#It's nanowrimo and I come back to life

[melon-wing]

Not-So-Secret Soulmates [Scar/Grian]

[[FANFICTION MASTERLIST]]

Grian stood at the small grave, looking at the name with a pained expression. His heart ached for the friend he had just lost, even when he knew it wouldn’t be forever. He hadn’t meant to kill Bigb. He had managed to convince himself they were secret soulmates so much that he had forgotten Bigb had still been connected to Ren after all. He probably wouldn’t have built that trap otherwise. Or maybe he would have done it, but he would have apologised to Bigb before they had perished. This way he had actually celebrated his secret soulmate’s death, indirectly, but still. He had cheered. 

Grian almost felt as if arms were embracing him and he wondered if that was really the case. He remembered being a ghost last time. He had still been able to stay in that world and while he had just watched, maybe soft touches were possible. Him and Scar had been able to hear the shouts of the dead in their first game after all. Sometimes the wall between the dead and the living got thinner as emotions ran high. 

“I’m so sorry, B. I didn’t mean to kill you. I wished things could have been different. I really… I really wanted to be with you”, he whispered into the cold night air.

“You wanted him to be your soulmate instead of me, didn’t you?”

Grian jumped, whipping around so quickly he almost fell, the feeling of the soft embrace immediately disappearing as a cold shiver ran down his back. How hadn’t he heard Scar walk up to him? It was so unlike him to not pay attention and Scar usually wasn’t one to hide his presence well enough. It took him a moment to overcome the shock to realise Scar was still waiting for an answer, his eyes looking deep into his and it was as if he was pulled into these brown pools filled with uncertainty and sadness.

“Yes. I wanted him to be my soulmate. He was the one I was disappointed about most when we discovered he wasn’t my soulmate.”

Scar let out a small laugh, but there was no joy in it, it sounded so hollow.

“I mean… I knew that. Why am I even surprised? I just never thought you’d admit it just like that. But yeah, it’s true. Nobody would have been happy having me as a partner. I’m irresponsible, I mess up stuff and I don’t think before jumping into action. I’m the worst at this and anyone would have been better. I’m a walking, talking catastrophe.”

Grian could see something breaking inside Scar as his voice reached a higher pitch as he spoke, cracking every now and again, his words making him spiral downwards even more. 

“Scar-”

“No. Don’t you dare deny it now. You know it’s true! I pretended I didn’t hear you scream when you found out. I pretended it was something else that made you this upset, but I knew. I knew we were soulmates before you did. I knew the moment I stepped foot into this weird world. Because how could it ever be anybody else other than you?”, Scar ranted on, a shaking hand pushing his hair from his forehead as he looked at Grian, his eyes a mixture of sadness and madness. He was losing it quickly and Grian was too overwhelmed to know what to say to him. “Scar, please…”

Scar just shook his head, eyes moving from Grian to the grave behind him. “I thought this time we could win together. Me and you until the end. This time we wouldn’t have to fight to death. I didn’t want to see you cry again like last time. It was so hard to keep pretending then and not just hug you. I promised myself to protect you.”

“Wait… pretend?”

The glint of madness seemed to disappear and Scar smiled softly, but still so sad as he recalled the memories of their first game. “Grian. I’m not that bad at fistfighting. I’m a clutz, but even I don’t stumble that often and fall face first into a cactus. I didn’t want to hurt you. I let you win. Had I known you’d cry over my dying body like that I would have just accidentally fallen into a ravine before we ever reached that damn ring of death.”

Grian only stared at him, thinking back to their encounter in the desert, not trying to linger too long on the memory of the screams and blood. Now that Scar had said it, it seemed so obvious. Not even Scar was that much of an idiot when something was important to him. Apparently winning had never been important to him.

“I- Thank you, I think?”

Scar just shook his head and Grian was pretty sure getting gratitude wasn’t the reason he had brought it up.

“It’s in the past now. We were a great team back then. Not so much anymore. What happened to us, G? I thought you enjoyed being with me, even if I can be an irresponsible buffoon sometimes. We hang out all the time on Hermitcraft. We have lots of fun together, don’t we? Why do you hate being my soulmate so much that you want to team up with someone else?”

Grian pressed his lips together, glancing everywhere but at Scar’s face. He hadn’t known his attitude would hurt Scar this much and he knew he owed his partner an explanation, but he had a hard time admitting it out loud, when he had only ever told Bigb about the way he felt.

“I didn’t want to be the one to kill you again”, Grian finally whispered, looking up from uncertain eyes at Scar who seemed slightly shocked at his confession. “If you weren’t my soulmate I could have tried to do the same thing I did last time: Stay as far away from you as possible and make sure we’re not on the same or on opposing teams. I know this is a game and I know we all respawn… But I didn’t know back then. The first time. I thought I had killed you. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t fight you again. A piece of me broke that day, Scar, and I have been unable to repair it.”

“What?” Scar just gasped out, looking at him as if he was processing those words for a moment and then a bit of the sadness disappeared and he seemed less lonely and broken as a hopeful glimmer appeared. “So you teaming up with Bigb…?”

“He was helping me, Scar. We spent so much time together because he’s one of my best friends and he knows me. And I tried to replace you with him and I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would hurt you this much. It’s not that I don’t like you… I like you too much.”

Scar seemed to stop, all thoughts coming to an abrupt halt as his wide eyes looked straight into Grian’s. And then suddenly his cheeks started to turn pink as his shocked expression morphed into a small shy smile. It was an expression that made Grian’s heart race faster again. It was funny how the smallest of changes on Scar’s face could make him react like this.

Scar finally stepped up, taking a hold of Grian’s hand. “You don’t have to do this. Keeping your distance. I promise I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. We don’t have to fight and even if we die”, Scar took the hand to his lips, kissing it softly, looking up from the hand at Grian, “We’ll be right back together. I will be there when you wake up on Hermitcraft. We’ll be together. This is not real, Grian. We aren’t dying.”

“I know…”, Grian whispered, looking at Scar, those bright green eyes looking at him from beneath long eyelashes. “I just. I’m scared. What if I make enemies and you die because of me? What if I stumble and fall? What if some mob gets to me?”

Scar just shrugged, smiling fully now as he lowered Grian’s hand once more. “Grian. Do I look like someone who thinks he could win this? I cost you two lives already. So if you stumble, I’ll just have to catch you and put you back on your feet again. And if we die, I’ll be happy knowing we did our best together as a team. And once this is over we can be together without worrying. Back home.”

Grian smiled back at Scar. He just couldn’t help it. Seeing that smile was always too infectious. There was still a deep worry inside him, but yet he felt calm as well. Yeah, he might die and hurt Scar. But Scar wouldn’t mind. Scar would still be there waiting for him once he woke up again. Scar lifted his free hand up, letting it rest softly on Grian’s cheek and Grian leaned into the warmth of that touch, closing his eyes for a moment, allowing his constantly racing mind to slow down for the first time since this game had started. When he opened his eyes, all he could see and think of was Scar. Scar with his soft locks and bright smile. And with those deep eyes that looked at him with so much affection. It was truly a miracle he hadn’t suspected before that his feelings weren't one sided. “Promise me, Scar… Promise you’ll stay by my side. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me this time.”

Scar smiled and nodded.

“You’re not alone. Not in this world and not in the next.”

And as they both leaned forward their lips touched to seal the promise and Grian could feel a spark running through his whole body and he just knew that even if they didn’t win, he had gotten everything he ever wanted in this miserable world. He had found something precious that would stay far longer than the time they’d spend here. He had finally found love.

[nanowrimo]

5 Tips to Avoid Burnout as a Neurodivergent Writer

When taking on a project as big as writing a novel, you may run into the risk of burnout. NaNo Participant Joana Hill gives some tips on avoiding burnout as a neurodivergent writer.

Burnout.  As writers, we all know it. For neurodivergent writers, burnout can be even more damaging than usual. We can be much more sensitive, both mentally and emotionally, than our neurotypical friends and family.

This means avoiding burnout, and taking care of it when it does happen, can be even more important for us.  I’m here today to provide some tips for my fellow neurodivergent writers to tackle just that.

1. Write What Interests You

Write what interests you rather than what you think you ‘should’ be writing.  Many of us get caught-up in pleasing others.  For neurodivergent people who’ve spent much of their life masking, or hiding their true personality and needs because of fear of rejection, it can be a hard habit to break.

If you want to write a 50k slow burn coffee shop AU of your favorite fandom, an epic space opera starring ants, or a main character with ADHD, autism, dyslexia, or any other disorder or condition you have, go for it.

2. Get A Support Network

For neurodivergent people, we’ve often lived our lives with special interests no one wants to hear us talk about.  It often results in us not talking about them at all before someone can tell us they don’t want to hear about it.

Whether it’s offline with friends and family, or online here at NaNoWriMo or other sites, having people who are actively interested in listening to you and helping you plot and write can be a game-changer.

3. Celebrate As Many Victories As You Want

Many years, my personal goal is that I can get the new Pokemon game, which always comes out around the middle of November now, once I hit 50k.  But you don’t need just one grand goal.

Get a bag of your favorite candy and say you can have a piece every so many words.  Find something on Amazon you want (and can afford to get!) and say you’ll get it once you hit the halfway point.  Whatever motivates you to keep going, set it into motion.

4. Plan For Flexibility

That may sound like an oxymoron, but hear me out.  Neurodivergent people often love to have a plan.  I know I can get frustrated and upset when I’m expecting something to happen and something different does.  For a big goal like writing a novel in a month, a lot of things can end up going wrong.

Carry a notebook and pen or tablet with a keyboard case in case an errand takes longer than expected.  Back your writing up to several places in case your main writing device crashes.  Make sure at least one of those is a cloud service in case you end up writing on a device that isn’t yours.  The more contingency plans you have, the better prepared you are when life happens.

5. Be Kind To Yourself

Some days you may not get the minimum goal, or you might not write at all.  You may feel like you just can’t do it because you’re behind on your word count, or you decide you don’t like what you’ve written.

I get it.  But don’t beat yourself up about it.  Take a break.  Play your favorite game or read your favorite book.  Go for a walk.  And remember that you’re awesome.  No one can write this story like you can.

Joana Hill is a writer of young adult stories, as well as novellas inspired by Japanese light novels and anime. You can find her books, social media, and anything else you could imagine wanting to know about her on her LinkTree. Photo by Andrea Piacquadio

[suzukiblu]

Day nineteen of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

. . . huh, Tim thinks as he watches Kon rub his thumb over the goat's soft and fluffy fur, suddenly reminded of the cashmere. Okay, maybe his hypothesis about Kon's possible appreciation for nice textures is actually a thing, then. Noted and taken into evidence. 

“It's . . . cute,” Kon says, ducking his head a little and still slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth across the goat's fur as he looks down at it again, his face still all red. Tim makes a mental note about maximizing the amount of nice textures in Kon's life. He is gonna buy him sheets with a very high thread count, just to start. “Um–thanks, man.” 

“You're welcome,” Tim says as he has the incredibly weird thought that Kon has probably never actually owned an actual toy before. Like, maybe video games and things like that? He’s pretty sure he's heard Kon mention a few video games he likes before, now that he's thinking about it, but in retrospect he doesn't know if he even owns a console of his own or just played them with someone else at some point or . . . who knows, really? 

