#I think it’s because every fic I’ve read from this fandom so far has been written like actual poetry

[autistichanseo]

I have a (little shitty) mjjw oneshot I made around the finale but for some reason I’m scared to post it despite already having posted a fic before 😭

[totheblood]

I honestly think a big reason we don’t see as many fics that are focused on plot is because a lot of people currently in the fandom haven’t even played/watched a full play through of the game and are literally only here to read smut about a hot masc lesbian they don’t really even know much about.

I feel like the stories posted in this fandom used to be so rich and the writers used to write Ellie so well because they joined this fandom because they loved her as a character. So many of them were based in tlou universe (which we hardly see anymore I feel like) and had plot beyond smut. And the AUs that used to be put out were about life and falling in love and not just being railed by hot masc (true blue always comes to mind <3),

I feel like I may be wording all of this weird but basically, I think initially everyone’s love for the video game itself and their love for Ellie as a character made the fics more complex, interesting, and passionate by default. But now, with so many ppl who write for Ellie for the pure purpose of smut, it seems like a lot of the magic has been lost.

Also, as much as all of the responsible adults in this fandom try to avoid it, there are minors at every corner. It’s extremely evident by their writing and the way they post.

Idk. I love smut. I don’t want to sound like a hater because I feel like it’s really hard to say anything without being labeled as one. And at the end of the day, people can write what they want. But there is a clear different in the quality of this fandom in Jan-March vs how it is now!

this is beautifully written, and with the last part i agree. i hope i don’t come off as a hater or anything as someone who really enjoys smut as well and i dont ever want to dictate what someone writes and doesn’t write. in these posts im mostly speaking for myself and not really saying a lot about other people. we have insanely talented people who primarily write smut with interesting plot lines, etc etc etc. i know tumblr is mostly smut in any fandom though, i just really love fleshed out fanfiction stories which is why i try to write those.

but the first part is true and i fell victim to it. as someone who has played the game and watched run throughs multiple times, i’ve strayed soooo far from the plot and most of my fics are au’s with ellie’s character still semi intact. this is also a main reason i wrote cutty love because i saw myself primarily writing modern day au’s and wanted to delve back into canon tlou. the fortunate part is the world tlou is set in gives a lot of opportunities for plot, storylines, and angst and i wish more people, including me, took advantage of that.

there is a deep magic to loving a character dearly that i know a lot of people have here. so i hope we get more of that!

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Pricklywhicket/@messessentialist ! Prickleywhicket has four fics published to AO3 -- All in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by pricklywhicket:

so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey

it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)

start by pulling him out of the fire

"Sadie is so super talented in the way she describes literally everything. She is so good at writing and it's a shame that she's flown under the radar because she's not the quickest at putting things out there." -- Anonymous

Below the cut, Pricklywhicket answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Why do any of us write anything? Because we want the story to exist in the world, and it doesn’t yet, so we gotta hike up our pants and do it ourselves!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Hurt/Comfort. I’m always a sucker for the blorbos taking care of one another, in whatever form that takes. This has always been true, across a truly astronomical number of fandoms I’ve found myself dabbling in over the years.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

…actually, probably hurt/comfort! I just need to get those little dudes some validation and unconditional positive regard, okay?

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I’m sure I won’t be the first one to say this, but: I HAVE TO PICK ONE????? Okay, alright. I can do this. I’m gonna say…Sanctuary by SpicedSage.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve only written canon or canon-adjacent fic so far, so I’m eager to work on something that’s completely AU. I think there’s a unique challenge to keeping characters recognizable as themselves in a world that might not have all the same contexts that made them into that person.

What is your writing process like?

I would love to say it’s super organized and well-planned, but the truth is it’s mostly about routine and responsibility. I set aside time to do it every day, even if I can only tap out a few sentences. I’m not very strict about writing in a straight line - I can stop a scene if it’s giving me trouble, write a note about what I think happens in some [brackets], and move on to something that I have more fully fleshed-out ideas for. Sometimes writing the next scene helps you know more about what needs to happen in the current one. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I'm sure my betas would say yes 🙃 I tend to write a lot of dialogue - a lot of my revision process is going back through and realizing I have two pages of a conversation with no indication of what’s physically happening in the world around the speakers.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Definitely when I’m finished. Prior to my ‘23 bang fic, I had never written anything chaptered. I knew going in that I could NOT start posting if it wasn’t finished, because I’ve been burned too many times by abandoned works. I didn’t want to do that to people reading my fic, and the best way to avoid it is to finish before you post.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Easily start by pulling him out of the fire. The biggest, most ambitious thing I’ve ever attempted - I still kind of can’t believe I wrote 85k.

How did you get the idea for start by pulling him out of the fire?

Like most terrible ideas, it was spawned in a fandom discord chat. We were discussing the tendency of Steddie fics to centralize the party at Steve’s house, because his parents are never there anyway. And then someone mentioned what if the parents came home and found their house occupied, and someone else mentioned Wayne being there, and it just sort of…spiraled out from there.

When writing start by pulling him out of the fire, what was something you didn’t expect?

I had no idea, going in, that I was going to write a comprehensive history of the Wayne and Eddie Munson relationship. I started writing it where I did to give some background on Wayne’s existing distaste for the elder Harrington, and then I just…kept writing. Over the course of a month or two I wrote 20k of WayneAndEddie that I had no idea was in me - it just kept coming.

What inspired it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

@wynnyfryd. It was a gift for her birthday. We were talking about our mutual love of Letterkenny, and she mentioned that the episode was her favorite and wouldn’t it be funny if someone wrote… and the rest is history.

What was your favorite part to write from it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

I had an unreasonable amount of fun with that one in general. But I think my favorite part was Eddie polling the party about what Steve means to them all. It was fun to sort of put myself in each character’s shoes and think about how they would answer. Plus y’know, any excuse to unironically love on Steve Harrington.

How do/did you feel writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey?

I believe my exact words upon deciding to write it were “jingles miserably to a blank google doc.” This was a classic case of saying “god I wish there was a fic where—” and having friends tell me that it was now my responsibility to write it. I’m glad I did, though. I love that story, and it proved to me that I could write sex and publish it and not burst into flames. I also just really, really love summer storms. And Wayne’s use of the singular ‘herpe.’

What was the most difficult part of writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats honey?

Getting over the fear of publishing something E-rated. It was just something I hadn’t done, and I had a lot of anxiety that people were not going to respond well to it. I made three people individually review the sex scenes before I even asked anyone to beta the full fic. Of course I was worried for nothing, the reception for that fic was super lovely and gave me the confidence boost I needed to attempt start by pulling him out of the fire!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This is like asking me to pick a favorite child. I’ll say this: most of my favorite lines in start by pulling him out of the fire were taken directly from conversations @wormdebut and I had about the fic. She’s my number one cheerleader and sounding board, and sometimes she’s so goddamn funny that I just have to include it. You have her to thank, for instance, for Steve quite literally dropping his croissant when he first sees Eddie in glasses.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I have a couple of irons in the fire, but nothing I’m ready to share just yet! I’ve been taking a breather from writing (blame baldur’s gate 3, okay) but my WIPs are still very much IP. Stay tuned!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Not that I can think of!

Thank you to our author, Pricklywhicket, and our anonymous nominator! See more of pricklywhicket's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[boltonbritreads]

I am at the point of truly begging anons to stop sending hate to writers and ruining the ability for people to share their writing and others to get to read and engage with it. It literally just ruins everything for everyone and taints a space that’s supposed to be anything from comfort, escapism, a creative outlet, to hanging out with friends.

truly- what is the goal? what do you get out of pushing writers off the platform and making a fandom have even less engagement? I wish there was a “stop, are you really sure you want to send that message” screen before you could send anons sometimes so bc of that…..

🖤🖤 Eddie Munson Fic Rec List! 🖤🖤

as a reader who gets so much comfort and vital escapism from fanfic I want to just shout out some incredible stories I’ve been following/read lately:

*totally non exhaustive and just what I could remember at work!!* I’m hoping to add more & eventually made a proper list

@munson-blurbs’s “Trapped Under Ice” - truly lovely single dad eddie story that has so much heart and fluff and getting to see Eddie and Ms Sweetheart build their relationship and grow together has been so satisfying and lovely to read

@corroded-hellfire “As You Wish” I can’t even put into words 😩 I’m so down bad for this eddie and this fic and every single time reader gets to gets to spend time with Luke and Ryan and eddie gets even more smitten I melt

@upsidedownwithsteve’s “Simmer”!! I am truly losing my mind over simmer and as a fellow crybaby who just needs that extra comfort sometime, I yearn for Simmer!Eddie. Truly this fic means so much to me and I relate so so much to reader it makes me cry

@pinkrelish “The Yes Policy” - I mean, do I even have to say anything? It’s everything you could ever want and more in an eddie fic and the descriptions and imagery in every chapter my god ♥️🐭

@abibliophobiaa “Daylight” - holy shit I can’t express the itch this fic scratches it’s just the best and an absolute fluffy comfort fest. Lovesick Eddie, Unplanned Pregnancy reader, strangers to friends to lovers, cuddling in bed?? what more can you ask for?? I really love how *spoilers* eddie has accepted his feelings for reader and is just waiting for if/when she decides to go further with him, ball in her court

