#SMILES this is a wip btw but i already had so much so i figured id upload in chunks

[boygirlctommy]

also heres some animatics i have saved :]

[the-blind-assassin-12]

WIPS ON WIPS ON WIPS

So... over the last week or three, I've been tagged *checks notes* NINE (9) times in various wip posts, and I responded to *checks notes unnecessarily* NONE (0) of them. 🤦🏻‍♀️I am so sorry to everyone who tagged me for not responding sooner, I very much appreciate the tags and the interest/support. My brain has been down the drain for a while, so I've not really had anything worth sharing. BUT! I'm fixing that right here, right now, because better one to three weeks late than never, right?

Last Line Tags:

1- @something-tofightfor tagged me after sharing an upcoming part of Fool's Gold (which I have been LUCKY enough to read a few parts ahead on, and let me tell you guys, we're all in for a TREAT with this story), specifically looking for Jack or Marcus snippets. So let's go with the cowboy, shall we?

“I read you, Jack.” You waited a beat, heart slamming at your ribcage as you stared at the back of his seat in front of you. “Everything alright?” Well that’s a dumb question that I already know the answer to.  He let out a small humorless laugh that sounded far too flat to come from the man you knew. “Oh, just peachy.” You winced, closing your eyes and focusing on his voice. “Listen, I know Champ and Ginger want you to stick with me on this one. But I…” He swore under his breath. “I need you to stay with the Pony when we land. Can you promise me that?”  What? Your eyes flew open, brow creased with confusion. “That’s not…” You shook your head even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “Jack, that would be a violation of a direct order. I can’t-”  

2- @djarins-cyare tagged me in a sneak peek of a Din story she's working on, so I figured I'd reciprocate with some tin can man of my own.

You gasped as you stepped out from the cavern, mouth dropping open and eyes going wide as you took in the sight of the open sky, illuminated by Concordia’s silvery green glow, for the first time in your life. It’s real. You took another step, chin tilted upwards as you spun in a slow circle. A tear rolled down your cheek and slipped over your lip, your tongue flicking out to lick it away. It’s… “Beautiful,” you whispered. 

3- @oonajaeadira tagged me when she shared a snippet of Leave Off Your Wandering, which I cannot wait to catch up with because I adore that story so so much. The next thing I have cooking in my own Joel story is actually an Ellie interlude, so let's see what that girl is up to.

The faces that graced the pages of her notebook were all familiar ones, all people that mattered, all people that she loved. Working cameras were scarce in Jackson, and finding film for them wasn’t exactly easy either. But even if she could indiscriminately snap photos of everyone she cared about, she’d still opt to sketch them instead. To her it was a labor of love, capturing their features as she saw them through her eyes, using her own hand to create each likeness.  Joel on the porch steps with his guitar. Dina smirking with her arms crossed. Jesse with his teasing grin. There was a sketch of her and Kat from when they were together that still made Ellie smile even though they’d decided to go back to being friends. She’d even drawn scenes and images of things she’d seen around town or out on patrols. There was a whole page in one of her earlier books dedicated to her birthday trip to the Wyoming Museum of Science and History, including a side by side comparison of Tommy and the thick-skulled dinosaur that Joel swore was the spitting image of his brother. 

4- @burntheedges spoiled us by sharing TWO snippets - one of Girl Dad Frankie and one of Ballet AU Din (which I am very interested in, btw) and since I already shared some Din, let's see what I have for Francisco. (this is from a very nebulous wip for a Dog Rescue AU)

Standing from his desk and crossing his arms loosely over his chest, Frankie shifted his weight to one leg and called over his shoulder. “Hey, Ben?”  “Yeah?” The other man’s footsteps grew closer until he was standing in the doorway, one hand leaning on the frame. “You need somethin’? What’s- oh.” Frankie moved aside so Benny could see what - and who - he was looking at. “Well I’ll be goddamned.” The grin he wore was audible, causing Frankie to roll his eyes. Cocky little shit. “Guess I was right. She came back.”  “Yeah,” he said, letting out a small huff that was just as much astonishment as it was amusement. She sure did. He watched as you finished parking in the same spot you’d pulled into two days earlier, directly next to his truck, and then pulled a box out of the back seat. 

5- @stealyourblorbos tagged me in some wip drawings of Miguel O'Hara - a character who I only know through and because of her stunning artwork of him - and what I know I like very much. Gonna be *vague* here and post a couple bullet points from notes of something foolish I'm working on:

You’re co-starring in an action movie with Dieter. It’s your first time working together, but you get along really well and have instant chemistry. 

You’ve already filmed ⅓ of the movie - including a pretty hot sex scene - and now you’re working on scenes involving stunts and SFX.

Out Of Context Line Tags:

6- @littlemisspascal tagged me and shared a mystery snippet, so here I come with a mystery of my own. (this is fun. it's like tossing a confusion grenade and running away laughing.)

Normally, this was where he would veer away from the truth or else avoid it by changing the topic. It was a defense mechanism, putting up fences so tall he couldn’t be seen. In his mind, there was no point in delving into such deep character analysis. Not when the expiration date was already stamped on whatever skeletal relationship he was in with the mere asking of such a personal question

7- @burntheedges tagged me again but this time with no context. So I trade you one secret for another, Kate!

Despite the fact that you hadn’t fallen asleep until well after two in the morning, you were wide awake before sunrise the following day. For a moment, when you first blinked your eyes open, you thought - hoped - that it had all been a very vivid dream.

8- @keldabe-kriff came in hot with something that I truly have no context for, so in that vein, here you go.

“I can’t fucking believe it, Joel.” She plopped down on the seat beside him, drawing one leg up and resting it over his thigh. Hands coming up to the sides of her face, she blew out a breath that broke into a laugh. “Two offers? I-”  She laughed again, stopping only when he reached over to encircle one of her wrists with his fingers, pulling it down and away from her face. “I can.”

9- @rulexofxnines tagged me and shared a moodboard for an upcoming fic, and while I don't have a moodboard, here's the main inspo picture for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May server challenge that I've been fiddling with:

THANK YOU AGAIN TO EVERYONE WHO TAGGED ME!!! I promise I am digging myself out of this deep funk and things are going to start moving again!!

[leapyearkisses]

For the director's cut: Could you do Nice Work If You Can Get It? (Eliseo/Padgett)

That fic... Changed me. I'll never forget it TBH.

Yes, I'd be happy to! This one was really fun to write, and it was the beginning of two OCs I am very fond of now (and who I am happy to know made an impression on quite a few people!).

(If anyone enjoys this director's cut thing and wants to see one for another of my stories, ask away. I had a lot of fun!)

Commentary in bold below the cut! NSFW, mess, deliberately sneezing on people, m/m

This story started from a prompt about one character hiring someone to get them sick. An intriguing idea!! But it was one I actually struggled with finding a groove for when I started out. I actually started a few different scenarios with different character dynamics before I figured this one out. I have a 2600-word WIP of a different version of this in my "unfinished" folder.

"All right... close your eyes." Eliseo swallowed and did so, blocking out his bedroom, the red-gold sunset light pouring in from the windows, and Padgett, who was straddling his hips. He could still hear, quite easily, the other man's labored breathing and feel the heat of his thighs... and his crotch. Eliseo was under no illusion that he was in an incredibly compromising position at the moment. He hadn't thought much about the.. particulars when he'd first decided to strike this deal. "Are we really doing this?" he asked, voice weak.

I can't really write fetish porn without including actual porn lol, so from the beginning it was sexy even without the snz. In this version, the POV character is Eliseo, who is the "naive" character in a way. I pretty much write pairs where one character has the fetish and their partner does not but is indulgent. The one with the fetish is usually embarrassed about it or somehow naively realizing they like this weird-ass thing. Padgett laughed, voice tumbled and edging on hoarse. "Hey now. Not getting cold feet are we, my lord?" His exhale ghosted over Eliseo's forehead and his tousled black hair touched Eliseo's cheek.

Padgett is the confident character, and he brought the humor to this scenario! Eliseo cleared his throat. "No..." He could imagine the other man's smug look. They'd known each other long enough now that the image rose unbidden to his mind's eye. Padgett's eyes always glittered like opals when he was scheming something. Padgett surprised him with a tender touch on the shoulder, and he almost opened his eyes again. "The safe word is 'pumpernickel,'" he said, managing not to chuckle. "We can stop whenever you want... Hhk-" He fought off a gasp. "Decide hh quickly, though." Eliseo shivered. "I'm okay. Let's do it." He didn't want to admit it, but Padgett's reassurance did put him at ease, even if this had been his idea. He relaxed and tried to lose himself in the late afternoon heat. "Yehh-s, my lord." Padgett leaned forward and took a shaky breath. It stuttered and caught on invisible hooks, sounding at once to be full of potential and then gone again, like a ghost at the window. Eliseo could feel his body tightening again with anticipation, especially when Padgett gasped and leaned back. "Hh-... hah--

"A ghost in the window" eehhh this is kind of overworked. I like to write descriptively even when it isn't necessary. "Huh-ktschht!" A warm rush of air burst in Eliseo's face, almost immediately followed by a watery spray over his forehead, closed eyes, and nose. His instant reaction was to curl back, or try to, and he had his hands braced on Padgett's chest before he could think about it.

I had never written anything quite this scandalous as it were. There hadn't been a lot of snzfic I had read where there was direct, purposeful contagion like this or quite so much mess description directly on the skin, the face even. So I was sweating while writing this lol. "Hey now," said Padgett, delayed by a sniffle. His tone was light. "Easy. You specified this in the contract, remember?" He rested his hands lightly on Eliseo's wrists. "How are you feeling about it?"

CONSENT IS THE SEXIEST THING. We get this instinctual edge of revulsion from Eliseo because he has not acknowledged to himself that he likes snz yet and also he has never allowed anyone to do this to him before because why would anyone do this? Eliseo found he was holding his breath, but- Well, that would defeat the purpose of this exercise. He cautiously let it go and then opened his eyes. Padgett was gazing down at him, looking neither smug nor concerned, just curious. "I- this was on instinct," Eliseo murmured. After a beat, he lowered his hands, and Padgett let him go easily. "Yes, I imagine so. It's natural." Padgett smiled then, and then his expression crinkled. "Wh- hh- want to do it again? Hkt-- hhh..." Eliseo forced himself to surrender again to his pillows. "Yes." Again, he closed his eyes. Padgett shifted forward on his lap and oh- but then he was sneezing one more. "Huh- hktsschit!" Again, the spray. This time it dusted over Eliseo's nose and mouth. He fought to keep from thinning his lips and... took a deeper breath. Padgett hadn't moved, was still fighting with his own lungs, reeling in another insistent sneeze like a stubborn trout. "Huh- hh... hh hh huh-" He made an annoyed sound. "Hah-- hah-krttschtts!" Eliseo felt droplets of saliva decorate his cheekbone. Padgett sniffled thickly.

I think artists often point out how funny it is that when they're drawing they mimic the face of the character. I do this with sneeze sounds (IF I'M ALONE). I tend to like softer sounds for my characters, so a lot of sibilance creeps in. "...Bless you," Eliseo murmured. He was feeling hot. Maybe it was Padgett on top of him. The man was running a fever. "You are... doing the job admirably." That earned him a laugh. Padgett shifted his weight to his heels, which did interesting things to his cock's relation to Eliseo's own. "Thanks, I guess? I never would have thought anyone would be hiring for this, much less you." "Circumstances are dire," Eliseo intoned without a hint of irony.

Eliseo is a card. I love him. Of the two of them he is much more my preferred "type." He is similar to my mage character Llewellyn but less fussy. "Mmhm." Padgett sniffled again. "You must really hate weddings. Couldn't you have just gone on a hunt or something this weekend instead?" Eliseo sighed. "No. My sister would do anything to ruin my plans if I tried to avoid the party any normal way. But luckily, she's terrified of germs. I think a miserable head cold will be the ticket." Like hell he wanted to sit through another of his sister's weddings. Every time it was some new, world-changing drama. He wasn't even sure whether the groom this time was noble born. No doubt the reception gossip would be scathing. What absolute drivel.

There's a little "my lord" up there before, but this is kind of where the setting is characterized - Eliseo is a noble and this is a time and place where nobility matters. However, it's also anachronistic, because germ theory is a thing. They're kind of in a pseudo Regency/Victorian world where I just write whatever feels like the most fun. "Lucky also that you have me around, hm?" Padgett's next chuckle turned into a bit of a cough. Eliseo patted his knee awkwardly. "I- well, yes. Very. But believe me when I say that I would not wish for you to be so stricken if I had the power to stop it."

People with shitty immune systems are my jam. Even if it's really unlikely, I love it. Sometimes especially if it's unlikely. Like mister high elf Llewellyn, or if they're a god or angel or something. Or in a world where if you had that bad of an immune system you probably would have died of diphtheria or pneumonia by now. "Of course, my lord." Padgett rubbed his nose. And though his breath hitched a few times in the following moments, he stayed where he was. Eliseo blinked. "Are we...?" Done? He didn't really think the exposure had been long enough. "I am ready." Padgett blushed a little. Blushed? "Sorry," he said. "I can kind of feel that, uh, the uh, next ones are going to be kind of... wet. I could blow my nose." His voice trailed off, wavering again. His nostrils twitched, and Eliseo did see within the promise of moisture. Perhaps it was the taboo of it, but Eliseo was alerted instantly to a sudden thickening of his cock. It pressed at his trousers with some gusto as Padgett sniffled again. Eliseo swallowed. "No. No, this is good. This will... help."

