#writing fic should never feel like a fucking competition

[star-girl69]

As much as I love overprotective Clarisse which believe me I DO😍😍 am I the only one who kinda wants to see a protective reader if something happens to Clarisse or even Ivy?!

I feel like Clarisse may just sit back and be Yh that’s my girl 🤭

Literally kicking my feet and giggling while writing this

Also I love your writing so much it’s so goodddd I check my phone for any new posts all the time and scream when you do

TYSMMMMM BAE ILY!!!!!! been in a writing slump recently. someone else please write a mind bogglingly good clarisse fic to inspire me again. lord give me strength…

forget the fact this is 2 days late. thank y’all 🙏🙏

anyways officially adding danny to the perfect family bc I DO WHAT I WANT!!!!!!!!!!!

ok so imagine this

clarisse is participating in some sort of contest

like

idk roman gladiators LMAOOOO

but basically it’s like a big tournament? and yk she’s destroying eating it up cooking, whatever you will

finally she gets to like the semi-finals and atp everyone kinda knows she has it in the bag

her opponents are scared

(trust an underground betting ring was formed. everyone who bet on clarisse is thanking the gods and everyone who didn’t is shaking in their boots)

clarisse is happy bc you and the twins (danny and ivy)

are sitting right in the front row cheering her on

and she got a wonderful good luck kiss from you

so not only is she happy and thinking about that but also she’s convinced that she’ll win just bc she got a kiss from you

so the fight starts, ivy is genuinely SCREECHING at the top of her lungs she’s so me she can’t be normal about anything ever

and you and danny are just regularly cheering for her 😭

eventually someone behind you tells ivy to shut up

YOU WHIP AROUND BC WTF???

harshest death glare in the universe. like even zeus would be a little scared.

ivy doesn’t even notice she’s chill

the other person quickly shuts the fuck up.

then you turn back to watch clarisse and the fights just starting, the other dude is scared and knows his ass barely stands a chance

she’s having fun pummeling him

ugh fight scenes are hard to write

so eventually she tosses his ass to the floor

“GO MOM GO GO GO BEAT HIS ASS MOM BEAT. HIS. ASS.”

“IVY STOP FUCKING SWEARING”

and this dude, who’s laid on the ground, who knows he’s cooked, decides the best option is to grab some dirt and throw it in clarisse’s face

and no one was prepared for this

like clarisse was standing over him with her spear at his throat, smile on her face, everyone knew he was done for- THEN HE DECIDES TO PLAY DIRTY AND DO THIS???

like everyone thought clarisse had it in the bag

the rules for this competition were that you’re not allowed to use anything but your person and/or pre-approved weapon(s)

NOT EVEN CLARISSE WAS EXPECTING IT

SO SHES DISTRACTED BY THE FREAKING DIRT IN HER FACE

SO WHEN THIS BITCH KICKS HER SHE GOES DOWN

DEAD SILENT!!!!!!!

EVERYONE GASPS!!!!!!!

whispers in the crowd… “oh bro is cooked…”

(sorry i’m obsessed w saying cooked rn)

and he is cooked

but by someone unexpected.

clarisse is wiping the dirt off of her face swallowing her shame she can’t believe she got distracted and let herself fall she should have saw it coming but suddenly she hears someone screaming

she opens her eyes and sees you menacingly walking towards this dude, who’s still on the ground and scrambling away

and what’s funny it you’re yelling at him like a mother would

the crowd is giggling…

“THAT IS AGAINST THE RULES. WERE YOU NEVER TAUGHT MANNERS??? WERE YOU NEVER TAUGHT DECENCY??? SHAME ON YOU SHAME ON YOUR PARENTS SHAME SHAME SHAME”

clarisse is literally sitting there mouth dropped open when you grab his ear and he HOWLS

dragging him back towards clarisse, he’s kicking and screaming and literally CRYING

“HELP HELP HELP ME HELP SHE CANT SO THIS SHE CANT I DIDNT DO ANYTHING WRONG”

“YES THE FUCK I CAN YOU BROKE THE FUCKING RULES NOW APOLOGIZE YOU LAWLESS SWINE”

“I DIDNT DO ANYTHING PLEASE I DIDNT”

one of the apollo kids who organized the event is looking around (kinda enjoying it) but mostly very scared

“technically you did break the rules… sorry pal…”

“PLEASE PLEASE HELP ME”

obviously, this is the hottest thing clarisse has ever seen in her life.

she’s sitting back on her palms, watching in utter amazement, trying not to bite her lip

someone loving clarisse… that gets her going

someone loving clarisse enough to PROTECT HER??? she’s about to explode. EXPLODE. she’s never needed you so bad in her life LMAOOOO 😭

and this bitch is STILL refusing to apologize

like damn it’s not that hard… it’s not like you have any pride left to speak of you just got dragged around by the ear 😭😭 bro you’re cooked just apologize and get out while you can

AND YOU’RE GETTING FED UP WITH IT TOO

“hey, dumbass, why don’t you look at the stands?”

you point, and everyone follows your finger.

ivy is a literal cartoonish whirl of her pink t-shirt and the white shorts with the little trees on them

danny is holding her back (with ease, might i add he’s strong as fuck 💪)

“i’ll let her out.”

“I DIDNT DO ANYTHING-”

“LET HER OUT”

he barely escapes that attack.

when you finally call ivy off of her attack, she stands next to clarisse, literally growls at the dude, before hugging clarisse

clarisse is still on the ground in utter shock.

she can’t keep her eyes away from you and ivy. she can’t get rid of the GLOWING feeling in her chest

is this… what it’s like… to be loved?

WAHHHHHH WAHHHHHHHH BITCH NOW IM THE ONE CRYING NOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭

danny eventually walks over and helps her up

then they all watch as you smile sweetly at this very traumatized dude and ask if he’s ready to apologize

“IMMSORRUOHGOEE IMSORHR ESEBIMS YORUUE”

(i’m sorry oh gods im sorry i’m sorry”

then you walk over to clarisse, rolling your eyes and mumbling about bad parenting, girl she pounces on you.

kisses you so hard in front of everyone

ivy and danny are hugging each other and shielding each other’s eyes, screaming, begging for you two to stop

“y/n” she breathes as she pulls away “you are… the most amazing mother, the most amazing girlfriend, and literally the love of my fucking life.”

literally twirling your hair “omg baeeeee you’re too sweet 🤭”

(y’all don’t end up leaving her cabin for a LONG time.)

after this clarisse definitely sort of realizes a whole new side of your relationship. seeing you publicly defend her like that, publicly care about her, love her, omg she is going crazy for you!!!

after this incident she definitely stops calling you her gf.

gives you a really pretty ring she got one of the hephaestus kids to make, starts calling you her wife

and nobody better have a problem w that lol or else they got two ares killing machines, one feral attack dog, and a literal mother who is not afraid to drag you by your ear.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

[ventismacchiato]

42 behind the lens — curtain call !

epilogue

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

It’s at the times between recording scenes where you really get a glimpse at your lover.

His sweat stained hair and tear stained cheeks from a rather intense scene never get old. You were feeling rather fond as he made his way over to you, falling into your director’s chair and heaving a heavy breath. The only one other than you allowed to sit in it.

For a mere moment, you both simply look at each other. You guys were on break so a few conversation topics come to mind, it wasn’t often you guys got to speak as lovers rather than coworkers during work. And while they’re all things you’d like to talk to Scaramouche about, you realize you don’t need to force conversation with him.

There’s a hue of weariness that shows in Scara’s eyes, but you can tell that he’s happy. He’s doing what he’s been striving to do for all his years at university, so of course he is.

You search his dark eyes for his thoughts, too. When your eyes meet Scara’s he let’s out a tired smile.

“I missed you,” he easily says. The words come out easier than they would’ve years ago.

Your heart skips a beat, even years later.

“How? We’ve been working together all day,” you say.

“Do I need a reason to miss the person I love?” Scara scoffs, looking away from you to study the script he brought with him.

It isn’t the first time Scaramouche had told you that he loves you, but it’s never stopped holding the same weight it did the first time he’d ever said it.

It’s a rare type of love. The kind that exists so rarely for people in this industry and that lead lives similar to your guys’.

His loves makes you feel alive everyday. And Scara should know it, you should tell him more often—even if it’s rather dramatic for midday on set for their most recent project. It’s something you’d bring up at night that you two could laugh about in bed. Even if it catches Scara off guard.

But Scaramouche’s love caught you off guard, too, and every second you got the privilege to spend with him was a gift.

And as you stare at him, fiddling with the sleeves of his costume and eyebrows scrunched as he mouths his lines, you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow heavy.

“I suppose you don’t,” you reply, a minute too late, but Scara still chuckles at your response as he tosses the script aside.

“What? You’re not going to say it back?” he teases, “And I thought I was the emotionally constipated one.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you mutter, hitting him on the shoulder, “I love you, too. I guess.”

“Archons, you’re worse than me.”

“No, you were much worse when we were younger!”

“It was hot and mysterious when I did it.”

“Uh huh, just go back to set I’m sick of you.”

“Weird way to say you agree but okay.”

“Go!”

.

.

.

୨⎯ THE END ⎯୧

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev

author’s notes — and that’s a wrap folks! hope the ending wasn’t awkward i just wanted it to be short and sweet. anyway, thank u to everyone who read and kept up with this fic, means a lot to me that this blew up as it was smth i wrote for myself. if ur rereading this or are a reader in the future ty to you too! i appreciate the silent readers, anons, and ppl who left me sm cute comments and reblogs. u guys made writing it more fun and easier to ignore the not so nice ppl. i cant reply to everyone but just know i do read every ask and comment i get! i do hope to see u guys in my notifs in the future even if i don’t write for genshin anymore, but if not then i’m glad you gave my writing a chance <3 have a great day/night byebye

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]

#behind the lens smau #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #genshin smau #genshin scaramouche

[astronicht]

whumptober day 1: “how many fingers am i holding up?”

(I wanna do some of these for as long as i’m feeling it as a kind of fic amnesty! get back into the swing of writing without pressure u know! it might be exactly two it might be literally just this one who knows!)

F1 rpf | max/daniel | figure skating AU | 1.5k, rated T

(mild cw for an injured kid)

The coach is a fucking joke. He’s across the lobby from Max, who is tying his sleek black skates and waiting for Christian to show up in about thirty minutes, clutching a coffee even though he’s woken up at 4AM for the last forty years.