@sunflowergirl522 - “M’Lady, M’Lord” oh my this was so good and fun to read!! I’m such a sucker for goofy eddie and seeing reader meet him where he is and be playful back is just *chefs kiss*

@ghost-proofbaby - ok so basically anything Ghost has ever written is incredible but my highlights are “24 hours” because of course it is like ?? such a cool concept and the execution was perfection. I haven’t felt like I’m on the edge of my seat week-to-week for a fic in a while and seeing everyone react to each chapter and collectively lose our minds was so fun and something I love about fanfic!! After you’ve read “24 hours,” head on over to “So Scarlet (It was Maroon)” for some angst and pain and then chase it with “Coffee Shop Blues” for cute slice of life at a coffee shop with barista!eddie 🥰

@neonghostlights - “To the Moon & Back” alien eddie!!! I’m loving this series so far and how much fun and tension can be built into the dynamic of alien eddie and reader who have some language/cultural barriers but also like…..eddie gets it 👀👅

@harrywavycurly - there’s truly so much to choose from!! their master list has so much and there’s all kinds of text fics to dip into and a whole universe of Eddie’s! I personally love and am following “Trouble Next Door,” “It Was Just One Night,” and “Eddie’s Wish.” I desperately want TND eddie and reader to just get to smooch and cuddle but uh….I think getting over being cheated on and getting a divorce takes longer than I’d like 🫤

@carolmunson “Orange Coloured Sky” the older!eddie of dreeeeeeams my god 😍 from start to current this story has been so fun to follow and I’m loving the characterisation of this older eddie who is confident and hot but also….such a dork like immediately texting Steve “she said I’m the best she’s ever had 😎” I can’t

@luveline - ok anything and everything Jade has ever written, literally an entire treasure trove of a master list and the obviously heavy hitters are “June Baby!” and the “Eddie and Roan” series for all of the baby fever of reading about eddie and a cute baby but I also wanted to shout out the fic “A Quest for Bed” because it was so gosh darn sweet and fluffy and I love seeing eddie take care of reader once in a while

@trashmouth-richie - again another obvious incredible gorgeous fic “Honey I’m Home,” it’s so so beautiful and heart wrenching and funny and I’m in awe of the compassion and tenderness show towards the characters in this story. I adore HIH with everything but also “Do You Like How the Water Tastes” has been such a fun new story to dig into! I feel like I truly can’t predict what each chapter will be like and I keep being surprised by how Eddie interacts with reader and it makes each new chapter so exciting to read bc I think it’ll go one way and then I’m totally surprised!!

[realbeefman]

Do you have any good house fic recs? I am Struggling with my search.

for sure! although Disclaimer, i havent been reading house fanfic for very long and ive pretty much only read house/wilson so far, SO this is more of a hilson fic rec list than anything lol

Warning Signs by out_there - oneshot, 12k words, Wilson-POV, set around the end of s3. SUCH A GOOD FIC i laughed so much while reading this. genuinely delightful. possibly my fav house fic i’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.

The Line of Thought by tevinterimperium - oneshot, 12k, Wilson-POV, set after s3 e15. THEEE classic fake-dating AU. this was the first fic i read in this fandom and it absolutely fucks. im a SAP i love a good “no homo but OH GOD THE FEELINGS” plot!!

Desert Mesa Motel - 8 miles outside of Kingman, Arizona - 12:03 AM by plorp - ficlet, 1k, House-POV, post-canon. this makes me BAWL. very very good fic but SAD. and DEPRESSING. will make you CRY/pos

How Not To Be Boring by fourleggedfish - incomplete/abandoned, 497k, Wilson-POV, AU from around mid-s5. if u like whump (which i absolutely do) u will probably like this fic. if u are squicked out by sex, u will hate it bc these guys bang 24/7. this fic had me pacing, glued to my phone, sick to my stomach, crying (several times), and obliterated my sleep schedule. i can’t rec it highly enough. every chapters includes appropriate content warnings, but some major themes that appear throughout are character death (not of main characters), the aftermath of severe child abuse, and mental illness. if any of these topics are a trigger for you, please don’t read this work.

Forsake Me Here by MonsterBoyf - complete, 8k, Wilson-POV, ambiguous setting. Wilson has intrusive thoughts about mutilating House. He tries to cope. features a lot of very graphic imagery and does an excellent but extremely accurate job of portraying an OCD-spiral that could be triggering to people. i LOVE this fic i think about it so so much.

An Inconvenient Truth by anathaema - complete, 15k, House-POV, ambiguous setting. contains the quote “You’re the suicide bomber of revelations” and is one of the funniest things i’ve ever read. plus the way in which wilson’s sexuality in this fic is handled is honestly so realistic and entertaining. HIGHLY recc this to absolutely everyone who enjoys hilson

the more it took away by scribespirare - oneshot, 10k, House-POV, ambiguous setting. Omega!House has his first heat since presenting. Alpha!Wilson helps him through it. I LOVE OMEGAVERSE AND I LOVE FUCK OR DIE AND I LOVE THE WAY THIS FIC HANDLES THIS IS JUST GRAHHHH. If u don’t enjoy omegaverse u won’t like this but i can’t make a house fic rec list and NOT include this one

Aftershocks by black_cigarette - series, around 125k in total, various POV’s, set sometime post-Tritter arc. this fic IS gen, but honestly, i didn’t know that going in and didn’t realize it wasn’t a slash fic until the very end. tldr is that wilson is brutally assaulted because house has been gambling with some unsavory people, and house helps him deal with the aftermath. this fic does not pull punches. its is extremely graphic and everything wilson goes through is described in detail. it is a messy story about recovering from brutal trauma and everything that entails. DISCLAIMER: there are sequel(s) to this series available on the author’s livejournal, but i haven’t read them and can’t speak to anything they discuss.

no need to worry (making up your mind) by scribespirare - complete, 25k, House-POV, set sometime in the early seasons. House lies about having a Jewish boyfriend to get out of visiting his mother at Christmas. Things quickly get out of hand. THIS FIC IS SOOO *tears into it with my teeth*. I love when they scheme together <3

[carlos-in-glasses]

2023 Writing Round Up

Thank you for the tag @heartstringsduet @reasonandfaithinharmony @jesuisici33 @chicgeekgirl89 @thisbuildinghasfeelings @theghostofashton @orchidscript @welcometololaland @ladytessa74 @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @alrightbuckaroo

Rules: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones you're most excited about.

15 fics this year! I have loved writing and sharing every one of them. Thank you to everyone who has read or will at some point. Work is a lot busier these days, so I don’t anticipate writing the same volume in 2024…but we shall see! I just want whatever I share to be good quality, and it’s my New Year’s resolution to keep improving. I love Tarlos. I love writing Tarlos fic. I love this fandom.

January

The Ruins of Wonderland – a reimagining of TK and Carlos getting back together after their breakup. I posted this on New Year’s Day, resolving to start 2023 off on the right fanfic foot.

Chasers – A coda for 3x13. TK talks to Cooper about his past, while Carlos goes for a swim and thinks about his own. When Carlos gets home, he and TK have an important chat. The rection to this fic spurred me on to continue writing in the flashback/vignette/timeline format.

February

Man to Man – A coda for 2x11 and 2x12, which also looks at Carlos coming out to his parents and where he is now with it all.

March

Afterglow of a Supernova – When fiancés TK and Carlos help Carlos’ high school crush and his wife during a call, they end up having a dinner with them that leads to jealousy in an unexpected way. The feedback I’ve had on this fic sent me to the moon on rainbows.

April

The Heart Behind the Shield – My first chaptered fic! I'd been wanting to write a 2x08 coda, but it was 4x04 that made it possible. This combines events from both episodes where there’s duality, and was an absolute blast to write and post.

The Light of Our Life – Listen, I wrote this during an extended lunch break and posted it the same day. For somehow it’s my fifth most kudos’d fic of the year…Thank you!!! We were all deep in our Lou II feelings at this time. Never forget.

Fire Island – TK and Carlos travel to Fire Island, where an older gay couple talks to them about their experience of the AIDS crisis in 1980s New York. This fic by far had the most emotional impact on me while writing it, and based on feedback it seems to be the same for readers(?) People have shared personal stories and memories with me since I posted this, and I just want to say I’m truly grateful for the response, given I wrote it in January but didn’t feel brave enough to post it for a few months.

May

With Infinity Folded Into It – Written for the @tarlosweeklyprompts Countdown to the Wedding event (prompt was: Love). After TK proposes, Carlos remembers the first time they said “I love you.” It’s fluff, it’s smut, it’s kinda angsty because Carlos is trying to bake and baking is stressful.

The Center of the Maze – Another written for Tarlos Weekly Prompts Countdown to the Wedding. (Prompt: "I Never Thought I Would Get This Day".) I thought this was going to be a 2k one-shot; it turned into 20k split into 4 chapters… Seven times they thought they would never get married, and one time when they actually did. I was super inspired and happy with the writing in this one.