After consent, MESS is the sexiest thing. That's just how it goes. I don't make the rules. Padgett gave him a considering look, at least as well as he could between soft gasps and squinting against the itch in his nose. "If you're sure, my lord." "Just- call me Eli, like you used to," said Eliseo, stumbling over the words. He wasn't sure where they had come from, but now they were bare between them. Still, perhaps a bit of affection wasn't so odd compared to what they were already doing. Eliseo closed his eyes on Padgett's startled look.

I wasn't sure where this came from either. But suddenly they were in love and I was cool with it. Eli btw is pronounced like the name (Ee-lye) but Eliseo is pronounced Ell-ee-zay-oh in my mind. It's of Latin origin and means "God is my salvation" according to that authority Babynames.com lol. Padgett means "attendant" so that was chosen partially because he's Eliseo's employee but also because Padgett is just a SUPER English-sounding name. I really enjoy looking up name meanings and representing different traditions in my characters. I tried to give Eliseo's family members Latin names, too, although they're not mentioned here. "Eli," Padgett said, and he sounded like he'd just come home from a long war to find the hearth kept warm for him. "I will." He leaned forward again, bracing himself. "Now, I'm going to- to hih-- to snhhsneeze, hah-- haktschtsch! Hrh- Hnkgstschhiu! More spray this time, more wetness, and Eliseo gasped himself when he felt a thick drip against his chin. Padgett hadn't moved. When Eliseo tentatively looked up, he saw his friend caught in a limbo of urgency. His green eyes were shut, eyelashes fluttering. His nostrils, gently pink now, flared. A clear trail hung from one of them, quivering as Padgett panted. He looked wild and fever bright and teetering on a precipice. Eliseo ignored what it might mean that Padgett's desperate expression, his wet nose - even the mess - suddenly went to his cock. He was hard, looking up at a portrait of a sneeze.

Sometimes you just have to stop writing for a second and drink some cold water or something. Carefully, he placed a hand on Padgett's thigh. "It's okay," he said, words coming of their own accord. "I've got you." Padgett's fingers tightened fitfully in the sheet as he shifted his weight again. He was making soft, irritated noises. His nostrils flared and Eliseo saw another drip lying in wait on the cusp.

Fingers tightening fitfully in a sheet is a thing I love to describe. If you binge-read everything I've written, you will find that I write snz and sex in a very particular way over and over. Because that's what I like! And I'm super glad readers like it as well! But I can basically only find the motivation to write what I enjoy (when I write at all... .__.), which is why I only write m/m or nb characters and such. When the urge became too much, it was like watching a wave finally crash down. Padgett's breath caught; he tensed and leaned back. Eliseo hurriedly closed his eyes again, and none too soon. "Hhhhrektschuckh!" He felt the mess streak his face, fly to spatter his mouth and nose and chin. Padgett moaned and then gasped again, chest swelling with air.

SCANDALOUS "Hah- Huhrttschuh! Hshtt! Hah- hsshtt!" Again, he teetered, teasing the air with shivering gasps. Then, he abruptly folded with a crush of vowels and congestion. "Hggtschiucht!" A baptism, pondered Eliseo's brain as it detached from reality momentarily. Pinned as he was to the bed by Padgett's sex, he couldn't move when he felt himself coming just as abruptly as the sneeze. Somehow the slick wash had become a mounting sense of urgency in each of his muscles, racing from his fingertips and toes to his abdomen, where, quite unbidden, his cock had tugged all that energy into a gut-wrenching orgasm that sent the shockwaves back out with renewed vigor. Padgett whined, and Eliseo took him firmly by the shoulders and drew him in for a messy, off-putting, contagious, blindingly good kiss. "Wow," said Padgett, when they finally broke for air.

Wow, lol. I have a great imagination. I wish I could make myself write more often. "Don't ask me why," Eliseo muttered, but he refused to be made a fool of by embarrassment. "C- come here." He shifted to sit up further and put his hands on Padgett's hips. "I want-" He wanted. "This. Yes?" Before he could stop himself, he swept his tongue over Padgett's mouth, under his nose, to rest at the edge of a nostril. He tasted salt. It was not entirely pleasant, but whatever pilot was captaining his body right now didn't care. He could still feel his cock pulsing against his trousers.

Also the first time I wrote anything like this, but Eliseo was like go big or go home, so. Padgett moaned. "It feels... odd. But, my lord, you can do what you- I mean, Eli." He was breathless for different reasons now. Eliseo laved the tender skin above Padgett's lips, then licked up his septum. When Padgett shivered, Eliseo kissed him again. Slowly, he cleaned away the mess from Padgett's face. When he was finished, neither of them knew what to say. Eliseo was hard again.

Huahaha Eliseo can have an unrealistic refractory period. I don't really give a shit how accurate this stuff is when it would get in the way of the enjoyment. Not to the point where people are just going in without lube or something crazy like that, but being willing and able to go again is just sexy, so that's fine. Finally, Padgett laughed shyly. "I think you'll be catching your cold, Eli." Eliseo blushed and shrugged. "I should hope so. I am-" He bit his lip. "I'm not ready to stop. Will you stay the night? I'll look after you." Padgett kissed him, tenderly drawing them together. "I would like that, very much."

And then they DEFINITELY banged. I hadn't conceptualized their specific history together at this point, but Eliseo and Padgett were FWB while younger, so the "surprise" at meeting again like this in a sexy fashion is more like "Oh, are we doing this now, as adults with drastically different social standing?" and less "Hey, are you into me??"

I got more than one request to write the direct sequel to this, but I dunno. I usually prefer one character in the pair to be the one who is sneezing, and writing Eliseo sick isn't as fun. Partially because I'm much, MUCH more interested in the shy/embarrassed/"voyeur" dynamic, so someone who gets off on their own sneezes really does nothing for me. I do have a WIP of Eliseo sick that is a direct sequel to Carriage Shenanigans, but I have no idea if it will ever get finished.

Thanks so much for the request for this very fun exercise!

[shintorikhazumi]

I Have Two Sisters?! Chapter 1: Three Sisters and The Bastard Father (An LWAxRWBYxStarira Crossover)

A/N: What’s crazier than me writing a crossover I can’t get out of my head at 2am while still having multiple wips?

Writing a three-way crossover until 3am!!! (Ended at nearly 5am tho)

GAHHHHH.

Btw, this is a non-magic au. So Diana has no magic, and Weiss has no… semblance. Yes. Because the world of RWBY always goes “???!! OHMG, magic?!” Quite ironically. They become impressed at people turning into birds, but never flinch at Ruby who can separate herself on a molecular level. Sure.

I’ll be updating this sporadically, tbh. The updates will be as random as the coming of this idea. I do like it a lot, so I look forward to working on it. Just have to prioritize the wips.

[DO CHECK OUT THE END NOTES FOR SOME OF THE AU DETAILS AND BACKGROUND]

Still, I couldn’t let the concept pass me by so…

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

  I Have Two Sisters?! Chapter 1: Three Sisters and The Bastard Father

  The wind blew strong outside, rain water cold against her bleeding cheek. The numbness was her only relief from pain nowadays. She’d lost count of how many bruises she’d gotten this week. If only her mother hadn’t passed… If only she hadn’t had a bastard of a father.

Then maybe Diana’s life would have been much better than the shell that it now was.

He left her and her mother just as she turned three, the only support she got in the form of random gifts and her financial needs. Her father was nothing of a father. The man that… helped make her was never there. He never showed he cared. Everything he gave her felt obligatory. She hated it. Heck, she didn’t even know his last name, much less remember what he looked like. She did try looking it up at some point, but it seemed as if he was some kind of bigshot she couldn’t name.

Neither her mom nor her aunt had divulged his identity, so she had long since drew a blank to the man’s identity. All she knew was that his name was ‘Jack’ or something of the sort. She had long since adopted her mother’s as it didn’t feel right to take the name of a man she never knew.

All she knew was that he was the cause of all her sorrows. That wretched man had left her and her mother to fend for themselves. Even though her mom was of a strong, well-known medical lineage here in Britain, the fact that she had gotten pregnant out of wedlock labelled her as a shame to the Cavendish name, and she had been cast out to a vacation home in the outskirts of the foreign country, Japan.

After her death, however, the women who Diana now saw as practically witches with how cruel and evil they were decided that because their blood ran through her, took over their small land that she and her mother had cried blood and tears to call their own, and exploited the underage girl, believing she might be of some use as a pawn at the very least, for the sake of the Cavendish name.

And she was. For some time, until she had injured her arm, and was no longer capable of becoming the kind of doctor they wanted her to be, her hand slowly losing its immaculate dexterity, becoming constantly shaky, rendering her as only half the worth she originally was, and thus completely useless besides being their punching bag. Quite literally.

Diana Cavendish found herself spending the better part of her life being abused, and hiding in tool sheds, and escaping her dreaded household at every waking moment, just as she was doing right now.

She hardly believed in any religion, but she found herself always praying to get away from this hellish nightmare. She’d hope that even if she only had a jerk of a father, he’d soon realize that she was his flesh and blood that needed saving.

A hard knock came on the wood of her shed’s door. She flinched, no sound escaping. Had they found her?!

“Miss Cavendish? Miss Diana Cavendish? Are you in here?” An unfamiliar voice called for her, bold and confident sounding, but with kindness and worry interlaced. She felt like it was someone she should respond to. The situation felt like it was some kind of divine calling she should answer.

With legs shaking, she stood up, unlatching the bar that held the door closed and stepping out into the now late night that reeked of hot pavement, rain having stopped while she was lost in thought.

A police officer, clad in uniform and raincoat smiled at her in pity. She was both grateful for- and hated- that gaze. She wished it had come sooner, but at the same time, she disliked being thought of as sad and pathetic.

“Your aunt and her family have been arrested, Miss.” Her ears perked up at the voice and the message they conveyed. Looking up from the ground, she stared into the truthful eyes of the cop. “You’re safe now.”

And she truly hoped she was.

  //-//-//-//-//

  “Weiss.”

At the mention of her name from that familiar voice, she rolled her eyes internally, holding in the urge to snap at the man she called ‘father’.

“What.”

Maybe her control wasn’t as good as she thought.

“Don’t give me that tone. I know you hate me, but I am still the one that raised you!”

“You mean, you’re the one that paid for me.” The ex-heiress pointed out. Her father gritted his teeth, frown deepening as he stepped forward in an attempt to exert his dominance.

Weiss only raised a brow in challenge.

“Anyway.” Jacques continued. Weiss would have smirked as he neither acknowledged nor denied her statement, but she felt it wasn’t the best time. “You are yet to turn twenty, and as you aren’t considered an adult yet-“

“But I’m nineteen, father.” Weiss stated, confused, her raised brow now raised in question. “I’m of legal age, to drink even.”

“Not in Japan you aren’t.” He replied with a smirk so evil, Weiss would have loved to slap it right off if her mind wasn’t thrown in a state of emergency, dreading whatever plans her father had. Even if she wanted to do as she pleased, she couldn’t completely go against him as she was at the moment. Their family name was too widespread and known in the business world, and she feared the consequences of running away from her father who currently had her safety- and practically her life- in the palm of his hand.

“What are you planning.” She narrowed her eyes at him, fearing for the worst, but expertly masking that fear.

“I’ll be sending you away, just as you’ve always wanted. I’ve prepared you an apartment close to a school of my choice to pursue the arts as you so strongly desired,” He spoke in a mocking tone. “And I’ll let you have your way there.” He ended with a smile that sent chills down Weiss’ spine. It sounded too good to be true, her dream being accepted like this. It was like a carrot on a stick being waved in front of her, only to always be out of reach.

“What’s the catch?”

“Catch? My, Weiss, my child, are you questioning your father’s benevolent heart?”

“What’s there to question?” Weiss shot back. “You don’t have one, now do you?”

She grinned at her little victory as she watched him gnashing his teeth, clearly seething in anger. Her smile dropped however as he gave her his own.

“I mentioned Japan’s legal age before.”

And Weiss already knew what he meant.

  //-//-//-//-//

  Life in Seishou had been the dream. Her first two years of high school were the peak of her life, she’d proudly say. She had wonderful friends and comrades who battled side-by-side, pushing one another to greater heights, and… she had someone she adored just a little more than friendship allowed. She had never admitted it, though. Then, a school back in Paris, the place where her mother had blossomed as an actress in the past, offered her a scholarship as an exchange student there.

And like she always did, Claudine excelled. So much so that multiple colleges offered her full rides to attend their institutions. Even highly prestigious universities. Her opportunities were broad, her future looking bright-

-And then news came. Her mother had fallen terminally ill.

She had to go back. She had to see her. She had to be by her side as long as possible.

She had to repay her for the love, for the dream she had given Claudine. She had to be the family her mother had been for her in the absence of a biological father she never knew, and the loss of her adoptive Japanese father at an early age. The lack of a male figure in their family was no cripple to Claudine, but she also missed the presence of the man she knew as her papa. She knew her maman missed him too.

So she had to do this for her mother.

She had to… in the event that… she’d lose her soon as well.

God forbid, Claudine prayed.

She had to return to Japan, study and… get a job, find some way to help her mother pay the increasingly expensive hospital bills, their little family’s saved money steadily disappearing.

She wondered if she should just drop school all together and apply for a troupe. Earn both money and experience.

She had enough rapport both in Japan and France. She could probably get enough opportunities, and she would succeed like she always had…

But…

There was something she wanted to see through, going into university.

When she left for Paris, she had gradually lost contact with all her friends, the culture slowly choking her time, eventually disconnecting them from her.

She’d receive and return the occasional message, but… things were different. She knew she’d drifted apart from everyone.

So, when she found out that they would all be attending the same Arts Institute, and when she had decided to return to Japan for her mother’s sake, she believed it wouldn’t all be that bad if she could apply for a scholarship to the same place, and possibly rebuild everything that was slowly crumbling away.

She wanted to be with everyone again.

And though she believed herself capable of attaining what she wanted on her own, she might require a little assistance from a miracle.