The coach nervously leans close to a little girl sitting on the benches in her skates, her boots and blades wet with slush. She has a sleek high ponytail and still has her bum pad strapped on over her leggings to break falls and a closed-off look on her little face. The coach says, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Jackass. He’s obviously a competitive skater working as a coach part-time because he looks all of nineteen, but that doesn’t fucking matter. He’s the coach. He should know better. Max’s hands feel clumsy on his laces. He’s probably going to have to— Or the mum—

As Max is scanning the little crowd of parents at the tables, the door to the rink swings open with a blast of cool wet air and Daniel strides in. He’s got new boots on, Max realizes numbly. Daniel and the little girl are also wearing the same brand of leggings, hers in miniature. She is probably seven years old.

“Hey, you took a spill, huh?” Daniel says, because if he was on the ice he’d have seen it. He’s walking a little gingerly, slush sluicing off his blades onto the rubber floor; his feet are probably rubbed bloody inside the stupid new Jackson Ultimas.

Max gets up, walks over. Daniel sees him and seems surprised, or maybe Max is imagining it. Max does not say anything. He squats on his toepicks in front of the little girl, ignores the stupid fucking coach. Daniel says, “Oh, uh— Max is just gonna do a little concussion check, yeah?” Daniel doesn’t ignore the coach at all, smiles at him, says something, but he does somehow dismiss him a little. It’s easy to see, to Max, that Daniel was coached by Christian for a long time.

Max looks at the girl. She stares back, jaw tight. He tells her, “No counting, only follow my finger with your eyes. And now you talk to me, okay? Explain exactly what happened.”

The girl hesitantly starts to describe the double loop that led to the back of her skull smacking into the ice. Max moves his finger to her left, to her right. Her words are in the right order, not slurred, but her eyes judder a little following his hand.

“Daniel, give me your phone.” Max says, squinting at the girl and sticking his hand up. Daniel’s warm hip is right next to him, shifting as Daniel fidgets, his phone probably in his fleece because he never leaves it on the boards unless he’s on the ice. Daniel hesitates, maybe, but then his cold phone is being fumbled into Max’s waiting hand. His lock screen is some fucking beach, screen protector clouding up under Max’s warm fingertips. Daniel does not even like the beach that much. Max taps to make the flashlight come on from the lockscreen and tries to ignore Daniel relaxing beside him, like he didn’t want Max to be nosy about his stupid life.

Daniel does get three incoming texts while Max is watching the girl’s pupils react to the light, flinching down to a point the way they are supposed to. But maybe a little slow. Max frowns. It is all normal for skating, injuries and concussions alike, but it makes him feel a little sick, sometimes, when it’s the little ones. He doesn’t practice around kids that often anymore, but then again, if she’s here this seven-year-old is probably thinking about breaking into juniors, probably very serious.

The girl’s mum comes in through the other set of doors, the ones leading to the rest of the rink, the other sheets of ice that Max normally rents privately for a few hundred dollars an hour — a little cheaper in euros. Someone must have texted her; one of the other mums at the tables by the window to the rink, probably, not the coach who is almost hiding behind Daniel while Max takes care of his fucking student. Max should charge him.

Max straightens up and says to the mum, but looking out at the rink through the windows, “She has hit her head. I am of course not her coach so I cannot tell you what to do. She is not confused now but some of her reactions are a little slow.” He swallows. “So yes you could of course get her checked out at a clinic.”

The woman turns to the useless coach and starts asking questions. Max looks at the kid. “Okay, good job,” he says. “Take a break, try not to fall on your head like this.” Then he walks back to his seat. He looks down at his skates again. He can’t find his gloves.

A rustle and a shadow in the fluorescent lights: Daniel is coming to sit beside him on the cold plastic bench. Daniel sighs. It is early but he looks more tired than an early morning. He only got one Grand Prix invitation this year. The girl and her mum are gone, the doors swinging shut. Max swallows. It is normal, but also he hopes the mum takes the girl to the doctor today, just to see.

“Alright?” says Daniel, almost warily. “Doctor Maxy.”

Max rolls his eyes at him, says, “It is so annoying. Of course a head hit rattles you, so it is hard to tell when it is real.”

“Well, this time she’s definitely fucking concussed,” Daniel says, rubbing his face.

“Oh. Did you tell her mum?” Max asks, surprised. He watches his own hands clench on his knees. His gloves are in the side pocket of his skate bag like always, he realizes. He doesn’t reach for them yet.

Daniel blinks at him, eyes wide, shadows under them a delicate purple. “I… yeah, I told her what the kid said: that she'd blacked out when she hit her head for a second? Any time you black out, it’s a concussion, right? I don’t know if the mum like, knows that.” He squints at the doors. “Cunt of a useless coach though.”

“No it’s not always a concussion,” Max corrects. The girl did say that, he remembers, when he was making her talk so he could test how she spoke. “Blacking out for a second when you hit? Then I would've had dozens as a kid.” Daniel shifts beside him, laughs a nervous little laugh. His head is in his hands. “I have had enough already, my brain would be mush, Daniel. Anyway it is not even the real test, the finger and the eyes thing and the talking. It is just a DUI test. Geri did it to you once, I remember, at Cup of China 2017? I asked what it was because I of course had not seen it and she said she used to party pretty hard, run into problems with friends sometimes, and she thought it had to be about the same.”

Daniel rubs his face again. “Was I concussed?” he asks. “In 2017?”

“Yes, I think so. But it is hard to tell.”

“No, I remember, I skated in that competition.”

Max shrugs. “You won the gold, then I beat you at Skate America two weeks later.”

“Shit, yeah. I remember now. Yeah.” Daniel tips his head back. On the tvs above the rink doors, the receptionist is playing YouTube videos of last year’s Grand Prix series instead of the rink sponsorship reel. It looks like Italy, the senior pairs event. Max watches Sui Wenjing get thrown through the air in a near-perfect twist, land on one edge of one blade like a sharp and flying thing. He has always wondered what it feels like, to land something from six feet in the air. No matter how high he can get his quads, his triples, he of course skates singles.

Max can smell Daniel’s cologne, which he is wearing at 5:03 AM, his sweat, the stiff leather of his awful new boots. “Well, gotta get back out there,” Daniel says. “These babies won’t break themselves in.”

They both look at Daniel’s new boots, which are probably full of Daniel’s blood for no reason, because Max doesn’t think his old ones were really broken or that bad or whatever. His coach probably told him to switch. Max switches boots when he needs to, always knows when to judge it, always gives himself the full summer before the competition season to break them in and let them tear him up a bit.

“Okay,” Max rasps. “Say hi to Lando for me. Try to land your Salchow.”

Daniel stands with his hand on Max’s hair, ruffles it and shoves Max, making him laugh. The clenching thing in his chest releases a little.

“Don’t bump your noggin,” Daniel says quietly, rapping his hand on Max’s head, gentle.

“Too late,” Max jokes.

Max stays sitting there for a minute after Daniel gets back on the ice, trying to wait out the rush of adrenaline, his heart still slamming like it was him who fucked up a loop, like it was his pale mother at the swinging doors.

—

concept brought to u by me in @/garagegremlin’s texts like OKAY they’re like all singles skaters but max has the heart of a pairs girl

#f1 rpf #my fic #whumptober ‘23 #max/daniel #maxiel #suddenly remembering i don’t know tagging conventions round these parts #alas #maxiel figure au

[phoenix-rising-starbird-one]

I SHOULD BE WORKING ON MY BRADLEY BRADSHAW FIC…. BUT NOooOooOOOOooo

Protective Jake Seresin idea sneaks itself into my brain and now I’m like ANOTHER WIP ADDED AWAY FROM MY BRADLEY BRADSHAW FIC and I’m like for fuck’s sake, brain, why? WHY? PLEASE, PLEASE FINISH ONE STORY! PLEASE! I AM BEGGING YOU TO FOCUS!

Meanwhile my brain is like:

(PS: adding warnings of physical altercation, fight, mentions of abuse)

Jake would be so observant. He’d notice right away that something is off, even if you’re quiet already. It could be the subtlest changes, too. Really, anyone else would probably brush it off as you being your usual introvert self, but Jake would disagree. Cause albeit you being the epitome of introvert, there’s such a thing as being too quiet, even for you, and Jake’s blood boils when he catches glimpses of why, and yeah, he’s this cocky asshole like with the biggest self-important ego a pilot can have, but that doesn’t mean he only cares about himself.

Cause what others see as pompous arrogance and show-off-manship is more like confident determination. Becoming a pilot isn’t an easy feat. You gotta have a competitive and confident streak, or else, you won’t last in Navy Aviation. Anyways, below that arrogance, and kind of mistaken self-importance, is a man whose mama raised him right! And she would absolutely smack him over the head if she found out he was looking the other way just because it’s easier to look the other way than step up, right? Because it’s not his problem, right?

But his mama raised a man with some solid core values (and yeah, maybe he hasn’t always lived up to those but when push comes to shove, Jake always does the right thing!), and it’s a fucking flash how it all happens. One second, he’s behind the pool table, looking out the window. And he’s not sure. He’s not 100% sure. But then he remembers that you’ve started wearing long sleeved t-shirts. In fucking California? And that man out there, the one you’re looking at with wide terror-filled eyes, is grabbing your arm a little too harshly for Jake’s liking. And then it’s a fucking flash. One second, Jake is behind the pool table and the next, the Daggers are running after Jake who is sprinting outside, not even waiting for Bob to actually catch the queue that Jake throws off to the side.

And then it’s sand and dust in the air, and for a moment, the Daggers have no fucking clue what is happening. All they hear is Jake growling as he spits out “How does it feel, huh? How does it feel to go against someone your own fucking size? Not a man now, are you?” And it takes Javy and Bradley and Fanboy to drag Jake off whoever he is pummeling into the ground, and to hold him back while Mav gives this stranger an ice-cold glare while Bob and Natasha wrap you in a hug and turn you away. “Don’t you ever lay a hand on her again! You hear me!” Jake yells over his shoulder as the group pulls him back into the Hard Deck, still in a three-to-one hold on Jake.

And your now ex could call the cops. He really could. Jake left his lip split and other parts bruised. But your ex has this feeling that no one will have seen a thing. One thing’s for certain. You never see your ex again after that. But Jake comes around the office often and it’s not just to debrief with the higher ups. “You look good.” Jake smiles softly when he sees you wear a cap-sleeved blouse. And yeah, you’re still quiet. That’s not gonna change. But your eyes are bright when you return his smile with one of your own, a soft “thanks” in tow. And just as Jake gets called into office, he hands you a small paper bag. “Your favorites.” He winks, catches the smile when you pull two cookies from the bag just before he closes the door.

(I was thinking of making this introvert reader who is the private secretary of one of the higher ups, not necessarily Admiral Simpson. But she’s a civilian… and my brain won’t stfu cause ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… someone tell me to not write this! Tell me to focus on my other WIPs, of which I have… wait, gotta check… 81! EIGHTY-FUCKING-ONE WIPS! CRIES IN WRITER!)