Like, Tim didn't decide to buy him a toy because of that, obviously, he really was just thinking of the idea as a cute little hopefully-the-right-kind-of-flirty reminder of how they “met”, but . . . 

It's a weird thought, is all.

. . . also, additional mental note, he should make sure to buy Kon a console if he doesn't already have one. And maybe a handheld system too, and obviously whatever games he wants for both. Maybe a couple spare controllers in case he wants to have anyone over, Tim has no idea, but better safe than sorry. 

“Let’s pay,” he says, redistributing the shopping bags between both hands again and then nodding towards the register. “Do you like video games?” 

“Sure,” Kon says, glancing sidelong at him again as they head for the counter. He’s doing that a lot, it feels like, though Tim isn’t sure why yet. Just intel to absorb, for right now. “Who doesn’t like video games?” 

“Do you have any?” Tim asks, and Kon looks–embarrassed, almost? Weirdly? 

“I can’t exactly have you over to play, man. No offense, it’s like a security clearance thing with the lab,” he says, which is not where Tim was going with that at all and is sort of . . . flustering, actually. Like, to hear, he means. He’s trying to buy things for Kon, not invite himself over to, like . . . pester him for attention or whatever. 

“Yeah, you'd be kind of hard to explain to my dad,” he agrees, putting on a wry expression. Kon's mouth tightens for a second, for some reason, and then he smiles awkwardly in his direction, not quite meeting his eyes. Tim represses a frown, wondering what that’s about. 

“Usually am, yeah,” Kon says. 

“Well, once we get you a place of your own, that’ll solve that problem,” Tim says reasonably as they wait in line together, though obviously he doesn’t really expect Kon to have him over or–

“You’d actually wanna come over if I had my own place?” Kon asks hesitantly. “Like–to hang out or whatever?” 

. . . Tim wonders who exactly ground all of Kon’s usually-boundless confidence into the dirt, because he’d just like to have a word with them. Or shove a doomsday weapon up their ass; whichever’s more convenient at the time. Considering how Kon usually acts, Tim doesn’t even want to think about how shitty someone had to be to get a reaction like that out of him. 

“I would,” he says. “We could order in and play something, maybe.” 

“I don’t actually have a console or anything. Shit, I don’t even have a TV,” Kon admits. “Which is not a request, for the record, just a statement.” 

“Okay,” Tim says, which as a response is something he’s just gonna let Kon interpret however he likes. He could just have a TV and console delivered to Cadmus for him, probably. Although he doesn’t actually know how big Kon’s room is, so in retrospect maybe that’ll be something to buy once they get to the stage where Kon’s picking out furniture for his new apartment/house/cul-de-sac. Easier to size and scale correctly that way, Tim figures. 

God, how big is Kon’s room? Is it just a room? Like a dorm or something? Is it at least actual normal bedroom-sized? 

. . . he really, really hopes it’s not a barracks situation. 

“I mean it,” Kon says as Tim pays for the goat and they leave the store. “Like, this was really cool of you, but you’ve definitely done enough. I didn’t do anything that special, you know?” 

“I feel like I’m the one who gets to value your effort in saving my life,” Tim says. “Like, monetarily and all. As a whole fiscal thing.” 

“It really wasn’t a big deal, though,” Kon insists. “Like, I didn’t risk my neck or anything. It wasn't even hard.” 

“You put in the time to learn how to do that with your TTK to begin with, even from halfway across the gallery floor,” Tim says. “Just because it was easy to do then doesn’t mean it was easy to learn to begin with. I think it’s really impressive that you even figured out you could do that to begin with.” 

“I mean–well, yeah, I guess,” Kon says, ducking his head as his face flushes again. “I just . . . like, it took a while to figure out how to do it right, definitely. So I wouldn’t say impressive.” 

“If you’re trying to be modest, maybe don’t lead with ‘I worked really hard on improving myself and it worked really well’,” Tim says, flashing him a wry little smile. Kon turns even redder, then grins sheepishly at him. 

“Look, TTK is badass, but it’s way less impressive than punching a giant asteroid into gravel,” he says. “Or superspeeding through all the bad guys in a microsecond.” 

“Why?” Tim asks, tilting his head. “Lots of people can punch an asteroid in half. You could break it down into its component parts and also make sure none of said parts escaped into the atmosphere or crashed any satellites. And you don’t need superspeed when you can keep the bad guys from even moving to begin with, right?” 

“Huh?” Kon says, looking–startled, a little. Tim’s been doing his research, but also just thinking–plus he's pretty sure that talking up TTK as a power is just about the best possible way to get Kon to be into Tim Drake for as long as possible, so . . . 

“I’m just saying, you seem really versatile. Like, you’re obviously not just a bruiser,” he says reasonably, though the more time he's spent trying to think about TTK lately, the more aware he's become that Kon tries very hard to be one whenever possible. Like–much more often than he actually should, in fact. “Your powers are really flexible, from what I’ve noticed. You can be a scalpel and a hammer. Possibly simultaneously, depending on your multitasking skills, I don’t really know how that works.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, the startled expression turning flustered even as he grins a little helplessly and ducks his head, twisting the handles of the shopping bag the clerk put the goat in around his fingers. “Uh, I mean, it depends, but . . . kinda, I guess.” 

Okay, well–he looks a little less boisterous and smug than Tim would've expected him to get over direct compliments to his TTK, honestly, but he does still seem flattered. Tim had just been prepared for annoying bragging and overblown pride as a reaction, not that helpless little grin Kon's currently trying to hide. So that's . . . weird, yeah. Huh. 

“Well, I think it's impressive,” he informs him with an easy shrug, and watches maybe a little bit too curiously as Kon's grin widens and he ducks his head lower. He looks so–not proud or arrogant, still, but pleased. 

It's definitely weird. 

Tim can't pretend there isn't an equally weird part of him that thinks it's cute, though. It's a little strange being the one hyping up the exact same superpower Kon's usually incapable of shutting up about while he tries to downplay it, but he guesses it's not that different from being the one carrying most of the bags right now. Just a little bit of a temporary role reversal while Kon's wearing a soft cashmere sweater instead of his usual heavy leather jacket and Tim's not wearing a mask. 

Well–at least not a domino, anyway. It gets a little more complicated going with the metaphorical definition, obviously. 

“I'm still buying you lunch whatever you say,” he says. “And a bigger wardrobe. You can't always show up in your superhero gear, somebody's gonna notice you eventually.” 

“Geez, man, how many times are you planning to see me in civvies?” Kon says, and if his accompanying laugh didn't sound a little forced, Tim would assume Kon was saying he was going to be bored of him before that was a concern. That laugh makes it sound more like Kon thinks it’s likelier that Tim is going to get bored of him, though. 

No, Tim is pretty sure that's wishful thinking on his part. It's too tempting to attribute evidence like that to mean something he'd like it to mean, is all. 

“I don't know,” he says, giving Kon a smile. “How many times are you planning to let me?” 

Kon stares at him for a moment, turns red, and then laughs self-consciously and looks away. 

His flirting standards are still extremely low, yeah. Thank god, because Tim absolutely sucks at this.

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

Summary: When a new Star Wars TV show called The Mandalorian premiered, you found yourself completely enamoured with the titular character. Enjoyment of watching the lone bounty hunter travel through the galaxy quickly turned to obsession. There was just something about the show that captured your imagination. Now, you spend much of your free time — when you're not working a fast-paced, minimum wage and incredibly stressful job at a prestigious London Museum— speaking to your online friends about your love for the show. There's just one thing... Despite how much you love The Mandalorian, no one knows the identity of the man behind the helmet... either in the show, or in real life. You only know him as Mando. No one has ever seen his face, no one knows his name.  Even after the countless hours of speculation from fans online, which even you have occasionally participated in, no one is any the wiser to the identity of the mysterious man who wears the shiny armour.  Surely, given the depth of your love for the show, you'd recognise if the man who you spend so much time obsessing over online was to ever cross paths with you. Right?

Content Warnings: Reader is AFAB, uses she/her pronouns and in her mid 20s. Age gap between her and Din is noted but not really central to the story. Grogu is human, hints of past trauma/child abuse before Din adopted him are mentioned but not described in detail. Some mature scenes later on in the fic but not explicit smut... because I just cannot write x reader smut! Author's Note: SO very excited to finally share this fic! Thank you to the lovely @suresnips for being my beta. I really appreciate you ♡ This baby was originally my NaNoWriMo 2023 project and was inspired by this post from @toxic-seduction that I saw one evening and couldn't stop thinking about! POVs will alternate chapter to chapter from Din to reader. It was fun to write that way! Set in London for a few reasons: partly because I love the movie Notting Hill and it has some of those vibes (if you squint), also, the village where Din lives is based on Elstree Studios just outside London, where the OT was filmed and ultimately because NO WAY was I writing a modern!AU set in the states, it would've been painfully obvious a Brit wrote it. While there are lots of references to places in London, I don't live there so it might not be truly accurate (Londoners don't come for me). Also, to be political for a sec, reader works at the British Museum and I hate that institution. This was actually the line of work I was interested in when I was at Uni but for many different reasons I did not pursue it. However, it works for the plot of this story and as you'll see, she doesn't exactly love it either and goes on a few rants. Just wanted to make that clear that her job there is not an endorsement of it or anything. I can't stand them or their historical apologist bs and I wish we would give back all the things we stole (including the Parthenon Marbles)! Finally, it was incredibly important to me that the actor behind Mando in this fic clearly be the fictional character of Din Djarin rather than the real person Pedro Pascal, because rpf is not my jam! I hope I did that pretty well but just wanted to warn that if you're expecting me to use Din as some kind of way to write a Pedro fic, this won't be for you! Okay, I'll shut up now! This fic is fully written, just needs editing so hopefully I'll get a couple of chapters up each week, but life happens. I'm very proud of this one and I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also if you would like to be added to my taglist for this fic, please let me know! Happy reading ♡

❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Why Does It Always Rain On Me? [Reader POV]: After a dreadful day which saw you drenched by a rainstorm after leaving a hectic day at work, you reflect on your love for Mando and upcoming excitement for the sci-fi convention you will soon be attending with your internet best friend.

He Is My Only Priority [Din's Pov]: The character of The Mandalorian is known and loved by millions. But there is another, much softer side to the man who portrays him that Din Djarin is determined to keep hidden from the world, despite the challenges that presents for him and his beloved son, Grogu.

This Is Why (I Don't Leave The House) [Reader's POV]: Your internet bestie arrives in preparation for the Star Wars convention you will attend together. Everything is set for the greatest weekend of your life! Until you arrive at the con and find yourself overwhelmed by all the crowds and noise. At least you have numerous incredibly realistic Mando cosplays to distract you from how stressed you feel, and there's one in particular which is uncannily accurate...

Curiosity Killed The Cat [Din's POV]: Despite his reservations and against his better instincts, Din heads to a Star Wars convention that he was invited to. Although he fears that his cover will be blown, curiosity gets the best of Din and he can't resist attending a panel. But Din doesn't exactly find the answers he was looking for. Instead, he finds something far more precious. Something that he would never have expected...