June into July

When Soulmates Swim – The closest I’ll ever come to writing a sports AU (….or is it?👀…) Sparks and splashes fly when TK and Carlos each take up swimming while they recover from workplace injuries. I really pushed myself with smut and humour in this fic and the feedback I’ve had has been incredible. One of the most enjoyable writing experiences I’ve ever had, this fic holds a special place in heart.

Release The Hand to Relax the Animal – TK and Carlos explore the world of tantric massage in their own way. Written because Rafael Silva has madly attractive hands, and @heartstringsduet and I thought we should celebrate. You can read Michelle’s hands fic, Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life, Too, here. It is BEAUTIFUL.

(Nothing in August)

September

Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines – A 3x08 coda, which also gets into TK and Carlos’ childhood memories of 9/11, and the way that event went on to impact their lives (to the point where it set them on the path to meeting each other). It recieved the most amazing comments, with people sharing their memories of 9/11, so like Fire Island this fic feels deeper to me in a social way.

October

Suddenly in the Silence – I’d ‘joked’ about the show giving us Ghost Gabriel in season 5, but a conversation with thisbuildinghasfeelings led me to explore that concept myself. In this fic, it’s up to the reader to decide whether they think the spirit of Gabriel is around, which made writing it challenging but a lot of fun. It’s so interesting to see what side people fall on!

November

Where All This Love Comes From – This is my Tarlos novel at ~90k words, due to finish posting in February. I began writing it in March, when a hefty amount of plot relied on Gabriel being alive after season 4. Substantial rewrites happened after May, which was pretty gutting at the time, but ultimately I think this has ended up being the best thing I’ve written so far in my life.

December

There is a smutty one-shot coming with a scream very soon…And I hope you like it!

I'm not sure who has already done this - tagging with no pressure if you want to share/haven't already - and open tag!

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @goodways @lemonlyman-dotcom @paperstorm @wandering-night19 @heartstringsduet @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @rmd-writes @rosedavid @chaotictarlos @lightningboltreader @taralaurel @three-drink-amy @redshirt2 @noxsoulmate @sanjuwrites @bonheur-cafe @liminalmemories21

❤️🩷🧡💛❤️🩷🧡💛

[houseofhyde]

dressed in white (putting off crying).

pairing. daemon targaryen x fem!reader

synopsis. he knows of those who whisper that seeing the bride in her dress before the couple stands beneath the eyes of the seven births nothing but bad luck for a marriage, but daemon targaryen cares little for superstitions.

warnings. canon appropriate sexism/misogyny, implied valyrian!reader, implied incest (if you interpret this as the reader being targaryen), daemon is a simp for his lover!, likely ooc!daemon (i'm new to writing for him, i’ll get better, i'm sorry), poorly translated high valyrian, angst, fluff, descriptions of sex.

word count. 5.6k

hyde's input. lmao the title is based off a lyric from the (superior) the 1975 song meanswear. this whole scenario has been playing on my brain since i first watched hotd and i need to get it out before it drives me crazy by living in my tiny pea-brain for too long. i literally only made this blog to post this (since it wouldn't suit the writings on my main blog), so idk if i'll actually post anything else on here but feedback would be appreciated! anyway, daemon is a menace to society, i love him. sidenote,, i've always been terrified to post any fics in the got/hotd fandoms because istg every writer in this fandom has a god-like level of prose and it intimidates me, so please be nice if you think this sucks :) i’ve only read through this once, there may be spelling errors but it’s late and i just want to post this already!!!

tight braids rip hair from skull, gold incased jewels trap a delicate neck in a chokehold, stiff fabrics snuff out any heat of the westerosi sun from gracing dampened skin.

you aim to breathe in an air of relief for your aching lungs, yet the maiden behind you denies you of such a virtue as she pulls tighter on the set of strings holding up your bodice. you grow more lightheaded, oxygen starved body swaying momentarily, as a few more of your ladies in waiting assist with dressing you in the white coffin, lace cuffing your wrists like shackles and the weight of the gown feeling akin to that of a great beast, be it the weight of a stag, or a lion, or a wolf.

or a dragon.

“please,” hardly recognising your own voice, you flinch at the broken rasp that makes its way past your lips. your throat burns, your stomach churns, your eyes carry bags beneath them. far from a blushing bride, you are. the days of celebration leading up to the ceremony have taken an effect on both your mind and body, restless nights leading to uneaten feasts and unquenched thirsts. alas, you push such thoughts to that corner in your mind you reserve for nothing but tales of docile dragons and knights in dirtied armor as you straighten your stand, shoulders rising and head holding itself high. “may i have a moment of solitude within my chambers?”

your ladies shoot their attention over to the eldest among them, a septa who's hair has grown a deeper shade of grey with the passing of time and face has grown wrinkled by a history of smiles and laughter, and who bares the name of dorothea.

“of course, lady y/n. every woman must steal her last moment of solitude before she marries herself off to her lord husband. solitude will be sparse once you are wed.”

like an army of men, though far more graceful and colourful, the ladies make way towards the entrance of your chambers, spilling out in a single file line and shutting the door behind them.

and finally you breathe.

once, twice, thrice, and then you are a mess of desperate gasps and trembling limbs. you make your way over to the mirror which centres the room, steps more of an uncoordinated tumble than a graceful walk of a future lady of court.

met with your own reflection, something feels off. like a lack of connection, your astute mind can not fathom how this frail, tired, solemn looking girl bares any resemblance to the confident, bright eyed and quick witted woman you'd grown to be.

you trace your hands over the flaring of the dress' skirt, as if working out the creases in the fabric will loosen the ones that line your forehead. so caught up in your own unfitting image, you barely register the reopening of your chambers door.

“please, dorothea,” you sigh the woman's name out like she's bound to you by something more motherly than mere duty, the years spent in her company making for far better memories than the fleeting time you've passed with your true mother. “just a few more minutes. i'm... not ready. not yet.”

“i should hope not, you've yet to finish fastening the buttons on that ridiculous gown they've forced you into.”

the first thing you notice as your eyes meet the mirror once more is that your frown has deepened.

“you can't-” the second thing is him, dressed in the onyx and blood colours of his house, his newly shortened hair styled in a way that gives him a near boyish charm. the only visible slither of dark sister- nothing but a handle pressing into his left side- reminds you this is no boy, but a man, brutal and abrasive and protective, fresh from a victorious battle in which he walked away with a crown and the offering of another sword for his brother's throne. you're quick to correct your choice of words. “you shouldn't be here, prince daemon.”

if you were anyone else, you'd think the prince cares little- if anything- for the words you cast his way, arms clasped behind his back as he strides across the room with an air of arrogance, confidence, the stature of a man who not only belonged within your chambers but within your heart.

but, alas, you are you, and that means a great deal when it comes to the study of one targaryen prince. only you would notice the twitch in his brow, the snarl across his lips that is quickly denied in exchange for a smirk, the slight shrink of his shoulders as the weight of the truth sets itself upon them.

he's displeased.

whether the reason be your unusual use of his title- an act he knows you've committed with the foolish hope of putting distance between you both, if not physically then at least in power- or your attempt to banish him from your quarters evades you, but it matters little, really, for daemon is still approaching you.

he's upon you quicker than you expected, quicker than you wanted.

“let me.” two words, simple and used from the most common of folk to the most regal of lords, uttered in an infinite number of scenarios. yet, they may be your undoing as the silver haired man welcomes himself to the feel of your skin, a single finger trailing it's way down what remains exposed of your back. the touch mimics a shiver, something that tickles down your spine in a disturbingly enjoyable manner.

you nod your approval, too afraid to open your mouth and see what sounds he elicits from you, your heart too long starved of affection and his gentle caress the first it's tasted in years.

the fear of speaking carries on even as he departs from your skin, both hands joining in finishing the task of clasping your dress together. maybe this is worse, you think, having his knuckles bump against you every so often as he fiddles with the pearly white buttons, teasing you with what could be, what could've been.

“i never imagined us marrying under the seven.” part of you believes he's mocking you, torturing you with words he knows will wrap around your heart like vines and pierce the delicate organ with its thorns. you wonder if this is the targaryen prince known for his callous words and disregard for the sentiment of another come out to show you his true colours once and for all, gone now the days where he'd shower you in expensive metals and feed you the sweetest of treats.

he catches your line of sight in the reflective glass and his smile widens, pulling his lips with a heavy sense of dishonesty that makes your insides twist. never did you think there'd come a day where daemon targaryen would fake a smile towards you.

“īlva qilōni carry se ānogar hen uēpa valyria should dīnagon isse se ways hen uēpa valyria.” us who carry the blood of old valyria should marry in the ways of old valyria. there was a moment in time- back when the sight of a man was enough to make you blush- that you believed there was nothing, and no one, that compared to the beauty of hearing daemon speak his ancestral language, the old flame of valyria setting his soul ablaze. as you stand now, eyes stuck on watching how he's focused on one particularly stiff button, you find only heartache in hearing him speak high valyrian. not even the way he breaks his composed facade- though only for a mere handfull of seconds- to frown and scowl down at the stubborn button is enough to ease the tension in your chest. “ondos bound ondoso ānogar, daor dovodedha cloth.” hands bound by blood, not silly cloth.

by the time he finishes off fastening your gown, bile burns the back of your throat as his hands smooth down your back, painfully slow in their travels, giving you enough time to think of how this isn't how things were meant to be.

daemon was supposed to be the one eagerly tearing off your dress, not trapping you in its suffocating confines.

you decide to play into his fantasy, to let not only him but also yourself indulge in the sweet naïveté of wishful thinking.