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #glen powell #omg please send help cause why brain WHY!! #writing #vonny’s ideas

[dazai-fan-page]

opinion on fyozai ?

I personally don't ship it because I see it as being too competitive and more "I wanna beat you and then keep you as a pet" which isn't how they actually are, I know, but it feels like that every time I think about writing them so I just never do. Also I don't ship Nikolai and Chuuya and I can't ship Dazai with other people without making it a skk polycule because I don't like separating them. Same goes with Fyolai.

I do understand why people ship them tho, I can see the appeal.

They've got that whole arch enemy, can almost read each others mind and are constantly one uping each other, of course it's a ship. They understand each other on a freaky level, they should kiss.

Personally if I were to write an AU where they dated I think I'd probably make them be an on and off thing, neither of their friend groups approve of the relationship, which just makes them want to stay together more but they still break up on a bimonthly basis. Eventually I'd have them decide that this is just a waste of time, trying to hurt the other for whatever the reason this week, breaking up and fucking around before getting back together, it's not worth it.

If they had to be endgame I'd need Fyodor to trust Dazai to not run away and Dazai would need to trust that Fyodor wasn't just using him as means to an end. Which would be a pain in the ass to write in a cute number of chapters we'd be in a 15+ chapter fic at that point. But I'd probably have Fyodor have a breakdown and try to go hide by himself and have Dazai help him through it, at his own detriment of some kind to prove that he's not doing it for self gain. Then have Dazai get real sick so he can't do anything of "value" and have Fyodor take care of him, to prove that he doesn't only want Dazai when he's "useful"

Jazz hands thanks you goodnight

#bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai #osamu dazai #bsd #bsd dazai osamu #fyozai #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor x dazai

[landinrris]

I come bearing a bit of a Carlando ficlet repurposed from an abandoned wip I mentioned in a previous fic note. Technically same year/timeline as the recent honeymoon fic. From a timeline where Lando's fighting for the championship with McLaren. This takes place during a sponsorship event early in the season and involves an ignorant brand rep and Carlos subsequently taking Lando's mind off it. Not quite nsfw, though they are them. (Also, definitely wrote this initially before silly season last summer and didn't have the heart to replace anyone upon going back through it.)

May 2024

Just because Lando’s spent the last six years being subject to the same monotonous and circle-jerk-worthy sponsor events doesn’t mean he has grown to like or enjoy them. They’re usually full of the upper echelons of who “matters” and who’s willing to write the largest cheque—meaning Lando’s stuck smiling and nodding for hours on end while he pretends to care.

He’s often stuck entertaining people’s thoughts and comments that sound like they’re trying to project an air of knowing more than he does.

Even though they never do.

While Lando’s not sure these events will ever be good, they’re at least always better when Carlos is able to be there with him. Daniel helps as well, turning them into a three-man front against condescending and underhanded remarks.

With the early races showing that Lando may well be a contender for the championship, the events he’s required to go to seem to escalate. Carlos has only been to one other event with him since the start of the season, busy with his own obligations, but he’s here tonight.

Except for the part where it’s Carlos who’s been tugged away for a conversation by Andreas of all people, leaving Lando standing off to the side with a half-empty champagne flute as perfect bait for some old fuck to corner him.

And the universe must have it out for him tonight because that’s what happens.

Some older guy who’s in charge of something or other to do with Goldman Sachs and its European branch (Lando can’t be assed to remember) pulls Lando into a conversation about the one thing Lando really wishes he wouldn’t. He reeks of cologne that lingers on the edge of too sweet, the cloying scent of red wine practically condensing in front of his mouth.

Lando pulls upon his years of politeness and PR training to stay where he is. After four sponsor events in the last month and a half, he’s rather tired of accepting their comments and strategy calls for the championship like the decision is obvious. As if the team doesn’t have months and months ahead of them with the competition close behind.

This guy starts there, like so many others, asking about how Lando feels about the team’s progress (better than during preseason now that they can see everyone’s pace), his thoughts on development (cautiously optimistic given their recent progress and his comfort level with the car), and the upcoming race (Barcelona is always fun and practically feels like home after the last few years).

It doesn’t stay there though when Mr. Goldman Sachs leans in almost conspiratorially and says, “You know, given the last few champions and standings, I think the real trick is to not be tied down to a woman while trying to be competitive.”

Lando, honest to God, chokes on his champagne, his eyes going wide despite his best efforts. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t quite get what you mean.”

Unfortunately, this guy has no issue repeating himself. “Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen, during their truly dominant seasons, never had anyone holding them back. True, you’ll find the same for a lot of the multiple champion-winning drivers. And really, maybe it’s something the teams should pay more attention to.”

Beneath the utter audacity of this man trying to start a conversation about drivers’ libidos, there’s something immensely amusing about him being so confident about Max specifically over the past few years (and that’s to say nothing about the others). Lando wants so badly to tell him Max has been in a committed relationship since 2017. He wants to see the man’s eyes grow wide, for him to choke on his words and make a stuttered apology before scampering off to talk to some other CEO. Lando keeps his mouth shut lest he accidentally creates headline-worthy news out of a fucking sponsor event, but God does he want to ruin this man’s worldview.

Mr. Goldman Sachs is rambling something about virile young men (Lando almost throws up at that one) while Lando debates asking again what position this guy holds in the company. What would the odds be of Zak renegotiating their sponsorship future over this if Lando asked?

“But you don’t have a girlfriend, I trust? Nothing to stop you from putting everything you’ve got into this championship. McLaren needs another champion. It’s been too long.” His smile is on the wrong side of leering, and Lando suppresses his shudder. He wonders if this guy even knows McLaren’s last champion, considering it’s obvious he knows little about their current front-runner.

“No sir, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Ah, good man,” he interjects before Lando can correct him.

“I do have a fiancé, but I don’t really anticipate it having a negative effect on my championship fight.”

Carlos, God bless him, chooses that moment to finish talking to Andreas. Lando shifts his eyes over Mr. Goldman Sachs’ shoulder and sees him approaching with an easy smile on his face, two flutes of champagne in his hands. Now is not the moment to admire Carlos in his well-tailored suit that Lando has wanted to tear off him all night, all sleek lines and sharp corners.

Especially when Mr. Goldman Sachs regrettably makes his thoughts on Lando’s relationship status known. He schools his moderately surprised expression and says just about what Lando expects from him by this point.

“Oh, well, I hope you’re right. Distance just creates such a hiccup in any relationship, let alone the stress I’m sure you’ll be under as the season unfolds. And given how focused Red Bull is on correcting their mistakes, it won’t be long with Verstappen coming through the field with a single mindset.”

The literal only thing that stops Lando from yelling that Max isn’t single and having to subsequently beg for his and Daniel’s forgiveness until the end of time, is the back of Carlos’ hand brushing against Lando’s upper arm. His smile is warm as his eyes flit back and forth between Lando and Mr. Goldman Sachs. He tilts his head enough for Lando to understand that he’s asking two questions at once.

“More champagne? Andreas needed my opinion on something, so I bring back apology alcohol for abandoning you.”

Lando’s only too glad to take it and exchanges his almost empty glass for Carlos to hand to a passing waiter.

“Am I interrupting?” Carlos asks once Lando smiles in thanks, shifting his gaze to Mr. Goldman Sachs. There’s a carefully veiled concern there, like Lando need only use their rescue word to change locations.

But Lando just musters his most professional smile and holds out a hand to present Mr. Goldman Sachs to Carlos. One of the most unfortunate moments of his career. “Uh, Carlos, this is the head of the European branch for Goldman Sachs. One of our sponsors.” Lando looks more directly at Mr. Goldman Sachs as if challenging him with his next words. “I’m sure you must be familiar with Carlos Sainz—my fiancé, actually. You’ll find distance won’t really play a role in our relationship.”

Both Carlos’ and Mr. Goldman Sachs’ faces do something funny for completely different reasons, but Lando’s too ticked off to find either of them amusing. He’ll have to commiserate with Daniel and Max later.

“Sainz? You’re with Ferrari, are you not?” Mr. Goldman Sachs manages after he practically picks his jaw up off the floor. He’s oozing with faux politeness and acceptance—trying his hardest not to look rocked by the news that Lando has the farthest thing from a girlfriend.

Carlos shifts closer to Lando, picking up easily enough on Lando’s prickly attitude. Hell, Andreas probably can where he is across the room. The slide of Carlos’ hand over the middle of Lando’s back, coming to rest at the base of his spine helps Lando to relax some of his muscles.

Carlos returns just as much sanitized politeness. “I am normally. Tonight though, I am here as Lando’s plus one. It is true like he says, we are never far apart.”

“I just find it mildly surprising that Ferrari would allow you to be here, and in this capacity. They’ve always been notoriously strict, I’ve heard.”

Carlos shrugs and sips from his glass. He looks calm and collected, but Lando can see the subtle shift of his jaw— can feel the way Carlos’ fingers flex at Lando’s back. “There are some things more important than what Ferrari wants me to show sometimes. If you’ll excuse us. I was sent to fetch Lando for Zak.”

The lie is blatant even if it works. Lando wonders if Carlos realizes he’d said he was talking with Andreas before as he gives Mr. Goldman Sachs a barely-there smile. Carlos doesn’t give them much time to linger until he’s pulling Lando away and back in the direction he’d come from earlier before Mr. Goldman Sachs can say anything else.

Carlos pulls Lando down a long hallway off the main ballroom until they’re about three-quarters of the way. Only then does he stop and turn to look at Lando for the first time.

The irritation is plain to see on Carlos’ face and in the set of his shoulders when he sighs. “Some fucking people. What did he say to you? It didn’t sound like it was going well based on how you introduced us.”

Try as Lando might, he’s unable to refrain from unloading. Poor Carlos, who hates these kinds of things more than Lando does and who doesn’t even have to be here out of obligation. He’s only here on one of his precious few free nights out of his love for Lando and not wanting him to suffer alone.

Lando starts at the point where Carlos had first been pulled away, talking fast enough as if the quickness of the words would help Lando get over how uncomfortable they’d made him. As if the speed would make it so Carlos wouldn’t have to bear their abrasiveness as well. They’ve been publicly out for a year, how do people not know?

Carlos stops him in the middle of a tangent about how, even though he’d wanted to spill about Max and Daniel so bad, there’s no way he would deserve their forgiveness, and—

“Lando, Lando stop. Breathe for me, please.”

“Can we, let’s just— I really don’t want to go back out there yet. I will do something I regret.”