He's So Tall (And Handsome As Hell) [Reader's POV]: Being back in the real world and returning to work after an incredible weekend at the convention where you had so many fun experiences is taking its toll on you. The thought of collapsing on your couch in front of The Mandalorian is the only thing keeping you going. However, the universe has other plans for you. News of an out-of-hours tour for a private client that you are asked to lead almost sends you over the edge, but when you finally meet the man, he is the opposite of what you were expecting. Weirdly, he seems familiar...

With A Little Help From My Friends [Din's POV]: Din returns to the set of The Mandalorian to begin filming a new season. Despite his experience and capability, he finds that he struggles to focus as his thoughts remain firmly fixed on a certain someone...

You're The Sunflower [Reader's POV]: Despite feeling certain that you'll never see the ridiculously handsome man you gave a tour of the museum to, a special delivery is about to change everything...

Your Face Hung Up High In The Gallery [Din's POV]: After a difficult few days of filming The Mandalorian, Din is excited to spend time with you as he finally takes you on your first proper date...

Have I Known You Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years? - (Reader's POV):  Despite a messy evening which led to you waking up in an opulent hotel which you have no memory of falling asleep in, memories of kind brown eyes and breathless kisses soon come flooding back to soothe your soul. Your relationship deepens as the two of you spending time together whenever your busy schedules allow. But one night, a turn of events causes you - despite Din's reassurances - to wonder if everything you have been working so hard to build together has just come crashing down around you...

There's A War Inside Of Me - [Din's POV]: The realities of the secret he is keeping from you begin to weigh heavily on Din's mind and he seeks advice from a certain curly haired co-star on what his next move should be. Things don't go exactly according to plan, not least because of the typically awful English weather...

It Could Be Love, We Could Be The Way Forward - [Reader's POV]: With your respective busy jobs keeping you and Din apart, a mystery date after a hectic day at work is exactly what you needed.

The Calm - [Din's POV]: When filming overruns and conspires to keep Din from the fun weekend he planned for you, he agonises over his decision. Fortunately, he manages to salvage the weekend, even after a calamity involving a rowboat...

The Storm - [Reader's POV]: The happiness you feel in response to a question Din posed to you is somewhat clouded by lingering doubts. Yet your affection for each other helps you to push those emotions down, until a weekend spent at his cottage changes everything...

P.S. - I tried to be inclusive for all body types and skin tones in this fic, but if I missed something, I do apologise. If you do spot something that takes you out of the fic, I am more than happy for constructive criticism as I wouldn't want anyone to be excluded on those grounds. I am always trying to do better and would love to know where I went wrong so I can improve and be more aware of these things going forward, so I would appreciate it if you could let me know if you do spot anything. Thank you so much! ♡

[walks-the-ages]

Nanowrimo made a half-assed, desperate ""apology"" post

Full text, for when they inevitably try to edit it; as of right now it's August 6th, 2024, around 5:30pm est.

A Note to Our Community About our Comments on AI – September 2024 To the NaNoWriMo Community: In early August, debates about AI on our social media channels became vitriolic. It was clear that the intimidation and harassment we witnessed were causing harm within our community of writers. The FAQs we crafted last week were written to curtail those behaviors. We wanted to send a clear signal that NaNoWriMo spaces would not be used to bully or delegitimize other writers. This was consistent with our May 2024 statement, which named a lack of civility in NaNoWriMo spaces as a longstanding concern. Taking a position of neutrality was not an abandonment of writers’ legitimate concerns about AI. It was an acknowledgment that NaNoWriMo can’t maintain a civil, inclusive community if we allow selective intolerance. We absolutely believe that AI must be discussed and that its ethical use must be advocated-for. What we don’t believe is that NaNoWriMo belongs at the forefront of that conversation. That debate should continue to thrive within the greater writing community as technologies continue to evolve. We apologize that our original message was unclear and seemingly random. Our note on ableism and classism was rooted in the desire to point out that, for people in certain circumstances, some forms of AI can be life-changing. We certainly don’t believe those with concerns about AI to be classist or ableist. Not being more careful about our wording was a bad decision on our part. Our Mission is about providing encouragement to writers and cheering them on as they progress toward their goals. That remains our primary focus. In the future, we will be more transparent about the issues that we are trying to address with any messaging we provide. Finally, we recognize that some members of our community have other questions and concerns that go beyond general context for our comments. We don’t think we can address all of these in a single communication. Additional context here is that we are a very small team (including our Interim Executive Director, who is a volunteer). We want to take the time to read through your letters with the care, attention, and concern they deserve. Please expect more in the coming weeks.  In partnership, The NaNoWriMo Team

I sincerely hope their other sponsors bail ship and leave them to flounder at this point lmao. There is no going back from "if you criticize generative AI you're just ableist classist and racist".

They've also once again edited their "What Is Nanowrimo's Stance on AI?" post:

New text, in full; looks like it was updated sometime late yesterday or early today (August 6th 2024):

What is NaNoWriMo's position on Artificial Intelligence (AI)? 13 hours ago -Updated Not yet followed by anyone

NaNoWriMo neither explicitly supports nor condemns any approach to writing, including the use of tools that  leverage AI. We recognize that harm has been done to the writing and creative communities at the hands of bad actors in the generative AI space, and that the ethical questions and risks posed by some aspects of this technology are real. The fact that AI is a large, complex technology category (which encompasses both non-generative and generative AI, applied in a range of ways to a range of uses) contributes to our belief that AI is simply too big and too varied to categorically support or condemn. NaNoWriMo's mission is to "provide the structure, community, and encouragement to help people use their voices, achieve creative goals, and build new worlds—on and off the page." We fulfill our mission by supporting the humans doing the writing. Please see this related post that speaks to our overall position on nondiscrimination with respect to approaches to creativity, writer's resources, and personal choice.  We made mistakes in our initial expression of this position. We speak to those mistakes in this letter to our community, and we've simplified the language on this page to reflect our core position. 

If you're wondering why Nano's posting all these non-apologies, its because they started this debacle with seven huge sponsors.

Over the course of the last three days, they've gone down to four.

They have literally lost about half their sponsors because of their support of generative ai.

And, as you can see in the "apologies" above, they're still defending their AI stance, by now claiming that their stance is because they were defending poor, hapless AI users from a horde of harassment and bullying from all sides, and they're not a platform that condones bullying! totally! (sarcasm).

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm realizing the amount of research I have to do for this year's NaNoWriMo novel (which is a lot), so do you have any tips on doing efficient research for stories?

NaNoWriMo: Efficient Story Research

1 - Go General First

Let's say you're writing a story about a fictional astronaut in the 1960s. It can be tempting to just research everything about being an astronaut, being an astronaut in the 1960s, the 1960s in general, life in Houston, the history of Johnson Space Center, what Kennedy Space Center was like in the 60s, and so on... But there's going to be a lot of data there that never actually makes it into your story. So, a good place to start would be to read a short general overview of those things just so they're in your head. Then...

2 - Get Specific for the Needs of Your Story

Next, look at your plot outline or scene list and make notes about specific details you'll need to know about. For example, if you have a scene that takes place in Johnson Space Center, you may need to research the specific building where that scene takes place and get an idea of what it might have been like in the 1960s. Or, let's say you have a scene where your character is doing some sort of simulation to train ahead of the mission... you would need to research astronaut training in the 1960s to find out what kind of simulation they might be doing for training, or if you already know, you can research that specific simulation. But, you don't need to learn everything there is to know about astronaut training in the 1960s unless all of those things make an appearance in your story somehow.

3 - Placeholders Are Your Friends

Most important of all, just remember your first draft isn't your final draft... you don't need to have every single fact fleshed out before you start writing. If you're writing and you get to something that needs to be researched, put in a placeholder so you can research it later. You can literally type [placeholder] or you can just wing it, and correct whatever you come up with later on with something more factual. Either way, placeholders help ensure you don't spend a lot of time researching things you don't actually need to know about.

4 - Watch Out for Rabbit Holes

You're writing this story because the subject matter interests you, but interesting subject matter can lead us to fall down rabbit holes when we're researching. When that happens, it can be easy to justify it as research, but if you find yourself falling down one while researching, ask yourself, "Will any of this make an appearance in my story? Does it help me understand the subject matter more as a writer?" If not, back out of the rabbit hole immediately.

5 - Break It Up/Get Organized

It can really help to break your research down according to your story. Like, all the things you need to research for Act I, Act II, Act III... or maybe by character or setting. By breaking the research up into like parts in this way, it forces you to sift through it all more thoughtfully and makes you really think about what you actually need to know and spend time researching.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[slxsherwriter]

The Little Wheel Squeals

Fandom: Joy Ride

Pairing: Rusty Nail x reader

Word Count: 1,768

Warnings: None

Author's note: Part one of the Nanowrimo fics that I am attempting. The next part in my Rusty Nail series. Hope everyone enjoys. As always, not Beta read.

A heavy sigh escaped you as the last remnants of glass were swept up and into the dust bin, to be tossed away and forgotten. A reminder that while you were mostly alone out here, you weren't completely alone. Being on your own didn't bother you, after all you knew that Rusty needed to be on the road for extended periods of time. It was just what the job was. Nothing that he could be faulted for or have held against him. You had known that at the very start, plenty of life experience telling you that it was something that you could handle. But it was moments like these, when idiots decided to break in, thinking that no one was home or that the house was abandoned, that being on your own felt a little unnerving and had you longing for the moment that Rusty was walking back through that door.

You had been home this time when the window had smashed, the sound reaching you upstairs, where the knock had not. Immediately, you had been concerned and reached for the bat that had been insisted upon for protection in his absence. They hadn't been a very difficult group to deal with, actually for the most part not looking to cause any trouble. Simply looking for help, which you were happy to give. Even if the one guy in the group caused you to feel uneasy. A feat that took a lot given your typical generous, forgiving nature. Something had just seemed off about him, causing you to keep the bat close while you allowed them to use the phone to call out for someone to pick them up. Their car had broken down at some point miles up the road and they had been wandering since.

The story was believable. It happened more often than not around here since your home was situated in nearly the middle of nowhere. Rusty had told after he had first shown you the house that he had picked the spot because of the land and the privacy. It was an oasis, a place to go away from people and away from the mess of being on the road. A concept that was easy to digest and something that could be understood on a deep level. After all, when your father had come home, he had said the same thing. Apparently though, more stragglers than anticipated tended through the area.

Still, you had taken to the home, not quite moving in but spending far more time at his place than your own, which was technically the next state over. You occasionally would head home on weekends, especially ones that he worked. The old house was not something that you could bring yourself to get rid of and debated asking Rusty to move out with you. It wasn't quite as isolated but it was a piece of paradise all on it's own. The thought of the conversation once again swirled before being tossed to the side for later examination.

Seeing them picked up and head off had a relief washing over you, enough so to make you sag back against the porch for just a second. There was work that needed to be done. Namely, cleaning up the rest of the broken glass and finish patching up what you could of the window until there was a new one delivered. Windows were always a pain in the ass.

As the glass hit the bottom of the can, you were greeted with the sound of a deep rumbling engine. Rusty was home. All the worry from before, the agitation, and concern over the man that had made you feel uneasy melted away. He was finally home.

Moving to the front door to greet him, you watched as his shoulders dropped from where they had been tensed, how his fingers unfurled, hands hanging loosely at his sides for a moment, and a small, genuine smile come to his face. Whether he realized you were there or not yet remained unknown, but you took in the moment to appreciate the fact that he was finally relaxing.

