:

Doctor Who 

The Legend of Zelda

How to Train Your Dragon

FireFly

Split/Glass (crossover idea... it’s outlined...)

Birds of Prey and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn

The Flash

DC

All up and coming plans are subject to change depending on my whims as a creator. ;-)

Number of fics: I’m only going to count the fics that are currently posted between Ao3 and FFN. 

Spider-Man/MCU/Captain America/Deadpool: 16 (this includes the crossover with Final Fantasy)

Dragon Prince: 1

Merlin: 4

Harry Potter: 1

Glee: 2

Diabolo: 2

Weiss Kreuz: 1

Total: 27

1. Fic you spent the most time on: Omertà hands down. Wow that fic... I mean, just posting it took 10 months. And I started writing it way before I posted the first chapter so, I think I spent about a year and some change on it. 

2. Fic you spent the least time on: So This is Christmas. I was a pinch hitter for an Irondad Secret Santa. I got this one written in a few hours due to the deadline. 

3. Longest Fic: Again, Omertà. The final word count on this bad boy is 154,668. 30 chapters. It was supposed to be 10 chapters and about 50,000 words. That did NOT happen. 

4. Shortest Fic:  I Like Oatmeal. The word count is 652 and it is easily the shortest thing I’ve ever written so far. This was just a fun little crack fic that broke me into the Merlin fandom. 

5. Most hits: In all honesty, this is a very difficult one to answer because as far as I can tell, FFN does not record hits very well. My two highest fics for Ao3 are  Omertà with 8008 to date, and You are in Control, I Disappear with 5450 to date (but it’s porn, so surprise, surprise.) On FFN, the fic with the highest hits (if I did my month-by-month math right) is The Trouble with Gossip (using the Ao3 link) with 6102 hits to date .

6. Most kudos:  Omertà again. Really, y’all should read it. It’s pretty good. ;-)

7. Most comment threads/ reviews: Want to guess? You got it! It’s Omertà! You all are so smart. :-)

8. Fave Fic you wrote: What? These are my babies. These are my blood, sweat, and tears. You want me to pick a favorite? You’re crazy. 

...

No, seriously, that’s a really hard question. I love them all and for very different reasons. So I’ll pick one that I haven’t mentioned yet. I’ll say Bear the Burden of Responsibility, which was the fic that broke me into the MCU/Spider-Man fandom (I’d been reading for forever, but this was the first one I wrote). It also was my intro to Irondad and Spiderson, which has been SO fun to write, and the community has been fantastic to be part of, in my opinion. 

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Hmm. Well, I’m already expanding on it, just slowly. I have a series called Take My Heart With You which is kind of an alternate reality/alternate universe series for Merlin. It mainly focuses on the gap between seasons 3 and 4, and events in season 4, but there is a relationship between Merlin and Percival that I’m playing around with. I also am touching on the friendship Merlin has with Gwen, so there may be elements from previous seasons added soon. I actually really enjoy that one, but I’ve lacked inspiration for it, so I haven’t been writing much in this universe lately. 

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning: How about both?

Love Runs Deeper than Blood

***SPOILERS! FOR MY READERS WHO WANT TO WAIT UNTIL I POST, SCROLL UNTIL YOU SEE THE NEXT BOLD TEXT!***

“Tarkik.”

“No.”

“Koko.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“Nanouk?”

Kyra laughed, bouncing the baby boy on her knee. “You have great love for that name,” she said, grinning. Bato shrugged, wiggling his fingers at the boy and making him giggle.

When he brought the child to Kyra, she broke down in tears before immediately thanking the Great Spirits. She fell in love with his soft hair and golden eyes, and she held him like she could never let him go. Bato understood. He was like that with the boy the whole journey back.

“It’s a good, strong, water tribe name,” Bato defended, grinning. “What about Toklo? For your father?”

“My brother was named for my father already,” Kyra replied. “Maybe Tonraq?”

Bato made a face. “No,” he replied, shaking his head.

“Why not?”