It’s a wonder that Carlos doesn’t have to ask him the specifics and just nods, taking Lando’s wrist in his hand and guiding them further down the hallway.

Their shoes echo together against the walls, but it’s infinitely better than the way everyone’s voices in the main hall coalesced together to create a quiet din that built up on his nerves slowly but surely. Like a fine grit that wasn’t noticeable until it was too late and left a bleeding mess of his nerves.

Carlos tries a few doors that are locked before coming to a set of narrow double doors that aren’t. They look like heavy oak, ornately carved like they themselves are an art piece— and maybe they are considering the rest of them looked to be pretty standard. Lando decides in the back of his mind that people rich enough to have an estate and manor this big to host corporate events don’t have to make sense.

The room that Carlos pushes into is a library because of course it is. And it’s not even a small room. The walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, all packed to the brim with books old and new— tomes of information Lando could never hope to get through in this lifetime. There’s even a mezzanine off to the side with further shelves that reach to the top edge of the ceiling before it vaults up to the outer wall lined with windows. Thick drapes are pulled open along the outer edges, but they get the mood across.

The mood that happens to make Lando feel like he’s stepped back in time at least eighty years.

It’s not until Carlos pulls him a bit further into the room and away from the door that Lando remembers why they’d even found it. Right, the utter chaos of his brain and the people in the main hall aren’t mixing. And he quite likes his job.

Lando’s feet kickstart before Carlos can lead him to one of the wingback chairs off to the side, and instead, he pulls them to one of the far walls, tucked near the staircase that leads up to the mezzanine. If someone comes in looking for them, they might be out of sight back here.

Carlos turns once they stop walking, and it’s the first time Lando actually sees his face after begging to go somewhere other than the open hallway. All hints of the anger from before are gone, replaced instead with genuine concern. His big eyes and worried eyebrows make him look sad in a way Lando can’t deal with.

And maybe they shouldn’t be using the library of some wealthy person’s manor for their own benefit, but Lando desperately needs to get out of his mind—to forget, if just for a moment, what that man had said.

Carlos in all his rational sense likely has his own qualms about pressing Lando up against the shelf behind them with his hands spanning the width of Lando’s hips and their lips pressed against each other. He would ordinarily likely have some trepidation about kissing up Lando’s jaw and burying his head in Lando’s neck. Their breaths are a cacophonous roar in Lando’s ears, his chest fit to burst when Carlos’ teeth snag at Lando’s earlobe.

When their lips meet again after way too long, Lando frantically pulls Carlos’ mouth back to his own. As if this is a short, clandestine meeting where they’re meant to part once finished and pretend they don’t know the other— that they’re forbidden from being together.

It’s exactly like this, in a way. Lando doesn’t want to think of what would happen if anyone caught them in here, especially while he’s trying not to think.

Rather than Lando’s earlobe this time, Carlos’ teeth catch on his bottom lip, pulling a moan from Lando’s mouth, muffled as it is pressed to Carlos’. Lando feels weak under Carlos’ hands, surrendering to Carlos’ control with an ease that would be embarrassing if anyone else found out. But here, he’s only too happy to open his mouth to Carlos, whimpering at the feeling of Carlos’ tongue against his lip.

Even through his suit jacket, dress shirt, and undershirt, Lando can feel the heat of Carlos’ hands—can feel how they flex. It’s a tactile reminder of Carlos’ self-control, of how he’s barely holding himself together from ripping Lando’s clothing off.

Lando’s close to letting him, to saying to hell with it all, when he hears as much as feels Carlos’ groan ripped from his chest where he has his own hands splayed. He wants desperately to feel the warmth of Carlos’ skin and run his fingers through where Carlos’ chest hair is growing back from its latest wax. He wants to feel Carlos’ weight over him, pressing into him enough to reduce him to a litany of curses and pleas.

This is everything Lando wanted—to have every sense filled with Carlos instead of any of the people out in that grand hall.

All he hears is Carlos’ labored breathing that alternates between huffs and sighs and half-uttered proclamations of Lando’s name.

All he feels is the starch of Carlos’ shirt, the fleeting feel of silk that runs up the lapels of the suit jacket he’s regrettably still wearing.

All he tastes is Carlos, a hint of champagne still on his tongue, much fancier than they’re ever given on the podium. Lando still hates the taste, but it’s always been sweeter kissed from Carlos’ mouth.

Lando’s about five seconds from tearing his mouth from Carlos’ to sink to his knees where he stands, he really is, all the more encouraged when Carlos tears one of his hands from Lando’s waist to cradle his face instead. It’s instinctual to lean into the touch, Carlos’ mouth catching the corner of Lando’s and trailing up on its own accord to the space on his cheekbone just below his eye.

The action makes Lando giggle breathlessly, a noise incongruent with what they’ve been doing, what Lando’s really about to do. But that’s Carlos—always somehow subverting Lando’s expectations. It doesn’t stop Lando from trying to tilt his head back up into Carlos’ space, wordlessly begging for Carlos’ lips again, but it’s not a request that’s granted. A whimper may or may not escape unbidden from Lando’s throat at the action.

Instead, Carlos lets his thumb sweep across Lando’s cheek with a sad smile that just about reaches his eyes. Lando can’t tell for sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if its presence wasn’t wholly because they can’t do as much as they want to. The most sure-fire way to get Lando out of his head when he wants to stop thinking isn’t something that’s possible right now, they both realistically know, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be sad about it.

“We really should not be doing this here, mi amor. Someone will be coming to look for us. We have been gone for too long, I think.”

Lando sucks in a bit more air before he trusts his voice enough to answer without producing a distinctive wobble. “If we were at the MTC, I’d know where the hiding spots were.”

Carlos huffs out laughter at that. Good, Lando thinks. Anything to wipe away the look on his face.

“And I believe you. Later though, okay? You deserve me to make love to you not against a bookshelf in a gaudy manor, no?”

Lando tries to suppress the shudder that goes through him at the combination of Carlos’ words and the way they’re almost whispered into his ear. He nods unthinking because if Carlos is telling him he deserves to basically be fucked in luxury, then who is Lando to dispute that?

“What time is it?” Lando asks in lieu of physically pulling Carlos back into him. He should honestly be commended for his strength.

Carlos could tell him to look at his own watch if he felt like it, but he doesn’t. Rather, he barely shifts his gaze down to meet his watch at Lando’s hip and sighs. “We still have about an hour before you can make an elegant exit.”

“An elegant exit?”

“Ay, everything you do is elegant. Surely leaving one of these dreadful events must also be.”

Truly, one of the most elegant things would be leaving a sponsor event, so he won’t fight Carlos on that one.

What he wants to do is fight the tug on his wrist that Carlos gives him after a much more chaste kiss to his lips. He wants to fight the intent to lead him back through the overly ornate doors that lead back to too many inane comments and questions. If there’s one thing Lando’s decided for the rest of the night though, it’s that he won’t be left alone without one of his team members.

They reenter the main hall to find Daniel standing near the entrance, glass full while he holds an empty one in his hands. He doesn’t look at either of them as they pause next to each other, and for a moment, it’s a bubble of peace in the middle of chaos.

“I think I've just figured out why I never won a world championship,” Daniel says off-handedly. The PR fight leaves Lando then, bending him at the knees as he’s helpless to fight off the hysterical laughter that bubbles up and over inside him. Carlos’ steadying hand is on his back keeping him semi-upright, but it’s a losing battle.

Fucking sponsor events.

#anyway carlos and lando went back to their hotel later that night and carlos showed lando exactly what he thought he deserved #one of the few bits that got written for that version of that wip #carlando #husbands™ #writing tag

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

For the WIP game, do you have plans to add add any more to Outside the Lines from the Outside Chance universe? You single-handedly got me shipping Prim & Rye(n) hard b/c of this fic 😂 And from in progress, You + Me and/or The Cold Side of the Bed?

Alright, we'll cover all three. <3 Below the cut because it's a lot of text.

Friend. I am totally going to throw my beta under the bus on this one. PRIM AND RYEN WERE NEVER PLANNED. I was not gonna go there. Buttercupbadass, however, had other ideas. "Wouldn't it be funny if Prim's 'spa day' was her sneaking away to be with Ryen???" she asked. "Oh it's so cute she had a crush on him!" she says. "Screw it. I want them [Prim & Ryen] to get married," she puts in her edits/comments on ch 17 of Outside Chance, and not on a Prim and Ryen interaction even. That's what bba commented when Prim is saying goodbye to Eirik when she and Katniss are leaving Skaid after their summer visit!

Thus began an entire barrage of her reasoning, possible scenes and dialog, and then... THEN bba mentioned how funny it would be if Katniss accidentally saw a naked Ryen in the background of a Skype call one day and I lost it. So much of that story has roots in my personal life and well... so does that, unfortunately. But after that, the whole concept became too delicious for me to resist. And also, bba was right. They belong together.

I absolutely plan on adding more to Outside the Lines. At the moment, I feel the need to finish writing the next chapter of Outside Chance because that's the root story. I build Outside the Lines and Outside Expectations around what's in Outside Chance, and in a lot of ways, Otl and OC are kind of written simultaneously. So here's a snippet from the next chapter of Outside the Lines and lord help me if bba sees this, I won't hear the end of her prodding to get it done lol ;)

--

“So you’re the flavor of the week. Is there anything you can tell me about Ryen’s mental state going into this competition?”

“If I were really just the flavor of the week, why would you think I’d have any insight into his mental state?” I retort. There’s not much I remember about Agnes Mellark, other than a vague impression of cold aloofness. But how much of my idea of her has been stained by what Katniss and Ryen have told me about her? I don’t know.

I can’t even tell if she recognizes me right now. Maybe it’s too soon to play this hand, but I can’t resist. Maybe because it’s proof that I know Ryen far better than any of his previous flings. Maybe even better than the woman confronting me right now.

“Aren’t you his mother? You should have a better idea of his mental state than me,” I say with a smile. Really, I’d like to stab her in the jugular, but with what? Couldn’t smuggle in a knife, and am unfortunately not wearing my favorite four inch heels, which would be a perfect weapon.

Agnes purses her lips and her eyes wrinkle at the corners. Oh shit, I think and prepare to run, but she shakes her head and chuckles slightly.

“I wish I could say that my son were smart, but he usually thinks more with his dick than his brain,” she says and eyes me. “You’re every bit as beautiful as the others, but smarter, aren’t you?”

“I’d like to think I am,” I say.

“Good. Maybe you actually have a shot at getting him to commit, but don’t hold your breath for it. He won't admit it, but he needs someone with a brain to keep him in line, to challenge him and keep him from squandering his talent.”