"Welcome home," you finally offered as you moved over without any prompting and wrapped your arms around him. Road grim be damned, you needed a shower anyway.

"Hey, sweetheart." The words came out in that comforting rumble that had you closing your eyes before you could help it. The heavy, familiar weight of his arm dropping to your shoulders was an added bonus as he hugged you back. "Missed you."

"Missed you too. Trip was too long this time." As much as you wanted to agree, there was also a fear of him interpreting it as a concern about his occupation.

"It was a long one this time. But you're home now and that is what matters." You sighed softly as you took a deep breath in. "Why don't you go shower up and I'll get something thrown together for you to eat." You would ask him about the plans for the evening after that, letting him get in the door and truly relaxed after it all. Which meant cleaned up with a proper shower and a good meal that wasn't from a truck stop diner.

"Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. Jacket on the hook and boots off, he headed towards the bathroom, entirely missing the broken window that you still had to finish at least patching up so nothing could get through it and into the house during the night. Both animals and insects. Food for Rusty first.

You were finishing with the little makeshift board when he came wandering back into the room, smelling of his eucalyptus shower gel and something else. Without the hat on, his eyes were clear and obviously focused right on you.

"What happened?" That hard edge that he was careful to keep from you came out. Always the protective one. "And when?"

"This evening. Small group came around, thinking that no one was home. They needed to call for help. Let them use the phone after everything was explained and they headed off maybe about an hour before you got home?" You watched as something changed, the tension in his jaw obvious from the clench. All before it vanished. "It wasn't anything too bad. They are gone and it's over." there seemed to be gears turning as his eyes jumped from you to look around the room. Or a simple method of calming himself down.

"You sure?"

"Watched them drive off myself. Made the one that offered to stay behind for the tow truck go right along with them and had the bat at my side the entire time."

"That's a good girl." The praise sent a little warmth through you but now was not the time.

"Come on, eat your food before it gets cold. Then, can we just watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?" You just wanted to be close, feeling him against you, smell him. Be encompassed by his presence in every sense possible. Rusty was safety and had been that since he had first picked you up on the side of the road. And you were admittedly still feeling a little off. Not a fact that you wanted to disclose to the man. The anger disappeared after a long second before he was walking over to you and his warm lips met your forehead.

"Course, darling. If that's what you want, that's what we will do."

"Only after you eat." Wanting to make sure he was taken care of, you had to insist that he ate before anything else. He glanced at the plate before chuckling softly.

"How about this? We curl up on the couch, and I eat while having you laying against me?" That impossibly large hand that you loved, pressed against your hip though he didn't move to bring you any closer together.

"I think I can settle on that compromise." Leaning up, your lips brushed over his cheek this time, a gentle affection that you were happy to shower the man in since he did it in return.

"Good. Go turn on the TV and find something to watch. I'll be right there." He used the touch that he had on you to send you off towards the living room. All would be right in the world with a night of snuggling close to your man. You made sure to stop at the closet and grab that worn blanket that was just perfect for the cooler nights. Though Rusty was practically a human furnace. Still, it was fun to have you both under it and cuddled together. It gave that nice cozy feeling that could put you right to sleep, no matter what was happening around you or had happened.

Settling on the couch, it only took Rusty an additional two minutes to join you, a plate of chicken and potatoes piled practically sky high. Oh yeah, he was fine and hadn't needed dinner at all. You could have laughed at the portions, but then again, he was a big man. You pulled the blanket back, knowing that he would need to eat before he could get under it, least anything ended up on it.

There was a relieved groan as he settled back into the worn couch, kicking his legs out in front of him.

"Anything else happen while I was away?" You shook your head.

"No, it was pretty quiet. I honestly thought I was going to get away with no one showing up before you got home from this trip." Reaching out, your hand lightly rubbed the back of his neck while he began to eat.

"Shouldn't have been anyone at all." You laughed softly.

"Kinda hard to be in a spot where no one else exists. We are pretty close for the most part." He grunted around a mouthful of potato but didn't say anything else about it. Neither did you, choosing to let him eat the remainder of the meal in silence.

The plate had barely hit the table beside the couch when he had his arm around you. The familiar weight and warmth immediately had you melting against him, shifting and resting your head against his shoulder. Smiling to yourself, you felt truly at ease for the first time all day.

"Comfortable?"

"Never been better." A low rumbling laugh left him and you felt a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

"Can't say I can complain about a homecoming like this."

[electrospherevaults]

'ello everyone, today's a special day!

Back one year ago, and merely two weeks after I was done with the mandatory army conscription, I kept thinking about Defiler. This thinking led to some ideas on how to expand the world, especially coming off the heels of whatever the fuck being in the greek army was, and with friends explaining how much they loved the world and especially the faction of the Maidens of Wrethella, a warrior army in service of the King, I soon had a concept I wanted to explore.

Thusly, on August 26, 2023, at exactly four minutes past midnight, Maiden, the sequel novel to Defiler, was born.

HAPPY MAIDENVERSARY

Fair Lady Analussa of the Maidens of Wrethella, protagonist of MAIDEN Artwork courtesy @meer-draws

It's been a wild time since then, exactly one year ago now! Lots of things changed, lots of things improved; I know my characters better than ever before and the world they inhibit. Analussa grew from a simple character meant to inform the reader about Lionelli and her goals into her own fully realized character; her squad grew to include six more wonderful and superb lady maidens that are as badass as they are sweet. And at a current 97.5k words and 258 pages, I am inching closer to achieving the goal of finishing the sequel! It is still quite a long way to go - there are 41 planned chapters for it after all, and it would not be a Defiler sequel had it not posses some ambition of its own in what it is trying to do - but writing the story of Analussa and her squad as they survive the war-torn world of Tessereich has been a cathartic and healing experience for me; one that I hope I will get to share with you all soon enough)

Alongside the sequel, I have been continuously building the world of Defiler; its past, its present, its future, and how the cast of characters fit in the whole thing. Several of the short stories I have been writing earlier this year take place in the Tomorrow Galaxy where Defiler and Maiden takes place. Each one has been instrumental in figuring the world out, how it ticks, how it works, what it has to say. Most of all, this whole endeavour has helped me figure out Mallik the most, the protagonist of the first novel. She is especially dear to me - I wouldn't have so many artworks of her commissioned had she not been so instrumental in my growth as a writer and as a person - and it would be a severe understatement to say that her perseverance aided me to keep my chin up and continue unabated by difficulties and plights life threw my way. One day, I hope I can tell her story properly.

So what is next for the denizens of Tomorrow? Well, for now, my goal is to finish Maiden. Next goal is the to fix the draft of Defiler; that one will remain private unfortunately as I seek to get it published. I hope it will be fun to come back here and contrast the finished product with the first public draft made during its NaNoWriMo challenge phase. I also want to see if I can depict Defiler and the rest of the stories taking place in the Tomorrow galaxy in other mediums, such as animation and videogames - but that's a plan for later in the year, depending on how things pan out.

In any case, I want to thank y'all for reading, and I especially want to thank my friends, (like Babka, Beth, Gree, September, Sapphire, Chloe, Balkon, Aenore, Steph and Mirnos), for being instrumental in guiding me and believing in me throughout the way; from finishing Defiler, to reading it and critiquing it, and now traversing alongside me this wild new wider galaxy!

Thank you all kindly, and I promise you more news about Maiden in the coming months :D

In the meantime, you can read the first draft of the first novel, available for free, on here. (Analussa does appear in it, and her role, whilst small, is still quite important!)

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Staying Motivated During Camp NaNoWriMo: A Writer's Guide to Success (As I Continue to Fail)

As a writer, you've likely heard of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), the annual November challenge where participants aim to write a 50,000-word novel in just 30 days. But did you know that there's a more flexible version of this writing marathon called Camp NaNoWriMo? Held in April and July each year, Camp NaNoWriMo allows writers to set their own word count goals and work on any writing project they choose.

(Here's proof of me failing miserably to my writing goal 😭)

While Camp NaNoWriMo offers more freedom than its November counterpart, it can still be challenging to stay motivated throughout the month-long writing journey. As someone who's participated in multiple Camp NaNoWriMo sessions, I understand the ups and downs that come with this intensive writing experience. In this post, I'll share some tried-and-true strategies to help you stay motivated and reach your writing goals during Camp NaNoWriMo.

Set Realistic and Personalized Goals

One of the beauties of Camp NaNoWriMo is that you get to set your own goals. While this flexibility is fantastic, it's crucial to set realistic targets that challenge you without setting you up for failure. Consider your schedule, writing speed, and project type when determining your word count goal.

For instance, if you're working on a poetry collection, aiming for 50,000 words might not make sense. Instead, you could set a goal of writing 30 poems or spending 30 hours on your project. Remember, the goal is to make progress, not to burn yourself out.

Pro Tip: Break your monthly goal into daily or weekly targets. This makes the overall goal feel less daunting and gives you regular milestones to celebrate.

Create a Writing Schedule

Once you've set your goal, it's time to create a writing schedule that works for you. Consistency is key when it comes to making progress on your project. Try to allocate specific times each day for writing, even if it's just 30 minutes.

Consider your natural rhythms and responsibilities when crafting your schedule. Are you a morning person who can squeeze in an hour of writing before work? Or do you find your creativity peaks late at night after the kids are in bed? Whatever your situation, find pockets of time that you can dedicate to your writing.

Remember, it's okay if you can't write every single day. Life happens, and flexibility is important. The key is to have a general structure that you can fall back on.

Prepare Your Writing Space

Your environment can have a significant impact on your motivation and productivity. Before Camp NaNoWriMo begins, take some time to set up a comfortable and inspiring writing space. This could be a dedicated home office, a cozy corner of your living room, or even a favorite spot at your local coffee shop.

Ensure your writing area is clutter-free and equipped with everything you might need: your computer or notebook, reference materials, snacks, and a beverage of choice. Some writers find that having inspiring objects around them, like favorite books or meaningful trinkets, helps fuel their creativity.

Join a Writing Community

One of the most powerful aspects of Camp NaNoWriMo is the sense of community it fosters. Take advantage of this by joining a "cabin" - a small group of writers who can offer support, encouragement, and accountability throughout the month.

You can either join a random cabin or create one with friends. Engage with your cabin mates regularly, share your progress, and celebrate each other's successes. The camaraderie and shared experience can be incredibly motivating when the writing gets tough.

Beyond your cabin, participate in the wider Camp NaNoWriMo community through forums, social media, and local events (virtual or in-person). Surrounding yourself with other writers who are facing similar challenges can provide a much-needed boost of motivation.

Use Writing Prompts and Exercises

There will inevitably be days when the words just don't seem to flow. Instead of getting discouraged, have a arsenal of writing prompts and exercises ready to kickstart your creativity.

These can be simple character development exercises, dialogue prompts, or even free-writing sessions. The goal is to get your creative juices flowing and overcome any mental blocks you might be experiencing.

Pro Tip: Create a document or notebook filled with prompts and exercises before Camp NaNoWriMo begins. This way, you'll always have something to fall back on during tough writing days.

Reward Yourself for Milestones

Positive reinforcement can be a powerful motivator. Set up a system of rewards for reaching various milestones throughout the month. These can be small daily rewards, like a favorite snack after reaching your word count, or larger weekly rewards, such as a movie night or a long bath.