“When I went Ice Dodging, the boy manning the main sail was named Tonraq. He’s the reason I have a scar on my boat,” Bato said, darkly. Kyra laughed.

“Well, there’s always Soomool,” she offered. Bato shrugged. They had been going over names for two days now. Even Kya and Hakoda offered input, with baby Sokka in tow. The new boy was fascinated with the chief’s son. Bato hoped they would become good friends. Kyra handed the boy to him and he lifted him up so their noses could touch. The boy went a little cross-eyed, making Bato laugh.

“You know what his eyes remind me of?” he asked Kyra.

“The sun?” she asked, grinning.

Bato shook his head. “No. Well, yes, I suppose. But they look like the sky during a storm, when lightning strikes.”

“You mean when the sky turns to gold for a moment?” Kyra asked, thoughtfully. Bato nodded. Kyra hummed in thought.

“What about Kallik?”

*** OKAY ALL CLEAR***

Story Idea - Spider-Man Villain/Anti-Hero AU:

Plot: What if Peter stopped the convenience store thief instead of letting him run away? Uncle Ben is still alive, and that major guilt he felt that acted as a catalyst for him to become Spider-Man and look out for the little guy isn’t there anymore. Instead Spidey is a wrestler, then a “hero” who asks for donations to his paypal, and then a mercenary. All his bad guys are now neutral contacts, and he frequently teams up with DP, Moon Knight, and Black Cat (among others), working for cold, hard cash. He drives Iron Man crazy, he baffles Captain America, and Black Widow has a soft spot for him (because she gets that double life). 

It’ll be fun when I get to writing it. I’ve got some semblance of an outline. ;-)

Tagged: I’ll tag @silentsaebyeok, @reachingforaspark, @blondsak, @jro616 and @kitcat992, as well as anyone else who wants to play. And if I tagged you and you don’t, no pressure! <3

#asks #tag games #dragonnan #friends #fun #writing #fanfics

[clownfuckin-around]

Good Fortune (Soulmate AU) Chapter 3: Paradigm Shift

The next day, there was another child reported missing. Thomas Hoffman, only child of Linda and David Hoffman, went to bed early Sunday evening only to have disappeared by morning. Angel reads about it in the Derry Herald, a grimace playing on her face as she sips at her coffee. It tasted more bitter than usual. Derry more or less proceeded with its business as it often did, morbidly choosing to disregard the string of aberrations rather than address them as usual. The police did their due as much as they could, or as much as they could be bothered to. The police, consisting of Derry's own citizens, weren't shining pinnacles of justice just because they wore a badge. They were just as low and shady and indifferent as the rest, the only difference was they carried guns and nightsticks. 

She’d mostly forgotten the unease of the night previous by this point. Angel had found that, much like any other nightmare, this one would fade from her mind little more than an hour after she rolled out of bed in the morning. The worst of it was mostly an afterthought now, the only thing lingering in the depths of her subconscious as she got ready for work being that ever-persistent niggling feeling of confusion over what she saw. As she walked her commute and began the early hours of her shift she found herself trying to justify it with the most likely scenario, that she and the kids had simply stumbled onto a scary movie of some kind, maybe a b-list title that wasn’t well known finding its way onto local access or something. But that voice she’d heard behind her… It was like a ghost of some kind. She wasn’t even particularly sure how much she believed in ghosts, or the supernatural in general, but it was hard to shake all the same. She shivers, adopting a smile when a patron comes up to hand their books to her for checkout. The whole thing was strange, and certainly disarming. She tried to forget it entirely as she went through the day, thinking that it must have certainly been a one time occurrence. She hoped, anyway.