…

And a miracle- could she call this monstrosity of a situation that?- came in the form of a letter that had documents that signified she was the daughter of some ‘Jacques Schnee’ currently undergoing some sort of trial, and because of this, some of the accusations led to the revelation that he was neglecting a daughter, not sending support, and now as some form of bribery and compensation or whatever, he had paid the court to shut up about it if he took responsibility for her now.

Claudine scoffed in disbelief and utter disgust.

So this was her damned biological father? Some apparently bigtime tycoon who slept around and left a woman to fight for herself while carrying his- Claudine would suppose she was now an- illegitimate child.

This… was certainly news she’d never have expected in a million years.

She laughed mirthlessly at it all.

Well, at least her financial crisis had been averted. For better or for worse… she hoped it wasn’t the latter.

One upside was that she now had a clear ticket to that university she wanted to get into, it seemed. Her ‘father’ had taken the liberty of enrolling her there coincidentally. At least he could do something right, Claudine guessed.

“Well… I suppose it’s time to pack.” She sighed falling back onto her current apartment bed, staring at the ceiling.

It wasn’t so bad, maybe. Her newfound reality.

“Japan, I’m coming home to you.”

  //-//-//-//-//

  Diana glared at the letter in her hand angrily. There, in neat script, she saw the name of the man who had caused all her misfortune.

‘Jacques Schnee.’

“I want to hate you for as long as I live…” She gripped the paper so hard, creases were forming and the agent currently assigned to her worried she’d rip it into shreds. “What is this garbage? And why am I… Why can’t I… refuse… this ugly form salvation…” She choked on her sobs, a hand sympathetically rubbing her back.

“Let’s get you ready, Miss.”

Diana nodded in agreement.

-----

All her bags now in her hand after being dropped off by the cab driver, she stared in awe at the slightly modest, but clearly high-end house.

What the hell, did her dad just get her a house?!

Regardless of its size, couldn’t he have… like… gotten her an apartment or condo, at least?

How rich was this asshole father of hers? Was money the only good thing about him? Not that even that was necessarily a good thing.

With a groaning sigh, she unlatched the gate, walking up the little pathway. There were small flowerbeds already present around the yard, and decorations were tastefully placed.

It at least looked the part of cozy.

Once she got to the door, however, angry sounds coming from inside made her question that.

-Wait. This was her house, right?

Why would sounds be…

In a panic, she unlocked the front door with the key that came with the letter, bursting through it like a mad man, blue eyes flickering about the room, shocked to see two pairs of eyes, wide and intense, staring back at her with equal surprise.

“Who…”

“Oh, this is just great!!!” One with hair as white as snow exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in clear exasperation. “Now we have another one!” She began marching around the room, palms rubbing her face aggressively and scratching through her hair. “That little fuck-“

“-Language.”

“Shut up! I don’t even know who you are, and why you were in my house when I arrived. And you say you aren’t a burglar or whatever, but what is up with your sword play? Even if you were using the curtain pole. Are you some kind of spy or assassin the corporation has sent to finally get rid of me?”

“First of all, this is my house, not yours. And you came at me with a rapier!” A silver-gold blonde replied in equal stress. “You could have killed me!”

“I would never!” The first girl gasped with faux emotion. “At most, you’d lose an ear.”

“Umm…” Diana remained awkwardly fidgeting at the door, her usual bravery and confidence lost in the moment of shock.

“What.”

“I- I am simply here because… apparently my father purchased this place for me.”

Two pairs of eyes blinked once. Twice.

Then realization overtook them.

“Did you just say… father?” The golden-haired one stepped closer to her, a lot less hostile, but still aggressive looking.

“I- Um… yes?”

“Father… you say.” The lady with a rapier in her hand now approached Diana too.

These women were frightening, dear Lord. Diana slowly backed up, but stopped as her foot hit the bags she’d dropped in her frantic moments earlier.

“Can you tell me the name of this… ‘father’ of yours?” Rapier lady asked Diana who was beginning to wonder if she should look for a weapon to defend herself with.

“S-sure. His n-name is…”

“…”

“…”

“Is?”

“Fuck.”

Diana was not one to curse, but it surprised her that she did.

But she couldn’t help it, now could she? After all, her mind had been wiped clean as a white slate. A mental block was not what she needed right now, but just about anything involving that man seemed to bring about her misfortune.

At least the hands by which she’d die her early death were from very beautiful women it seemed.

She liked women, at least?

“Excuse me, um… are you alright?” Miss Golden hair was now very safe-looking and welcoming, Diana subconsciously stepped closer towards her.

“What is up with you? I just asked a question.”

“Perhaps, if you placed the sword down, and looked less like you were trying to murder her and look like you were willing to hear her out…”

Diana expected another heated retaliation, so it was a pleasant surprise to see the other woman sheath her weapon, and place it gently on a plastic-covered couch, clearly brand new.

“There. Happy?” She asked, glaring at the woman now gently holding Diana’s hand- and when had that happened?!

With a nod, the girl turned to Diana and asked again. “What is your father’s name. If you could tell us.”

Huh. She was a lot kinder than Diana had initially taken her for.

“I apologize. I can’t… remember at the moment. I- He hasn’t been around… for me until this point. I just… learned his name a few days ago but…” She hung her head in defeat, apologizing all the while. “Sorry I’m of no assistance to you…”

“No, it’s alright. Isn’t it?” The question was clearly not directed at her as she could only hear a grunt from the other side of the room.

“Yeah, fine.”

“Would your father’s name happen to be Jacques?”

At this, Diana lifted her head, another shocker delivered to her, hearing the familiar name, the cogs in her head clicking into place.

“Yes! Yes, that’s it! Jack, or Jacques or whatever. Snee? Shuni? Schee? I don’t quite remember, but something along those lines.” Diana found herself enthusiastic towards the prospect that some of her questions might be answered.

It seemed the other two shared the same sentiment.

“It’s Schnee.” The white-haired lady corrected, eyes furrowing, anger building up once more. “And… THAT BASTARD OLD MAN!” Grabbing her rapier she swung it around, probably to vent her anger. “He set me up! And what’s more…” She whipped her head about to carefully look the other two people over.

“What is it?” Diana said in a voice quite small.

“Seems he had big secrets to hide.” She sighed. Turning to the initial enemy she had, now turned… stranger? She wasn’t sure they were allies at this point, she stated rather than asked. “I guess it’s the same for you?”

The woman beside Diana nodded, expression looking a lot stiffer than her gentle demeanor as she dealt with Diana earlier.

“I see. I can’t believe this situation.”

“What do you me-“

A voice beside Diana delivered her fourth? Fifth? Sixth?- she’d lost count- Shocker of the day.

“Sisters. It seems we’re… sisters.” Turning to Diana, she held out a hand for a shake. “I’m Claudine.”

“I’m Weiss.” Was the grumble from the couch the woman had flopped on top of.

“…O-oh!” Breaking her stare from the hand, she looked into rose-red eyes. “And I’m-“

And the world suddenly turned black.

‘Hello, My Name is…

[Diana Cavendish]

[Weiss Schnee]

[Saijou Claudine]

-And it seems as though…

I have two sisters?!

  A/N: If you’re asking, yes. Yes, Diana fainted.

Here are some details for this AU btw:

I’ve decided to make Jacques a half-Jap, half german.

So all of them have a quarter of that blood.

Diana is half brit, quarter jap, quarter german

Weiss is ¾ german because of her mom, and ¼ jap.

Claudine is half French, ¼ german, ¼ jap.

Also, if you want to know their ages, and their order, I decided it this way, and let me just quote how I typed it out in the raw idea draft.

“Diana April 30 16yro in anime 2017+3yrs (2020) she's 19 too omg jahahahaha (wrote this coz I’m currently 19 and was amused)

Clau august 1, 2001 19 at present

Weiss Currently 19 (in volumes 5-6) may 15th lmao hahsha. Perfect!!

Wtf Diana was the oldest? Hooo boi. I did expect and want Kuro to be youngest tho, tbh.”

Why their ages are pretty much the same will be mentioned next chap.

And that’s how it went. Decided with Weiss being the legitimate child coz Jacques was the only canonically mentioned dad between the three girls as far as I know. Or I just didn’t search enough.

But come on. I wouldn’t pass at the chance to beat up the dude in a fic so… hihi.

Feedback is super appreciated!

Thank you for reading!

~Shintori Khazumi

[silveryinkystar]

34 and 35 for the fanfic writer ask game!

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

From one of my WIPs for Jedi June:

“You’re willing to entertain all these theories of what the Force did,” Mace elaborated when the old Grandmaster didn’t volunteer anything else. “But you refuse to accept the possibility that you did, in fact, speak to the ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn.”

He wanted to jump to the immediate response, that ghosts didn’t exist, because no one could keep their consciousness after death, but hadn’t Mortis simply been an exercise in keeping his mind open to all possibilities?

This scene takes place right after the Mortis arc of Clone Wars, when Obi-Wan has a private meeting with Mace and Yoda as they try to help him figure out what exactly happened on that planet, since the whole arc is a massive excuse for shoving foreshadowing and symbolism at the audience (which I am 110% down for, btw. the lit major in me was screeching during those episodes)

And because my newest fic, Black Gold, was so much fun to write:

The ring itself, as Cody had expected, was simple, shaped like a wedding band from those awful romance holofilms Gregor had made him watch (that Skywalker apparently loved, according to Kenobi). Designed for functionality, as the General had said. But the material itself seemed to shift slightly in the light, the reflection of hyperspace lights shimmering, iridescent. And right in the middle, something indistinct, lighter than the rest of the ring.

“Is that…”

Kenobi smiled, and tilted the ring a little closer to the light. Right about then, Cody could distinguish the curves in the small pattern, the lines that burst out in a star-like shape…

“The crest of your Order,” he murmured, and Kenobi beamed at him.

“Indeed,” he said, slipping the ring back on, “I thought that I could represent two important parts of my identity together. The symbol is barely visible, so it’s very safe to wear on missions, even when I can’t carry my lightsaber for fear of discovery.”

“What sort of missions have you been on,” Ahsoka muttered, looking at her grandmaster with something akin to horrified awe.

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

This probably belongs on my sideblog, but I’ve been working on a HDM fic recently and the sheer indulgence that is the conversation between Lee and Marisa is incredible. It’s so interesting to dissect characters who are set up as foils, and while I normally think about Lyra and Lee as character foils, Marisa and Lee happen to be the narrative counterpart to this. The way the show brought about this duality was so interesting, and while I’ll admit that it took me a while to warm up to the s2 scene, there’s so much going on that I had to write an entire story about it continuing the conversation.

Because where Lyra and Lee parallel each other in terms of personality (and then split off in The Secret Commonwealth), Marisa and Lee have a completely unexpected common factor that they share, and Lee is instantly onto weaponising it. He recognises that while the shared background does give him some perspective about her actions, it a) doesn’t excuse anything that she’s recently done that’s heinous (such as cut away children’s souls, GODS); and b) he instantly uses it to gain an edge on her and disorient her completely. My gods, it’s incredible.

And in context of The Amber Spyglass (warning for spoilers henceforth), it makes so much sense, narratively speaking, because their origins and deaths kind of mirror each other! Marisa throws herself into the abyss for Lyra, and Lee, who is already dead, lets himself go and becomes one with the Force a part of the universe he’s just helped fix. It’s such a beautifully messy parallel, and the dynamic that they have in the show... I simply had to write the overwhelmingly sarcastic dialogue between the two of them in my fic, and that is all

Fanfic Writer Ask Meme | Inbox

[slashyrogue]

If you're still taking prompts, maybe elias and adam towers high school au? I love your writing, btw!

Thank you so much! 

Okay this has been lingering in my WIPs since 2018 because I think I meant for it to be a longer fic which it still might be but I feel bad so here’s a bit of it. 

*********

"Did you see that weird kid?"

Adam took a long drag and blew it out slowly as he chuckled. "Which one?" 

"With the fucked up face."

Adam glared at his best friend Shelby, "You're one to talk about fucked up faces, Freckles."

She laughed and he handed her the rest of his cigarette, recalling the new kid that he'd only seen in passing but heard loads about from almost everyone. 

Elias Thanatos, transfer from Denmark. 

"What about the new kid?"

Shelby grinned. "I heard he got a hundred on Lecter's last test."

Adam scoffed. "No one has ever gotten over an eighty in his class there's no way."

Turned out, there was. 

Dr. Lecter posted the scores of his last history test the next day, angrily letting Adam's class know that he was "severely disappointed" and would be having multiple tests a week in order to get them "up to grade."

Adam stared at his sixty two, littered in red marks and 'See Me' written in capitals above. 

Dr. Lecter had always scared the shit out of him even before entering his senior year. He had been dreading going up his next three grades when catching a group of seniors exiting his classroom all with red eyes and wet cheeks during Freshman year. 

"Mr. Towers."

Adam looked up and saw Dr. Lecter staring at him intently, obviously very into his response from the grade. "Dr. Lecter."

"I will be waiting."

He walked off and Adam scoffed, tossing down the test. It was hard to miss seeing Lecter lean over and pat Elias on the back, "Excellent work, Elias."

Adam leaned over and saw a bright red ninety written on Elias's test.

What the fuck?

The rest of class Adam watched the weird new kid, his intense staring while their teacher spoke almost creepy if not for the near constant squeezing of his knees together.

Adam was startled by the bell, knocking a pencil from his desk as the others all started to leave. 

Adam watched in annoyance as the pencil stopped at Elias's foot. 

"Hey."

The new kid seemed to be ignoring him or just couldn't hear, grabbing his bag as Adam stood to lean over next to him. 

Which was when he saw what had been causing Elias to squeeze his legs together all throughout class. 