Don't forget to celebrate the big achievements too. Plan something special for when you reach your final Camp NaNoWriMo goal, whether it's buying a new book, treating yourself to a nice dinner, or simply taking a day off to relax and recharge.

Embrace the "Sprint" Mentality

Writing sprints - short, focused bursts of writing - can be incredibly effective during Camp NaNoWriMo. Not only do they help you make progress quickly, but they can also inject a sense of fun and urgency into your writing sessions.

Try setting a timer for 15-30 minutes and challenging yourself to write as much as possible during that time. Don't worry about editing or perfection; the goal is simply to get words on the page. You might be surprised at how much you can accomplish in these short, intense writing sessions.

Many writers find that alternating between sprints and short breaks helps maintain focus and prevents burnout. Experiment with different sprint lengths and break times to find what works best for you.

Keep a Progress Journal

Tracking your progress can be a great source of motivation. Consider keeping a journal where you record your daily word count, time spent writing, and any notable achievements or breakthroughs.

This journal can serve multiple purposes. First, it provides a visual representation of your progress, which can be encouraging on tough days. Second, it allows you to reflect on your writing process and identify patterns or areas for improvement. Lastly, it serves as a record of your Camp NaNoWriMo journey that you can look back on with pride.

Practice Self-Care

While Camp NaNoWriMo is an exciting challenge, it's important not to sacrifice your physical and mental well-being in pursuit of your writing goals. Remember to take care of yourself throughout the month.

This includes getting enough sleep, eating well, staying hydrated, and taking regular breaks to stretch and move your body. Don't forget to make time for other activities you enjoy, whether it's reading, spending time with loved ones, or pursuing other hobbies.

Taking care of yourself will not only help prevent burnout but will also keep your mind fresh and creative, ultimately benefiting your writing.

Embrace Imperfection

One of the biggest obstacles to motivation during Camp NaNoWriMo can be the pressure to write something "good." Remember, the goal of this challenge is to make progress on your project, not to produce a perfect, publication-ready manuscript.

Give yourself permission to write imperfectly. First drafts are meant to be messy, and that's okay. Focus on getting your ideas down on paper (or screen) and worry about refining them later. Some writers find it helpful to turn off their inner editor completely during the first draft, while others prefer to do light editing as they go. Find what works for you, but don't let the pursuit of perfection hinder your progress.

Have a Plan for When Motivation Dips

Even with all these strategies in place, there may be times when your motivation wanes. It's normal and happens to every writer at some point. The key is to have a plan for these moments.

This could involve reaching out to your cabin mates for encouragement, revisiting your favorite writing craft book for inspiration, or simply taking a short break to recharge. Sometimes, switching up your routine or writing environment can provide a fresh perspective and renewed motivation.

Remember why you started this journey in the first place. Reconnect with your passion for your story or project. Visualize how you'll feel when you reach your goal at the end of the month.

Reflect and Celebrate

As Camp NaNoWriMo draws to a close, take time to reflect on your journey. Regardless of whether you met your initial goal, you've likely made significant progress on your project and learned valuable lessons about your writing process.

Celebrate your achievements, no matter how small they may seem. Every word written is a step closer to completing your project. Be proud of the effort you've put in and the progress you've made.

Happy Writing! - Rin T.

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Hospital (Pietro Maximoff First Kiss Drabble)

Word Count: 1238

Notes: I'm in the middle of NaNoWriMo but I wanted a break from novel stuff. warning for medical stuff/injury

---

Pietro’s chest was rising and falling. That, coupled with the steady beeping of the heart monitor, told you that he was alive. That had been questionable for a little while. You hadn’t been there when he’d been shot, but from what Clint had told you, it had been bad.

He’d been bleeding out when they managed to get him back to the helicarrier, where they patched him as quickly as they could. It had been enough to keep him alive while the rest of you were trying to stop the world from ending. You hadn’t even known anything was wrong until the battle was over.

It was ridiculous how much the news that he might die had affected you. You’d known him for less than a week, and half of that time had been fighting against you. But there was something about him.

He had seemed so vibrant. So alive. Indestructible. The thought that his life could be snuffed out so quickly frightened you.

That must’ve been it.

When a superhero dies, it reminds all the rest of the superheroes that they are, in fact, mortal too. That was why you were so shaken when you saw the medics working over him, trying to desperately stop the blood that was draining from his body.

It wasn’t anything to do with the embarrassing double-take your heart had done the first time he’d smiled at you. It had nothing to do with the way he flirted and showboated. Or the way he stroked a lock of hair behind your ear while you had been preparing for the trip to Sokovia, like it was nothing.

Sure, he was beautiful. But you weren’t upset that he might die because he was beautiful. You weren’t so shallow or superficial. He was just too young and too powerful to die. That was it.

All of this to say that when you found out that he was recovering, your heart had skipped a beat. Your feet had carried you towards the medbay without your consent.

You just wanted to see that he was okay. He had been your teammate, however briefly. There was nothing more to it.

You were surprised to find that his sister wasn’t in his room when you got there. From what you’d heard, she’d barely left his side since the battle. She must’ve gone to get some sleep, or eat, or shower, or something.

A small, selfish part of you hoped that she wouldn’t come back too soon. But that was because you wanted to avoid awkward small talk. It had nothing to do with you wanting Pietro all to yourself. That would be ridiculous.

And now Pietro was alone. If he woke up, he’d be disoriented. He might feel abandoned. You didn’t want that. So you decided that you would stay until Wanda got back. You sat down in the chair beside the bed.

You were surprised by how little medical equipment he was hooked up to. The last time you’d seen him, he’d had an oxygen mask over his face, and all manner of things sticking out of him.

Now, his face was bare, and the cannula in his hand was the only visible evidence that he was hospitalised right now. That, and the heart monitor, which was still beeping steadily.

Asleep, he looked much younger than you realised. Aside from the short, neatly trimmed beard he was sporting, he could’ve almost been a child.

Before you realised what you were doing, you reached out and touched his hand, which was lying limply on the bed beside him. He stirred, and you pulled back like you’d been burnt.

He coughed, and opened his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, unseeing, and then his eyes fell on you. You were loath to admit it, but when his face broke into a smile, your heart stuttered.

“Prinţesă,” he said, his voice weak. “You’re here.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. He’d given you the nickname, which meant princess, when you first met, due to the tiara that was a part of your superhero costume. It wasn’t something you’d chosen yourself, and Pietro drawing attention to it embarrassed you.

He didn’t look like he was mocking you right now. He was smiling, but it wasn’t the cocky, arrogant one he’d worn on the night the Avengers attacked the Hydra compound. No, this was a much gentler smile.

“I came to check on you. To see if you were alright.” The words came out stilted. Why were you here?

“Well, I thank you for that. It’s always a good day when the first thing I see when I wake up is a beautiful woman.”

Your stomach lurched. You stood up so quickly that you almost knocked over your chair.

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better,” you said, trying to keep the hurt out of your tone. For a moment, you thought you might have been feeling a genuine connection, but he was a flirt. You were just another girl to him. “I should go.”

You headed for the door, but he called out, “Prinţesă, wait.” And when that didn’t work, he said your name. You stopped in your tracks. You turned to look at him. His smile was gone. “Please don’t go?”

Awkwardly, you walked back to your seat and sat down. You didn’t know what to say, but he was looking at you so earnestly that you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “If I misread the situation. I thought you…” He trailed off. “I just like spending time with you.”

“From what I hear, you like spending time with lots of women.”

He grimaced. “You’re more than just a pretty face, prinţesă. You’re smart. Funny. Beautiful, but you already know that I think you’re beautiful.” With every word, you could feel your face grow hotter until it was unbearable.

You met his eyes. “Are you serious? Or are you just playing games with me, Pietro?”

“I never play games when it comes to the heart. If I was casual about this, you would know. I don’t want to be casual.”

Like a magnetic pull, you found yourself shifting closer to him. He sat up a little, making space for you in his space. The beeping of the heart monitor, which had been so steady when you’d walked in, was starting to increase in speed. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit pleased with yourself.

When your faces were inches apart, you said, “I don’t want to be casual either.”

His lips were dry against yours. His good hand came up to caress your cheek, and you felt tingles go down your spine. You tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled back, just a fraction.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” he said.

“I don’t care.” You leant back into his space and kissed him hard. You cupped his face with both hands and his hand fell to your waist.

Neither of you heard the door open.

“Oh my god.” The voice sounded more exasperated than surprised. You leapt back from Pietro, almost tripping over your chair, but you righted yourself just in time.

Wanda was standing in the door, a grocery bag in her hands. “I brought your snacks,” she said to Pietro, dumping them at the end of his bed. “I’ll be back later when you two are done.” Pietro snickered. Your cheeks burned.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye @mcximffs @noz4a2 @rottenstyx @starmansirius @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @lanemarvels @marrigold-2002 @kathrinchek @alternativeprincess @annocaprosmaloka @thrutheburnout @idkman5335

Taglist info.

[duskyashe]

NaNoWriMo Day #16

[masterlist] [part one] [part three] [part four]

=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============

Bruce sat in the bat cave, long after he'd sent his kids to bed. In his hands were the batarangs Phantom had gifted him. They were unnaturally cold in his hands, but the chill never became painful. In fact, it was strangely almost comforting.

Thinking back on Phantom, Bruce wasn't sure what to make of their meeting. The kid seemed to be a few years younger than Tim, and had all but told them he was being hunted. Phantom had come to them seeking protection from someone, or multiple someones, for himself and four others, most of which were kids. On one hand, it made his heart ache, knowing these kids had to run from their previous homes, their "haunt". On the other hand, Phantom's genuine belief that they were something beyond human was obvious and more than a bit unsettling (he ignored the part of him that reveled in that belief, the part that had him on edge before an Arkham breakout, the part that saw Phantom and whispered "other, different, like me".)

His kids had held similar reservations, though they'd all agreed Phantom wasn't a threat. His gifts, though obviously magical and not human in nature, had felt benign and were reasonably well thought out, and though the level of research each gift had symbolized was slightly worrying, Babs had assured them she'd closed all the holes in their internet security those gifts had exposed. In the end, they'd all agreed to honor Phantom's request for refuge. The kid's relief was profound and practically soul deep, which reassured Bruce they'd made the right choice.

As Bruce fiddled with his new batarangs, which held a very faint green sheen at the edges, he remembered the moment his "feeling" had reached its peak. Something had changed, something big, when he'd accepted Phantom's gifts. He still didn't know what, exactly, had happened, but he'd felt some sort of shift in the energy Gotham exuded, in his children, in him. He had felt the sense of connection between him and his children grow ever so slightly stronger, and he knew they'd felt it, too.

Bruce flipped the batarang in his dominant hand and caught it with ease, returning it to the holster with a sigh. Whatever Phantom was, whoever he was running from, whatever his presence meant for his family, and Gotham as a whole, Bruce had a feeling they'd be crossing paths with him again soon.

=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============

Danny phased invisibly into his and Jazz's apartment, turning human as he sat at the table with a thoughtful frown on his face. Jazz looked over at him from the stove, a questioning look on her face, though she didn't pry, which he was thankful for. He needed to gather his thoughts before he explained what had happened tonight.