 As the day reaches its halfway point, Angel sighs with a yawn and clocks out to take her lunch break. Walking out the green double doors to the library, she’s greeted by the gentle chill of the wind guiding her towards the courtyard across the way. She looks both ways at the roadway before her, discerning the safety of her path and then she continues on her way, meandering on light, carefree feet until she reaches the beacon of the town monument, a towering spire carved with names of the fallen from an old, great war. Though its purpose is a grim reminder of those that had been lost, she always looked on it with a sort of comfort. It was one of those things she’d always recalled seeing in the town as she’d grown up, a remarkable edifice that spoke of the town’s storied history. She liked to sit on its stone ridges at lunch break, idly tracing the etched epitaph with her finger while she read or wrote or doodled in her little notebook. Angel truthfully didn’t eat very much during those breaks, choosing instead to occupy what little free time she had with whatever productive activity came into her mind. It didn’t matter very much; she could eat later at home anyway, and she found that her drive for creativity thrived most in the fresh air, so she was inclined to take advantage of it.

 When she comes up to the stone monument she smoothes down her skirt and carefully takes a seat. Setting her lunch box down (an old, dented one, boasting the poster art for The Empire Strikes Back), she opens her notebook to the next empty page and taps the tip of her pencil against the paper in thought. She starts to sketch the tree on the path before her; an old, majestic pine stretching skyward into the blue, even more impressive in height than that of the memorial. Its branches are flush with rich viridescent quills, fanning out in tiers that sway in the gentle wind. She’s studious in her scrutiny, looking up every so often to scan the details of the branches, making quick, sharp swipes with her pencil that scritch against the paper to depict pine needles. Her eyes start to travel down the intricate veins and roots of the tree trunk until they fall upon the ground, and her gaze is met with an unusual sight. 

 There, laying against the base of the tree is a plucked bouquet of sunflowers, and she’s perplexed as to how she hadn’t noticed them until now. After regarding them for a moment, she finds herself on her feet again, and she gingerly walks the path up to the tree. As she draws closer, they start to look visibly more dead and wilted, almost as though they’d been lying there for days, even weeks. She cocks her head in confusion, observing the sickly green stems and the way the frail petals droop sadly against the grass. She finds herself hit with a pang of pity for them, and with gentle hands she scoops them up off the ground. She turns the bouquet in her fingers to study them. They feel so fragile, almost as though they might crumble into dust if she was too rough with them. She wonders if they had been left for someone. Surely, if they were, they wouldn’t have been there so long, right? Somebody would have taken them? She looks around, casting a quick glance on her surroundings. There’s nary a soul to be found other than the occasional passing streetcar, and all she can hear is the rustling of tree leaves around her. 

 Pausing, she gets up again, taking the sunflowers into her arms before walking back to her seat on the monument. She sits down with a heaving sigh and gives them another long, studious look of contemplation. Despite their lack of vitality, she finds them the slightest bit beautiful in their wilt and decay, and she admires how the shriveled petals droop like hair soaked in the rain. She seals them within the protection of her notebook, smoothing down the cover with a careful hand. The flowers, she decided, were enough of a pleasant discovery that she didn’t mind keeping them, and she’d feel bad leaving them behind anyway. Break was almost over; she supposed she should be going back inside now. She gets up, taking her lunchbox with her, and clocks back in to finish her shift. She doesn’t notice the eyes travelling over her form in longing, brilliant amber suns glinting with joy hidden within the emerald needles when they see her accept the gift that had been left for her, a token of love and a promise of protection. Its resonant purr harmonizes with the trees and trilling crickets, and for one blissful second, Derry is safe and content. 

 The rest of her shift was relatively ordinary. Her days at the library tended to follow a pretty cut and dry routine, and it was relatively easy to follow after about a month of religious adherence. She would start by taking the front desk for a couple hours of checkout duty and then take her lunch break. After that she’d sort through any books that had made their way into the return pile, put them back in their proper places, tidy up any messy bookshelves and then spend the majority of the rest of her shift assisting with checkout again. She would then cap off the day by taking a broom to the floors, dusting and wiping down all the bookshelves before clocking out for the evening. The latter half of the day tended to pass more slowly than the former, as her only occupation here was simply waiting for a patron to come up with their book selections, and pickings were slim in the way of frequenters to the establishment during these lazy afternoon hours. She would tell the occasional rowdy child to pipe down and pretend to look busy whenever the librarian manifested in the room, but beyond that she often struggled with ways to pass the time. She almost looked forward to cleanup at the end of the day, as pushing around a broom to sweep away errant dust on the floor was far more engrossing than sitting at a desk and checking out books for a bunch of belligerent and thankless schoolchildren. At the very least, she granted, it still beat working the Bassey Park fairgrounds. Anything was better than the Bassey Park fairgrounds though.