"Wow."

Weird Kid was packing a monster between his legs.

Elias startled, his knee jerking into Adam's face. 

"Fuck!"

He fell back, catching himself, though his head hit the desk. 

Elias moved back fast, sputtering, "You shouldn't stare or creep up on people!"

"I wasn't, idiot! I was getting my pencil!"

Adam moved to stand just as someone held out their hand for him to take that wasn't Elias. 

"Dr. Lecter."

He took the help, standing and holding back on the desk with effort. 

"I would've preferred to make introductions in a different way, but this seems as good a time as any. Adam Towers, this is Elias Thanatos. Your new History tutor."

Adam frowned, "Him?"

"This is," Elias's voice shook, "No. I...if I had known it was him I would've said no. No, sir."

Adam scoffed, "Like you have any right to..."

"I have every right! I..."

Hands on both their shoulders stopped the argument, the two boys looking up at Dr. Lecter whose smile was so angry that Adam had sudden flashbacks to those seniors from so long ago. 

"This has already been discussed with your father, Mr. Thanatos, and your mother, Mr. Towers. The idea that your permission is in any way important here is not the case."

Adam's eyes narrowed. 

"Fine."

Elias sniffed,  looking at the floor. 

"Yes, fine."

Another pat to their shoulders before taking the hands away, "I expect you to remain tutoring until Mr. Towers has raised his scores at the very least two grades from the current record."

Adam opener his mouth to protest and Elias stepped on his foot, "Yes, sir."

Dr. Lecter stared them up down for several minutes before his phone he gestured to the door. "You're both dismissed."

Elias stood up so fast he almost fell, catching himself last minute and glaring once more at Adam over his shoulder for good measure. 

Adam didn't know what weird kid's problem was with him. It wasn't like their paths had crossed much in the few months Elias had been in Baltimore High. 

He headed out into the hall and down to his locker, spotting Elias putting away his books and seeming flustered still. 

Adam didn't know what made him stop, though the memory of the thick impressive cock Elias was hiding might've been a part of it. 

He leaned against the locker next to him, startling Elias into dropping his calculus book which Adam picked up to hand over. "So after school, mine or yours?" 

Elias was blushing almost as red as Adam's sneakers when he took the book, not meeting his eyes. "This is all your fault, so you should be the one to come to my home."

Adam smiled, "Okay, Curly," he patted Elias's shoulder, "I'll wait for you by the big dying oak out front."

Elias slammed his locker hard, "You had better be, I won't wait for you."

Adam laughed as he saw Elias's back, turning to head for Mr. Graham's Biology class. 

Biology with Mr. Graham was always one of Adam's favorite classes if only to listen to him wax poetic on the human body. 

He headed inside right for Shelby, leaning in and accusing, "I think you cursed me thanks a bloody lot."

She frowned, "What are you on about?" 

"Weird kid is my new tutor," he shook his head with a sigh, "Lecter says I gotta get up two fuck..."

The bell rang and Mr. Graham came inside, glaring at the books in his hands though Adam thought there was a strange blush to his cheeks. 

"All right. Everyone let's get started, I hope you all did the reading."

Adam hadn't, but Shelby did, hurriedly letting him copy her notes while Mr. Graham droned on about the human body before announcing a test. 

He'd never been much of a test taker, though he knew an awful lot about the human body. 

They were given free time after finishing, Adam passing notes to Shelby in the meantime. 

I can't believe you're stuck with that weirdo. Are you going to his house?

I couldn't miss seeing where someone like Thanatos lives! I'll text you pictures while I'm there :P

Shelby snickered, and they started on about how hot Mr. Graham looked in those chinos he had on today, Adam wiggling his brows just as the bell seemed to come out of nowhere. 

"Time's up! Make sure to read chapter seven tonight!" 

Adam headed off towards Calculus and knew he'd see Shelby at lunch, content to spend the rest of the morning trying to figure a way out of this tutor thing. 

Adam didn't expect to see Elias again till the end of the day but couldn't help but notice when he ran into the boys' bathroom. 

He debated with himself whether or not to follow, Mr. Stammets was a stickler for tardiness, but did anyway. 

The room was emptying out as the bell rang, Adam noticed Elias's shoes in the furthest stall. 

"You ok, Curly?"

Huffed breath answered and Adam went into the stall beside him. He heard what sounded like Elias on the verge of tears, resisted the urge to climb up to peek over the stall edge. 

"Curly?"

"That's not," Elias huffed, "My name."

Adam climbed up and was more than surprised to see Elias was jerking off. He felt his own cock twitch seeing the monster between Elias's legs, imagined the feel of him and couldn't resist the gasp when he heard Elias moan. 

Elias let go and looked up, the angry red of his cheeks was almost cute much to Adam's dismay. 

"YOU SHOULDN’T SPY ON PEOPLE!"

He moved to fix himself away and Adam left his stall, cursed as Elias fought to get passed him when he left. 

"I'm not making fun of you."

Elias's eyes were wet, cheeks still red, and Adam pushed him back inside. He ignored his protests and forced Elias onto the toilet. 

"You do this a lot?"

"That's not your..."

Adam knelt at his open legs, stared up at him and repeated, "You do this a lot?"

Elias's blush from jerking off deepened and his lip trembled as he answered. 

"It hurts if I don't."

Adam couldn't imagine carrying that monster between his legs and also dealing with super sized urges.

"I can help?"

"We're late for class."

He took Elias's cock in hand and watched him shudder, "Stammets will kill me either way," he stroked and watched Elias bite his lip to keep quiet, "I don't know what class you're..."

Elias jerked his hips up and closed his eyes, "English with Miss Bloom."

Adam knelt up and resisted the urge to suck, despite knowing Elias was more than likely a virgin. He wasn't new to any form of sex obviously, hadn’t been for almost two years now, but he was new to this whole need to please. Adam did want to, he realized. 

He wanted to make this fantastically pleasurable for Elias Thanatos. 

They didn’t have much time but he didn't rush as he slow stroked his spit slicked hand up and down the monster cock. Elias’s breath hitched as he stared at Adam, eyes shone with tears, and when he came perfect lines of wet slid down his cheeks. Adam wiped him off and teased a lick just to see the reaction. 

“Oh!” Elias gasped before he shuddered. 

Adam patted his leg. “Good?”

“Very good,” Elias mumbled, “it's never felt good before.”

Adam stood up to climb into his lap, wrapped his arms around Elias’s neck, and smiled. “Then you’ve been doing it wrong, Curly.”

Elias sniffled. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Oh I’m not, don’t worry.”

“Yes you—“

Adam kissed him soft, a tease of lips that both startled and caused more protest before Elias fell into it. He rocked his own half hard cock against Elias as they continued, thoughts of that monster inside him running through his mind.

He’d teach Elias how to fuck him properly, coach the big weird virgin till he could use him as he pleased. 

If anything it would make tutoring a lot more fun. 

When they pulled apart Adam smiled at Elias’s closed eyes. 

“All right, Elias?”

He blinked his eyes open and turned slightly pink. “I was just resting my eyes. That was...pleasant as well. Now is it time for me to,” he felt Elias’s fingers touch his crotch but stopped him. 

“Later, Curly. I think it’s—“

The bell rang and they both cursed, righting themselves as Adam stood. 

He stepped out of the stall and looked in the mirror. His lips looked swollen but otherwise he didn’t notice anything else. 

“Since we’re both already late,” he said, turning to see Elias buttoning up his pants, “How about I show you how to make it pleasant for me?” 

Adam grinned when Elias’s eyes looked down, then up again, blushing. 

“I’m going to miss class, I….” 

He stalked toward him, his cock still hard in his jeans, and herded Elias back up into the stall they’d just left. 

“What sounds like more fun, Curly? Class or my ass?” 

Elias’s hands came right to Adam’s jeans and he smiled. 

This was almost too easy. 

He couldn’t wait to start tutoring. 

[tibbinswrites]

Hi x could you do #327 for canon destiel please? Btw I love your work, you wright so eloquently x

You’re so sweet! Thank you! Sorry it’s taken me so long. I wasn’t sure what to do for this one, but then I was re-organising my fanfic folder and came across a wip that I’d started ages ago but never got around to making something out of it. And with a little tweaking, seemed to fit the prompt pretty well :D I hope you like it.

I’ve now done prompts for: #1, #2, #4 and #16, #9, #10, #20, #33, #77, #78, #170 (part 1), (part 2), #327 and #502 and I’ve got a possible part 3 of #170 pending. I’m not accepting any more prompts at the moment.

Also, just in case you hadn’t heard already, I’m part of an incredible destiel anthology. Our indegogo page is live here and there are tiers ranging from simply gorgeous PDF copies and all the podfics to beautiful print books and a bunch of other merch like bookmarks and art prints. We’re at an amazing 78% funded already! Check it out.

Warning for mentions of torture (hell flashback)

Enjoy ^_^

Prompt 327: “I could hear you… breathing.”

Dean woke gasping, sweat-soaked and tangled in his sheets. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was, a few more for his eyes to adjust to the near-black, and almost a full minute after that for the thumping of his heart to slow and his breathing to calm.

Just a nightmare.

He was used to waking up like this, but the Déjà vu didn’t make it any easier. Sure, he could joke about it in the daylight, be cavalier or even talk seriously about the fact that his nightmares were a regular occurrence if there was a need, but in the dark, with his dream still blurring the edges of his vision, it was impossible to be anything other than afraid.

When the fear faded as the familiar shapes of his room began to emerge from the gloom, he was left with an even more familiar frustration. He hated that Alastair still had sway over him. The demon had been dead for over ten years but his skin still rippled with cold dread whenever his mind wandered in that particular downwards direction. In some ways Dean had never left Hell, in some ways, Alastair had won and even after all these years, that rankled on him in a way that few things did.

He tried to kick off the sheets but on discovering that they’d wrapped around his ankle had to reach down and yank them from him with his hands, grumbling at the extra inconvenience. He stripped the bed without needing to turn on the light, this was a common enough occurrence that he had the process down. Bare duvet and pillows in one pile, gross bottom sheet, pillow cases and duvet cover in another. According to his blinking alarm clock it was almost five am anyway, he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight. He braced himself and then switched on his bedside lamp, sucking in a breath through his teeth as the too-bright, too-sudden light stabbed into his retinas, ruining his night vision. He squinted for a few moments until he could blink without it feeling like the beginnings of a headache and then set about re-making the bed with fresh sheets, tucking in the corners military-tight, fluffing the pillows before placing them perfectly. When he was done, his bed looked like it had never been slept in.

He dropped the soiled sheets into his hamper and then headed to shower; his skin was oily with drying sweat and as it cooled it only made him shiver, the kind of shaky that travelled through muscles and up into the head, that wouldn’t go away unless he scrubbed off all evidence that anything was wrong.

Once in the bathroom he yanked off his clothes, left them in a damp pile by the door and twisted the shower knob on.

The spray was icy when it when hit him but warmed quickly and soon it was at that perfect temperature just over the line of scalding. He stopped shivering and let the water relax him, making sure to jerk his brain back if it threatened to wander to the reason he was taking a shower at five in the morning, to the clammy hands he still felt the imprints of, the nasal voice, those cold eyes alight with malice, delight at his pain, that face he will never forget.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, his stomach twisting unpleasantly, and almost choked on water.

“Are you thirsty, Dean?” Alastair taunted, holding his head under a spray of liquid. And Dean was, he was parched, he hadn’t had anything to drink in more than twenty years and Hell never let him forget it. So he opened his mouth, because that was the game, and the water burned like acid.

Dean yanked his head back from the spray, spluttering, choking, burning. And it didn’t matter that he knew he was safe, that the water was only not, not actually painful, that he was in the bunker and Sam was just down the hall, he stumbled from the shower, naked and dripping and definitely not clean yet, to hunch over the toilet bowl and retch until his stomach was empty. Of course the acid in his throat didn’t help that particular memory to face but once he was done he felt better. The remainder of his shower was embarrassingly rushed and tepid and he stepped out, rubbed himself with a towel and tried not to think. He brushed his teeth with a little more force than necessary and gargled some mouthwash, all the while avoiding his reflection in the mirror. When he left the bathroom he dressed quickly. There was no point hanging around his room. Staring blankly at a wall wouldn’t exactly help the shadows retreat.

He opened the door to find Cas leaning against the wall opposite. He straightened when he saw Dean, and Dean was tempted to just close the door again. Instead he sighed and stepped out into the chilly hallway.

“Let me guess,” Dean said, trying to hide the tremble in his voice. “Just passing by?”

“No.” Cas said, as blunt as ever. “I felt your distress.”

Well that was embarrassing. He rubbed at the back of his neck before folding his arms. It had been a long time since he’d had a nightmare that bad.

“So you thought you’d just… hang out here?”

“I could hear you… breathing,” Cas said with a slight cough that translated ‘breathing’ into ‘violently throwing up’. “I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

“You wouldn’t’ve been,” was Dean’s immediate response, though some of the unease in his gut had lessened. Seeing Cas there calmed him, and Alastair’s voice retreated back to the box it usually lived in.

Cas nodded like he expected as much. “I figured you were still in my radius nonetheless.”

“Your… what?”

Cas’ lips jumped up at the edges a little, the way they did when Dean showed his ignorance about angels, despite living with one. Dean was still too raw from his nightmare to get pissy about it. It was nice just to see Cas smile.

“My radius. All angels have a—I suppose you could say—calming presence.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, mouth curling into a smirk of his own. “Bullshit.”

Cas shrugged. “It’s mostly only effective on the unconscious,” he paused, fighting another smile, “or the weak-willed.”

“Hey!”

Cas’ laugh was soft, only barely hitting the tiles so it wrapped around the two of them but went no further. Suddenly, Dean felt a little less cold. “Humans tend not to have room for it when they’re awake. Your minds are always so busy that an outside influence is easily disregarded.”