When Jazz placed a bowl of spaghetti in front of him, Danny took a deep breath. "You owe Sam ten bucks," he started, smiling at Jazz's soft curse. "Condor is definitely connected to death, but they're equally connected to life, and the only being or creature we know of that is perfectly balanced between life and death, that isn't a halfa, is a phoenix. They also don't have that slimy, necromantic feel liches are supposed to."

Jazz hummed as she swallowed her mouthful. "What about the others? How close were we on our guesses of them?"

"Well, Batman is definitely a guardian deity, and Gotham is definitely his territory. Ibis, who I actually interacted with, was also spot on, definitely a kitsune. You should have seen them move, Jazz, it was almost ethereal how gracefully they moved. Oh, and Starling? Definitely at least related to banshees. I don't think they're a true banshee, because that connection to death wasn't there, but they're at least related to banshees." Danny paused to take a few bites before continuing. "I think Signal is a Will-o'-the-wisp, actually. You know how I thought they'd be a vengeful spirit? Having been in their presence, I gotta say, not very vengeful. Very mischievous, somewhat malicious, but mostly protective, strangely enough. Same with Raven, they practically ooze protective vibes, along with some very pointed trickster energy. I think Raven might be some sort of protection based deity, under Batman's authority, with strong trickster leanings, which is an interesting mix in my opinion. Oh, and Robin is definitely fae, they've got a very ethereal look to them, paired with their grace and general mischievousness, there's no doubt. BlackBat is more difficult to say. I think they're either a shape changing shadow wolf or otherwise just living shadows. Even when they were illuminated by my glowy self, I could barely see them. It was trippy, I'll tell you that much right now."

They continued eating in silence for a bit before Jazz asked, "So am I signing the full lease tomorrow, or are we moving on?"

Danny grinned. "Oh no, we're good. Batman actually told me to get the others here as soon as possible." His grin mellowed to a small, warm smile. "I think he's worried about them, Jazz. When I mentioned only two of us were currently in Gotham because the others weren't able to come with us when we left, he asked if we needed help getting them here. He seemed to relax when I told him we had a plan and that they were just waiting for the go-ahead from our end."

"Are you going to call them after we finish dinner, then?" Jazz asked, taking another bite.

Danny nodded. "Yeah, Ellie will grab them in the middle of the night. They'll wait until morning with Frostbite before portaling in so we can get the lease signed." He paused, stirring his spaghetti absentmindedly as he thought. "I think," he started haltingly. "I think the bat clan aren't actually aware they're not human."

Jazz paused, spaghetti falling off her fork and back into her bowl as she stared at him in shock. "What do you mean, how could they not know their own natures? You guys pegged them as eldritch beings as soon as you discovered them, they have to know!"

"I don't know, they just. They didn't seem to understand why I was giving them gifts or behaving the way I was. They also looked very confused at a few of my gifts, like they weren't sure why I'd chosen that specific thing for them, even though it makes sense for what kind of being they are!" Danny huffed. Then he sighed. "If they don't actually know what they are, then someone needs to explain it to them. They deserve to know what they are, especially because some of their species have very specific instincts that could be very confusing, even terrifying, for someone who thinks they're human. I... Should I offer to teach them more about themselves next time I see them?"

Jazz looked at him with a small smile. "If you think they'd be receptive to it, I think that'd be for the best, especially if you're right about them thinking they're human. I highly doubt we'll be the only Fright to seek asylum here, after all."

Danny nodded. "Then tomorrow night, I'll make the offer. If we get kicked out because I offend them, then at least we'll all be together."

=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============

This would have been longer, or at least done sooner, if I hadn't had an ocular migraine come out of nowhere earlier today (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠) but after a two hour nap, I could actually see again, so I was finally able to get to work on this ficlet! ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>⁠o⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠✧ I had a lot of fun coming up with what the members of the Batfam had managed to become due to the entire city believing them to not be human (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠) Jason was fun, cuz I hadn't really thought about what exactly liches were before, so when I realized that Voldemort from Harry Potter was basically a textbook lich, I knew I had to change my initial plan for Jason (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ but hey, now he gets super strength and the ability to heal himself from anything, including death! Much better than being able to create essentially undead thralls lol (⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠)

I'm seriously hoping to continue this into at least one more part, with the Bats coming to terms with and learning more about their new supernatural status, possibly even the Justice League initiating contact with the distinctly not human protectors of Gotham, but we'll have to see what prompts I find (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

OH! ALSO! I'm so close to reaching 200 followers! When I do, I'm thinking of celebrating somehow, but I'm not sure what to do. If any of you have any ideas, please, let me know! I might take your suggestion to heart (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆ also, if I get to 260 by the 26th of this month, I'll do another celebration lol

Y'all are awesome, thank you so much! I've got some more people who asked to be tagged in this continuation, so here's hoping I get them all again! @airis-hunter, @little-pondhead, @stealingyourbones, @crystallicedart, @summerfox1988, @minnesota-fats, @edgemcjee, @fire-glass, @f4nd0m-fun, I think you all asked to be tagged (or at least heavily implied it) if I continued my fake cryptids real ghosts au, so here ya go!

Have a good morning/day/night!

[musingsbycaitlin]

HEY! Writeblr Intro!!!

Hi, my name is Caitlin, and I’m a third year Creative Writing student in rainy England. I’ve got a couple WIPs but none are set in stone so you’ll have to bear with me for a while haha.

- I’m here for a good time so my writing is solely based on my mood and vibe at the time, please do not expect consistency.

- I write short stories mainly but am trying to branch out into novels so you’ll hopefully be seeing a bit more of that in the future.

- I am a university student with anxiety and decision fatigue so things change drastically around here every so often but I promise if I go quiet I will come back.

Let’s get into the WIPs (these will be constantly edited and changing) and feel free to ask me any questions about any of them, even ones that might have been removed from this list if you’re interested.

IF I GIVE UP, SO MUST YOU - a Wild West literary fiction novel

STATUS: currently drafting (on hiatus)

GENRE: literary fiction, sapphic romance(?)

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 3,995

Okay, so a bit of info about this project. I started writing it a bit ago purely because I wanted to write a Wild West novel and then it turned sapphic and then it became literary. It follows an unnamed narrator as she navigates life outside of her small town after she is targeted by bandits in a raid. A coming of age novel that explores what it means to figure things out for yourself whilst battling with false truths engrained into your from a young age.

NIGHT SWIMMING (working title) - a short story collection

STATUS: literally haven’t even started :/

GENRE: literary, horror, surrealist

This collection is my version of NaNoWriMo this year because there is no way I can feasibly write a novel in a month where I also have to write my dissertation first draft and three other short stories like no. I’m hoping to do an update on my page whenever a story is complete, so I will also update this section to include the names of all the stories going in. Stay posted is all I’m saying ;). All I know is I want it to explore the everyday in a surrealist way (as most of my stories do).

DAMAGED GOODS - a dystopian sci-fi novel

STATUS: currently drafting (on hiatus)

GENRE: dystopian, sci-if, speculative

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 2,323

So, I haven’t done an intro post to this yet simply because I had to put it to one side once university started again. A brief summary is this: Auden, an average guy, husband, and father, has gotten into a dreadful car accident. In this society, however, surgery is replaced with metal transplantation. Due to Auden’s extensive injuries, he now must live in suburbia with a completely metal head, arm, and leg.

I’m super happy with this concept and the initial 2,000 words I’ve got I’m pretty okay with. The main issue is where to take it and if it will be a full novel or more of a novella.

EAT YOUR YOUNG - a gothic horror novella

STATUS: currently drafting

GENRE: gothic horror

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 4,950

I haven’t done an intro for this project because I honestly wasn’t sure I’d return to it but the spooky season is upon us and I really want to get back into writing this. Brief Summary: Mr Gerard is an accountant hired by the Heron Manor estate to deal with the affairs of the three sisters residing there after a mysterious death of the man of the house.

This is going to me my main personal priority other than my short stories for now and I’ll try to get an intro out soon.

Okay, so that’s all for me folks. Like I said, any questions please feel free to send me an ask or a message, don’t be a stranger. As a writer I always wanna talk about my projects, OCs, and anything else writing craft related!

I’m tagging some mutuals, if you wish to be tagged or removed :( - let me know x

@annlillyjose @dallonwrites @aesa @winterandwords @iannicellis @isherwoodj

[nanowrimo]

5 Tips for Building a Sustainable Writing Practice

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. First Draft Pro, a 2023 Camp NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a great writing app—whether you’re writing solo or with a co-author. Here are a few tips for building a sustainable writing practice, brought to you by author Ariana Brown and First Draft Pro.

We’ve all heard the advice to “write every day,” as if it were that easy! Translation: suck it up, no one cares if you’re tired. But what if there was another way to get writing done, without being unkind to yourself? 

Hi, I’m Ariana Brown, and I teach writers how to create a writing practice that is sustainable, flexible, and fulfilling. Most of my students are chronically ill, disabled, neurodivergent, or simply exhausted from the daily stresses of life. I know writing isn’t your only responsibility—capitalism makes sure of that! But I strongly believe that writing should be an enjoyable activity you look forward to.

Below I’ve compiled my top tips for exhausted writers who want to be kinder to themselves—and still get the work done.

1. Add pleasure to your writing routine.

Sensory pleasures are neither frivolous nor are they only for children. They’re a crucial part of being alive! They give us something to look forward to when times are tough and we need motivation. Candles, soft blankets, cold beverages, mood lighting, dance breaks, yummy treats—whatever you choose, make sure it’s something you love. Paint your nails a fun color so you have something beautiful to look at while you’re typing away. Make a playlist of your favorite songs and after you finish a chapter, blast one song so loudly you have to get up and dance. Then, get back to writing. Remember, even for the most focused among us, pleasure is a better motivator than shame.

2. Be clear about your intentions.

What brought you to writing in the first place? For some, it was the ability to escape into our imaginations. For others, it was the chance to finally express what we’d been holding inside. Identify your reason for writing, then ask yourself: Am I still enjoying this? Do I still feel connected to my reason for writing? If not, explore how you can strengthen your connection to your inner child’s reason for writing. 

3. Work with your brain, not against it.

If we know that everyone’s brain works differently, why do we force strict discipline and linear processes on ourselves? My advice: find or create a writing process that works for you. Maybe you love outlines; maybe you prefer to see where the words take you. Either way, make space for wandering, play, and discovery as you write. Take brain breaks. Doodle, map, dance, and draw when you get distracted. Body double with other writers, try new exercises and prompts to make the writing sing, and take plenty of breaks to stretch your body and talk to friends. We come to writing with our whole selves. Listen to your body, don’t shut it off.

4. Find a writing community.

You don’t have to wait for a community to come to you! I offer co-writing sessions on Zoom four times a month for my Patreon supporters, but do what works for you. Attend local open mics as an audience member and cheer on your peers. Invite your best friends to your living room once a month for a two hour writing/crafting session. Or check your local library and bookstores for free workshops and author events. You don’t have to do this work alone.

5. Develop a gratitude practice.

Finishing your draft is a huge accomplishment, but it’s not the only milestone to be celebrated. Consider creating opportunities to thank yourself throughout your writing practice. You’re doing an amazing and difficult thing. The fact that you keep showing up is worthy of celebration. Whether you decide to journal, rest, pray, meditate, or reward yourself, a little gratitude goes a long way.