 Coming home after another day in the books, she kicks off her shoes and immediately adjourns to her bedroom with a sigh, setting her bag down on her bed so she can undress for the evening. She throws on a pair of pajama pants and an old band shirt (announcing the 1985 tour dates of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning), her eyes wandering idly over the eclectically decorated walls of her bedroom as she does so. She throws her clothes in the hamper by the door of her closet, stuffing them down in the overladen basket as much as she was able. She desperately needed to do laundry, but she’d been putting it off lately just as she’d been putting off everything else. Call it a symptom of her grief from Georgie’s recent disappearance. That’s what she told herself, anyway.

 She starts to make her way out of her room so she can head to the kitchen for dinner, but she stops at the threshold of the doorway when she hears something hit the floor behind her. She turns and finds her purse leaning over the edge of her mattress, and on the hardwood floor below, the notebook with the dead flowers peeking out of it. Bending to pick it up off the floor, she flips open to the page containing the wilted sunflowers and delicately extracts them from the paper. She needed something else, a heavier book to house them for proper pressing. She retrieves a sizable selection from her bookshelf, a novel of respectable length detailing the fallout of a global pandemic and its impact on the society of the remaining survivors, her favorite being a kind and considerate deaf-mute who was meant to be the leader of the stand against the enemy. It was a book inherited from her parents, and one she’d read in grade school much to the chagrin of observing teachers. It was one of the first in her collection, and a book she often revisited from time to time. 

 She opens the book, savoring the sound of the spine’s creak and the old, musty smell of the pages when she leafs through the first few chapters. Her pace starts to hasten just a little as she tries to find a suitable place for the flowers, though careful not to tear the fragile paper. She notices something poking out of one of the pages.

 “Oh shit, I completely forgot about this!” She takes it out and sets the book down.