“You sayin’ I don’t have much goin’ on upstairs?” Dean asked, trying to sound offended but knew that the smile on his face was giving him away. God, how could he feel anything other than fond with Cas standing there all straight lines and strong shoulders, his eyes gentle as sunrise? Maybe Cas was right, with Cas taking up more than half his senses, there was just no room left for the fear stuck to him. He felt it slide off and for once, didn’t worry about it coming back.

“No. I’m saying that if it works—if it’s working now—it’s because you’re letting it, because trust me.”

Dean stepped forward, and didn’t think about it too much when he stepped in close and let his hands curve around Cas’ waist to rest at the base of his spine. He dropped his head to rest it in the crook of Cas’ neck and breathed deeply.

“Well that’s true enough,” he murmured.

If Cas was surprised, he didn’t show it. His own arms came up to hold Dean tight and they just stood there. There was no expectation in the embrace, though perhaps there should have been. Nor were there nerves, though there definitely should have been. It was just… easy, in the way that things between them never were. It was comfort and accepting comfort and Dean felt that this moment, while it might not change anything between them, was important. That maybe it wasn’t anything between them that needed to change, but something inside Dean that just had.

And while he wasn’t quite ready to delve head first into it yet, with his bare feet on the icy tile, Cas’ warmth and scent and feeling of home surrounding the rest of him, the remnants of a nightmare trickling from his bloodstream, Dean was pretty sure that Cas wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

[b-rainlet]

i really loved reading what you wrote about allison and luther so how about alluther again for the new ship q&a? :D

This is years late but I just wanted to give y’all some sweet hcs while I am battling this monster of a Luego WiP!

Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa

Okay have you seen Luther? Luther tries to dance and accidentally wrecks havoc across his room (which is very relatable) while Allison is a Queen who is able to flawlessly fight in heels. 

Luther will try to be a gentleman and open the door for Allison in this one fancy restaurant he invited her to on their first serious Date - because she is a movie star, she’s probably used to expensive food and champagne and guys who can talk about politics instead of scared boys who still write poetry - but he’s so fucking nervous, he pulls the door when he should push. 

And normally that would be a little hiccup for an otherwise perfect night but not with Luther. Luther accidentally pulls the door and tears it straight out of the frame. 

“Uhhh…, sorry?”

(They don’t eat at the restaurant. He isn’t allowed to set foot there anymore. He also has to pay for a new door).

(Luther is terribly sorry he ruined the night but Allison is to busy doubling over laughing to say anything).

(They eat at home, pizza and leftover pasta from dinner. Allison drinks beer instead of champagne and laughs some more when Luther spills juice on his shirt).

(Allison also thanks him for such a nice Date before kissing him, hands on his face, so maybe it wasn’t ruined after all). 

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them

Both! Have you seen them as kids, making love eyes at each other over dinner? You can bet that both of them have a bunch of notebooks that are just full of ‘A+L’ or ‘A.H. + L.H. = Hearts’ 

Allison has an old doodle she made as a kid of them on their wedding day and she couldn’t bring herself to throw it away. 

She shows it to Luther once, joking how hopelessly in love she was as a child, how childish!

And Luther looks at her for a long moment, all serious, before getting up and fishing something from under his bed. 

A box.

A box full of poems. 

More precisely, a box full of poems about Allison, some from back when they were 13 and some from only a month ago. 

Luther refuses to read them out loud - face all pink and biting his lower lip - but Allison trades them for the picture she drew. 

Once they live together, the picture somehow ends up on the fridge, along with some of Allison’s favourite poems. 

They don’t talk about it but both smile every time they enter the kitchen. 

Who starts the tickle fights

Luther!

Allison is a ticklish little thing and Luther has used that to his advantage since they were kids. 

(All of them used that to their advantage, especially Klaus who liked to raid Allison’s room for nail polish and skirts). 

And ever since she was kid, Allison had hated it. 

Which is only normal, who enjoys having hands all over their body, tickling her sides?

So Luther doesn’t do it often. 

But sometimes…..

Sometimes when Allison is in a bad mood, he knows he just needs to trail his finger over the underside of her foot and she’ll be a giggling mess. 

“C’mon, cheer up a little? For me?” - “No.”

“Well, okay then.” *starts to wiggle his fingers under Allison’s shirt, scratching his nails over her stomach* Allison, immediately giggling: “Stop iiiiiit.”

“If you give me a smile.” Allison: *trying her best to smile while also trying to wiggle away from Luther’s gentle touches* “And a kiss.”

(Maybe, if Allison is honest with herself, she doesn’t hate being tickled as much when it’s Luther doing it, less because he likes how she squeals, but more because he’s earnestly trying to stop her from being moody).

(And maybe Luther touching her simply isn’t the same level of awful as anyone else touching her). 

(Maybe she likes being tickled when it’s big hands doing the tickling, touching her as gently as possible despite their size). 

Who starts the pillow fights

Allison!

They rarely have pillow fights because Luther is afraid he’ll get carried away

(And do you have any idea how awful that was as a child? He once hit Klaus with a pillow hard enough he got thrown against the opposite wall and had a concussion. Luther rarely participated in any ‘rowdy’ games after that). 

But sometimes, Allison will throw a pillow at him when she wants him to pay attention to her or when she’s too lazy to move and tries to sweet talk him into getting something so she doesn’t have to stand up. 

And Luther will throw the pillow back - gently - and they’ll just try to hit each other with pillows and blankets and shirts and whatever else that’s soft enough to be flung at each other. 

They rarely do the typical ‘jumping around on the bed, hitting each other with pillows’ though, because Luther jumping on a bed? You want the bed to survive a few years, right?

He used to be more bummed about this kinda stuff as a kid anyway, no need to be sad about it as an adult. Allison still tries to get him to play wrestle with her a little, tries to pin him to the bed or just slumps down on top of him like they’re still 13. It’s cute. 

(It also leads to kissing 90% of the time now, so Luther is good). 

As teeny tiny children, Allison felt bad for Luther not being able to play with their brothers without accidentally breaking their bones, so they always played together. Baby Alluther playing house together, colouring pictures, telling each other fantasy stories and going on made up quests…...Luther would’ve followed Allison anywhere. 

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile

Depends on who falls asleep first, lmao. In a world where Skype exists, they probably facetime each other whenever Allison can’t be home, murmuring things back and forth already half asleep. And sometimes, one of them will actually fall asleep, softly snore as the other either keeps talking to them (Luther) or softly sings for them (Allison). 

They never end the calls, btw, they just watch the other sleep, peaceful expression on their face before slowly falling asleep themselves, dreaming about being able to reach out and touch. 

Who mistakes salt for sugar

This is something that could happen to both of them. Like, maybe they’re at a diner and Luther accidentally salts his pancakes so Allison feeds him bits of hers, or Allison is cooking at the mansion and after all those years she isn’t sure about which shaker contains what anymore and just grabs the one she thinks has the sugar in it. 

Although Allison would probably be thoughtful enough to check which is which first, whereas Luther lives a dangerous life. 

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning

Luther. He tries to prevent it but he’s sluggish and slow when he’s tired so he never manages to. 

Allison rarely wakes up from it though, which Luther is very grateful for because he feels a little bit embarrassed about his nightly food cravings. 

(He eats...weird stuff at night. A lot of it covered with melted cheese, whether cheese should be on that dish or not. Allison stops commenting on it once she figures out how guilty Luther feels for it). 

She does try to get him to talk about things instead of stuffing his feelings with food but it’s a long journey. 

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines

Allison!

Allison likes to make Luther blush by stepping next to him and saying things like “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?” even though they’re only standing in the living room. 

Luther tries to retaliate by coming up with his own pick up lines but he spectacularly fails each time. 

“Are you from Tennessee? Because I got lost in your eyes.”

Allison thinks it’s cute though, so that’s alright. 

(Diego’s the one who tells him all the pick up lines and face palms when he gets them wrong. And then mentally yells when Allison still kisses Luther and proclaims herself ‘swooned’ because HOW?

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order

Luther. 

Allison doesn’t mind but Luther gets really peculiar about where certain books should be. 

He has different shelves for crime novels, for romance stuff and for books that have multiple installments (“Because they belong together, Allison!”). 

He also gets upset when Allison sets down a book upside down because that’s not good for the back of the book and in Luther’s words “It hurts the books.”

Also, Luther is the kinda person who tries his hardest not to dog-ear paperbacks, not holding them open too wildly so there aren’t any crinkles on the back. 

He got Allison rainbow coloured bookmarks for Christmas because Allison is the kinda person to just use whatever as a bookmark - even another book. 

(Allison also writes into books, highlights her favourite paragraphs or just scribbles down her thoughts on something next to the dialogue. Luther kinda hates it but sometimes he’ll turn a page and just see Allison’s elegant handwriting, spelling out “I love you!” or “Hey Handsome ;)” and he can’t help but smile. 

(Sometimes he goes to Allison and tries his best to burrow into her lap without crushing her when he finds a note like that. Allison kisses his forehead and makes space for him on the couch). 

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies

Luther!

Luther is a little boy who just so happens to be 6’5 (Fun Fact! I did not make that up, Tom Hopper actually is that tall). 

So he’ll help Allison and Grace bake and hope he gets the empty bowl with the leftover cookie batter. 

He has to fight Diego over it though. And most of the time Five gets it anyway, simply because they can dial up the puppy eyes whenever they want to). 

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion

Luther!

He is a big sappy romantic who buys flowers for his beloved whenever he walks past a flower shop or he sees some pretty ones outside and he absolutely won’t have dinner without lighting candles. Especially when he’s the one doing the cooking (which he does a lot simply because Allison is a very busy woman and Luther likes providing for her). 

He also prepares bubbles baths for Allison with loads of candles and scented bath bombs and stuff and they don’t fit into the bathtub together, but Allison talks him into at least dipping his feet in too. 

And more often than not, Luther will rub over Allison’s back and wash her hair while Allison idly plays with her hands or tries to get her hands on Luther’s arms or his face. 

(Allison is grabby and Luther enjoys that but not when he’s trying to wash her hair). 

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen

Allison!

Allison isn’t a big artist but she likes doodling, especially when she’s stressed. And Luther never complains when she draws a little heart on his arm or his cheek. 

And it’s also a nice way of being intimate? Allison holding one of Luther’s hands with her own, his arm gently laying on her thighs as she leans over and draws on it, her hair tickling him when she moves. 

Luther actually considers getting some of her drawings done as tattoos but Allison always shakes her head, claims they’re silly little things. 

Luther loves them either way. 

(Sometimes Allison writes her name on Luther’s wrists and Luther’s name on hers. Pretends they’re in one of her romance novels, the ones she read as a pre-teen, daydreaming about Luther being her soulmate. Still does apparently. 

Luther kisses his arm when she does it, kisses her name on it and then his name on hers). 

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation

Allison!

She’s the one who comes around loads, be it because she’s going on vacation with Claire or because she’s on a promo tour for her upcoming movie. 

Luther….feels better just staying home. Safer. 

Allison doesn’t push him but she does remind him that he’s always welcome to join her. Luther nods everytime, puts the magnet on the - slowly overflowing - fridge, but never takes her up on the offer. 

They have time. 

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines

Luther!

Luther does every single survey he can. What kinda boyfriend is he? Does he fall for bad boys too easily? Is he trapped in a loveless relationship? What Hogwarts House does he have? What kinda Girl is he? 

He does them all. And he always shares his results with Allison very excitedly. 

Allison humours him by doing the surveys with him but she isn’t as obsessed. 

(She also doesn’t believe in astrology and horoscopes, not the way Luther does, but she still checks his horoscope daily and send him those ‘The signs as…’ posts).

She thinks they’re doing quite well, no matter what the survey results are. 

[avenger-nerd-mom]

WIP tag game

I’ve been tagged by @jaywrites101. Thanks for the tag, I really appreciate it!

1: When starting something new, how much do you know about the story before you start writing?

I am a pantser. I usually start from just a verbal exchange I hear in my head. It might be something that would be halfway through the story, and then I have to figure out what to write to get to that point.

2: What draws you to your WIP(s)? Why did you choose to write that/those over anything else?

In general, I try to write what I want to read. And if I have to keep reading “plus size” stories where the OFC is a size 12, I might scream.

3: Favorite writing spot? Why?

On the far left of the couch, with my feet propped up on the coffee table. Usually with my cat laying OVER my wrist, making it difficult to type and use the computer mouse.

4: Share your favorite line of what you’ve written so far!

This is a sneak peek at my unnamed WIP, a novel based on my fanfction stories for Sunshine.

“Sunshine, when you got up from the table, all heads turned to watch you.” Nate makes a tsking sound when she scoffs at his words. “Not for the reason you think, babe…. The sway of your hips? Drives a man crazy… The front view; the bounce? The deep cleavage? A man wants to get lost in there for days. You’re everything those women aren’t and they were jealous.”

“You sweet man.  I love that you are so blind, but they said everything I think.”

“Then tell yourself to ‘shut up.’” He cracks. “I see an amazing, talented, funny, charismatic business woman, with great taste in fashion and men.” Nate smiles, pointing at himself. “Trust me. I don’t make up stories; I just retell them on television. You’ve known me for months. Do I waste my time on things that aren’t worth it?”

5: If you had to choose one OC to bring to life as an actual person, which one would it be and why?

Out of all my OC’s?? Oh boy, that’s… a question…

I really… I really can’t answer that. I love all my girls. How about a dinner where I can sit and bullshit with them all for three hours?!

6: Are you looking to get published? If so, do you hope to make it a career?