“Multiple Olympic medals and world cup titles count as squandering his talents?” I ask. She takes a step back from me and I hold in my triumph that I got a response. 

“Maybe not, but his personal life is a mess. I just want to make sure you deserve him and treat him the way you should. Don’t be like that trash his younger brother keeps falling for.”

Oh no. She did not. Fuck this bitch. I don’t need a knife to destroy her.

"Oh you mean my sister?" I say with a wide smile and hold out my hand to her. "I guess you don't remember me. Primrose Everdeen."

**

You + Me is another one of my outstanding Everlark Fic Exchange prompts. This one is from 2019 (I think? *cringes in shame*), and was for either K or P as a romance novelist who secretly uses the other for inspiration in their writing. What happens when they find out?

This one has been super fun to write, if a little slow going, mainly because there are multiple moving pieces to it. Now for a snippet!

--

Katniss… we live together when we travel. I think I’m aware of all your annoying habits by now. ;)

And here I thought I was something of an enigma.

Nope. Open book to me.

Shit. 

Does he mean…?

My brain is scrambling, but I take a deep breath and manage to reign it in. He knows I’m a published writer. His words could merely be a reference to that. This can’t be good. Has he already figured it out?

Before I start plotting a heist to break into his house for a book burning party, I manage a decent, mostly innocuous text.

Hey what’s the title of the book you’re reading? Maybe I know it and can spoil the ending for you. ;)

Not on your life, Everdeen.

Just reached a plot twist in between your texting barrage. 

A delicious plot twist. ;)

Oh?

The hero is not who I was expecting. Dun duh dun!

The wheels squeal and I rush off the train as fear rises up in my throat. Oh god, he’s figured it out. What gave me away? The food porn passages, probably. He’s got to be reading The Thrill of the Hunt. That’s the only one I can think of where I pulled a bait and switch with the hero. 

The street is crowded and I have to tuck my phone in my pocket to navigate the crowds. When I get there, I’m still unable to answer him because even though I’m early to meet my editor, she’s ready for me.

“Katniss, darling! Welcome, welcome! Have a seat please. The cappuccino is fresh,” Effie trills as I’m ushered into her office and offered coffee.

Oh this cannot be good. Whenever Effie has liked my pages, she forgets her manners. Excitement precludes etiquette. But when a writer needs a kick to the creative pants… that’s when she’s the picture of perfect manners.

“That bad?” I ask when her assistant is finally gone, the door shut and a hot cappuccino gripped in my hands.

“They were...how to say this…?”

“Shit,” I supply and she scowls at my language.

**

And finally, since you asked about it, The Cold Side of the Bed was something I started for one of the "This Would Have Happened Anyway" challenges. I don't remember which one, only that the prompt was for Everlark in District 13. I never managed to finish it, in fact I've barely started it beyond a vague outline and the opening scenes, mainly because I was still finishing my degree at the time and pretty much would crash after finals then not be able to muster up the energy to write fanfic. But also because it kind of turned into an epic story. Short synopsis: Non-reaped Everlark winds up married to different people after their last reaping. The rebellion still happens and 12 is still bombed. Some of the story would be about them getting to 13, but the juicy stuff happens while they are in 13.

--

When I wake, the other side of the bed is cold. I reach out through the rough material, seeking a shred of the warmth that would exist if Primrose didn’t still climb into our mother’s bed after a nightmare. Not that I am surprised she had a nightmare last night. This is the day of the reaping, after all. I slowly lift my head to peer across the room at them. The three of them curled together for comfort. My mother, my sister who grows more achingly beautiful every day, and the ugliest yellow cat in the world. He sees me watching and hisses at me.

“Yeah, I know you’d be happy if they called my name today. Lucky for you, they just might.”

After all, my name is in the bowl 28 times today. I dress and join Gale in the woods, relaxing as I make my way through the thick summer foliage to our meeting place.

“How’re you planning on celebrating your freedom?” he asks as we make our way back towards the fence when we’re done hunting. It’s been a glorious day and we’ve got quite the haul. I’ll need the woods to keep providing like this in a few weeks. When the Games end this year, I start working in the mines.

I shudder slightly and give Gale a look. He just shakes his head and laughs. I don’t need to say it. It’s not exactly freedom, aging out of the reaping and into working down in those mines.

“You thought about what I said?”

“Gale,” I say and stop walking right before we reach the fence. He stops too and sighs, looks up at the sky. “I told you I can’t think about that right now. Not when Prim will still be—.”

“And I’ve got Rory still eligible and Posy about to start in a few years, but I’m still thinking about it. How’d you explain that? How about Nathan Dawson and Lilah Bronski? They’ve already decided they’re getting married some time after the reaping if they both make it through. Lots of people think about it, Catnip, and lots of people do it.”

“Well lots of people are stupid then,” I snap and Gale sighs.

“Alright look, just forget I said anything. Let’s go make our trades before we make you late.”

#wip file game #outside the lines #outside chance universe #you + me #the cold side of the bed #distractionsfromthefood #look at that ask

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Could I request a fic with m reader and Eddie being frenemies... like they constantly low key bully each other but it's because they're comfortable enough with eachother to know not to take it to heart... like they tease each other and are being competitive with EVERYTHING all the time... just being menaces lol (tysm!!)

I think I can cook this up for you! It's a tad short, but I didn't want to over do it.

Requests will be closing Monday, November 28th at 11:00 PM EST. You can submit yours here!

Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).

The more details you had to your request, the better it is for me. EX: “What about some fluff for Eddie after he’s had a long day?”

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

_______________________________________

If someone were to ask you when this started, you're not sure you could give them a date. You're not sure you could even give them a guess as to when it become second nature to antagonize each other. Sure to the outside, you were sure that it looked strange. If they didn't know like you did, you'd think it was a deep seated hatred too. But in reality this is just how you and Eddie are. If you pushed, he pulled. It's just how it works.

Like currently, you thump Eddie on the back of the head, crouching down over his shoulder. "You think you can just conveniently drive past me on the walk up here in a puddle and get away with it? I think not."

Eddie laughs, under his breath mostly and all through his nostrils. "You were well prepared in your boots," he tease, pointing down to the item.

The puddle was swallow and Eddie did slow down a lot as to not completely soak you, but your sock around your ankles are still wet from the morning.

"Fuck off," you huff, shoving his shoulder.

"I promise I can make it up to you," he states, a smile grazing his lips as he looks up to you. You move down two seats to his left.

"Please spare me the details," you huff, digging into the pile of peas on your tray. "Because you make a joke about a blowjob or getting you an A on a project, I think I'll cut my own ears off."

"Oh, c'mon, I think I'm pretty funny."

"You'd be the only one." The retort is all to easy and the table erupts into poorly withheld giggles. Eddie flips you the bird before the group resumes the conversation they were having before you approached.

And this--the bickering--is just the way it goes. So you're not shocked that later in the evening while you're sitting outside of Eddie's trailer, both of you with cigarettes between your lips, you huff at Eddie's confession.

"Just ask the person out. Don't be such a pussy," you retort.

"Easy for you to say."

"That is an age old excuse and honestly, I expect something more clever out of the likes of you, Munson." Your words are coated in the smoke you exhale, fingers holding the cigarette down at your side. "How about this--tomorrow during P.E if you score more baskets than me, you don't ask your crush out. But if I score more baskets than you, you have to ask them out in front of me."

It's a stupid bet--Eddie knows it as he stares down at your waiting hand. Eddie is not athletic not in the means that he could even fathom outscoring you in a game of basketball. Hell, Eddie did his best to literally never have to play the game during P.E at all. Lots of excuses about rolled ankles, literally ditching when at all possible, attempting to be the worst so that no one picks him.

But here you are, chest puffed out with a sly grin as you hold out your hand. Eddie knows that even you know it's a losing bet. That if Eddie really is chicken shit, he should just avoid it all right now. But he slips his palm into yours, the shake is firm and curt, sealing the coffin Eddie had stepped in just by mentioning the crush for good.

The floor comes up fast for Eddie, but he refuses to let himself be bested so he springs up fast, hearing the whistle of the teacher shrilling against the stale gym air. "Watch it," comes the shout followed by your last name.

You grin, watching Eddie come back to guard you. "Forgot what game I was playing for a second. Forgive me," you tease.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just put it back into play."

Eddie's a little shocked when he manages to swat the ball you had intended to pass to a teammate from its intended path. But he doesn't let the let the shock keep him from taking a shot. It hits the backboard, rims the basket and then falls through the net. Five. He's proud.

"Only need 7 more to catch up," you tease, walking behind him.

Not the reminder he needed and when he spins, he's met with your shirtless sweaty chest. "Oh, sweetheart, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flirting with me."

You only shrug, face falling a bit neutral, but the glint in your eyes says otherwise. "Who's to say I'm not already?"

After the retort you carry on up court, back towards the action of the game and Eddie wonders just how much he really cares about catching up.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munso fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x male reader #h writes #stranger things

[xieyaohuan]

Writer Tag

Thank you for tagging me @blindmagdalena and @saintmathieublanc! ❤️

How many works do you have on AO3?

43, but many of them are one shots and one of them is a translation.

What's your total AO3 word count?

203,854.

Ca. 120,000 of those words were banged out in just a few months during a single manic episode in 2017.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ravishing a God (which is still incomprehensible to me as tickle fics normally never get many kudos lol)

I've got you pegged (rushed fic and cringy title)

All a king should be (a collection of 47 drabbles of 100 word -- I want to do a drabble challenge like this again for Homewell or Butchlander)

All God's children took their toll (it's not been abandoned)

Under the Twisted Weirwood Tree (my only crossover fic; I really want to finish this one even though it's no longer my fandom)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I usually do unless it's hate (and sometimes even then)

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

This is a tough one because most of my A Song of Ice and Fire fic is angst lol. Probably Heart of Darkness? Maybe Joanna (despite the relatively 'happy' ending)? But it's a pretty stiff competition.

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

I would say Spinster, which is still pretty angsty.

Do you write crossovers?

I've written only one, Under the Twisted Weirwood Tree, which sets A Song of Ice and Fire characters in a semi-modern AU based on The Purge. I really enjoyed the worldbuilding for this one!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. I gave the wrong name to a character, which REALLY upset at least one person. I think I responded to them in good faith the first time, and then the second time told them to kindly fuck off.

I also used to post my fic on ff.net, where people seem to consider yelling at the author a legitimate type of feedback, and I definitely got a lot of that, but I don't consider that hate since it's just how people on ff.net interact.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, in all kinds of directions, but I don't think it's my forte lol.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I think I might have had stuff reposted to websites I didn't know without credit, but it might have just been one of those mirror sites that didn't include all details??