 It’s a concert ticket she bought back in August. Bad Religion was touring for their third album and one of the dates happened to be in town so she pounced on the opportunity to see them live, putting in a mail order at the Rite-Aid near her house the second she got word. It was that Friday night at the Derry Riverside Terrace, and she’d paid for the ticket with what was left of her first check from the library. She must have forgotten it ever since… Well, ever since Georgie went missing. If she remembered correctly, the ticket came in the mail not a day or two after, just shortly after his disappearance. After a moment of sad reflection she places the ticket on her bedside table so as not to forget again and returns to what she was doing, handily selecting a passage out of the book to deposit the sunflowers to before she closes it with finality. She places the book back on her bookshelf and shuts off the light, stepping out and closing the door behind her. Looks like she was going to a concert on Friday.

 ~~~~

 The next day had started out predictably the same as the last. The work week was consistent and formulaic in its structure; that is, Angel woke up early every morning, sometimes entertaining visits from the rambunctious Losers. She’d get dressed and make her commute to work; she would put in the hours at the library from about eight in the morning to four in the afternoon, come home, eat dinner, and go to bed. Sometimes, if she was willing to neglect her sleep schedule in the name of leisure, she’d take an extra hour for TV time, sorting through the various channels for anything of interest while she lounged lazily on the couch and pawed through a bag of cheese doodles or something else equally lacking in nutritious substance. Today didn’t offer much to keep her attention so far, save for an incident early in the morning involving a loud, shrieking child disturbing the peace because his mother wouldn’t let him check out the same book about dinosaurs for the third time in a month. She’d diffused the situation rather easily, assuaging the boy’s hysteria by recommending another book of similar subject matter that not only included more pictures but presented them in popup form, which he accepted with glee characteristic of a five year old child. Everything else proceeded as normal.

 She takes to the wagon of returns after coming back from lunch break, ready to make her way through the pile of books at a leisurely pace so she can eat through the next two hours with ease, take her first fifteen, and meander through the monotony of the coming afternoon. She looked forward to the weekend, and more specifically that Friday evening, finding now that the incentive of a concert to attend made the prospect of a full work week seem much less daunting. Though it had just barely started, the promise of a chance to unwind after all that had happened was enough to keep her going, and she attended to her duties with care and diligence so as to properly earn her keep, knowing that a job well done made the satisfaction of relaxing much more rewarding in the end. She continues through the pile in her cart, walking along the rows and placing titles back in their designated places, regarding each book with halfhearted curiosity when she does so. 

 Her task takes her all over the library and back again, replacing books of all different kinds from novellas to history books to biographies and collections of poetry. With all of about five books left in her pile she’s just about done, and when she shelves the next book on the cart her eyes fall on a black binder below it marked “Local Census Records (c. 1750-1850)”. She raises an eyebrow. She didn’t know the library kept things like this, it seemed strange to say the least. Out of curiosity, she opens it up for a moment, leafing through the pages quickly so as not to be caught. Seemed fairly standard; it documented things such as the names, ages, and races of people in a given household as well as population data for the town of Derry in general. She closes it up again. Where would she even put something like this? She had an idea of where, but she wanted to make sure.

 She approaches the librarian cautiously, who is engrossed in work of her own at her desk. 

             “Yes, Ms. Graider?” She says, without looking up.

 “I--Oh.” She stumbles. She holds up the folder. “I just… Wasn’t sure where to put this back.”

 “Archives.” She says, squinting at some fine print in front of her. She nods wordlessly to her left side. 

 “Oh, uh… Okay. Thanks.”

 The librarian doesn’t dignify her with a response, so she clears her throat quietly and moves on. 

 The archives were a darkened, moody place on the far side of the library, a place she quite frankly feared to go. She’d been meaning to go back there just to see what lay beyond the corridor, as curiosity was inevitable in the presence of the unknown, but her constant occupation in attending to other duties kept her from indulging that curiosity in the time she had worked here so far. She didn’t particularly mind, but now she couldn’t exactly avoid going down there. She abandons her cart for the time being, and with binder in hand she makes her way toward the staircase. Trudging up the small flight of stairs into the adjoining room, she makes her way down from another set of steps around the corner, following them into a dimly lit space lined wall to wall with shelves. There are rows of bins on each shelf, all marked with numbered labels. She walks through them, squinting in the darkness at the tags and trying in vain to discern where exactly she might put the binder back. She really should have asked the librarian, but she completely spaced. She seemed really busy anyway, and Angel found it best not to bother her anymore than she needed to.

 She couldn’t make heads or tails of the labels, and as time went on she was beginning to get a little self conscious of how long she’d been down there. If only it wasn’t so dark… She finds herself wishing she’d brought a flashlight, but just as she’s about to admit defeat and make her way back to the librarian’s desk she hears something clatter against the floor a few feet away. Pausing, she cautiously rounds the corner to investigate, and her eye catches on something glinting on the polished hardwood. It's something that twinkles and begs for attention in the black, luring her toward its beckoning light, and she wonders what it could possibly be. She walks toward it carefully and slowly, and as she closes the distance its light dwindles like that of a mirage on sweltering pavement. She nestles the binder in the crook of one arm and bends down to pick up the wayward object. It's cool and smooth against her fingers and upon closer inspection she comes to realize that it’s a marble. Though she can’t make out much detail in the light of the room, she admires its golden color and the way it glows almost warmly in the palm of her hand, and when she looks up she realizes where she’s standing. In front of her, labeled very clearly, is a bin marked “Census Archives.” She didn’t know how on earth she managed to miss that. She sighs and opens the bin, slipping the binder back inside. She regards the marble in her other hand, and then after a moment of deliberation slips it into her pocket. A good luck charm perhaps. She heads back upstairs to finish the rest of the returns. Once she is gone, the papers in the archives rustle feverishly like a great gust of wind has swept through the room, and the sound is almost like that of an insect, chittering and chirupping with excitement.

