#Why did I decide to do this I have so many wips right now

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

The Right Fit

Summary: This is a short one. Steven has at last accomplished something amazing in academia and the other two decide to give him a gift. Welcome to your rightful place, Steven.

Warning: None

Word Count: 978

Word Prompt:  Suit

--

It had been a long and difficult journey. 

Possibly not as long as it could have been. Steven had done so much of the work before he had even set foot on campus. Tests and presentations and meetings had taken up his days. Special considerations had also been taken that had made all three of them nervous, even though Jake had pretended to not care. 

A second job working on campus at the bookstore then promoting up to teacher’s assistant. Night shift cabbie jobs done by Jake and weekend chores done by Marc. When Steven felt overwhelmed or had failed to sleep for the third night in a row, Jake and Marc traded on who got to step in and knock Steven out. 

Now, Steven stood in his flat, exhausted but feeling beyond accomplished. “I did it.” He was still clutching the piece of paper he had gotten in a special flat envelope in the mail. “It’s done. I can’t believe it’s done!” 

He pulled out the special frame he had gotten just for this occasion. Slipping off the back, he carefully pressed the paper into the frame then sealed it up. 

“Doctor Grant.” He beamed as he admired the frame. “I quite like the sound of that.” Steven carefully moved to hang the frame up over the fish tank. 

“Hey, we have a present for you.” Jake spoke up, sounding nonchalant but there was a hint of nervousness there too. 

“Oh?” Steven blinked away from the frame. “I don’t need a present. I mean, you guys helped me out so much. This is really an accomplishment for all of us!” 

Marc had pulled all the right strings to make sure all the schoolwork had been given to Steven and Steven alone. It was all in his name and there was no mention of Marc anywhere on the papers. While the school had been made aware of their special circumstances, Jake and Marc had both sworn up and down before the Dean himself that they would not be helping to cheat or bringing unwanted public opinion to the school. 

In fact, Jake and Marc had both taken their own aptitude tests to prove that Steven was in fact the brains of the operation. Neither of them told Steven what their scores had been. Steven suspected that they were probably higher than they thought they would be, but knew they had both been reluctant about their shared GED experience after school and the Marines had failed them. 

What had really brought Steven to tears with pure love was when Marc and Jake had both decided to sit with the school counselor for evaluation. Marc had spent the day before fighting off such a massive panic attack that Steven had briefly considered sitting in for him. Marc had refused and gone in like a champion, his face set in stone and shoulders square as he marched in. 

By the time he came out, he had collapsed on himself and Jake had been forced to take them home. Marc had held his breath through most of the session. When Jake went in, he had stared down the counselor with what had first seemed to be utter malice. It was later determined to be him fighting off a flashback by dissociating so hard that he had zero memory of the actual session. Apparently it had gone well enough. 

When Steven had sat in his own session, bubbling and talkative and chatting up the counselor like this was all nothing to him, they had given their approval to let him take the classes he wanted. They had also slipped a piece of paper to him with a good therapist recommendation for the other two. Marc had promptly thrown it in the bin and made Steven Promise that he would never force them to do anything like that again. 

“This is your dream, Steven.” Marc grinned. “And we wanted you to have this. So… Stop being stubborn and just accept it, okay?” 

“It was Marc’s idea.” Jake spoke up, moving them to pull a large box out of the closet. 

“How on earth did you guys get this without me noticing?” Steven stared at the box in bafflement. 

“Not as hard to do as you’d think.” Jake shrugged. “You sleep like a baby.” 

“And are super unobservant when we do anything around here.” Marc nodded. “I honestly brought it into the place hidden under a stack of books for the first couple of days.” 

“Wow. I…I think I’m a little disappointed in myself now.” Steven laughed. “Can I open it?” He fidgeted his fingers on his sleeves. He wasn’t used to presents. Things that were just his made him nervous. He always wanted to share. To let others be happy too. He secretly hoped it was some sort of cake or something so he could invite friends over to enjoy it too. 