I’m already published and a best-selling author on Amazon! I’ve been working on a story to take the character Sunshine out of fan fiction, and finish her book. I love my career. I work with kids every day, and it’s great. As an actual career? I don’t know that I have the drive to devote every day to writing. I went through a dry spell where it killed me to write. If I had to depend on my writing to eat, I don’t know if I could deal with that pressure.

7: What’s something you’d read but you’d never write? (Or the other way around?) Any reason?

I try to read a lot of different things. Fan fiction allows me the chance to read new genres. And considering I once said I could never write smut and to know where I am now? I’m never gonna say never...

8: What’s something you’re most proud of about your work so far?

I’m a published author! My novel Chasing Winter was a best seller last fall in the holiday romance category! I’m really proud of that story because it’s so real to me, actually based on some real events in my life.

9: Badly describe your WIP(s) in one sentence.

All WIPs: There will be laughs at inappropriate times, good sex and cheesecake.

10: Why did you want to be a writer?

My author blurb pretty much says it all. I would steal my mother’s romance books or watch a sappy love story on THAT channel, and think “I can do that!” I’m all about proving myself RIGHT, so I did it! I didn’t get here alone. I owe a great thanks to @thewife101 and @devikafernando for always pushing me to keep writing, (BTW girls, TAG- now it’s your turn to answer these questions!) and to my amazing beta @deathbyukmen. She makes every story better. And to @fay-1994, who is such a loyal reader! I couldn’t be doing it without their support.

[peachyjie]

A Cup Of What? || Huang Justin

A/N : writing this whilst drinking coffee, if you are wondering. I got so into it, I kinda forgot I was suppose to post this an hour ago.

Requested : No (ask box is open btw, and my WIP is dry af)

Pairing : Huang Justin - Reader

Genre : fluff + flustered Justin *which is cute*

Summary : A warm cup of coffee can change a lot, especially for a flustered baby.

————•————

Justin hummed in adoration, he stared at you from across of the room. Quanzhe could feel his stare penetrating flowers all over him.

You may not noticed, too engrosed styling Zhengting’s hair that is not so coorperative today.

“Ge, she’s so pretty”, he sighed one more time. Chengcheng stared at the younger, his eyes judging him.

Justin Huang, or Huang MingHao is officially in love with you. Believe it or not, his interest got the best of him the moment one of the senior stylist brought you in, introducing you to everyone as the new girl that’s joining the team.

So officially, Justin had been interested in you for 3 months. At first it was small glances, curious glances.

He would study you a little, taking your features. You’re stil considered young to be considered a professional stylist. But your work speaks otherwise.

You have a passion for fashion and art, and what better way on combining it? That’s right, a stylist.

You always love the feeling of making people feel beautiful, and you always love painting them. You love making transformation, big or small.

And Justin admired you for that. Despite having a big talent, you always shy away and stay humble. Saying your work still needs improvement.

He kept staring at you as you sprayed some hair spray on Zhengting’s hair. Mumbling to yourself how annoying his hair is, not wanting to stay in place.

Chencheng stared at the younger and sighed. “If you like her that much, why don’t you ask her out?”

And boy, Chengcheng had never seen such red face on anyone in his life before.

Justin Huang was blusing.

Hard

Quanzhe just shakes his head and continued reading his book. “Stop it, ge! That’s like you’re asking me to marry your sister!”, Justin replied, hissing at Chengcheng.

Which earns a smack from Chengcheng.

Justin yelped too loud making head turns, making Zhengting’s turn, which made you turn to stare at him.

When he caught your stare, he swore he could explode into millions of stardusts. Why is your eyes so mesmerizing and so beautiful, its killing him.

His daze didn’t last long before Zhengting’s inner Mom came out of him, barking at Chengcheng and Justin. Surprising all of you.

“Be nice!”, Zhengting whipped his head to you and smiled. “Am i done?”, you laughed. Justin swore he thinks he is hearing angels singing.

“Not yet, Ting. Your hair won’t stay in place”, you said proceeding to take a comb and hairspray. “Maybe it’s hungry!”, Zhengting said out of sense.

You laughed harder. “Ting, that doesn’t make any sense.”, making him pout. “But i am hungry”, he sulked. You smiled softly, being around the same age with them got you easier to talk and joke around with them.

“How bout, you go eat and let someone take your place?”, you didn’t have to wait long. Because the moment Zhengting stood up, you saw Justin being thrown by Chengcheng to your station.

You jumped a little, while Justin is still in his daze registering how he teleported. “You came in fast, Minghao”, you smiled at the younger one.

He snaps his gaze to you and laugh awkwardly. You didn’t waste any more time and started your work.

He became all soft noticing how you always call him using his real name instead of his stage name. He once asked why, and you plainly said-

“It’s a nice name, why should you hide it?”

Aside of his favorite time on stage, this was his favorite moment. He always managed to get himself all polished with you, only you. No one else.

You

He felt familiar with your touches, and it put his heart on ease. And this is the only time where he can be so close to you with an important reason.

“You’re getting really popular these days”, you tried starting a converstation with him. He almost jumped when you spoke.

“Y-yea, it’s nerve-wrecking”, you hummed as you applied lip coloring on him.

Which mean you’re being in a really close proximity with him

Which mean Justin had to keep himself from having a nosebleed heartattack by your beauty

“I’m gonna start on your hair now”, Justin didn’t realized he was holding his breath. He took a big breath and huffed away. Nodding vigorously.

You giggled a little. “Any request?”, you ask him. Staring at him from the mirror, you wait.

Justin being a flustered baby, he blurted out without thinking”

“You”

This catched you off guard. You stared at him wide eyed. Justin was a mess, he’s screaming internallyvat how dumb can he get. Figuring out how to fix the situation.

“Hey, Y/N”, you saw Zhengting calling. He held up a cup of coffee. You smiled in gratefulness, finally being able to get a dose of caffeine.

“Thank you, Zhengting”, you said as you walked to his side. Justin was still thinking how to make the conversation less awkward, not noticing you slipping away.

You were about to take the coffee from Zhengting, before the tall guy tripped. Stumbling and grip loosen on the cup

It happened too fast.

You were about to catch the cup, but it was already too late anyways. The cap is open, liquid spilling out.

A gasp came out of your lips, everyone in the room soon panicked.

Justin, Huang Justin. The contestant of Idol Producer who managed to steal all hearts from young to older woman to vote for him. That talented kid who can dance and rap was now done for.

Justin didn’t know what happened.

But

Justin felt like being slapped by liquid, warm liquid. He broke his trance. Justin stared at himself. Horror masking his face.

Then he screams

If there is a top 3 screaming contest in Yuehua, you would gladly nominate Justin. Because right now his scream is between a state of a dying dolphin and a choked crow.

It was a mess, a big mess

Taking responsibility, you grab his hand and drags him to the changing room. Justin was too busy freaking out to notice he is being held by you.

Zhengting whipped his head staring down at the culprit, he glared at Chengcheng. Chengcheng just took his outstretched leg back and stare at his mother. Acting confusion.

“Wopsie?”, Chengcheng fake shrugs, earning a loud smack from Zhengting.

“Not the face, Ge!!! NOT THE FACE!!”

You grabbed a towel and quickly drys Justin, you didn’t mind your work going to waste. It doesn’t matter right now

“Are you hurt?”, you checks every side of his face for any burn. Justin noticing the situation, blushed.

You noticing his red face, grew more worried. “Did you burn yourself?! Oh god, we need to go to get you checked and-“

“No!”, Justin yelled making you cringed. He clears his throat awkwardly. “It’s okay, I’m okay”, he said still trying to recover himself from his blushing state

“Are you sure?”, still unsure. Justin took a deep breath. “Yes, I am sure”, Justin choked.

“I am far than okay, especially after you already helped me dry myself. I am completely okay, the coffee wasn’t even that hot! Hell, its not even as hot as you-“, Justin stared at himself in horror

You wide eyed stared at him back, shocked. “I am so screwed”, Justin cursed himself kneeling, flustered

“Minghao?”, Justin stared at you. “Want to talk about what’s in your mind?”

Justin stared at you, uncertain written in his eyes. “I won’t run, Hao. I promise”, you reassured

“I-“, he choked out before he stops. He sighs, clearing his throat.

“I like you, a lot. And I know it’s been only like 3 months that you came, but I am sincere. I like you a lot, and I realized how dumb I can get until I was a flustered mess. Gosh, you probably won’t date such a dork, I’ll just-“

“Minghao”, you snaps him out of his rambles. You laughed a little. “Relax, you were rapping and it’s not even recorded yet”, you tried to joke.

Justin blushed more, feeling embarrassed. You cleared your throat, gaining his attention again.

“You know, this is such a worst timing for you to confess”, you started.

Justin swore he heard his heart breaks a little. Is this it? Rejection right in spot? Can he run away and never come back? Can he-

“Yea, you’re right”, he said dejected. You smiled.

“No, you dork. I meant, we need to get yourself polished. You’re a mess right now, what would your fans do if you go on stage like this?”, you gestures his state

Justin processing the situation, registering what you meant. He smiled.

“You mean, you’re not rejecting me?!”

“Why would I?”, you opened the door. “Come one, Minghao. After the show, let’s get some coffee and talk about it”, you smiled

Justin all giddy and mushed could only nod. You should know how happy he is. This is the best day of his life. He got his girl.

And all that was sacrificed was a cup of coffee

[almaasi]

H E Y!!!!! You're really nice THANK YOU ELMIE!

YEAH WELL??? YOU’RE AMAZING!!!! SO THERE!!!

no but in all seriousness i struggle to read fics by other people so much but then you posted Partnered

and i liked it BECAUSE: *ahem*

easy to read

FUN to read

full of tropes i like (hello bed sharing, fake marriage, and accidental usage of cover-story term of endearment when nobody’s around)

not too many kudos yet ‘cause it’s brand new (so i’m not tempted to be overwhelmed by 5000 of them and read every word trying to figure out what the hell the secret is and worry about accidentally copying you next time i write something (i’m aware this is my bullshit brain but it’s still a thing that happens))

good length (28k was long enough to last me a couple of hours but not eat up my entire day & night)

it had a plot!! a simple one but interesting enough that i was like OOOH WHAT’S GOING ON

no porn but still intimate in other ways that made my heart happy

DONNA AND JODY AS A COUPLE

it like........did all the things. the good fanfic things. the recognisable tropey setup, the ooh new house thing, the we’re not friends any more but i secretly love you and haven’t realised it yet thing, the bit where the misunderstanding is no longer a valid reason to hate each other, the KISS AT THE END HOOOOOO I WAS VERY PLEASED

yeah this was a spectacular fic and reading it was a great use of my time c:

i told my family about this fic while we ate dinner. i told them about how cas tried to fan a burning pan instead of the smoke alarm. and i told them about the burnt unflavoured fish. (which, btw, i am a fan of. dean’s suggestion of butter sounded good though)

i’ve read a handful of other fics by you in the past, and i’ve spent the last couple hours attempting to look through your catalogue by word length (avoiding the WIPs because noooope), but genuinely think this is maybe the best thing you’ve written (in my personal opinion, having tried to read the super popular one and not enjoying it anywhere near as much??) and i’m really proud of you

and like

if i could ask any fic writer in the world to co-author something with me, somebody who i’d potentially trust myself to not screw up with, it would be you ;~;

(tangent below: writer problems)

for sOOO long i’ve wanted to write a case fic like Partnered. i keep having ideas but i get weighed down by the details, and the setting descriptions, and the background characters. reading Partnered felt like a flashback to when i first started reading destiel fics back in... probably 2010? this fic was classic and classy, and to the point, and still had enough substance to it that i felt satisfied by reading it.

something i found interesting in this fic was how a couple of receptionists just... didn’t have any description at all. i recall a ‘she’ pronoun and several professional smiles, but she wasn’t a character, the way people in real life are just neutral NPCs sometimes?? and all the secondary canon characters had basically no physical features, just a voice and some actions. even dean and cas weren’t really described. i dunno, i find myself physically incapable of writing like that. when i do read other people’s work i’m always marvelling at how they just..... don’t describe every freaking thing the way i do. if i don’t describe stuff i’m like BUT HOW DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT I’M IMAGINING, always forgetting that everyone’s brain is clever and fills in a blank space with a memory in their own brain. and people already know what canon characters look like.

anyway, yes, that’s how you managed to fit a whole plot into 28k. and literally, since day one of me being a writer, i have not been able to do this. i mean, Angelhawke?? 400k? first attempt??? i was 15k in before i realised i hadn’t even started the story yet.

tl;dr -- i admire your ability to be concise and still maintain a complete story structure and character arcs, which i can’t do yet (CASE IN POINT: THIS REPLY ;A;)

[thewrittenpost]

For the song lyric: I gravitate towards you or you'll miss me when I'm gone

Alright, I had to do a Violet one; now I’ve got one for every WIP I’ve got! Yay! :D

Send me a song lyric and I’ll write you a mini AU for my OCs based on that lyric

Read More to keep things small!

I can’t believe I’m back here already; I worked very hard to make sure I wouldn’t have to come back, not yet at least. I had planned on finishing college, getting that degree and coming back as a success in every way… a way of rubbing it in the faces of everyone who had told me I couldn’t do it.

It was sad when the villains were the only ones encouraging you, telling you that you could do anything.

But here I am -for a short time-  because my brother had gotten engaged. Engaged of all things, to some girl he’d only met a year before… and had sworn he loved in the first month.

Right. There was a reason I don’t talk to him about relationships. It just annoys and confuses me.

“Vivi!” My brother came up from behind, ruffling my hair with a laugh. “There you are! I was beginning to think you were going to miss it!”

“I had finals.” I combed my hair back down with my fingers, tired from the testing, the long drive, and our parents. “I came as soon as I could.”