 ~~~~

             The next day goes by relatively quickly, and before she knows it, the work week is more than halfway over. She drinks in the beautiful scenery on the walk home from the library on Wednesday, admiring how the cheerful blue in the sky peeks through a sea of vivid orange, the way all the trees dance to the rhythm of the wind’s gentle whispers. Crisp leaves crunch beneath the heels of her Doc Martens as she strolls down Kansas Street, crossing over to Witcham when the streets intersect and continuing on her way home. She passes Derry Elementary as she always does, casting a less than fond glance on the place she’d practically grown up in. Despite her best efforts, faint memories start to return as she regards the familiar brick building with a wistful stare. She remembers the name-calling and the merciless derision; she remembers her first day in kindergarten where a mean boy pissed all over her arts and crafts project and made her cry her eyes out. She remembers all the rumors and the whispers of her peers when she was older, who made up whatever ugly or unsavory gossip they dared and passed it off as the gospel truth without knowing the first thing about who she actually was. She remembers how she made it through pretending not to care, and how much it all still ate away at her self esteem regardless. The way it affected her and her overall wellbeing, manifesting in an onset of depression during her childhood that only worsened over the years. But then, just as quickly as the school fades from view over her shoulder, those memories thankfully start to ebb away again, retreating back into the recesses of her mind where they had come from in the first place. She blinks back a couple bitter tears in her eyes all the same, keeping her eyes rooted to the ground now as she counts each groove crossing underneath her feet on the sidewalk. It was fine, she was okay. She supposed today was just another one of those days where these kinds of thoughts hit harder than they usually did. She raises her chin to look to the sky again but instead finds herself hit in the face by a low hanging tree branch. She stops dead, cursing into the empty street.

 “Ow, shit!” She rubs her nose tenderly with a groan. Suddenly, all thoughts from before are completely gone. “Should really watch where you’re going, genius.” Opening her eyes again, they fall on the offending limb in front of her, an arm belonging to a great red maple tree. Several small branches stick out from the main appendage, and she notes something dangling off the one most adjacent to her line of sight.

 A ring, a silver one, tarnished and old with a chipped band hangs there, just waiting for gravity to take it plummeting to the concrete with another well-placed gust of wind, almost inviting her to pluck it right off the tree branch like a steel-forged fruit. She can’t deny that she’s most certainly tempted despite her bewilderment, and after a moment she relents, gently taking it down to examine it. There appears to be some kind of stone in the middle, an iridescent gem she can only assume is a fire opal of some kind, gleaming brilliantly against the reflected light of the sun. She looks around. Did this… Did this belong to someone? Would it be bad if she took it? She wouldn't even know where to take it if it did; Derry didn't exactly have a lost and found. For curiosity’s sake, she slips the band over her ring finger to discern the size and it slides effortlessly into place, resting daintily above her knuckle. A perfect fit. Something in her head tells her to take the ring, take it home, keep it, and despite her best efforts she cannot argue with such an instinct. She slides the ring off once more and drops it into her pocket before continuing on her way, ignoring any pangs of guilt seeking to worm their way into her conscience. 

 It really was strange. She kept thinking about it every time her fingers closed around the cool glass marble in her pocket, her thumb rolling over the spherical surface in thought while she laid on her couch at home the next day. She thought about it every time she let her eyes fall on the book sitting on the shelf by her nightstand or played with the ring on her finger, the one she’d taken from the maple branch the afternoon before. Ever since that incident on Sunday, she had started to get the vague sense that something had changed. Life was the same as it ever was, but she was getting the feeling that there was something amiss, almost like something might have attached itself to her, something might be following her around. It had all started with the sunflowers. Truth be told, she had at first thought nothing of it, of finding them. She had assumed they'd been left for someone else and were merely a spurned token of affection, left to rot beneath the branches of that old, great pine until they decomposed into nothing under the heat of the sun. But the next day when she'd found the marble, that feeling had begun to settle in a little more. It might have seemed like a kind of odd coincidence at first, but the discovery of the opal ring that Wednesday afternoon had made her feel like it was more of a pattern than anything else.