“Of course you can open it!” Marc sighed. “It’s for you! Go on! You aren’t going to be a doctor for the first time forever!” 

Steven took off the lid and stared down into the box with puzzlement for a moment. His hand was trembling as he picked up the item. He wasn’t sure if it was him that was trembling or perhaps Marc. “A hat?” 

“We aren’t getting you a machete.” Jake smiled. 

Recognition brought tears to his eyes as he suddenly understood. He quickly moved to stand before a mirror and put the hat on. 

It was large and out of place here in his London flat, but soon it would be out where it belonged. He had already been invited out to a dig site to help translate a new tomb that had been found. 

“When danger is near.” Marc smirked. 

Steven had the largest smile he could muster as he tilted the hat back. “Steven Grant has no fear.” 

[vanishingcherry]

YN YLN and Charles Leclerc Take a Couples Quiz

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

author's note: this has been in my drafts for wayy to long, so ive decided to just finish it off and post it. im sorry lmao but i just couldn't watch this rot away in my wips any longer.

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

The video cut to you and Charles, sitting opposite each other in front of a yellow to red gradient, smiling at the camera.

"Hi! I'm YN", you say cheerfully.

"And I'm Charles"

"And we are here to take a couples quiz!"

You are handed a stack of questions from a person off screen, and turn towards Charles.

"Are you ready?"

"Is that the first question?" he retorts.

Your face drops, now showing slight annoyance but there is still a small smile you try to hide. "That's it. Minus 1 points."

"Oh c'mon! That is not fair."

You turn to argue but the video cuts to a different scene in which you ask the actual first question.

"What things do I have, of yours, that are my favourite?

He looks up in thought before chuckling and replying. "Theres a lot, you steal my stuff all the time."

You grin. "Yes, but what's my favourite?"

"My shirts? No wait! My bracelets?" He asks.

"Yeah!" you exclaim. Turning to the camera you add. "He gets so many bracelets from fans and they are all so pretty. We keep them in a bowl on our dresser so I like to take a few whenever I go out."

Looking back at Charles, you add. "You didn't know the answer, but you still got it right so I think you deserve half a point." The staff behind the camera gives you a thumbs up, noting it down for when they would edit the video.

"Ok! Next question- which song of yours is my favourite?"

He looks at you, his eyes widening with a confused expression on his face. He looks at the camera crew and then back at you.

"C'mon, I only have 2 it's not a very hard question."

"Then answer it." you reply, looking at him with a small smirk.

"Fine. Uh, AUS23."

"Wrong!" you exclaim, laughing at the way his jaw drops in surprise.

"Then what? I know its not Miami."

"Its the one you wrote for Baku." you slyly say, knowing fully well that he hadn't released it and you were possibly the only one other than him to have heard it.

You look down at the cards you had been given, reading off the next question. "What is the first thing I eat in the morning?"

You see his smirk growing in your peripheral vision and cut in before he answers. "If you dare make a joke, I will murder you."

He laughs at that, chuckling as he looks up to think. "Um. Breakfast? It's different things every morning, but if I wake up before her then I make cereal."

Noticing the evident confusion on the faces of the cameramen, you elaborate. "It's the only thing he's allowed to make without me present. The last time I let him cook alone, he burned the pancakes and half our kitchen."

Turning red at the story, he interrupts. "Okayy, next question amore."

"Which side of the bed do I sleep on?"

"Left."

"If I could get a tattoo of something, what would it be?"

"A bouquet of flowers. The flowers would be your favourite and my favourite together."

You are shocked at his response. "How did you remember that? I told you that ages ago!"

He smiles slyly to the camera. "That is why I am the best boyfriend, there is no need for these silly questions I am already the best. She told me so in be-"

"Right. Next question." You cut him off, eyes widening as you figure out where he was going with the statement. "This is the last one. If I could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

"Oh this is easy. Italy. You are always talking about how much you love it. But you also love Monaco and France so depending on how you feel, one of those three."