“You passed no doubt,” He answered the unspoken question for himself, messing my hair up again. Mom called for him from the kitchen, and he started moving, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t forget the party tonight!”

“Do I have a choice?”

()~~()~~()~~()~~()

I know everyone here; that was the problem with these functions. My parents keep a strict social circle, and it never changed. These people had all been coming to parties and special occasions since before I was born.

I sighed, checking my phone and earning a disapproving glare from my mother. I’d texted the others as soon as I got here, hoping they’d have some kind of diversion I could use to escape this, but so far, nothing.

To distract myself, I used my telekinesis -still a secret- to trip up an unfortunate bridesmaid who was currently tormenting one of the caterers. It caused enough of a disturbance to bring a smile to my face; it’s always fun seeing others get what they deserved.

“Violet?”

Oh no.

”Peter. Hi.” I forced myself to turn, the cool polite smile I’d learned years ago on my face. It wasn’t fair that these years hadn’t ruined him somehow; couldn’t he have gotten a beer belly, or been a pool boy, or something? The familiar butterflies came back, dancing in my stomach, and I forced herself to ignore them. “Long time, no see.”

“Uh yeah. Graduation.”

“Uh-huh. Went apartment searching right after; I couldn’t wait to get ready for school. It’s been a crazy few years. You?” Don’t babble, don’t babble, not worth it, calm down!

“Uh yeah, me too. Working, helping my parents out at the restaurant. I’m taking some business classes.” Was it my imagination, or was he as awkward as me? No, that was crazy.

“Mm-hmm. Nice.” I resisted the urge to scratch my head, a habit Rosita had hated and constantly smacked my hands for. I settled for adjusting my glasses, looking up at the chuckle Peter let slip. “What?”

“Nothing. Just… you used to do that, when we were little. We’d be hanging out, and you’d rattle some random fact out and fix your glasses like that,” Peter laughed, bringing back memories that I hadn’t thought about seriously since high school.

“Yeah, Stefanie never liked when I did that, so… you know. Know-it-all me.” The silence was beginning to be uncomfortable… not like it ever wasn’t. But for once, it wasn’t just me feeling it; Peter was shuffling his feet, a nervous habit he’d never managed to break. “Um… how is she by the way? I know you guys were a thing.”

A thing that always hurt because she knew and asked you out anyway, but whatever.

“Oh, um. She dumped me. Right after graduation. College parties. She needed to be single for them.”

“Oh.”

Awkward.

I bit my lip, glancing back down at my phone. Still nothing; were they ignoring me? Or were they somewhere nearby, enjoying my misery?

“-for someone?”

“Huh?”

Peter gestured at my phone, raising his eyebrows. “Waiting for someone?”

“Oh! No, I just texted some old friends -not that we aren’t!- but you know. The people from my internship senior year. Yeah. I told them I was in town, so I figured someone would reply, but… they’re probably working.”

Breaking into a bank or something.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The awkward silence was back! If I could just find an excuse to get away… far away… at least until I wasn’t a mess. Why was I a mess? It wasn’t as if we’d talked in years! I didn’t even like him anymore; I couldn’t like him anymore. It was just a ridiculous sense of nostalgia, that was all.

I would convince myself of it. Eventually.

“Why did you stop?”

I looked up, and Peter wasn’t looking at me, but the party instead. “I’m sorry, were you talking to me?”

Peter looked over, and I nearly took a step back. What is he thinking?

“Why did you stop talking to us?”

“Me?” My voice got louder than I’d planned, and I waved off a few concerned looks from nearby partygoers. I looked back over, irritation overriding the nerves. “I stopped talking to you? That’s not the way it happened. Stefanie was… you know what? I’m not getting into this at my brother’s party. Or ever. If you’d wanted to talk to me before, that’s your loss, not mine.”

I started to storm off, ignoring Peter’s half-hearted attempts at calling me back. I hesitated inside the house for a moment, hoping he would at least follow. He didn’t.

I spent so much time hoping he wouldn’t listen to her, and for what? I laughed, couldn’t help it as I walked out the front door. The whole situation was absurd; my brother getting married, Peter showing up tonight, me actually being here… it was absurd and somehow I couldn’t hate it. I’d somehow missed this place, the people, after all those years wanting nothing more than to escape.

I guess it’s true what they say. You only miss what you had until it’s gone.

I was walking down the street -my mother would notice if I took my car- but soon enough, I heard my phone chiming.

Hey, you’re back. Up for a quick job tonight?

They saw it. Jerks. The timing was too perfect… they had to have been watching the whole awkward affair.

Sure thing boss. You owe me ice cream for ignoring me for five hours btw

The response was quick -as they normally were- but it still made me grin.

There’s Rocky Road in the freezer. Suit up.

Ah, the job of a super-villain never ended… and it never ended for his associates either.

Some things never changed.

[punkascas]

Fic Author Interview

tagged by: the wonderfully talented and incredibly sweet @amirosebooks  ❤

tagging: @iggyw @tenoko1 @casolantern @schmerzerling @amazinmango @serricoj @rainbofiction @coffeeandcas @topaz-eyes @angelofthemoor @culumacilinte @coplins

im going to do this from the slightly broader perspective of creative writing in general (since i write fic but i also write scripts and things for my job). also this is v long. sorry.

What inspires your work most? (The show it is based on, the actor who portrays a certain character, maybe the character itself…? It could even be an experience.) so generally my inspiration is (in order): (a) my own life experiences, (b) some kind of commentary i want to make about the source material or about fiction or fandom in general, and (c) the characters themselves and the aspects i love in them, especially trying to find ways to play with the duality of their personalities, the good aspects and the negative ones.  i’ve known for a long time that what drives me to create is that i want to make other people feel less alone. you know those times to read something or there’s a line someone says, and you’re like, yes, yes, that’s me; no one’s ever gotten that before or at least never put it so perfectly into words, whatever that experience/feeling might be. i want to give people that moment with anything i create. there’s also a lot of things that i’ve experienced in my life that come up relatively often in fiction, or at least in fic, and a lot of it usually is off-putting to me. it never resonates. it’s melodramatic or simply inaccurate, and i think is often written by someone who doesn’t have the lived experience to pull from. so i always want to add my voice to the pile and benefit from my own experiences to make those kinds of tropes and situations more realistic and relatable -- to me, but hopefully also to others.  like generally every character backstory or character arc i write in fic is something pulled from my own life. like it’s probably twisted or adapted somewhat, because i’m not into being autobiographical. but as an example, in faith healer, this bit: Memory degrades with time. Maybe as a child he knew that somehow. He knew that there would be a second, slower death across time, as she became more of idea than person, and so he clung onto specific moments as a talisman for Mom: I had a mom once; this was my mommy. He remembers her hands best. The way her skin was thin and dry, but her fingers strong, and the way they'd close around his hands. The way she would press in love and good luck and humility when he misbehaved with a squeeze to his chubby, too small hands. Second best he remembers her laugh, the way her mouth moved around a smile, the warmth in it, tinged with embarrassment whenever someone startled it out from her. The rest of the memories are vague, more like facts he can read out of a mental police blotter than lived experience. She used to wear some kind of fleece robe in the winter, thick and pilled, creating a soft cushion between her breasts for his head to rest when he sat in her lap for a story. He thinks the robe was red. She used to bake things from scratch and used to let him pretend to help. On Sundays she did laundry, down in the basement. He followed her once, asking when Dad would come back, and she paused on the landing, basket of clothes cocked on her hip, and wouldn't go any further until he went back upstairs. The basement, she said, was too dangerous for him, dark and damp. She wanted him to be safe. She always cut the crust off his sandwiches. that is my experience of my grandmother’s death. when she died i knew i would forget over time the specific details of her, so i picked a couple to remind myself of daily so i’d never forget them. and that was her hands and her laugh. and i do have that memory of her doing the laundry and standing on the landing to the basement asking her where my dad was and when he’d be back (he was on an 18 month voyage to africa - my dad is a sailor). and she did always cut the crusts off my sandwiches for me.  (and btw i can’t ever re-read that passage with crying.)

What is your favorite fandom to write for? i mean, usually whatever my main fandom is at the time? which right now is spn. i did also enjoy writing potc fic and RDJ films sherlock holmes. i like writing characters who have a very strong but also very biased or unusual perspective on the world. they make for good unreliable narrators, which is something i love doing.

Which perspective do you prefer writing in? (First-person, third-person) always, always, always third-person limited is my go-to. i only write in first-person if the original source material is written that way (like ACD Sherlock Holmes) and i want to do a pastiche of that style. 

Do you prefer writing reader fics or OCs? no. full stop. (okay, one caveat: i do like kidfic, but i am also SUPER PICKY about reading it bc im always looking for some accurate representations of parenthood and what it’s like to have a child. like kids are hard??? they’re hard and they make you worry and they drive you crazy and they have their own, weird, stubborn, fascinating views on life and the world. they’re not perfect angel children who exist only to be cute or ridiculously amazing mary sue geniuses. so yeah a well done kidfic where the kid is an OC i will read.)

Do you prefer writing longer works or one shots? given that every single WIP i have right now are fucking, horrible, lengthy novels,i want to say i prefer writing one-shots. i want TO BE ABLE to write one-shots. i used to do???? but yeah, i guess i really do enjoy plotting and world-building, which lends itself to creating monster plot bunnies instead of short stories or quick scenes. 

Do you take requests? i do! do i ever actually get around to writing those requests is another question. but absolutely. send me prompts. ask for timestamps. if it speaks to me, and especially if it’s something i think i can write in less than 1000 words, i’ll most likely give it a go. 

Do you enjoy getting random Asks? yes! always! i try to respond at least with in 72 hours. but yes please COME TALK TO ME ANYTIME.

What inspires the names for OCs (or extra character names) in your works? Do you pick them from real life or just select them at random? A mix? so with fic, i never really write OCs, or if i do, they’re p much a red shirt or like extra #243 or smth and therefore don’t have names. if a character has spoken dialogue or no on-screen dialogue but some impact on the plot, i’ll try to “cast” that part with a character from the source material. for example, in the family business (which i realise isn’t posted yet), there’s some issues with a rival gang that need resolving. i cast the head of the rival gang as a well-known character from spn that has generally served a rival or an enemy to the boys on the show. i like doing that bc i like the parallels it draws, especially when working with an AU, and the ability to explore characters and dynamics from a slightly (or not slightly at all but in fact completely divergent) angle. i follow the philosophy that part of the real cathartic nature of AUs and part of why we write them is the ability to offer commentary on the source material. that a good AU should offer commentary on the source material. they're both metatexts and paratexts simultaneously. the one caveat to this, again, is kidfic, because i like and i do write it (i’ve just never finished any of those fics enough to publish them). and then i try to name kids in the way i think their parents would name them. i try to put myself in the character’s headspace and try to figure out what name(s) would appeal to them. and if we talk about work, and the scripts i write, i mean all of that is basically OCs. so far every script i’ve written while employed by my current firm, i always stick in at least one instance of one of my dogs’ names. i also will make subtle film or tv references. like the script i just wrote, there were three characters, and the first character had already been named harold by our content lead. so i named the other two perry and harmony as a reference to kiss kiss bang bang. i’ve done all the clones from orphan black as OC names. i’ve done members of radiohead.  if one of the scripts im writing already has a theme built into it for a specific pop culture reference (like yesterday one of the scripts i wrote was using yoda speech and star wars analogies as part of its marketing and engagement strategies) so i’ll name characters in line with that pop culture motif (so the star wars themed script has luke and ben and daisy and carrie as characters). 

If your story(ies) have OCs, are their appearances based on real people or celebrities? If so, who? as mentioned above, i rarely include OCs and if i do, they’re unimportant stand-ins. so i never give much thought to how they look. offspring in kidfic i do think about how they look. if the actors who play the main characters have children, i’ll start there. like for dean and cas, i always look at jj and west and maison and try to figure out what a kid with some of those combined physical features might look like. i’ll also look at photos of the actors from when they were kids or teenagers and try to decide if these two people had a kid, what features would that kid inherit.  for work, casting people depends on client expectations and design direction and budget, so it’s a different ballgame. 

How long have you been writing fanfiction? i think the first fic i published was in 2002 or 2003. so 15 years i guess??? how has it been 15 years dude. 

[ineverhadmyinternetphase]

Hey! Do you have any wip in which dnp are in a qpr? If not do you plan on writing some? Maybe you could base it off your relationship, that would be cute. It's just that i've felt really down lately about my sexuality and I feel like i'll never find someone who understands me. Of course don't feel any pressure or anything, i just love your fics

Hey! Ohmygosh someone else interested in QPR phan, hiii, this is wonderful

I actually have an entire QPR verse right here! I’m going to beadding to it in the future, it’s basically going to follow the irl timeline asclose as I can and then move into the future (once I get there)

I also wrote this QPRoneshot back before I extended it into the whole verse

Aaaand the next installment in QPR verse is currently at 750 words and willbe added to and posted as soon as I can ^_^ but as QPR phan is my fave and I’mdoing prompt requests right now, I’m going to post a little thing here for itxD

I hope you don’t feel too down about your sexuality

Now for some QPR verse:

—

Dan hadn’t actually expected a knock at the door.

He was curled up in his uni room, wrapped in the green hoody he’d stolenfrom Phil, and feeling decidedly sorry for himself. He actually hadn’t seen Phil in a couple of days, feeling too wretched to even attempt to leave his uni room despite the plans they’d had to see the city some more. Dan hadn’t been in Manchester for long yet, and Phil was definitely enjoying showing him around.

Dan would actually quite like Phil’s attention on him, thank you very much, which may have been why he posted a picture of himself wrapped in his hoody looking sick and sorry for himself online earlier that day. He’d maybe been attempting to curry some more sympathy from Phil, but Dan wasn’t ever going to admit to that.