“skoros ābrar gōntan ao imagine syt īlva?” what life did you imagine for us?

he takes a breath, pausing the conversation and inhaling as if to stable his wavering heart, focus his mind on choosing his next words wisely or run the risk of you shoving him away completely.

when he at last answers, you wish you'd never asked.

“i saw us trading life in the keep for dragonstone, making a home for ourselves where the targaryen history runs deepest. it's where we'd wed, where i'd get to listen to you swear vows to me that carry true meaning, unlike the shit i’ll have to endure hearing you spew later in the sept.” relief floods over you like a great storm as he switches back to the common tongue, a downpour which serves to dampen the fiery passion in his voice. his hands have found rest upon your mid-riff, large and warm and protective in the way they pull you back against his muscular chest. “we'd host feasts for whenever my brother insists on visiting us to keep up appearances of a false bond between his new family and his old one. you'd teach me about other languages, so i could express my adoration for you in every tongue known to man, and i'd show you what it is to never want for anything, make sure you own every possession you desire and feel every emotion you require.

“when we're not busy playing politics, in the moments you're not teaching our sons how to thread needles and to be good husbands, while i encourage our daughters to wield swords and to be strong, we'd spend that time in the throes of pleasure." the blunt ends of his nails dig deep into the layers of fabric, as if he's trying to tear the dress off to reveal the real you beneath, the you he's become all too enthralled by. the you that's bare, and pliant, and begging for his touch in a way that is not only sexual but primal, as though you'd perish if not for the brush of his lips against yours and warmth of his body casting over you like a shadow meant to seal you away from the harsh world. "fuck a marital bed, we'd make it into a marital home, a marital garden, a marital beach. i'd take you anywhere, work my fingers into you till they are broken, bruise my knees just to drink your sweet nectar, fuck you so full of my seed till it has nowhere else to go and no choice but to drip out of you, covering us in our brutal lovemaking.”

“daemon-”

“they'll tire of us, eventually, all our poor maids and guards. tire of catching me with you bent over any surface, tire of hearing you chant my name like i'm your only god. they'll be running back to kingslanding with their tails tucked between their legs, ready to spread the gossip of just how insatiable the rogue prince and his ravishing wife really are.”

“daemon, you really-”

“we can still have that life, my love.” he sounds so hopeful, glances upon you so eagerly in the reflective glass that you near crumble to the ground if not for the support of his arms around you. “hmm, wouldn't you prefer we do that, instead of this over the top ceremony that'll leave you with nothing but a headache and sore feet?”

the heartache behind his intentions sedates the anger that quells within your chest, way past the layers of bodice. it is not born from nowhere, this anger. not a fiery pit lit from an explosive catastrophe but, rather, a sole flame that has simmered and festered and burned for a near three years, mothered by solitude and fathered by abandonment.

“no, we can't.” intending to put your foot down, reign in control over yourself, hands reaching to tear his tiresome hold off of you, you're bereft to find yourself sighing a breath that leaves clear the exhaustion you've been harbouring- far beyond just physical, deep in the trenches of neglected emotions- , body melting into a puddle at his feet upon watching the familiar sight of your embracing limbs in the reflection. bitterness bites the back of your throat in this repeat of familiar history: you, daemon and bodies touching away from prying eyes and gossiping courtiers. “my father... he'd have your head, daemon. after everything he has done to secure this union happened... after all the rumours... it wouldn't be fair to him.”

daemon hums out an acknowledgement and you nearly convince yourself he's in agreement, that he understands the repercussions that would entail if you gave in to his game of make-believe; that he knows these pretty words that once were a gift for a younger version of yourself to hear, all tied up in a bow made of his velvet kisses upon your silk skin, have become a punishment meant to torment a child who'd dared to play with a toy that was never hers to touch in the first place.

all hope of redemption is lost with the tightening of his hold.

muscles flex beneath the red of his sleeves, an unspoken promise of the strength he harbours, the brute force he’d be more than willing to use should someone aim to take you from his hold. what follows is a resounding silence, where you’re too shaken to speak and his head rests it’s weight on your shoulder, the near-white crown of his head staring back at you in the mirror as it blends with the white of your gown. he burrows his face into the spot where your neck meets your shoulders, hiding whatever broken, troubled, pathetic- his own word for sad- expression paints his features.

“i thought you would wait for me.”

and just like that, the illusion is shattered, an accusatory tone to his voice which leaves behind nothing of the false sense of bliss or the hopeful future but jagged shards scattered along the ground, threatening to split your skin and make you bleed should you dare to clean it up.

“how could i, prince daemon?” the anger works its way through the cracks in your broken heart, taking up the space you’d once reserved for tears and forgiveness. “you left. no words, no warning, no goodbye. my loyalty is with my father and my house, and therefore marrying to secure a fruitful alliance for said house comes above all, even petty little princes.”

“i was banished! by my own brother! by your own-” he halts the words before he can speak them. though the dragon in him is awakening- the slightest of conflict rousing the ugly defensive side of him-, he stubbornly holds his position, eyes squeezing shut a little tighter to fight out the light of reality he’s trying to evade. “and now here i return to find the one person i came back for could not wait a measly three years for me!”

“if you think i’ve waited only three years for you, you’re an even greater fool than otto hightower.”

the prince tenses, the mention of his sworn nemesis (a feat which had earned him plenty a mockery on your end, forever bereft at the fact a supposed grown man could live with a near-playground level of hatred for another) causing the fire within him to grow more violent. he unwinds himself from the hold he’s got on you, arms dropping to his side and face rising from it’s hiding spot within your skin. in the mirror, he looms over you, staring down at you like he’s the red wyrm and you are but a helpless doe moments away from having your flesh burnt by his fire.

“forgive me, lady y/n,” the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention as darkness overcomes his voice, matching the expression on his face. “i wasn’t aware of how deep your loyalty ran for you to whore yourself out so easily for some lord’s name and gold.”

with the twist of an ankle, you come face to face with the dragon prince, chest heaving with each laboured breath which fails to calm your nerves and nose blowing out what you imagine to be the steam of your fiery anger. you stagger back, he leans forward. hands land on your elbows and steady you, draw you nearer till the mounds of your breasts brush against his cloth-covered chest. 

daemon is stunned to silence, a rare feat, as he gazes down at you and sees not the woman who’s wrapped up in white lace but the girl who’d been covered in tears and carried fear in her eyes as she took in the sight of the man she’d crashed into- quite literally, as he’d enjoyed reminding you whenever you had gotten a little too generous with the wine and led yourself down the path of unadulterated reminiscing in his chambers- in the halls of the keep. he remembers how it felt to truly look upon your face for the first time, to be lulled into a sedated state just by hearing your soft voice stuttering out apologies, to part ways from you with hands still burning from the heat of your flesh, refusing to cool down even as he sat among the small council, too busy clenching his fists and questioning what exactly was so bewitching about the maiden he’d caught in distress.

a sharp sting to his cheek is enough to shatter the memory, bringing him out of the looking glass of the past and into the present where your eyes are filled with more disgust than tears and the burn of your flesh is against his face instead of his hands.

you’d slapped him.

by gods, you’d actually struck him.

if the circumstances called for it, the prince wonders if his cock would be stiffening by now.

“you, of all people, have no right to call me a whore, lord fleabottom.”

“and yet i seem to recall you begging me to call you that during our past encounters.”

you grab at his collar, sharp nails digging into the dark material as if it were his windpipes, crushing them under your brutish strength. tugging him down with what you believe to be force- and what is truly just him giving into your attempt-, the pair of you find yourselves eye to eye, nose to nose, frown to frown.

oh, yes, his cock would certainly be hard, were his heart not so weak.

“you are a despicable excuse of a man.” you mean to spit the words in his face, praying to all the old gods and the new for this feeling to truly be hatred, disgust, disdain. three years have passed and, with it, so has your love, leaving a gapping hole meant only to be filled with hate. were it not for the shaking of your free hand, or the pounding of your heart in your ears, you’d believe your prayers had been answered. alas, the gods are cruel and your words fall only as a whisper on his ears. “i pity the women who have been scorned with loving you.”

“come now, my lady, you were always so against those who pitied themselves.”

“do you hear how pathetic you sound?” taken aback by his rebuttal, your response comes with a moments delay, one you hope he does not notice. the grin he casts down at you proves otherwise, and serves as yet another plank of dry wood tossed on to the blazing embers of your ire. “i am to be married come high noon, and you are already a married man! put aside your wants and realise your duty, perhaps then your king would not see it necessary to rid himself of you.”