Ariana Brown is a queer writer from San Antonio, TX, based in Houston. She is the author of We Are Owed (Grieveland, 2021) and Sana Sana (Game Over Books, 2020), and a national collegiate poetry slam champion. Ariana holds an MFA in Poetry, MS in Library and Information Science, and a BA in African Diaspora Studies and Mexican American Studies. She has been writing, teaching, and performing for over a decade. Follow her online @ArianaThePoet and www.arianabrown.com. 

[suzukiblu]

Day five of fic NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

The Superboy problem is a problem, but it's a backburner problem. There isn't really much Tim can do about it, after all. Bruce isn't gonna accept "hey so I know secret identities and maintaining the Bat-mystique and everything but could you just like . . . take in an extremely high-profile teenage superhero with no vested interest in maintaining any kind of secret identity of his own, maybe?" as a plan. Tim needs something better. Something more functional. And also something Kon will actually go for.

And there's just no way that Tim can just walk up to a notoriously independent and proud and defensive teammate who barely considers him an acquaintance and say "do you want an apartment and monthly living expenses and maybe also an allowance, no strings attached?"

That would be weird, definitely.

Like. Very definitely.

Tim's still tempted to try it, mind. It's not like he couldn't afford it, with a little bit of abuse of his trust fund and a lot of lying to his dad. And really, would that even be an abuse? If helping his teammate live his fucking life outside of a fucking lab counts as an abuse . . .

Well, maybe he really will move up his supervillain timeline, that's all.

But it's a backburner problem, still, and Tim isn't actually thinking about it at all when his best chance to solve it pops up. What Tim is doing is suffering through a field trip to a Metropolis art museum, because the school board is full of cowards and thinks sending his grade to an outside-Gotham museum will decrease the chances of said field trip being interrupted by a museum robbery.

Obviously it will, but come on, they're from Gotham. Like they can't handle a museum robbery.

Also all the art here is pretentious. Like, in obnoxious Metropolis-type ways.

If Tim has to look at one more stylized interpretation of the sun reflecting on a skyscraper while a "subtle" caped figure flies by in the background, he will actually choke. Like literally, actually choke.

Get one original thought. Please. Someone. Anyone.

(No, the stylized interpretations of the moon reflecting on a Gothic building while a subtle caped figure looms among the gargoyles are not equally uncreative, thank you very much. At least duplicating Gotham architecture involves some actual artistry beyond "paint a few straight lines and add a lens flare".)

Tim takes some half-assed notes about the boringly generic exhibit they're here to see and then goes looking for literally anything more interesting than said exhibit. There's got to be some photography somewhere in this place, right? Or at least some loaner art that somebody outside of Metropolis put together before Superman's public debut. Or something.

He ends up in the ancient Mesopotamian exhibit mostly by trying to avoid people and, unfortunately, immediately runs straight into a magical artifact. He doesn't actually know it's magic at the time, but the assholes who are about to blow in an outside wall in pursuit of it sure do.

Tim, unfortunately oblivious to phenomenal cosmic power in clay form, thinks it looks kind of like a cute little toy goat and is just grateful it isn't another skyscraper.

Then the wall gets blown in.

"The school board deserves this," Tim mutters, closing his notebook and sticking it back in his bag because sure, why not. This might as well happen.

Ugh.

The very obvious thieves rush in through the gap in the wall. A few people scream–Tim assumes to be polite, since this is already the most unimpressive museum robbery he's seen in months–and the civilians scatter as the guards rush forward. Tim wonders why anyone's even bothering, given that this is Metropolis. What, are they worried the thieves aren't gonna validate their parking for them?

Seriously, Tim knows all the robbery statistics in this city. Even when Superman doesn't show up, the injury and fatality rates are shockingly low. It's statistically more dangerous to go for a walk in Gotham Park mid-afternoon than it is to be present for an armed robbery in Metropolis.

Which is funny, considering the people doing armed robberies in Metropolis come armed for Superman.

Look, Tim doesn't understand the statistics, he just records them.

The thieves tie up the guards first, which seems like a waste of time to Tim when time is of the essence but probably will be for the best if they get pinned down in the gallery, he supposes. Then again, that'd likely end up in a hostage situation anyway, so why worry about containing a couple of unarmed guards over saving thirty seconds when you're doing a smash and grab?

Seems inefficient to him, considering.

He keeps assessing the situation and taking mental notes as he ushers various classmates and museum-goers towards comparative safety, since a successful supervillain timeline requires appropriate research and development. And also, Metropolis-based criminals should know how to work around Superman, at least in theory, so it's best to keep an eye on what does and doesn't work for them.

Not for any specific reason, obviously.

Definitely not.

One of the thieves goes for the little clay goat, smashing its glass display case with their armored elbow, and only then do the museum alarms start screaming. Seems like a stupid design choice when an exploding wall doesn't set them off, but whatever, at least there are alarms.

Honestly, if it were him, Tim would have a silent alarm and a secondary alarm set to a specifically Superman-discernable frequency, though he's sure Superman would get sick of that quick in non-life-threatening situations, so maybe there are local regulations about that or something, who knows. He should look into that, actually. Or just play something annoying on a frequency normal human hearing can’t discern and see what happens, if nothing else.

They make sonic fences to keep dogs in and teenagers out, don't they? Same theory.

The thieves are all yelling orders to each other and arguing; no clear chain of command and a poorly-established plan, Tim notes. Most of the civilians are clear or behind cover, so if he just–

Right, Tim remembers belatedly as one of the thieves makes a grab for him. He's currently wearing civilian wear, isn't he.

That probably means he needs to let this incredibly clumsy grab work, doesn't it, he reflects resignedly. Definitely it does, actually.

Ugh.

Tim, dubiously, lets the thief grab him and debates how upset he's supposed to look about this situation. A Gothamite can't look too freaked out over a Metropolis criminal, obviously; he'd never live it down at school. Seriously, is this guy even armed, he–

Ah, never mind. Definitely armed.

And an idiot with no concept of trigger safety, judging by the way he's holding the gun he's currently jamming into Tim's temple.

Great. Just great.

What does this moron even think he's doing, anyway? The guards are all tied up, as far as he knows there's no superheroes on scene, and nobody's actually trying to stop them. If he accidentally murders a civilian right now, they're all going to be in way, way worse trouble than just stealing a little clay goat would entail.

Tim resists the urge to point that out since there is, again, a gun to his head right now and the person holding it there is in fact a moron with no concept of trigger safety. Not an ideal time to start a conversation, especially not to criticize said moron.

It's tempting, just again, not ideal.

"The fuck are you doing?!" one of the thieves yells to the one going to a really unnecessary amount of effort to drag Tim along. "You were supposed to grab a little kid for the hostage!"

"There's no little kids, Mark!" the thief holding Tim protests petulantly. "I'm doing my best here, man!"

"No names, asshole!" the apparent "Mark" yells back at him.

Tim is pretty sure these thieves are just not very good at crime in general. Or possibly just not very good at anything at all.

He starts calculating the best place to "trip" out of this guy's arms and "accidentally" elbow him in the dick–off-camera, obviously, he doesn't want to leave any footage for anyone to review later–and pretends to be a good little hostage in the meantime, if not a particularly cowed one. Again: Gothamite. He can't actually let it look like a Metropolis criminal did anything worse than mildly annoy him.

Okay, maybe like, Lex Luthor or Brainiac could get a Gothamite past "mildly annoyed", but not a half-assed handful of petty thieves with a shitty plan and an even shittier exit strategy. They would've been better off running in, grabbing what they wanted, and then just scattering; even Superman can't be everywhere at once, especially if the thieves all blended into the crowd or had a couple of getaway cars waiting or something similar. Multiple targets, it'd be easy for him to miss the right one until it was too late.

That would require actual skill and planning and genuine forethought, though, which are very clearly not things this crew has bothered with either developing in themselves or outsourcing to someone competent.

Tim is going to be so fucking embarrassed if he dies to a low-level Metropolis criminal's craptastic trigger discipline. At least the Joker got Jason. There was a plan and actual malicious intent there, and also intentional targeting of specifically him. Tim has apparently just been tagged as "person who looks easiest to hold hostage", which he guesses he could take as a good sign for his acting abilities but honestly is more likely just this guy being a fucking dumbass with less brains than a mummified limpet.

God, imagine what his classmates would put in the yearbook if he died on a Metropolis field trip, too. Actually, no, never mind, he doesn't even want to think about it. Too fucking mortifying a possibility.

The thief drags Tim closer to suitable "tripping" territory, Tim debates how hard he can elbow him and still claim it was accidental, and somebody says, "Are you fucking serious, man?"

Somebody, specifically, is Kon. He's standing in the middle of the hole in the wall in the full leather jacket and S-shield combo, hands on his hips and expression exasperated. Tim has a weird, irrational moment of thinking he actually recognizes him and wants to know how he fucked up this bad, but Kon's eyeing the thieves, not him.

"You know I'm gonna get blamed for this, right," Kon says, gesturing meaningfully at the smashed-in wall. "I always get blamed for the property damage."

"Back off or I'll shoot!" the thief holding Tim yells, jamming the barrel of his gun annoyingly hard into his temple.

"Does 'faster than a speeding bullet' mean nothing to you people?" Kon asks, tilting his head just enough to make it obvious that he's rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

"Superman is faster than a speeding bullet," another thief snaps. "Not you, you shitty little poser."

"I mean, you could try testing me and then get attempted murder on your crime bingo cards for absolutely zero reason," Kon suggests conversationally, smirking in amusement. "Security cameras still running in here?"

Tim guesses he's saved, technically, but this definitely means he can never tell Young Justice his secret identity, because if Kon recognizes him he will never, ever let him live this down.

Also, everybody at school is going to give him so much shit for getting saved by a Super.

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Midnight Rain Ch. 2

(I am so sorry for the long delay, I've been going through so much shit in RL & my writing has taken a backseat to everything, but im working on it and hopefully NaNoWriMo kicks me back into doing what I love!! Enjoy Chapter 2 of Midnight Rain :P )

Rich Mans World Series | Man After Midnight Series | Chapter 1 | Donations | Thoughts & Feelings

“Did you have to be such a bitch about it?!” Sebastian yelled as he rushed after Brooke who turned and slapped him. “You don't have the room nor the worth to stand there and call anyone a bitch when you didn't even have the balls to fucking tell him about what happened!!” Brooke and Sebastian continued to yell at each other, Chris sat in the living room for a moment listening to them fight. He got up, walking up the stairs and moved past them down the hallway as they fought before stopping at your door. 

You were lying in bed, facing the window when you heard the door open; You glanced over your shoulder to see Chris standing there. You shot up as you heard Brooke yell, “What are you doing?!” Chris shut the door behind him and locked it. He walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, looking down at the ground he didn’t dare bring a hand to touch you, or even face you. The silence felt like a weighted blanket draped over the two of you, holding you down in the shadows of a deadly secret. 

“I was….saving our wedding photo….that’s how they caught me in our bedroom….when you left, I moved the only one I had from my office to our bedroom. I didn’t care if everything else got destroyed. I could buy new stuff all day long…but not that photo…” he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph of the two of you. He stared at it, the edges were burnt, and he smiled softly. “I love this photo…” he whispered. You were staring up at him, a doe eyed look, evident on your features. Chris was smirking at the camera, but he didn’t care how he looked, he only cared about how you looked in the photo. You were holding onto his arm, staring up at him. He fell in love with it the moment his mother had sent it from the photographers. 