 So it left her to wonder; just what were the intentions of this thing, be it a person or something else entirely, whose attention she had captured? What were its intentions, and what might it do next? She seriously doubted that it was a person; the circumstances of the things she had found were just too peculiar, like she had simply kept stumbling into the right place at the right time. Despite her dubious grasp on the supernatural she always had the vague sense that Derry was affected by something beyond the ordinary, what with all the rumors and disappearances, and she believed that it was in play now more than ever. Based on what she had heard and what she had seen, she simply couldn't afford to rule out the possibility. Though she didn't quite understand the motives of this enigmatic force, she didn't particularly get the sense that it bore any ill will towards her. In fact, if these offerings were any indication, it could even be argued that it had a fondness for her, whatever it was, and might be looking out for her safety. Something that likely challenged whatever force of evil lurked within this town. A guardian angel of sorts. And with all the recent disappearances and general feeling of unease settling over everyone's heads, she could very much use a guardian angel right now. She found it confusing, but she didn't take it for granted. Good fortune in Derry was hard to come by.

#pennywise #good fortune #chapter three #paradigm shift #it 2017 #it chapter one #daddywise

[cozyteez]

Hii, do u have any tips for writing fics?? I’m so used to writing research reports, lab reports, and formal essays that creative writing has become something I really struggle with. I guess it’s having the freedom to write anything and not knowing how to make sure it’s not corny. I tried outlining a fic one time but it was so frustrating LOLOLOL. Anyways, I love your ateez fics. They are so cute and creative!!

hi !!!! im like rlly touched u asked me and i feel u actually that's why i started this blog; im a biomedical engineering major so as u can imagine i dont get to take much creativity with what i write because writing papers and reports and proposals are so formulaic and u gotta stick to the facts so that being said i actually tested out of all my college writing classes so all my writing knowledge is from ap english in hs lmao so take it w many grians of salt

the #1 thing i do when im feeling sort of unmotivated about a story or maybe like like dragging myself thru mud to write it is to just write the "fun" part first. to me the fun part is usually the climax or maybe the like the "wouldn't it be cute if..." moment that came to mind that inspired me to write a blurb in the first place! then usually once i sort of get the ball rolling on that my brain will help me out and keep the momentum going by thinking of maybe "oohh okay maybe this can happen next" or "oohh and what if this led up to it" or !! just stop there !! something ive learned from my mx writing blog which is like a year older than this one was that you don't owe anybody context especially for a blurb so maybe it really is just 3 sentences of a cute moment u thought of like its whatever ur the one writing it

now for longer fics im going to be honest jongho's first love is my first and only completed attempt at a multi stage coherent story. and that was fueled purely based on the fact that when i look at jongho he just gives off sort a really excited sort of innocence that i wanted to further explore and personify through the idea of him experiencing love for the first time but even then i really struggled w the last part because that's where my personal experience stopped and i had basically nothing to go off of because ive never been in love so i did have to kinda wait for ideas to come to me. for prince yunho i have posted 4 chapters but have all the way through chapter 15 drafted. and by drafted i mean it's like 3 sentences of the overall idea. again, the fic was inspired by the duality between yunho's on stage vs. off stage persona where if somebody was to watch an ateez performance for the first time they may find him very serious and maybe even intimidating but atiny would know that his off stage persona (the one he choses to create for us anyways) is very silly and happy-go-lucky and approachable, which is why prince yunho is seen as narameth's strong and stoic pride and joy but in reality he's sort of clumsy but means well. so i let that and his relationship w xenia who is an original character (OC) sort inspire stories or interactions that i force into a plot line. so for example i believe when i first started thinking abt a prince au for yunho i thought "wouldn't it be funny if the first scene started out painting him as this strong and serious man and then cut to him choking on food or something" and that sort of inspired the idea of him being nervous abt the speech and then xenia came out of that because he needed a complementary character imo since i knew he was gonna be kind of one dimensional and then his backstory with xenia inspired other ideas and then one day i was sad and wanted a hug so that inspired a piece of the plot line and so on. so basically: let an idea or even an aspect of somebody come to you and just write it down, let it inspire other ideas. and don't be afriad to completely start over. i wrote a whole chapter for prince yunho and deleted the whole thing because i hated where it was going and started back from scratch. sometimes you have to revisit things abt your characters and their relationships with others to get a new idea. there's a story in every person and every relationship you just have to find the clues

here's an example of what i mean by "write the good part first". this is typically what the very first draft of a blurb will look like for me