“and what a marriage it’ll be, my lady! with your dearest lord cunt lannister parading you around as though you are some prized deer he’s caught for a feast, and you drowning yourself in riches and wines to forget the horrid memory of his red face above yours.” he matches your own grip on him, his far larger and far stronger hand shooting out to take a hold of you by the neck of your dress. he’s a brute, tugging on the expensive cottons like they are no more than the clothes of a common whore. “rumour has it your dear husband-to-be is one of those one-pump-chumps, so at the very least he’ll get it over with quickly, allowing you to roll over and bring yourself some satisfaction as his pathetic seed paints your thighs.”

“at least my marriage will be consummated!” daemon scoffs as quickly as the words have shot out your mouth, no harm coming from them, not with how many nights he’d spent in your sheets claiming he’d sooner fuck his own dragon than touch his so-called bronze bitch. the real kicker, the true spear through his pride, the thing you know only by rumour and not by fact, is what you say next. “meanwhile you’ll continue to chase pleasure in whores who look like me from the back, but just never quite sound, smell, taste, feel the same as i do.”

“keep talking and i’ll take it as an invitation to remind myself of just exactly how you feel.”

“if the recent rumours about you are true, my prince, i doubt you’ll be capable of getting your cock to rise for the occasion.”

silence takes hold of the little space between you. contemplation evident on his face, he straightens back up to his full height, eyes no longer at level with your own as they cast down a look which lacks all the sharp edges from before. no longer are his eyes daggers that threaten to slice through you but, instead, blankets of warmth and safety which ache to wrap around your tired bones and shield you from the cold which accompanies the feeling of solitude.

the hand which once held you by the top of your dress has traveled up the expanse of your neck, fingers soft and lazy in the way they stroke over the skin. before you even process your own actions, the grip you have on his own clothes loosens, till your hand is merely resting against the solid mass of his chest.

for the first time since the rogue prince had returned to the capital, victorious and wearing a crown, you allow yourself to take in the sight of him, wholly and unserved. you admire the shortened length of his hair, noting how it frames his face in a way that fully brings out its sharp edges. you trace over the new lines in his skin, unintentionally reminiscing on words you'd both exchanged between tangled limbs and the moonlight ( “they are a sign that i'm aging, sweetling.” “they are a sign that you've lived.”). you catch sight of mangled skin along his right side, peeking out from beneath his clothing. your heart clenches at the thought of him in pain, and you distract yourself from thinking of what other marks decorate his war-torn body by returning attention to his lilac eyes.

three years have passed since you had last held each other and, against your own wishes, your heart still remembers to beat harder around him.

“he will not love you.” the words are an exhale from him, like he's resigning you to your own fate.

“i do not need love.” the words you speak become the first lie you've ever told him, making even with the way he'd faked his smile earlier.

“then if not love, freedom. that cunt will not give you that." you aim to tear away from his piercing eyes, yet the force of his hand tilting your chin upwards gets in your way. he may have been at war, you think, but he's inflicting a greater torture upon you than any fallen soldier right now, imploring you to look upon his weakened state in a way he's never allowed before. "he will give you gold, and dresses, and dresses made of gold to occupy yourself with, but never freedom.”

“freedom is a fool’s game.”

“gaomā daor ȳdragon hae aōla.” you do not speak like yourself. this time, he does not prevent you from looking back at your own reflection. you wish to whine about how you do not look like yourself either, dressed in such a ridiculously white gown but don't in fear that he'll take it as invitation to slice through it with his dear dark sister. “what happened to the girl who used to make plans to see the world on dragon's back, to taste every wine, to be tied to no land?”

“she died somewhere between the first time you kissed her and six moons into your war for the stepstones.”

like the mirror were something akin to the mystical, future-telling balls you'd heard of in the stories of witches and seers, the memory of your first kiss plays out before you. you remember it all like it was merely yesterday. the way you'd at last bested him after the five moons of midnight training you'd endured. the way he lay frozen on the ground, eyes widened in a mixture of shock, irritation and pride. the way he'd marched over to you and sent thrilling chills of fear down your spine as you worried he aimed to scold you for daring to nick the right side of his cheek with your blade, drawing out blood. the way he'd ripped your weapon from your hand, thrown it off to some unseen part of the dark training grounds and proceeded to attack you. only, where you had expected raised fists and seething words, he gave bruising kisses and sighs of satisfaction, the victory of at last going against everyone else's supposed better judgement and giving into the carnal desires he'd tried to cast aside in favour of protecting your virtue in the eyes of the cunts that sat with himself and your own father at the small council.

and then, you blink and suddenly it is half a decade later and you're standing in those same dark, cold, training grounds, only this time the prince is nowhere in sight and you're hacking at a man made of straw, picturing the king's brother's face with every swing of the blade.

“most nights i barely knew if you were alive, daemon! any news of you was sparse, and never meant to fall upon my ears. were it not for rhaenyra serving as cupbearer for the council, overhearing the gossips that ensued in their meetings, i'd never have found out you'd gone to war in the first place. waiting for you to send a raven, or send at the very least a sign that you ached for me as much as i did you, it broke me. and, as i put the fractured pieces of myself back together, i found i was no longer the wide eyed fool you'd left me. i was no longer going to cry over a man who didn't respect me enough to let me know of his leaving.”

“how could i write you, my lady? was it not you who asked of me that our affairs be kept a private matter? i'd have thought our scandal was lesson enough for you to learn there are rats in every crevice of kingslanding. a single letter from me would have been your undoing.” the anger returns to his voice, though not so all-consuming this time around. behind your own reflection, you see him shifting around, body growing agitated with the need to do something, anything to expel the dark energy coursing through his veins. “we both know i have not once had an issue with making my affections for you known, it is you who was so scared to be branded as my mistress! so do not dare question my respect for you. everything you've wanted, i've given. anything you've asked of me, i've done. and it was still not enough to mark my claim on your heart.”

“why do you still not see my heart is not some land to be won?” if at any moment you pondered the possibility of the maids outside your chambers being aware of the reason behind daemon's current presence, the raising of your voice and the words you spit out at him must be enough to confirm any of their suspicions. you wonder which of them will be the one to spread the word, until it reaches your father's ears or- worse- your betrothed. “nyke daor mirri sombāzmion hen pryjata syt ao naejot hang bona jaes-forsaken bartōro hāre zaldrīzes banner iemnȳ.” i am not some castle of ruins for you to hang that god-forsaken three-headed dragon banner within.

if words were daggers, yours would have pierced through his darkened heart and twisted the blade. for there is nothing more prideful to a targaryen than their own bloodline- and many a nights you'd spent, sat at candlelight with the infamous conquest of aegon targaryen himself depicted to you in a written word, pondering if this grandiose sense of self is what lead to their customs of taking their own kin to wed-, the hot tempered prince being the greatest example of this, rumoured to have once made a eunuch of a man who dared to so little as roll his eyes as a young viserys targaryen passed by him in a brothel.

you feel him more than you see him move behind you, weight shifting from one leg to another and carrying the rustle of metals and leather with it. he's glaring at you through the reflective glass, mouth pressed shut in a straight line and hands clasped behind his back, as if holding them there is some way of holding off whatever thoughts he had of touching you with hands that had brought so many people to their end- his own wife being their latest victim.

several minutes of silence pass by before you realise he's weighing out his options, trying to choose what to say next. the rogue prince, known for his unmatched wit and possessing the ability to argue his way out of acts of war against his very own brother, is lost for words for a second time.

when the words come to him at last, you wish they'd disappear again.

“i am a proud man. i have fought, and lived, and fucked with fire and blood, so this will be the first and only time i will ask this of you.” you watch with baited breath and sweating palms as daemon's figure lowers itself behind you and, with no second thought to be found, you swirl around in your gown just in time to watch his right knee meet the floor, his other one positioned perfectly at a ninety-degree angle and holding his weight as he leans his arm against the muscular thigh. his head is tilted up, desperation dancing gracefully with the heartache in his eyes as his right hand finds comfort in tangling itself with your own, him relishing in your touch and you fighting so hard to forget each and every other time he'd held your hand so gently.

in an imitation of his return to king visery's graces, he's bowing for you as though it will win him back your favour and the warmth of your bed.

“do not make yourself a lannister, do not wed him. lady rhea royce is dead, there is nothing obstructing our path. we can make it to the dragonpit before anyone even notices you're gone, we'll be wed by sundown, i beg of you. kostilus, marizzo hen ñuha prūmia, mazverdagon nyke aōha valzȳrys.” please, owner of my heart, make me your husband.

it is a plea for so much more than your hand.

it is a plea for your life, a plea for your future, a plea for a world where you reside upon dragon's back and he resides anywhere that is by your side.

it is everything you've ever wanted to hear from him, coming into fruition in the worst way imaginable: dressed in a wedding gown meant for another man.

“skoro syt sir? skoro syt līs ao epagon bisa hen issa sir?” why now? why must you ask this of me now? you pull in a breath and push out a sob, eyes welling with unshed tears as you force yourself to rip away from his lilac irises to find safety in staring up at the cold, unfeeling ceiling. “skoro syt daor skori nyke istan nykeēdrosa dāez naejot vestragon kessa?” why not when i was still free to say yes?

before he can fumble out a response, the door to your chambers reopens.

unlike before, it truly is dorothea this time.