He also hadn’t expected anything to actually come from it.

Phil had called him that morning, of course, because he always did. Dan had made sure to cough and splutter and sound as sickly as possible in the hopes of garnering some sympathy, but Phil had just laughed at him.

“You sound like a dying goose.”

“Thanks,” Dan answered dryly, sniffling.

“Don’t worry, it’s a good dying goose noise.”

That was very Phil - comparing him to an animal of some kind, laughing at him but also being kind. Dan didn’t quite know how Phil managed to do that. It didn’t matter quite how shit Phil might be feeling, one call from Phil and he instantly felt better.

Phil was everything to him. They weren’t traditional, he knew, but as far as Dan was concerned, Phil was his person in every way that mattered. They belonged to each other, were committed to each other, and it didn’t matter if no one else quite understood how. Dan didn’t need kisses or romantic gestures or anything more physical than a hug to know that this was the most important relationship in his life.

Phil, miraculously, understood that too. He was perhaps the only other person in the entire world who would, which was why they hadn’t bothered trying to explain to the internet. They were overt about their relationship, and a lot of people read into it in the more traditional way, but Dan just laughed at them most days. Phil could be a little more put off by it than Dan was, so Dan did his best to shield Phil from some of the worst of it. Either way, they had each other, and that was the most important thing.

The knock at Dan’s door sounded again, and he squinted at it as if that would make whoever it was go away. He was feeling even less like peopling than he usually did, and distinctly did not want to get out of the nest of blankets he’d built for himself over the past few days.

After a few minutes of silence, Dan’s phone buzzed. He glanced down with a frown to see a new text from Phil:

Hey, let me in!

Dan blinked. It couldn’t be - could it?

Within seconds, he’d fought his way out of his nest of blankets (kicking one of the more insistent ones away from his ankle) and scurried over to the door, pulling it open to reveal his very favourite person in the world.

“Took you long enough,” Phil grumbled, though his eyes were smiling. He was dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans, wonderfully familiar, and cradled in his hands was a steaming bowl of soup. “Also, I see you’ve appropriated my hoody.”

“It’s comfy,” Dan pouted, and shuffled back out of the way to let Phil in.

His uni dorm was tiny. They hadn’t spent much time together here for that very reason, Dan barely fit inside on his own, and Phil was actually a little taller than him, if only by a tiny amount. (And Dan was still growing, much to his chagrin). But they both squeezed onto Dan’s bed somehow, Phil surveying the little nest he’d built himself with a smile. “Are you broody?”

“Shut up,” Dan mumbled, scrambling determinedly back underneath a blanket and sneezing. “I’m sick, I’m allowed.”

“I know,” Phil reminded him. “You said this morning. And yesterday morning. And in the photo earlier, and in all your texts last night–”

“Yes, well, I’m sick.” Dan definitely wasn’t pouting as he threw a disgruntled look at Phil. “Did you bring me soup?”

Phil rolled his eyes, but he held out the bowl. “Figured I should come make sure you haven’t killed yourself, and also that you’ve eaten some form of vegetable in the last week.”

Dan elbowed him in the ribs, but took the bowl eagerly enough, peeking at it. “Leek and potato?”

“You’re favourite.”

“You’re the best.” Dan settled back into the pillows, legs stretched out over Phil’s lap, and slurped happily.

Phil surveyed him with an arched brow. “What, so I come all the way over from the other side of town, and you’re not even going to let me sit next to you?”

“Nope,” Dan said between mouthfuls. “You’re a footrest.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“But your favourite, right?” Dan looked up at him hopefully. He’d managed to spill some soup on Phil’s hoody.

Phil sighed heavily, but his smile was fond as he reached over to ruffle Dan’s hair. “Yes. Somehow. You’re still my favourite.”

Dan’s answering beam was radiant.

(By the way, this is based off the timeCharlotte actually travelled halfway across the country to bring me soupbecause I was sick xD)

[andyfrills]

Andy’s FanFic Log 28/02/2017

Hello again! This log is a bit shorter than the last since I was away for my cousin’s wedding on the weekend. But I felt the log was at a good point to post, so here we are anyway! Btw I don’t think I mentioned this last time, but feel free to shriek at me about how wonderful fics are/yell at me to read a certain thing. Both are good icebreakers in my opinion and are most welcome in my ask box~!

Fic Count: 20 Fandoms this Log: Yuri!!! on Ice, Voltron

Now onto the customary warnings before we get into it~

I end up reading a lot of random shit. Until I’m a bit more comfortable I might censor a few things out, but there will be explicit fics, darker themes, crazy plots, and insane ships amongst all the sugar and fluff I find around the place. So the really important thing is to carefully read the warnings that I occasionally give & that are on the fic itself, and back away if it’s not for you.

Other posts in this little series can be found under the read fanfiction tag on my page~

Alright! Here we go~!

Yuri!!! on Ice

play that song again, ‘cause we were in love by Piyo13 Words: 1.1k, Rating: Teen, Status: Complete Relationship(s): ChulaCometti (Phichit/Christophe), Victuuri (Viktor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki), Unrequited Vichris & Phichuuri “Of course you are,” Chris replies smoothly. “We’re their best friends and their best men, and look at them. It’d be a crime not to be happy for them.” Phichit raises his eyebrows at the change in person. “So,” he says. “Like recognizes like?”

Very Versatile by Marks Words: 1.8k, Rating: Mature, Status: Complete Relationship(s): ChulaCometti The one where Phichit is really observant when it comes to everything and also Christophe, and Ciao Ciao probably steals a whole tray of mini-pizzas. ~ Not entirely sure of my thoughts on this one. But I kind of liked it, so someone else might enjoy it too.

Now, Take My Hands (Come On) by mintables Words: 3.8k, Rating: No Rating (Mature imo for some sexy times), Status: Complete Relationship(s): ChulaCometti (Along with mentions of other pairs) It begins, as most things in their lives do, at the banquet. Or, Phichit isn’t sure when he began falling for Chris, but maybe he was there the whole time. ~ This is amazing and beautiful! I almost couldn’t stop myself from crying at the fluff. <333</i>

Oh My God, Finally by Halrloprillalar (prillalar) Words: 1.7k, Rating: Explicit, Status: Complete Relationship(s): ChulaCometti, Victuuri At the GPF post-banquet after-party, Chris and Phichit do a little roleplay. ~ The rp was much implemented much better than I was anticipating, but I’m not sure how I feel about the ending. In any case it was still well done so someone else might enjoy it.

Unexpected and Eager by novocaine_sea Words: 3.6k, Rating: Explicit, Status: Complete Relationship(s): ChulaCometti (Anyone guess by now what tag I’ve been going through?) Now that Victor was off with Yuuri, Christophe really had nobody to have fun with after hours. “Christophe!” A cheerful voice called from behind him, almost as if on cue. Christophe turned, champagne flute still twisting in hand. Phichit Chulanont was heading his way with a bright smile on his face. Maybe this banquet wouldn’t be so boring after all. ~ A very sweet lemon~ <3</i>

Liquid Courage by vivaldis_lover Words: 1.5k, Rating: G, Status: Complete Relationship(s): ChulaCometti It’s Phichit’s turn to get drunk at the banquet, but unfortunately for Chris, no pole dancing is involved this year. He will get his reward for taking care of the young skater, though. ~ Just a little bit of drunken fluff <3</i>

Anything Could Happen by Creepikat Words: 7.1k, Rating: Teen, Status: Complete Relationship(s): ChulaCometti, Victuuri, Leo de la Iglasia/Ji Guang-Hong (I have no clue what their ship name is, but they are so cute~~) After two years Viktor and Yuuri finally get married. They rent a Hotel near Detroit, in a beautiful and snowy place. Everyone’s here. The future husbands are idiots. Phichit is a best man. Christophe too. And somehow he’s even more dashing than usual. This is gonna be a merry mess. ~ I love relationship establishing fics like this~ I really love when things like this are continued (alas this is not) but this initial type of fluff gives me life. <33</i>

A Sequence for You by wisia Words: 4.7k, Rating: Teen, Status: Wip Relationship(s): Victuuri Yuuri Katsuki retired from ice skating without any medals or breaking any records. It’s fine. He couldn’t have made it anyway. So, why was Victor Nikiforov asking him to be his coach? ~ This seems like a good roll reversal so far. I think it’ll be interesting to see where it goes.

fire on ice by indianchai Words: 11k, Rating: Teen, Status: Wip Relationship(s): Victuuri All figure skaters were water users. Never in the history of the sport was there professional ice skater that didn’t have water as their elemental affinity. Katsuki Yuri had a well-guarded secret that he can’t have anyone find out about. ~ This is amazing! I love fantasy and mystic type things, so this is right up my alley. Can’t wait to read more!

Remedy by Ishxallxgood Words: 1.8k, Rating: Not Rated (G? Maybe just above for the feels), Status: Complete Relationship(s): Victuuri Those 48 hours these two spent apart were the worst. Viktor finds comfort from that gaping hole in his soul via one Hiroko Katsuki, who loves him as much as she loves her own son. And Yuuri, well Viktor is his remedy, always and forever. ~ A really beautiful hurt/comfort fic <3 Have I mentioned this is a songfic btw?</i>

Turn Backwards on Go by inkwellofstars Words: 5.3k, Rating: Not Rated (G), Status: Wip Relationship(s): Victuuri In which Yuuri and Victor, happily married and retired, find themselves thrown into the past and proceed to mess with everyone. ~ This is a bit of fun, unlike most of the time travel aus which are filled with angst. Can’t wait to see how the two of them are going to continue to mess with everyone!

Only You by quesadiaz Words: 27k, Rating: Teen, Status: Wip Relationship(s): Victuuri In the year 2021, Victor Nikiforov, retired professional figure skater and Number One Husband, steps into a taxi to make his way home from the grocery store, arm full of vegetables and fruits to bring home to his beautiful husband and loyal old dog. A sharp sound and a blur of color is the only warning before Victor wakes up in the year 2016, sitting in a first class seat on an ascending airplane headed for Fukuoka, Japan. ~ I’m mostly enjoying this. A large part of me is just like “I hope everything will be okay T^T” This is also from Yuuri’s pov, a companion fic is going to be released when this one is done.

Gods of Circumstance by Ritequette Words: 15k, Rating: Mature, Status: Wip Relationship(s): Victuuri During his Free Program at the 2016 Barcelona Grand Prix Finals, Yuuri suffers a freak equipment malfunction and falls, hitting his head on the ice.When he wakes up, surprisingly not dead, he finds himself in the last place he expected… the 2015 Sochi Grand Prix Finals. Again.~ Aaaahhhhh, this is an amazing time travel fic! So much feeling! I really want to see how it unfolds.

Dancing Daffodils by greyclouds Words: 40k, Rating: Mature, Status: Wip Relationship(s): Victuuri  "As Love gently wipes away the tears that trail down his cheeks something within Victor quakes, its tremors resonating throughout his entire being like a deafening echo.  He is in the arms of a god.“ A god falls for a man. ~ I’m really enjoying this one!

I have no heart, for you long ago stole it by exile_wrath Words: 4k, Rating: G, Status: Complete Relationship(s): Victuuri In which Eros, one of the six gods of love, falls for a mortal who thinks he’s unlovable. Or in which Yuuri goes to the Temple of Eros to plea for help and ends up being courted by the god himself instead. ~ An interesting fic to say the least. I kinda wish it went on for longer, just so we could see some more development.

On My Love by RikoJasmine Words: 48k, Rating: Teen, Status: Wip Relationship(s): Victuuri Yuuri often thinks of his life as Before and After Viktor Nikiforov, the marking point being the day Viktor swept into his life and turned his world upside-down. After many years together, an accident leads to Yuuri suddenly waking up in the Before—back in Detroit, before the GPF, before he ever knew Viktor as anything other than his childhood idol. As if it had all been just a dream. ~ Holy shit this fic. I’ve cried a couple of times with it already and I’m really looking forward to reading more! <3</i>

Voltron

An Everglow Feeling by BleuSarcelle Words: 3.4k, Rating: Teen, Status: Wip Relationship(s): Klance (Keith/Lance) The one where Lance acquires magic healing powers for being the first human to be inside a cry-pod and it turns out to be a dangerous thing, especially when said abilities are connected with his energy life force and Keith’s bleeding on his arms. ~ This is good! I’m looking forward to seeing where it goes~!

The Hundred Dollar Bill by AQuinton Words: 7.1k, Rating: G, Status: Complete Relationship(s): Klance, Shallura (Shiro/Allura) Shiro convinced Keith to participate in a date auction for charity and now he has to go on a date with Lance. Lots of fluff and ridiculous text conversations ensue. ~ Very, very cute and fluffy~! I was grinning and loving it the whole way through. <33</i>

Roar by CrzyFun Words: 8.7k, Rating: G, Status: Wip Relationship(s): Blue Lion/Red Lion (Well, that was strange to type - no others so far) Lance met them while surfing just off the coast of Cuba. Hunk met him while helping out at his mothers’ restaurant. Pidge met her while solving puzzles with her brother. Shiro met him after leading his soccer team to victory. Keith… Well, Keith had always known her. Which is why he was completely unsurprised to find out the cats were more than they seemed. ~ Interesting concept and a nice fic so far.

Objects in Motion (When Unbalanced) by Mytay Words: 37k, Rating: Teen, Status: Complete Relationship(s): Klance Lance and Keith are constantly being mistaken for a couple. Lance is highly offended. Keith is quietly outraged. Pidge decides if she can’t have peace, then she can write an epic scientific dissertation on the romantic failings of two exceptionally dense paladins. ~ Very nicely written, well paced, and cute. It left me with a rather contented feeling, and it’s definitely one I’d recommend over and over. <3</i>