((( blah blah blah basically its raining and y/n is sad bc wooyoung broke her heart two weeks ago idk maybe go into it maybe not)))

y/n is all sad and feeling sorry for themselves on the couch theyre past crying but still feel pretty shitty plus it's storming and cold outside. great

there's a knock on their door ofc they have the cliche "who could that be moment" even tho they lowkey know. we literally all know

so yeah wooyoung's there soaked in rain eyes puffy y/n thinks he's been crying

-this would be the "fun part". i'll fix all that garbage up top later or maybe even change it completely idk yet-

"y/n? i - uh. hi"

he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck while you crossed your arms over your chest, fighting the urge to close the door and walk away for good

"hi? really wooyoung? is that the best you can do?"

(((wooyoung does smth idk)))

"well i just -"

"you just what? showed up here in the rain after you broke my heart and didn't even bother to tell me why? this isn't some romance movie, asshole. you can't just come here late at night and expect to find me all sad and willing to take you back because i'm not. so say what you're gonna say so i can get back to my life"

your face was red hot and you trying very hard, probably too hard, to fight back tears. ((( idk talk some more abt y/n's emotions then what wooyoung is doing)))

"look, i made a mistake i-"

"oh my god! why did i know you were gonna do this. i just knew as soon as i saw you-"

"will you let me get a fucking word in!?"

well that was new. in the entire time you'd known him he had never raised his voice at you like that, your shock causing you to immediately close your mouth and fold your arms back into yourself (((make y/n seem more scared))) noticing your reaction, he lowered his voice back down and instictively reached for you, heartbroken at the way you jerked away from his touch

"please y/n, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to raise my voice it's just that i need to tell you that i regret what i did i regret breaking up with you so fucking much and you don't have to take me back i just need you to know how much you meant, no, mean to me. i still love you, a lot. there's not a day, an hour, a minute, or a single second that goes by that i'm not thinking of you"

"then why?"

your voice was small and wavering, your tears now dangerously close to spilling down your cheeks

"why what?"

"why did you break up with me like that, just all of a sudden"

he pushed his hands into his pockets and looked away

"because that morning i woke up before you and when i looked at you asleep next to me, i saw myself spending the rest of my life with you and it scared the shit out of me"

"why did it scare you?"

"because i just figured you didn't feel the same. i was selfish and wanted to save myself heartbreak down the line and so i told you i didn't wanna be with you anymore, but that was a mistake because it turns out i can't function with out you, i can't breathe without you i can't live without you, y/n. i shouldn't have let you go"

tears were now freely flowing down your face (((okay brain no work anymore y/n kisses him duh and then ofc they make up wooyoung prob says smth cheesy and y/n is like ur lucky i love you or smth ahaha the end)))

tl;dr -> don't be afraid to get messy. creative writing is not nearly as structured as academic/scientific writing. write whatever u want first it can even be the middle of a huge fight scene or some dialogue u think is funny. if ur stuck read what you have or maybe just take a break and let an idea come to you. a story doesnt have to come together til the very end so it can be as messy and out of order as u want until u wanna post it. also i would always use the third person omniscient point of view for a longer story like a chaptered fic as a default and only change if it would impact the plot in a negative way. this is where the narrator knows what every character is thinking/feeling and im p sure a teacher in middle school told me it was the easiest to write and follow

#sorry i got carried away #also rmbr how i was like my brain cant stop imagining dramatic and disgusting love confessions in the rain? i meant like that #it's so chessy ik 😔 bleh #amanda talks