Not to be cavalier about plagiarism, but my internal reports at work get stolen all the time, so with fic, I honestly don't care, since, unlike at work, I'm not actually losing any money. I think if someone took my fic, passed it off as their own, and then got famous with it, I might feel different about that, but that's never happened to me.

I plagiarized @deliciouskeys' title once (for The Dollhouse), but not intentionally because I'd been working on that fic for a while and didn't realize until after publishing the first chapter that my title had been taken.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, I co-wrote a fic with a fandom friend over 20 years ago, but we ended up never publishing it. Haven't co-written any fic since then, and I don't think I'd enjoy it.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I don't think I have one since that would require me to maintain an obsession over decades, which is not how my brain works.

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

A bunch of fic I wrote for ASoIaF like Lions of the Realm and Fatherly Love. I won't to finish all my fic because I hate not to, but with these two, I'm pretty certain I never will. Probably a few others in that same category out there.

What are your writing strengths?

This doesn't really show in my current fandom, but I think I have some pretty unique ideas. I'm also willing to experiment and play around with concepts, which I generally consider a strength on the whole.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I lean towards GRRM's ways of telling a story, but without the skill of being able to pull it off (and to be fair, he's failing, too).

Also, I will say that writing in a language other than your native language will limit you in some pretty fundamental ways that can't be overcome, and that can be frustrating.

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

The most I do is insert individual words and phrases, and I only do that for languages I actually speak.

I did write one fic in which several of my characters spoke with pretty heavy dialect, and if I were to rewrite that fic now, I would really tone that down.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Published: Lord of the Rings

Unpublished and without realizing what I was doing: Asterix and Cleopatra, probably

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

I haven't written published any real Maevlander or real Starlander, and I definitely want to change that.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

Hard to say, but I really like Moonlight on her Face. I'm also rather attached to Ravishing a God, but I don't count that because for something to be a true favorite, it has to outlive my obsession.

I'm late to the party on this one and have lost track of who has already been tagged, so I'm not tagging anyone, but consider yourself tagged if you want to do this!

#tagging game #writer tag #fic #writing #about me

[neyafromfrance95]

Sylvie Laufeydottir in the Fanfics.

i love all the different takes on Sylvie in the fanfiction and i think that the fic writers should be bold when it comes to experimenting with her characterization, so i don't mean to be dogmatic or anything about it, but i think there is fun in trying to grasp the essential traits of a character and trying to write them as in-character as possible as well.

and if i'm being completely honest, there are not a whole lot of fics that have Sylvie characterized in a very "canon accurate" way.

i'm not saying that i am the one who has this correct idea of what kind of a character Sylvie is, but here are my two cents on what makes Sylvie - Sylvie.

first of all, here is what i think some people get wrong about Sylvie:

when she is reduced to exhaustion and stress.

it's true that Sylvie is an anxious character with many issues caused by her struggles, but Sylvie we saw in the series is passionate and driven.

when her one true dream and a final destination beyond revenge is settling down into a domestic lifestyle.

there is no hint of Sylvie dreaming about an uneventful, quiet, ordinary life. the flashbacks into her past suggest that her dream (and possibly her glorious purpose) was to be a hero. we see Sylvie living a low-key life in S2 teaser, and she doesn't look happy at all, she looks depressed af, which indicates that such lifestyle is not right for her.

Sylvie being sadistic.

i think the series makes a point that Sylvie is not sadistic at all. she never does more than necessary to her enemies, she is not cruel for the sake of being cruel. yes, she is feral and competitive, but those aren't the same as sadism. she puts Hunter C in a safe mental space while investigating her, she empathizes with Hunter B, she kills HWR with a quick stab. compare her approach to her enemies to pre-series!Loki's and Ravonna's - they tend to verbally hurt, scare and humiliate their enemies.

the only argument Sylvie has for fighting against Kang being "he wronged me."

yes, she is motivated by a personal vendetta. yes, she can be quite single-minded. but! her experiences with the the tva, awareness of who they are and what they represent, have shaped her worldview. Sylvie is an idealistic character, her revenge boils down to "he hurt me", but she has to believe that her mission is serving a good cause against the oppressive fascists. i believe this is why she is so discouraged and passive in the teaser of S2 - Kang tarnished her idealistic perception of her life's work. she doesn't feel like a hero any more, and it mattered a lot to her that she was a hero - Loki validating her heroism was one of the reasons why she fell for him.

Sylvie being a manipulative femme fatale.

another aspect of her persona that is portrayed very clearly in the series is her honesty. she is a straightforward character, always true to who she is. her kiss was not a deception, it was an expression of her feelings and emotions that exploded when Loki told her that he only cared about her.

Sylvie being overly-apologetic to the tva and Loki.

while Sylvie might feel like she fucked up and have an existential crisis, i highly doubt that she would feel apologetic to the very people who kidnapped her when she was a child and stalked her with an ill intent. "these new Kangs are bad so you were right when you destroyed my world and oppressed me" doesn't feel like an authentic Sylvie response. she most probably feels bad for pushing Loki away, but not to the point of self-depreciation and begging for forgiveness since she still felt backstabbed by him bc he did betray her, technically - he went back on his word and got in the way of her glorious purpose.

let's now move on to the aspects of her characterization that are pretty essential. i won't be elaborating too much on these for now.

she is assertive and strong-willed.

she does everything on her own terms, never compromising.

the themes of freedom and choice play a very important role in her story.

she has the pathological trust issues, and some anger issues as well.

she has probably been to every corner of the multiverse without ever settling in one place, so she never got to properly socialize within any cultural framework and she was exposed to the countless cultures. so, she has to be very nonconforming.

a glorious purpose means everything to Sylvie. it gives her life a meaning and is her driving force. out of all Lokis, it's probably Sylvie who values and prioritizes the glorious purpose the most.

she is truly like a feral cat in many ways.

she is the Multiverse Liberator.

(i always thought that out of all fictional characters, Sylvie is the most similar to Arya from ASOIAF btw)

but in the end of the day, we are still a new fandom, so it's understandable that there aren't many fics that have an astonishingly canon accurate characterization. it's ok and please don't hold yourself back from writing Sylvie if you are unsure about her characterization. the more you write and try, the better your vision of a character becomes! that's how the writing improves. also, i would encourage you to explore Sylvie's relationships with other characters as well. i mean, there is just so much to Sylvie's dynamic with Kang and Ravonna, it'd be interesting to write about Sylvie's journey around the multiverse, you all could let your imagination go absolutely wild, the Postman could be the ultimate OC in Sylvie fics (fancasting Will Sharpe, Sophia Di Martino's husband, as the legendary Postman)...

anyways, i think Sylki and Sylvie writers are some of the best fan writers out there (bc let's be real, there are not a lot of fandoms that characterize their faves very accurately to begin with), i'm only trying to say that if you are interested in writing very in-character, it won't be difficult since Sylvie is pretty strongly characterized in the series.

#sylvie laufeydottir #sylvie #lovie #sylki #loki #loki series #sylvie laufeydottir ao3 #loki tv #sylki fic #sylvie laufeydottir analysis

[amourlyns]

HEYYYY!!! i really like your writing, so i wanted to request a harry shepherd x fem!reader if you could. Any prompt would do!! I kinda like this man but also don't really like him.. so im wondering if you can write for him since he has no fics at all. Thank youuuuu!!!!

‧ 🧟🪦💀

[ HARRY SHEPHERD ]

+ FEM!READER

𝓢𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ⌕ You decided to put an end to whatever bullshit Harry to say

𝓜𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒𝗇𝖾 𝓣𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗌 ━━ LMAOO, it’s a love hate relationship w/ you n Harry then, I’m not really a Harry stan 💔💔 ➜    masterlist

𝓦𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ━━ none

⠀ | IF THERES ONE THING ABOUT HARRY Shepherd you despise, it’s his anger and smart mouth, you’ve been on the light calvary crew with Harry, Noah, and Owen since the very beginning. They could be considered family— your closest friends in fact.

Sure, they might be a little rough on the edges but they’re still loveable, well minus harry.. seriously, why does the dude feel the need to be a huge asshole all the time? Makes you wonder if he even thinks with his brain sometimes.. and sure, despite all the insults he is an amazing rider and you couldn’t fault him on that— but he has terrible sportsmanship, like where is his decorum for christ sake ?

It’s around 7pm by the time you Noah and Harry head out, the idiot fucked up his bike so you needed to get it fixed, you really only showed up so you could get some fresh air, of course you couldn’t leave on an empty stomach. Noah and Harry agreed on fried chicken.

Despite being American, Korean friend chicken has to be your favorite type of chicken, it’s absolutely heavenly— like damn! you were fond of Korean already. It’s hard not to love the country i mean look at the lights and the people, plus you were here with your friends— Noah, Owen .. and .. Harry

Harry wasn’t found of you either, he hated how stuck up you were— you were a damn goodie two shoes who just wouldn’t bend. You were always so nice to your competition and never backed down from a fight, ❪ which was almost endearing ❫ almost. But what the hell was he thinking? he has never, ever views in that light before so why now?

Harry’s signature scowl formed on his face, something about seeing a solem man eat away at some friend chicken was hilarious, a hearty chuckle escapes you and all he could do was scoff.

❛ Is there somethin’ funny? ❜ all you could do was smile and nod him off ❛ Your face. Your face is pretty damn funny❜ this elicits a small cackle from Noah, her teal hues widening in amusement, her laugh only eggs on the biker, making large strides towards your resting frame.

You’re way too nonchalant and it’s pissing him off why won’t you just flinch? He’s all up in your face and all you do it’s give him a stank eye and a scrunched up nose. He just can’t get through to you, he’s close, real close. You’re just now realizing that.