“my lady,” she looks past the prince on his knees as though she can not even see him, too committed to her loyalty for you to rub a greater amount of salt in the gaping wound upon your heart which is daemon targaryen. there is no doubt when believing she'd never utter a word of the scene she has walked in on. “we must make haste. the ceremony will commence shortly, and there can be no wedding without a bride.”

the grip on your hand grows tighter, a silent plea from daemon to get you to look at him again, to see him for all that he may be- a man made of untamed disrespect, a tally of war crimes, blood of the so called dragon seed and, above all else, love for you- and take him as your own.

it makes it an even greater battle when you force your aching body to pull away from him, hands patting down the creases in your dress one last time before making your way over to the door.

this time around, it is you who leaves daemon a mess on your chambers' floor, kneeling there till his knees ache and the wedding bells have long ago rang out.

[littlerosette]

Do you have any aot fic recs? It can be any pairing, genre, setting etc. I'm not too picky

plenty!! though, i have to preface that i haven’t been very good about reading new aot fic lately.

first of all, anything by bacondestiny is terrific. i know that it’s known that charlotte and i are good friends but she genuinely is one of the best, most naturally talented writers i’ve ever met. her style is absolutely sublime. my favorites though are ritual of love, let the awful song be heard, and the way home (one of the first aot fics i read coming back into the fandom).

i also really love anything by @karizard-ao3. she has a fantastic comedic voice in her writing and her eren characterization is among my favorites. my favorites from her are clueless teens and her office enemies au, but seriously. read everything from her.

@sinigangsta-ao3 is also a fantastic, fantastic writer. her style is beautiful and the characterization is perfect. mikasa is written with a little bit more steel in her spine than i normally see, which i loooove. my favorites are all the time i have — it’s yours and the formative years series. i don’t normally love modern aus but i completely fell head over heels for that one.

@strscrossed is also wonderful. i really do feel like she’s a master of variety because all of her aus feel so distinct and separate from one another. her prose is lovely too. so far i think her magnum opus is i killed the sun for you (her warlord au) but i’m enamored with her actor au as well (serendipity).

and i know this isn’t eremika but this jeankasa fic is wonderfullllll. i sobbed reading it.

@dead-dolphins also has an asoiaf au i haven’t been able to really dig my teeth into yet outside of reading a few chapters (i absolutely need to) but her writing is beautiful and id be remiss if i didn’t mention the promised princess. and @onwriting-hrarby has legendary fics such as rotten judgement. the subjects she tackles are so mature and she’s an extremely intelligent writer.

there’s a million other authors i can recommend. this fandom truly has so many good ones in every flavor you could want (fluffy to dead dove) so we’re really lucky. i really only just mentioned the ones i can immediately list off of the top of my head, so if you don’t see an author here you like please rec me their fics!! i also have stuff in my bookmarks!!

[defences-down]

There has been a project (or series of projects really) I’ve been keeping a secret from Tumblr at large for the last few months. I’ve been thinking about it for a while and brought it up with trusted folks and the time has come where I feel good about sharing it with all of you. If rpf isn't for you remember the core tenet of fandom spaces Don't like, Don't read and scroll on please.

So without further ado, I’m pleased to announce four Harry/Louis fics coming out of my anonymous vault and one more that never went in as I’ve just finished it.

Hope y’all enjoy!

I can’t thank the folks who have been so generous with these pieces thus far enough for that kindness.

Feel the freedom

wc: 1907

rating: Mature

What happened in Sydney and after.

Or an imagining of why the setlist in Sydney was the way it was.

Wherever you are (home)

wc: 2,670

rating: Explicit

A good night's sleep or two, thirty birthday presents, and cake (both kinds)

or what they got up to in Australia

Harry’s birthday fic

Pumpkin, You’re Gonna Kill Me

wc: 28,263 at the present

rating: Explicit

After Louis nearly gets run over by a Lime Scooter he couldn't expect what would come next. Never one for a romcom, he finds his life turning into one.

A prompt from the GC (and dedicated to the GC) that spiraled into a soon-to-be 11-chapter (because I got hit with the epilogue bug) famous/non-famous rom-com-inspired universe.

Where we are (and where we’re going)

wc: 1,136

rating: Not rated

Harry is sick in the middle of his LA residency.

Louis flies across the country to look after her and one afternoon tells his beloved a story.

Inspired by the couple on the back of Louis’ merch

And the newest edition to the collection

Every Star

wc: 2,023

rating: Mature

Things haven’t been picture-perfect all the time but Louis refuses to leave his brother in a time of need. He’s always going to help as much as he can. Do anything he can to help dreams feel more attainable.

Or a story inspired by Angels Fly and Teardrops.

For @thechavier

[glaucuspacificus]

there’s this current avatar azula AU (utterpok by ao3 user maizula) that i’m reading rn and it feels very different to what you just described when it comes to the treatment of aang and the air nomads when writers make another character the avatar.

usually what i’ve tended to notice for azula avatar AUs is that aang is usually killed off before the fic begins or is treated as a side character who doesn’t have much relevance aside from teaching azula air bending. his character arc isn’t really there and usually his love interest is given to azula in these fics.

the fic i was on about seems to take a whole new approach to avatar aus that i’ve never seen before within this fandom by keeping aang alive and also allowing him to have the narrative relevance his character rightfully demands to take up. sokka, katara and aang actually seem to take up more reading time than azula herself so far which is again, really interesting because it’s an avatar azula fic. she should be doing that right? nope, not there at least.

oh and i have to praise the amazing world building this author has created for this fic because it’s not something i’ve ever seen in an this character is the avatar au. it has the base aesthetics of atla but the author has overhauled the entire world to properly represent the asian and inuit cultures atla seems to take inspiration off. if you’re into world building and lore in general, this is a fresh recommendation from this little anon dude.

Sorry, anon for taking so long to reply but it took me ages to find the time to read Utterpok - I think it might have been in my marked for later even before your message! I have to say that I am enjoying it very much.

Its extremely clear that the author cares so much about every character which is a breath of fresh air. Something I'm trying to work on is writing from different perspectives and taking the time to properly round out every character I write and this fic is a masterclass in that.

It's fantastic that there is so much added worldbuilding. I know that ATLA is a kids show but as an adult now, the worldbuilding and added complexity in the world gives a more mature feel which is very appealing.

I have never seen another character as the Avatar AU that has done Aang justice before so this is a great recommendation, anon. Thank you!

[nobodysdaydreams]

20 Questions for Writers

@myfairkatiecat Thanks for the tag, sorry this took so long. (@sophieswundergarten thanks for the reminder 💕)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

8 so far. It's not a lot, but I make up for it in length.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

417,645 💀

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Exclusively tmbs so far, but I plan on doing some Wolf359 fics when I (finally) finish the podcast. Sadly all my ideas are long. I'm sorry.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Since I have so few fics I'll just give the list:

S.O.S., by a lot. I'd like to thank the show's cancellation for my unexpected success.

The Oldest Siblings , mainly due to it's association with SOS (it's the prequel in the series)

Treat Them With(out) Mercy

Who You Were Meant To Be

A Joy To Obey and It Should Have Been Us are tied

The Boys Who Waited

Sirens of the Sea and Sky: dead last with 3 modest kudos. This fic is the equivalent of having a kid in a school recital who screams the whole time and knocks down the set. He might be a disaster, but he's my kid and I'm proud. This fic is ridiculous, but it makes me laugh anyway. I don't know how burnt out finals Bods came up with this, but by golly...she did.

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

Of course! I think I've responded to every comment I've ever gotten (if not I'm so sorry please let me know). I appreciate every one of them, and I love talking about the ideas in my idea and the fics I write, so please know that every comment you leave totally brightens my day! 🥰

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

Hm. Right now "The Boys Who Waited" probably has the angstiest and most ominous ending, but we'll see what happens.

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

Probably "A Joy To Obey" since it's my main fluff fic with a nice ending. A great read if you like lighter stuff.

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Not yet. If I did, I'm not even sure what I'd do. Depends on the hate. I might cry. I might laugh, honestly. I don't think I'm nearly important, good, or noticeable enough for that so I might be a little flattered ngl (unless it was something vulgar or hateful towards a certain group of people then I'd delete and block the person). I'm sure people have read my writing and not liked it, but I think they just click away.

9. Do you write smut?

No, that's not for me. Especially because I'm writing for a children's fandom, I just don't think that's appropriate.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No, but I've done some AU's on tumblr.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Also this is a small fandom so if a fic of mine DID get stolen, it would be pretty awkward and obvious. Don't plagiarize kids.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'd be honored if anyone wanted to do that!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

No, but that could be fun!

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

Why the MV Shortcut, of course! /jk

I don't really have a lot of ships I get super invested in, I prefer platonic relationships. If I think of one I'll let you guys know.

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

You'll find out. (Don't worry about SOS. I promised I'd finish it and I intend to keep my word).