“I always liked that photo….” you whispered softly as he turned his head toward you, however his eyes remained on the floor. “You could have called me…” he said as you looked at him. “I was in a sedated state for two weeks in the hospital...they didn’t know if I would make it…Brooke informed them we were separated, that's why they didn’t call you.” you said. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said looking at you, finally meeting your eyes. 

You looked at him, your eyes glistening with tears, “but I couldn’t protect our little girl…” you sniffled as he moved, engulfing you in his arms as you sobbed into his chest. “But you protected yourself…now we can go after the son of a bitch who did this to our baby.”  Chris whispered, rocking you gently as he rubbed your back, letting you sob into his chest. You clung to him for dear life, feeling nothing but warmth and safety in his arms. “You don’t blame me?” you whispered looking up at him, as he looked down at you, “No baby…you did nothing wrong, this wasn’t your fault at all.” he whispered kissing your forehead. 

You and Chris stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while, until you’d both dozed off, Brooke and Sebastian had talked to Anthony, sharing what knowledge they all had about that night, which they’d learned what happened to you, and what happened to Chris seemed to happen on the same night. Anthony shared with them how Chris’s physical therapy was going and how he had been trying to figure out who came after him but they were coming up on a dead end. 

“I mean…it had to be the Irish right? Who else is at war with Chris that they would try to kill Y/N, and his child?” Brooke asked as she poured each of them a drink. “It's just…..the Irish extended an olive branch to Chris months ago…..well before this happened. Which was weird in the first place.” Anthony said sipping the bourbon Brooke had poured. 

Brooke glanced at Seb as she downed the contents of her own glass, causing both men to look at her. “Well that’s great I think but it still leaves the question of who is responsible for this?” She asked as Anthony shook his head; “I don't know…but we need to find out.” 

When you woke up, Chris was snoring softly next to you. You hadn’t slept as well as you did that night, since you’d left Chris months ago. You watched him sleep for a little bit before rolling over and staring at the ceiling. You wondered what life would have been like, a little girl with him, would he have spoiled her? Would he’ve gotten up and done the late night feedings and changings? Would he have spent more time at home with you and her instead of out at the clubs? Yes. he would have been the most perfect father to the children you could of had together. A voice called in the back of your mind. You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, wishing you could go back, beg Brooke to not leave that night. 

“You look so beautiful in the mornings.” Chris whispered softly; you opened your eyes, seeing him watching you, as he smiled softly. You felt your lips pull back just a little, smiling for the first time in months. You both laid there, arms and legs tangled together, you both laid in silence for a while before a soft knock on the door alerted you both that you weren’t alone. “Y/N…I’m going to run to the store…Anthony is here for Chris so I’ll make sure Sebastian stays behind in case you need anything.” 

“Why don’t I come to the story with you today?” you asked as you got up, Brooke was silent for a moment, “Are you sure? You haven’t left the house since you got home from the hospital.” Brooke pointed out. You walked over, opening the door so she could come in and nodded at her. “Yeah, I feel like I should go with you.” you said, giving her a shrug. “Gotta face the world sometime right?”

Chris sat up, “If you’re not up for it Y/N, don’t push yourself.” But you looked back at him and gave him a small tight smile, “It’ll be good for me, don't worry,” you changed into a pair of jeans, pairing it with a black shirt and tan sweater. You grabbed your purse and walked downstairs with Chris after he’d gotten dressed as well, smiling a little at Bucky and Brooke before looking at Chris, “Um…how about I call you later? We can talk and see how everything is going,” you said, shoving your hands in your pockets. 

Chris looked taken back before he nodded, “Right, yeah, I’ll talk to you later and check in with you.” He grabbed his jacket before he looked at Sebastian, “When you get some time, let’s talk about a few things.” he shook his hand before walking out with Anthony. 

You left with Brooke, going to the store for the first time since you were pregnant. You noticed how things looked different and the same, you carried on with light talking while you two drove on; and once at the store, you helped her grab a few different things. “Why don’t we get some snacks and have a movie night tonight?” Brooke asked as you smiled and nodded, “I’d really like that. I’ll go grab some chips, salsa, candy, and some stuff to make that dip your mom taught you to make!” you grinned as she did too, “yes!! Okay! I’m gonna go grab ice cream, toppings, and whatever else sounds good!” she took off toward the frozen section while you went to grab a basket and grab your list. This was the first time anything really had sounded good to you in a long time. 

As you shopped you reached for a bag of chips, when another hand reached for the same bag. You looked over, withdrawing your hand and apologizing when the gentleman in front of you chuckled and handed you the bag. “I’m sorry, here, front bags are always fresher,” he said smiling at you.  You were frozen like a deer in headlights, he was handsome, and a dazzling smile to match. “Oh, uh,” you let out a soft giggle, “Thank you, but go ahead, I can get a different bag.” you said looking up at him as he grinned at you, placing the bag down in your basket. “Don’t worry about it sunshine. I don’t mind.” he winked before turning to grab a bag himself. He was tall, with short, soft, blondish-brown hair, bright blue eyes and a dashing bright smile. “Well thank you sir,” you felt yourself blush as you stared at him, he was captivating as he stood tall and smiled down at you, “I’m Steve…Steve Rogers,” he held his hand out to you.

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[apprenticestanheight]

you put the idea out there and now i cant stop thinking about it, any headcannons on how poly!chainshipping would go down?

Poly! Chainshipping headcanons

Hi!! I have had this idea on my brain for a while now and I posted the poll referencing it more than two weeks ago! If my memory serves right this came in around the time that the poll was posted, so I apologize for the wait--a lot of personal stuff has been going on as has planning for NaNoWriMo this month hasn't been the best in terms of my writing frequency lol.

Fic type- this is fluff mostly! Mentions of the bathroom trap, though

Warnings- mentions of smokes/smoking--the reader gets put into the trap due to a nicotine addiction in part so it's discussed a lot

Okay, so

the way that the three of you meet is through the bathroom trap--Lawrence is put there due to a lack of empathy and for cheating on his wife, Adam is put there because of his spying on people via photography, and you're there because of an innate sense of cynicism and hopelessness that's reflected through your personality and the way that you move through life coupled with a minor nicotine addiction.

Adam takes the cigarette when you all find them but you refuse despite the craving because all that Jigsaw had said in your regard was to let go of former vices and trust those around you--let yourself have hope and be optimistic.

Letting go of former vices was obviously in reference to your nicotine use, and you fought the cravings you were dealing with despite the fact that fending them away made you want to bite off your own hand.

in the end, as the story goes, Lawrence cut his own foot off. He told you and Adam that he would be back with help, and you had no choice but to trust him.

The following days were pretty bad--you and Adam would talk through the darkness, telling each other about your lives and reminding one another of Lawrences promise.

Eventually, John Kramer came around with one of his apprentices. They knocked you out with the top of the toilet, which Adam had used to kill Zep Hindle, and you were taken to separate hospitals in the Jersey area.

You give a statement to the police and book a hotel for a week--you were taken from your apartment and going back kind of stings, so you prolong the fact that you'll have to do so anyway.

In the week you stay at the hotel, your manager at work gives you paid time off rather than unpaid because you're traumatized and they feel guilty.

It's not a dampener on your paycheck, either, as they did something that's probably a little illegal and wrote off the shifts you missed in a way that still lets you get paid for those days.

You start going for walks and eventually wind up at the Jigsaw support group. You know Adam would find it stupid but Lawrence would probably appreciate it, and you know that a support system is what you need

even if the support system is made up of strangers, even if your trap is a hell of a lot more tame than some of theirs, it's still nice.

Lawrence ends up at the support group, and when you see him it's like your world completely flips over.

Adam also shows up that day and you're startled to realize your world has flipped over twice in under twenty minutes.

Your conversation goes something like this:

"Lawrence! I didn't expect to see you here--I've missed you lately, how've you been?" and then you look at Adam and you're like "You are the last person I thought I would see at a support group. I've missed you, though. A lot."

Lawrences response is "things aren't so great. Heard about this in the paper, figured I'd see what it's all about."

Adams response is: "Heard about it on the news. Thought I'd come around for some half decent free food, but seeing you guys again is a nice bonus."

And things just kind of...develop from there?? Afterwards Lawrence is like "let's grab a coffee--my treat!" and you and Adam both agree because you never thought you'd see him or each other again but holy fuck is it nice.

Things are a little stilted for a few weeks as you all develop feelings for one another. You're all distracted because you're deeply in love but haven't told one another yet and so the conversation comes and goes, but like--it's obvious from the get-go that you support each other and are consistent in that support.

After the trap, you decided to quit cigarettes cold turkey. A bit of a rash decision in hindsight, but Adam and Lawrence devise a system where they learn what your tells are when the cravings kick in and they do something to distract you instead.

Lawrences mode of distraction is to tell you about his day or, when the weather is cold, offer to go on walks.

You end up adopting a cat that you leash train. Adam finds that HILARIOUS because you genuinely take the cat outside on leash for a solid half hour once every few days. Lawrence even laughs a little to himself when he suggests a walk while the cravings are getting so bad that you're starting to shake because--

it's a cat. on a leash. Actively enjoying time outdoors. It's not the norm in Jersey so seeing it is kind of a spectacle.

Adams way of distracting you is like his love language--physical touch

especially after you've all confessed your feelings to each other and are actively romancing it up

Adam will pick up on one of your tells--grabbing the lighter you have and flicking it a few times is your biggest because the lighter is what you grabbed first, then you'd find your cigarettes and go out onto the porch for a bit.

Adam just kind of,, grabs the lighter from you while pressing a kiss to the side of your head and pockets it while saying that you're stronger than your addiction.

You give in because there's no point in fighting against him, let him smother you in kisses and affection instead while trying to avoid thinking about the fact that you'll have to go into work the next morning

There are two ends of the scale. Lawrence sits on one side of it while Adam sits on the other--Lawrence is a law abiding citizen who regularly makes a point out of sleeping eight or nine hours, makes sure he eats healthily and doesn't engage in anything like drinking or smokes too often.

Adam is the opposite--because he doesn't have insurance, he's not been to the doctor in quite some time (other than the trip post-trap, which he spent several hours contesting the bills for to get it down from nearly $7000 to $250) and he likes his cigarettes and takeaway food.

You are somewhere in the middle--you have insurance because you worked the mandatory 2000 hours and two years of work to become eligible so all of your current health records are up to date. However, like Adam, you had to spend several hours calling the right people and getting your charges reduced because there was no way you could afford $7000 in medical bills if you were paying it out of pocket. You don't really care enough to watch what you eat, so to speak (you, too, are a semi-regular enjoyer of takeaway but you monitor things like your hearts BPM and you try to avoid stuff that will just make living more difficult via health issue) and because of your addictions you avoid cigarettes vehemently but you don't mind things like weed or the occasional glass of brandy

It's like--Lawrence isn't chaotic at all. Adam has moments where he's chaos incarnate. You?? you bounce between neutrality and chaos somewhat infrequently.

Generally, though?? it's a very nice existence. You watch SO MANY SUNSETS together and you and Adam somehow convince Lawrence to smoke weed with you which is a fun experience