A hand reaches out to push on Harry’s chest, your head tilts at a certain degree ❛ Did I strike a nerve? ❜ A deep exhale leaves him ❛ Fuck you man, fuck you ❜ all you smell is his poultry breath, you “gag”, waving him off with a chuckle ❛ you should stop being such an asshole Harry, have some respect for yourself. ❜ oh you fucking sucked

#「 ★ 」 [𝐌] 𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗬𝗡𝗘 ➜ writes ™ #「 ☆ 」 [𝐌] 𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗬𝗡𝗘’𝗦 ➜ anons ™ #spirithub #x female reader #x fem!reader #windbreaker #harry shepherd x fem!reader #harry shepherd x reader #harry shepherd x female!reader #jay jo #dom kang #noah #windbreaker webtoon #webtoon

[smileysuh]

no because youuuu are a fucking goddess for the recent hyuck fic, like???

the ending made me sad and nostalgic bc i want them to be able to be w each other for as long as those two beauties would like to, which is also prolly forever considering they're sOoOoo into each other, but yeah, that's how my silly lil brain is gonna imagine it to be because i can't cope if the story ends w them not being able to be w each other, physically and emotionally, forever and ever :):):):):)

also i don't really know who i wanna be more, hyuck or the oc, my pining/yearning for hyuck is unimaginably feral, however, this oc puts up such a good competition, she's hot hOT

i think after bulldozing through your entire masterlist in a matter of a few days that, okay, now you've reached the pinnacle or the peak of your writing talent and creativity, bUT soMEHOW, your fOIIINE ass just manages to outdo your previous works over and over again

whether it be in terms of the plot, the characters, the pining, the angst, the smut, the fluff and oof the love, you. got. it. all.

doing gods work mama, aND you're just doing it so casually over and over again, like it isn't a fUCKING TALENT??? i'll kiss your fucking face istg

i would burn my fucking bones for you to never stop writing hyuck fics. because trust and believe if hyuck comes alive by having his bones burn, i come alive bECAUSE OF YOUR hyuck fics sO TAKE MY BONES

THANK YOU!!! yeah tbh, ghost fics always have that bit of angst because the dude is a freaking ghOST- I guess, Hyuck has a lot of bones for them to burn to conjure him so they should be good for a long time haha-

you're so freaking sweet to me- tbh, I've written SO much on this blog, sometimes I worry that certain fics aren't up to the correct level, Ghost Hyuck was on the subby side and it didn't get as much interaction as I projected that it would, but this message made me feel so much better about him

I love you

#inbox #i adore you to infinity

[misscrawfords]

Hello, fanfic writer question, please. 1, 2, 9, 13, 40, 44, 58, 91. There were so many good ones! Thank you

I'm sorry for the delay in answering this! It was Easter and then I've been on holiday...

do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

I never start writing unless I know the ending of the story. Like how the conclusions to essays should reflect the introduction, the ending of a story needs to be in the mind of the author from the beginning. But there might be quite a lot of wilderness in the middle I'm not sure about!

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

Actually, that doesn't really happen to me a lot. Stories unfurl and sometimes develop in cool ways when I think of a new bit of plot or development, but the characters don't really do this... I guess a kind of example was with my teenage HP next generation sequel where after writing it for quite a long time I realised one of the main characters was gay and this made so much sense! It wasn't relevant in any way to the plot but I felt I understood Xanthia so much better and it wasn't something I consciously plotted out.

9 - already answered

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

Back when I wrote Downton fic, my collaboration with Claire (@orangeshipper) was such a lovely experience. We were just so in tune with each other in terms of what we wanted to convey about Matthew and Mary and it helped us both develop our writing skills a lot. And we became proper IRL friends too. I can't really imagine having a writing partner like that again.

40. best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

Ooh, I don't know about anything specific but I always loved the comments that a fellow M/M shipper EOlivet left on my fic. We ended up kind of falling out but I was always sorry about that - she gave the best feedback! And @wah-pah also writes amazing reviews and I always feel incredibly grateful if she reads what I've written.

44. any writing advice you want to share?

Uhhhhh I'm not sure I, a person who hasn't written in ages, can give anyone any advice! But I guess I would say that writing has to be what you want to do and whatever you do is okay. I've wasted my emotions and my energy feeling competitive about my writing which is stupid when writers should support each other, and I've also felt jealous of people who seem able to write all the time on top of other lives or who are able to prioritise it or manage to write 1000 words a day or whatever. We all have different lives. Right now, my life doesn't admit of me pursuing writing seriously. It's the wrong point. I do hope at some point that will change but it's okay that I am prioritising other things at the moment. So I guess my advice would be to take it easy and not beat yourself up if you're not writing as much as you want to or how you want to - and definitely don't compare yourself to others!

58. what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

Golly, no idea. I'm sorry! It's been so long...

91. how has your writing style changed over the years?

Tricky. I'd like to think it's improved but honestly I'm not sure it has. I think I peaked when I was doing my masters degree, now over 10 years ago. I was so immersed in reading and the analysis of fiction I was really conscious of how I was writing. I wrote Consolation Prize and a lot of University Challenge then. I think I've got better at writing stories set in the modern era since then and perhaps developed more of a style. But tbqh I think I was a better writer ten years ago and I find that really depressing and it puts me off writing again. :(

#gosh it will be so hard to come back to it #one day #but I feel like I've got such an uphill struggle to get there

[palimpsessed]

15 Questions/15 People

@theearlgreymage @johnwgrey @artsyunderstudy @shrekgogurt @raenestee @yellobb @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @cutestkilla @facewithoutheart @prettylightsbigcity @thewholelemon @fatalfangirl @aroace-genderfluid-sheep thank you all so much for tagging me! I have loved getting to read your responses and learn more about you all 🥰

Are you named after anyone? Nope. Although if I’d been assigned male at birth, my parents would have named me Ross after Ross Poldark because they were big into Poldark during the original tv series and owned the books. I grew up in the nineties when my only reference points for Ross were: Dress for Less and Geller from Friends, so I don’t think I would’ve liked having that name. My sister would have been Tristan after the character from All Creatures Great and Small. Makes me feel so old knowing both of those shows were recently revived…

When was the last time you cried? Thursday when I found out a very lovely someone made one of my fics into an actual book because they loved it so much they wanted to have a physical copy to read! (I don’t know if they’re okay with me saying who they are so I am being intentionally vague.)

Do you have kids? No. Please do not make me be responsible for another human life.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? I don’t think I know how to have a conversation without it.

What’s the first thing you notice about people? I have no idea.

What’s your eye color? Brown. I think I’ve had them described as root beer brown before?

Scary movie or happy endings? Happy ending

Any special talents? I’ve always been a pal of few words (verbally), but I know how to make them count for comedic timing. My grandpa called me a pistol when I was like 2 or 3 and I made my sister spit take so often at the dinner table, everyone in my family told me I should become a comedian.

I can read backwards. When I focus on it, I can talk backwards too—whole sentences not single words. I always thought it would be fun to try to have conversations, but idk who I’d talk to?

I’m ambidextrous.

Where were you born? About thirty miles from here.

What are your hobbies? My main hobby at present is just fandom. Writing, making art, reading, discord, tumblr... it all revolves around Snowbaz and the fandom. If I’m not doing any of that, I’m probably descending slowly into madness from not knowing what else to do with myself. Like. What do people do? I used to tap and I used to play drums. I enjoy baking but my kitchen is too small to make it worth my while most of the time.

Do you have any pets? Not at the moment. I had two cats who were my babies. Mr. T, who passed away in 2018, and Batgirl, who passed away in 2020. I think I’m feeling ready to get another cat, but I can’t have pets in my apartment and also I don’t think I can afford to take care of an animal.

What sports do you play/have you played? I briefly played basketball in sixth (?) grade. But I got freaked out when we were going to start playing in actual games so I dropped out. I played soccer for one year, was always put in the goal, got bored, and picked at the grass as my entertainment. I did try volleyball and badminton but never went anywhere with either. I was always told that I had swimmers shoulders, but was too scared to try the swim team. I really don’t like athletic competition, it would seem.

How tall are you? You know, when I was a little kid, some test said I was going to be 6’7”. I…am not. 😂

Favorite subject at school? Fuck me. English? I have a degree in it, so let’s say that. Actually, it was probably Book Arts in college. I remember dreading the work of school, but loving the rush of academic success. So maybe the real answer is, whatever I was doing best in.

Dream job? This is what is known as an oxymoron. Honestly, my current job is pretty ideal as jobs go: I walk to work, I have a four day week, I’m union, I’m pensioned, I’m hourly, I work for my city government so it’s non profit and I know there’s a point to what I’m doing, my boss is very hands off, and I have free time for...tumblr tag games.

Tagging to share if you want or to say hi if you don’t. Hi!! @bazzybelle @bookish-bogwitch @excalisbury @foolofabookwyrm-activated @ivelovedhimthroughworse @jbrrring @moodandmist @martsonmars @mostlymaudlin @nightimedreamersworld @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @stardustasincocaine @tea-brigade @urban-sith @wetheformidables

#tag game #as is my usual custom i drafted this days ago read it over obsessively and still had to convince myself to post it #this is tumblr and nothing matters but tell that to my brain ig

[allwaswell16]

~A Dramatic Louis Fic Rec~

A very special fic rec of dramatic Louis fics as requested in this ask where I get roasted in my own inbox lol. You can find my other fic recs here! Happy reading!

-Larry-

You You You by @isthatyoularry (M, 137k)

“Infamous boybander leaves club together with unknown,” read the headline. Underneath were pictures of a boy with dark curls, green eyes and very tight pants. They both studied the article for a moment, reading it through quickly. “Is that…?” Louis frowned. That guy almost looked exactly like... "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" "Louis," Niall said, looking absolutely fucked over. "You just fucked the most wanted guy on earth. You just fucked Harry Styles of One Direction."

Or, the one where Harry and Louis meet at a club and Louis takes Harry home, only for him to realize that the boy who just made him breakfast half naked is Harry Styles from One Direction.

An Amazing Race Around the World (And to my Heart) by Thingssicant / @sunflowervolh (E, 89k)

“This year marks our thirtieth race around the world, thirty seasons of teams bound by friendship, family, and even some people who just band together for the chance at the prize. But this year, we want to remove that dynamic,” Phil said, rubbing his hands together gently.

The cameras were whirring around them, trying to get every shocked face and gasp from the teams. Louis could feel a ringing in his ears, a new nervousness he hadn’t felt during the entire journey to this competition.

He was sweating more now, more than he could blame on the California sun, as Phil started to read the names of the new teams, the members hugging their loved ones before joining a complete stranger in their new allotted spot.

Or an Amazing race Hate to Lovers au

Sometimes You Just Know by @2tiedships2 (M, 33k)

“Dear diary. Today is going to be a good day, and here’s why...”

“What are you doing?” Louis mumbled as he bit into a piece of toast.

“It’s been almost two years and today Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson reunite. Louis is very excited about…”

Louis’ chair screeched along the kitchen floor as he flew up out of his seat, quickly grabbing the paper from Niall’s grasp. As he scanned the page he found it amounted to lines of nothing.

“What is this?” Louis asked again. “We’ve discussed how Harry Styles will never be spoken of in this flat. I don’t care how long it’s been.”

Niall snatched the paper from Louis and proceeded to draw a line across the page before writing.

“Today is the day that he-who-shall-not-be-named is coming to dinner.”

Or the one where Harry and Louis don’t believe in soulmates… until they do.