16. What are your writing strengths?

According to my readers, dialogue, characterization, themes, weaving multiple storylines together, and plot twists.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I can't write a short fic to save my life, and I can't edit to save my life. I also just publish my first drafts because I have no impulse control (sorry).

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

Funny enough I’ve done this, but only canon MBS dialogue where I've translated it directly from the show's subtitles. If I made an error, please let me know.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Mbs, and so far just mbs. Hoping to expand someday when I magically have more time (and finish Wolf359).

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

SOS, just because of what a fun journey it's been.

Tags: @phtalogreenpoison @oflightningandstars @mvshortcut @sqenthusiast @itsgoghtime @amphibious-entity @mysteriouseggsbenedict and anyone who hasn't been tagged yet but wants to do it (sorry if I accidently double tagged)

[hayjeon]

🥹

hi everyone, i know it’s been quite a while.

i don’t even remember how to use the app/site well enough to find when the last time i posted a fic was (like, where did the time stamps go?!)

i bet this won’t come as much of a surprise to anyone who’s been following me for a while because i clearly went MIA for a few years. just wanted to pop back in and clarify a few things and let yall know i am alive and well 🫶🏻

WHERE TF R U

i have, unfortunately, moved on from my ff writing era of my life. i’ve seen all your messages of support and reactions to my writing and constantly see the reposts and recs made in my email inbox, and i cherish each and every one of them and do miss yall very often. i am currently now working and traveling full time, and am just past the era in which i used to absolutely love bts/kpop. i’m actually now an avid ao3 dramione reader 😂 and have devoted a lot of my time to getting physically/emotionally healthier, furthering my career, and just pouring love into myself and everyone around me 🤌🏻

DO YOU EVEN LIKE BTS ANYMORE

i still do love/listen to bts, but i’ve also been feeling like i’ve outgrown them a bit and no longer actively read bts fics myself 🥹 but to sometimes come back to my own blog and my homepage to see that other writers are still here and dedicated makes me feel so giddy and happy for them. watching bts grow from their boy in luv era when i first became a fan to the degree they’re at now and even when i stopped actively writing (probably when they started breaking into the US/english lyrics, or covid era) was such a big life landmark for me, and i will always cherish them in my heart for that. i will also always cherish this blog, that kept me actively writing, throughout uni, and actively creating content anonymously, for helping me through some hard times emotionally, physically, and mentally.

WHATS GONNA HAPPEN WITH UR FICS

i don’t think i’ll be updating any of my wips: any writer out there who feels inclined to continue the stories, i give you full permission (pls don’t plagiarize!) and would hope that you drop a quick msg in my inbox when you post so i can read them (better than tags!) 🥰 would also be happy to share where i intended a lot of my fics to go plot-wise. i also deem it would be a disservice to a lot of you for me to release unfinished drafts, but im happy to share that as well to anyone who wants to pick it up, or just are curious where the plots went (lmk if ur into that?)

WHAT ABOUT THIS BLOG

i will be keeping this blog up and active. anyone who wants to pop in and re-read anything: thank you for your continued support. feel free to translate, repost, use as inspiration, continue the stories yourselves, and do whatever you want. i’m sending these fics as a love letter to everyone who’s supported me thus far, and anyone new to the fandom (welcome! i know army has increased so much since i left) into the universe and all i can do is release them with a sense of peace and love, although it’s a bit bittersweet.

CAN WE STILL ASK QUESTIONS

of course 😍 i love seeing them in my inbox so continue to ask away!!!

to conclude:

thank you to everyone here.

thank you to bts and hope for a quick and safe army service to all of them.

and happy new year 🫶🏻

[ninjagrace]

what’s ur favorite scenario to dream about with mtsk and death (kou dying, specifically)

YOU. YOU GET ME.

i’m gonna start this off with saying that kou minamoto is literally my favorite character ever so don’t think i’m doing this because i hate him i just think about him way too much and this is where i end up after thinking for too long

i have SO MUCH to say about this but i’m gonna throw it under the cut bc i don’t wanna catch ppl off guard with my insane bullshit

if ur reading this and u get upset it’s ur own fault /hj

alright SO

first off kou definitely should’ve died during the pp arc just for shits and giggles. it would’ve been like a “what the fuck just happened” for every character and the whole fandom and the chaos that would’ve ensued from the death of a major character would’ve been absolutely WILD- like bitch just killed himself. he straight up committed suicide. there’s no way of rephrasing that bc that’s what he did. it would’ve been a plot-shattering moment and really just heartbreaking and awful and aidairo could’ve done so much with it.

for one, mitsuba would’ve been very Not Ok because he would’ve blamed himself for kou dying and he’d definitely try to gaslight himself into believing kou was still alive- that would not work btw he’d just be in insane denial

anyway imma move on from that arc even though i could go into it so much deeper and focus on things that i could see happening just to make the story hella interesting (i’ve been very tempted to write a fic about this so beware)

i think the most likely ways kou would die would either be suicide or being killed by tsukasa. we’ve already seen him attempt to kill himself, thwarted by mitsuba then brushed aside for some reason, and i’m about to do a full ass analysis on why tsukasa should murder our boy :3

reiterating that I LOVE KOU MINAMOTO WITH MY WHOLE HEART HES PERFECT

okay so tsukasa. hes a silly guy. one of his main traits is he loves to fuck with people, right? right yeah whatever get to the point IM WORKING ON IT ok sorry anyway he’s silly right. he thrives off fucking people up as much as possible. since he knows fucking everything i’m gonna assume he knows how important kou is to mitsuba and, given the fact that it’s so easy to fuck with mitsuba, he’d know that messing with kou in some way would make the biggest impact. every way he messes up mitsuba’s (after)life doesn’t emotionally impact him for too long, given the fact that he and kou with it out every time. but what happens when we take out the support system? that’s what we wanna know.

so ofc tsukasa feels all silly goofy and takes out kou just for funzies. mitsuba is absolutely fucking destroyed in every way. he blames himself, duh. this splits off into 2 possible scenarios that i’ve created lol.

possibility one: mitsuba stays in his boundary for god knows how long, refusing to talk to anyone. eventually he goes to shijima, begging for a replacement kou. even if hes fake, it’s better than nothing, right? shijima understood his grief, in a way. so, she gave in. boom. kou copy. the rest was none of her business.

kou copy only knows what shijima knows about him, so let’s go with everything up until the end of the picture perfect arc. he has no idea about anything after, including the aquarium date, the far shore incident, and the supernaturals being banished from the near shore in the first place, and it’s fine that way. …right? well, that means he also doesn’t know that he’s supposed to be dead.

he keeps asking mitsuba when he can leave the boundary and go home, when he can go see senpai, when he can see his brother, and he’s very upset. mitsuba has no idea what to do. he was overjoyed to have his crush best friend back that he didn’t even think of what would happen after… he couldn’t let kou out of the boundary. that was out of the question. keeping kou here would make him miserable and make him hate mitsuba. so at this point they’re stuck in a cycle of shouting matches of wether or not kou is allowed to leave, periods of silence, and occasional truces because they both need someone to keep them sane, and who else can do it but each other?

possibly 2: supernaturals are a thing in this world, so why can’t kou be one too? even though tsukasa is the one who killed kou in the first place, mitsuba begs him to bring kou back, to make kou a supernatural just like mitsuba. mitsuba knows what being a supernatural feels like. he knows that just letting kou go would be so much better for the dumb blonde boy. he knows that kou deserves better than to be forced to live in a world that doesn’t want him anymore. but mitsuba is selfish. so tsukasa makes kou into a supernatural. for funzies, you know? he’d never worked with a human corpse before, so why not try out making one into a supernatural?

the process of making a supernatural is… messy. mitsuba now knows this, as he couldn’t look away from his boyfriend being made into one. it was horrific. i’m not gonna delve into it because i really don’t wanna think about that i’m so sorry my poor baby

just like with mitsuba, tsukasa didn’t have kou’s actual soul to work with, just supernatural parts and kou’s body. it was simply an animated puppet that looked like kou minamoto. “it’s fine,” mitsuba said, “it’s okay, he’s back, that what matters, right?” “it’ll be fine, right minamoto?” and as he looks to kou for support, all he gets in response is a blank look. he realizes, after staring in horror at the jagged scar on kou’s neck, that his vocal chords are absolutely fucked up beyond repair. he’d never hear kou’s voice again.

thanks for reading and i’m so sorry <3

[princeanxious]

Hi! I was wondering about your Lost Guardian au from ages ago, do you think you’ll ever plan on updating it and if not, could someone else take up the fic?

So heres the thing. If someone wants to write a fic *inspired* by The Lost Guardian, i’m not gonna stop them, and i’d probably feel super honored so long as the inspiration was correctly credited!

As for ‘taking up the fic,’ the short answer is no.

I have active drafts and the rest of the story already planned out to its finish, notes, even a branch-off fic set post-story that will likely go up on my nsfw blog if i ever get around to editing it. The Lost Guardian hasn’t been abandoned, it’s simply on hiatus. (And yes, i recognize 3 almost 4 years so far is a really fucking long hiatus. The Chapter 9 draft doc was made in december of 2020, and last edited in July 2022)

I started writing that fic whilst still in highschool, a time where I was 17 and didnt have to worry yet about getting my license or maintaining a part time job, i had an over abundance of freetime even partially to my detriment, the fandom was booming and I had plenty of feedback, and this fic was (and still *is*) a story im proud of.