A Cuddle Guide, courtesy of Louis by MyEnglishRose / @lwtisloved (T, 23k)

Louis is someone who’s pretty needy and, without being dramatic, would probably die if he didn’t get enough attention during the day, that much he is aware of. Moving in with four boys whose personalities seem to clash with each other and who don’t seem too keen on being affectionate with each other appeared to be a bad move on Louis’ part. He sets a plan, and a guide for himself for this to change.

He just wanted cuddles and for that to become normal. He didn’t really expect to somehow make everyone in the flat so co-dependent on each other and end up with a boyfriend either. But maybe he should have, really.

OR: Platonic Louis-centric OT5 fluff with side Larry and a lot of cuddles and platonic fun

it would take a miracle by bravefortheboys (E, 23k)

In which Niall is the world's greatest sword fighter who's after the son-of-a-bitch that killed his father, Liam is a misunderstood fighter with a heart of gold, Prince Zayn doesn't want to hurt a soul, Harry is the most patient Farm Boy to ever walk the earth, Louis just wants to live a simple life, and somehow everything works out in the end because we're dealing with true love. You think this happens every day?

(AU based on The Princess Bride with the same amount of cheesiness and action but a significantly higher amount of curse words and penis jokes)

i'm a captain on a jealous sea by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain (E, 15k)

It’s not that Louis doesn’t like Nick. He is, if he’s being honest, kind of indifferent. Louis gets that Nick is just doing his job most of the time, being loud and prying, not having boundaries. But it’s just a little too much for Louis’ taste. Louis, who has learned over the years, when to be loud and when to know that coy is the game. But, it doesn’t matter really. He’s not required to like everyone, doesn’t have to make nice with them outside of having a camera shoved in his face. He can let Nick be Nick and it shouldn’t affect Louis at all.

Except.

What Louis actually has a problem with is the way Nick Grimshaw looks at Harry.

This Play Between The Sheets by Harriet1dfan (E, 15k)

Louis: I'm on the bus to meet Harry, if I haven't texted you back in three hours I'm either dead or I've been sold into a sex-trade ring xxHarry: Hi, this is Harry so I'm pretty sure that message wasn’t meant for me. And don't worry, I have no current plans to kill or sell you. See you in five minutes.

Or the totally gratuitous BDSM fic where Louis' is a drama queen and gets far too excited to pay attention to who he's texting.

Like a Walk in the Park by @helloamhere (T, 11k)

Louis needs a million dollars, needs a full redo and apology for Mass Effect 3, needs to redeem his birthday massage certificate. Louis does not need to sit exposed under an open sky and control his facial muscles for hours on end in front of his horrible helpless crush and three most merciless (best) friends. But Zayn is running out to the living room to hide all the controllers, so he’s got no freaking choice.

//or, OT5 has a park day. Louis will probably survive.

baby we’re the new romantics (come on, come along with me) by loustyles2828 (T, 6k)

Louis keeps getting cakes, and he’s certainly not in love with his best mate.

Three Hundred Cupcakes Later by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow (G, 5k)

Louis finds Christmas parties usually too boring or too rowdy. Nothing in between. And this one was definitely bordering on lame... Until he spotted the most handsome man watching him.

I'll Be There by @allwaswell16 (E, 5k)

Louis is less than thrilled to find out his roommate has coerced his nemesis to check on him whilst he's sick in bed. However, Harry seems to take great pleasure in taking care of Louis. Maybe this green smoothie drinking, hot yoga instructing, hair in a bun wearing, pretentious art history studying wanker isn’t so bad after all.

On Monday, Louis thinks Harry's a twat. By Friday, he's thinking of reasons for him to stay.

Love on the b(rain) by TeamLouis (G, 4k)

During a stormy night, when Louis realizes that his precious dog has escaped the house, he has no other choice than calling his ex-husband. Well, ex-husband may be a little too much and maybe Louis is a little dramatic. But stormy nights always get people closer, right?

The Kids Aren't All Right by EmmyLouWho (G, 3k)

Two university students. One left-handed desk.

ft: Louis being very dramatic, muffins, and Shakespeare.

Neapolitan by foxandbee (NR, 3k)

It’s as he’s lying there on the hard, sticky tiles that it dawns on Louis that maybe this wasn’t the best course of action. He could’ve just left the store before the boy came back. But then he’d never be able to show his face in here again and the pretty boy would be left for all eternity thinking that Louis is a weirdo. Louis pouts at that idea. He could’ve just waited for the boy, apologised, and explained that choosing just one ice-cream was so hard, what with their bountiful array of flavours. But no. Louis always has to go for the most dramatic option doesn’t he? He just can’t be a normal human.

Or the story where Harry's a pretty boy in an ice-cream parlour and Louis embarrasses himself.

If I Can't Have You by Janie_17 (T, 2k)

After Harry turns him down, going out for Karaoke is the last thing Louis wants to do, but his friends are persuasive. When Harry shows up with Nick Grimshaw in tow, his evening goes from bad to worse. But will his choice of song manage to turn things around?

-Rare Pairs-

 Pretty Little Plaything by Phillipa19 (Zayn/Louis, E, 55k)

Louis is Zayn's little toy, his precious pet, to play with and keep safe. Zayn is a millionaire and has a lot of work to do he can't always be around to entertain his young lover. Louis's insecurity about losing Zayn's interest means he ends up lying to the older man. How will Zayn react?

driver's license by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment (Zayn/Louis, T, 6k)

“I said to turn left.” “No, you said to turn right.” Louis has no idea what he actually said, but who cares? He’s tired of this superior tone. “Are you seriously arguing with your examiner right now?” See, that’s exactly what Louis is talking about. The guy—Zayn, or whatever—pointedly waits for an answer, and Louis scoffs. “Doesn’t matter who you are, does it? I still know what I heard, and you said ‘right’.” Or: Louis is taking the exam to get his driver’s licence for the 3rd time (okay, sue him), and the examiner keeps getting under his skin. When they suddenly get stranded in the middle of a snow storm, they have to learn to cooperate.

#ficrec #1dficvillage #tracksintheam #trackinghome #trackinghappily #1dsource #quelsentiment #larryyouknow #helloamhere #isthatyoularry #thedevilinmybrain #sunflowervolh #2tiedships2 #lwtisloved

[cryptar]

[KARLNAPITY FIC RECS]

Be My Teenage Dream Tonight

Sapnap-Centric, Glee Club AU with a love triangle that's got me frothing at the mouth, with a pinch of coming out and found family, also pyroduo my beloved.

A Hunch And A Prayer

Oneshot, Sapnap's an assassin posing as a bodyguard for his victim, Quackity, but he can't bring himself to kill him, Karl is after both of their heads

When The Sunlight Dies

Sapnap POV, dream team, adventure, fluff, angst, knights, gods, a royal-fucking-coup, seriously, believe me when I say this is one of my all-time favourite fics.

This Light From All Eclipse

Quackity finds himself stranded on an island in the middle of a storm, with only the echoes of a mysterious lighthouse keeper to keep him company. The waiting begins.

There Is Not Much Time And Time Is Not Fast Enough For Us Anymore

Karl and Sapnap become a new superhero team and are tasked with capturing Quackity. It should be easy, except life is never quite that simple.

Glue Sticks And Paper Rings

Quackity & Tubbo POV, Quackity has a crush, and Tubbo decides to play matchmaker. Shenanigans ensue.

Strange Trails

Karl POV, Feral boys fantasy adventure/action fic, with dragons! and fairytales! and romance!

Wake Up

Oneshot, Karl POV, Karl thinks he's dreaming, so he tries to wake up.

The Fiancés, And Their Adventure In Adopting Traumatized Teenagers

The fiancés unintentionally adopt three horribly, horribly traumatized kids. Because, uh, that's... what you do when you're planning a wedding?

We Must Have Good Pitch, ‘Cause Baby, You and Me are So In Tune!

The Feral Boys band is looking for a new Lead Guitarist and Rhythm guitarist after a string of bad luck and their high standards. With Sunset Band Fever, a local competition, barely 3 weeks away, can they find the missing links to complete their band?

Come Home With Me

Oneshot, Mute!Karl, Quackity is in Las Nevadas. Karl and Sapnap wait for him to come home.

All This And Love Too

Found Family, Hometwt, Quackity, Karl, and Sapnap are hardly paranormal investigators, but Ranboo is a desperate teenager with a missing best friend and no more options.

Hooray

Author recommendation, frequently writes karlnapity-centric one-shots, one of my favourites being 'silver tongue', wonderful especially if you like horror and more serious fics!

Karlburnapity

Wilbur-Centric, Series, Wilbur Joins the polycule.

Downward Spiral

Karl-Centric, Series, Angst, Amnesia, Read these if you like being sad.

Tuck Me In Your Covers, Bring The Colour Back Into My Face

Quackity struggles with PTSD flashbacks after his complicated relationship with Schlatt and is very adamant that he is actually completely fine and doesn’t need any help from his fiancés at all.

You're Dead.

Sapnap is a monster-hunter who was turned into a vampire, said vampire was quackity, who's married to schlatt, which Karl isn't too happy about, oh, also, dream's possessed by a demon, jsyk.

Becoming Fiancés: Through the Good and the Bad(BoyHalo)

Karl, Sapnap and Quackity all propose to each other, but they need their parent's permission first.

But You And I Will Always Be Back Then

Karl POV, mostly honq-centric, Karl travels pre-Imanburg festival and gives Quackity the love he deserves, also he hugs Tubbo.

The Process Of Reliving

Sapnap-Centric, Sapnap kills the ender dragon, lots of dream team angst.

Zinnia

That fic where Karl is slowly losing his memories, and he, Sapnap and Quackity are trying to find out the secrets behind his time travels while also holding their relationship together, before everything falls apart for the final time. 

Into Ice And Snow

Quackity-Centric, Quackity joins the Antarctic Anarchist Commune, and he has wings.

Nowadays

Karl-Centric, time travel, unreality, a really disorientating, incredibly well-written two chapter read, it's like you can fucking feel Karl losing himself.

Out Of The Woods

Karl POV, A new transfer student changes everything, shoving Karl into the woods and possibly ruining his “perfect” life plan.

Between Memories and Brewing Storms

Hometwt, Ranboo collapses beside a house in the rain, Three fiancées take him in, but even as his life brightens, new clouds appear on the horizon.

I Can't Think A Thought Without Wishing You Were Here

Quackity POV, Quackity's a cheerleader with a crush on his best friend; AND said best friends jock boyfriend.

Iridescent Eyes

Oneshot, Crack, Mason and Jack Kernoff hold Karl Jacobs hostage.

#karlnapity #dsmp #mcyt #karl jacobs #quackity #sapnap #quacknap #honq #karlnap #fic rec #dsmp fic rec #fic recommendation #karlnapity fic recommendation #long post #dream smp