But i’m 22 now, working a full time job to pay rent and account for a number of minor ‘disabilities’(best word i have for them atm) that I cant ignore or push to the side nor treat poorly, from the lasting effects on my body of stunted growth to celiac/glutent intolerance to adhere to that directly determines how easily my body functions for the week, to dealing with glasses i cannot afford to break and taking care of teeth i cannot afford to fix, taking care of my mental health and using the free time i have to do what brings me the most joy at that time.

The sanders sides fandom has heavily quieted down with the season finale hiatus and I’d like to think I did pretty well for going six long years dedicated solely to that without cracking under the silence, because *I knew* when I caved to something else it’d be a long while before I had the drive to come back with any sort of resolution to my active works. Thats just how my hyper fixations work. I cannot focus on multiple at once, it’s too much to process simultaneously and takes away my enjoyment bc I tend to watch/consume things repeatedly to catch every little detail i missed. And it doesn’t help when one loses steam because their content barely breaks 100 notes(80% of which are likes, 15% are reblogs with the occasional comment, and 5% are self-reblogs) when back in the height of it all, a few thousand notes was pretty average interaction. This blog still has about 11.5k followers, almost all of which came from the height of the fandom period. So for now i’ve moved onto the FNAF DCA fandom, bc it is fresh and new to me.

I know you didn’t mean to poke the bear here, I get it, but like.. C’mon. Any other fic of mine likely wouldn’t have gotten the same reaction in full but, still. I’ve had to answer this question a handful of times over the years at the point, which might be why this response feels so charged, and i’m sorry.

I don’t mean to come off as snippy or rude, but it *is* kind of invasive to offer to finish one’s creative work when it’s taking too long and theres very little payback for it. I’ve got adhd, delayed satisfaction isn’t a thing I experience. Just guilt that it wasn’t finished in a way for me to post it in time before I broke and lost all motivation to share it.

In my head, TLG has been long finished and held the ending for years, theres just been no energy to put in the effort of finish writing it for others to read. I’m still trying to get my life together to change that, don’t get me wrong, but the American economy is literally in shambles so who knows how or even if i’ll manage that. Call me selfish for being content with only mentally having my creative story’s ending and a collection of rambles and notes to show for it, but at the end of the day, it’s still my story, and i dont feel comfortable with people trying to ‘take up the mantle’ to finish it, when they don’t know how it ends.

I’m glad you like it enough to want to, though, I really *really* am. I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to finish it for you all. And i just don’t know when that will be, I just know that I *want* to do so, however long it takes.

[firstkanaphans]

Can I ask you a personal question? How do you deal with ungrateful or demanding comments on your stories? Like people demanding you write more or something like that? Or have you ever received a negative comment? How does one deal with that?

I must admit that overall, this fandom has been quite good to me. I do still get a few hate comments every now and then, but they’re few and far between compared to other fandoms I've been in.

By far the meanest comments I get on BL fics are about top/bottom dynamics (i.e. “I can’t believe I’ve read this whole stupid fic only for Akk to bottom. You should have tagged that shit from the beginning 🤬🤬🤬”). These comments do not faze me. At all. In fact, I take almost a perverse pleasure in them. If someone is so homophobic that a character’s preferred sexual position affects how they feel about the story, then they do not get an opinion and they should not be allowed to consume queer media. Period.

Outright hate comments (i.e. “You are so overrated. I don’t know why anyone would read this crap”) come from jealous trolls 100% of the time. Don’t listen to anything they say. Usually these are writers who think their own works deserve more attention and they’re trying to eliminate the competition by convincing you to stop writing. Although it might not feel like it, this actually is a compliment. I usually clap back at these people because I find it fun, but you’d probably do better to just block and delete.

Like you mentioned in your original ask, ungrateful comments are common and they’re also frustrating. Usually these are readers who demand the next chapter right now. Although there’s no way to know for sure, I tend to assume that these comments come from people who might not speak English as their first language because the comments themselves are not rude…they’re just a bit irritating. I think these commenters probably just don’t understand how their words come across.

Although "update pls" comments certainly aren’t my favorite, essentially what they’re saying is that they're enjoying your story so much they literally can’t wait for more. And that’s a good thing! It is annoying, though. Especially when that’s all they say. So a rule of thumb for any commenters: It’s perfectly fine for you to voice your excitement for the next chapter, but maybe include a nice note about the current chapter as well? “Loved this chapter! Can’t wait for the next one!” is fine. “I NEED ANOTHER CHAPTER RIGHT NOW” is not.

Ironically, the comments that bother me the most are usually well-intentioned. I am far more sensitive to critique than I am to hate. Comments like “This character annoys me” or “I don’t understand why this character would do this” or “Can they please just get together already?!” come from people wanting to engage with a fic on a deeper level, but when I read them, they make me feel like I did something wrong. That character isn’t supposed to be annoying, so what am I doing that’s making it come across that way? Am I not explaining the character’s motivations clearly enough? Is something off with my pacing?

I think I’ve come to the conclusion that my reaction to comments like this is just me being too sensitive and that if the reader is coming back chapter after chapter with commentary (even if it is a bit lackluster), they must have found something worthwhile about the story.

In general, I think what helps me process rude comments is simply that I’m very confident in my own writing. I know I write well and nothing anyone says is ever going to change my mind about that. I’m stubborn that way. And although I know confidence is not easy to come by, I would recommend at least writing things that you enjoy so that if someone comes to you with a complaint, you can say, “Well, I liked that part and I’m writing this for me, not for you, so I don’t really care what you think.”

And if mean comments are something you receive a lot of or if the possibility of mean comments stresses you out every time you post, consider turning off anonymous commenting on AO3. That should at least get rid of the trolls.

All of that said, it would be remiss of me not to remind y'all of my favorite comment of all time.

Moral of the story: Sometimes people are just dumb.

[isalisewrites]

Let's go with one of your original ideas. What's Loving You (is a losing game) or The Wizard & the Hero?

Okay, let me tell you about Loving You (is a losing game)

It's inspired from If Paths Diverged, which is an amazingly well written Harrymort with very dark themes. For me, it was one of those stories where I felt it was missing something FOR ME. It scratched so many perfect itches, but I felt like I wanted a little more. These are the best kinds of stories because they spark inspiration.

It's why I started Terrible, But Great. I'd read so many Tomarry fics, but I always felt like there was one or two elements that was missing for my ultimate enjoyment. I think this is a sacred process in fandom as a whole. You love all the stories, but they don't always hit every single checkmark. That's the perfection condition for a spark of inspiration.

Thus, after finishing If Paths Diverged, I started having some ideas. Basically, my idea was an adult Harry who rescues Voldemort from a hellish capture by the Ministry, but his magic is locked away by a curse. The story would end with Harry breaking the curse and giving Voldemort back his magic - without locking him in an unbreakable vow to stop killing people because Harry loved him.

Voldemort is shocked by this selfless action. Harry would've been executed by the Ministry for such traitorous actions. Instead of fighting the Ministry, Voldemort chooses to save him and take him away. The story would've ended with them on the run, visiting foreign lands, with Harry working as a freelance curse breaker as they live together. I ended up writing down 1500 words of these ideas.

However, as I was writing down my ideas, some of them were beginning to blend with some original concepts. While it began as a Harrymort story, it began to evolve in my mind into an original story. Mostly because the version of Harry was more OOC than I normally like to write him.

He was a very closed off person. Still very self sacrificing, but he didn't have the same explosive and sassy personality of his canon self.

“Why did you save me?" demanded Voldemort. "What of your job, your life—your family—” “I have none, remember?” said Harry lightly. Voldemort recoiled as if physically struck. Harry lifted an eyebrow. “Did that hurt?” he asked, somehow detached. “It’s just a fact.” “You are… strangely unemotional.” Harry shrugged. “I’ve spent a lot of time alone.” “Why?” “It’s simpler. Quieter.”

This is just an example of lines that show that this Harry was vastly different. It became difficult to call him Harry the more I heard his voice in my mind and I began thinking of how to evolve different aspects to the idea. The original idea is still in its infancy, especially when you try to evolve such a rich, complex backstory between Harry Potter and Voldemort.

So far, I've been thinking of who the MC is and how he'd defeat his 'Dark Lord' in an original story. He'd turn him over to the government when he was a young age and forget about him. Years later, as he works a job as a cursebreaker, he ends up crossing paths with the 'Dark Lord' only to see the horrific, inhumane conditions that the government has inflicted on him.

And the MC isn't the type to let that go. Not sure where to go from there, but I have one my favorite lines from this idea.

“Still think love is a weakness?” The glare he received was unescapable. “It is a vile, pitiful disease of the feebleminded, one of which I am sorely afflicted.”

If you're going to evolve a fanfic idea into an original idea, I will always say that this is the best place in the creative process to do so. It's much more difficult to evolve complex AUs into an original idea once you've written most of the fanfiction story. But it's definitely fun to do!