"Well.", you look at the camera, "I think that answer deserves 2 points." Handing your questions off to the side, you turn to Charles who has started reading the first of his questions.

"If I had a ticket to anywhere in the world, where would I go?" he reads. "This is similar to yours", he mutters.

"Home", you say confidently. "He's a mama's boy, tries to go back home as much as possible."

He blushes slightly before nodding to the camera. "Yup, 1 point."

"What was I wearing on our first date?"

You reply quick as lightening. "A shirt and pants. Very gentlemanly, I remember thinking, probably the best first impression I've had of a guy."

His eyebrows raise at the confession, cockily tilting his head in the direction of the camera. "You heard her! Next, what is something I hate?"

"A lot of things, Char."

"Is that your final answer, cherie?"

"Um." you pause. "Oh I know! When manipulate stuff that you say. It makes me really mad too. It gets really tiresome when they take stuff that Charles has said that turn into into a different story altogether."

"Thats true, I do hate that." He smiles at you, reaching over to squeeze your hand once to say thank you.

"How many kids do I want?"

"3, because you have 2 siblings. But, you said you want as many as I am comfortable with!"

"Of course, amour. You're the one whose going to be carrying them, your choice is more important here. What is something I get annoyed about?"

"Oh, when Seb and Carlos beat you at those Ferrari games you play."

His jaw drops in faux offence, shaking his head as he reads out the last question on his cue card.

"What is one my hidden talents?"

You look straight at the camera, not dissimilar to The Office. A smirk grows on your face and the lens zooms in. In the background Charles can be heard complaining.

"Oh I see! You can make these jokes, but I cant?"

The video cuts to the wider angle once again, you and Charles wave at the camera.

"Thanks for watching our couples quiz! I think it's clear that I've won."

Charles rolls his eyes, eyes shining with admiration and love for you. "Bye everybody."

Comments:

charleslover: OH MY GOD!! THEY ARE SO IN LOVE IT KILLS ME

ynandcharles: their facial expressions always kill me

username89: where do i get a charles leclerc bcs i will willingly offer all the money i have

doratheexplorer16: their love for each other hurts

[writingquestionsanswered]

how does one cope when mid-way through they realize they are writing a tragedy and there is no possibility of a happy ending? especially when that was not the original intention? i'm absolutely gutted by this realization and i hate that i feel wedded to it.

Upset Because Story Went Off the Rails

You're a Writer, Not a Marionette - Long ago, I bought into the believe that characters and stories have minds of their own... that it was beyond my control if my character did X when I wanted them to do Y... that there was nothing I could do if my happy meet-cute story decided to be a dark tale of horror. It can be kind of fun (and freeing, honestly) to believe we're just helpless vessels through which some greater storytelling force speaks, but that's not the case at all. There's no magical entity pulling the strings beyond your control. If your character does X and you wanted them to do Y, you did that, not your character. If your happy meet-cute turns into a tragic horror, you did that, not your story. You're the writer, and you're in control of everything that does or does not happen in your story.

Does It Make the Story Better? - Human brains are incredible things, and sometimes when your character does X when you intended for them to do Y, it's because some part of your brain realizes that's the better choice. Maybe it's more believable or more natural. Maybe it just works better with what you're laying out. Maybe it's just more interesting. So, the trick is to look at the unintended thing that happened and ask yourself if it makes the story better. Make a list of pros and cons... what are the ways the story is better if you stick with X rather than Y. What are the ways it's worse? Ultimately, if the change truly makes the story better, it's worth following through.

Beware of Story Parasites - Parasites are organisms that invade and thrive inside a host organism, at the host organism's expense. When you're writing your WIP and it takes a massive shift in tone, genre, or direction, sometimes that's because a whole new story idea has bullied its way into this one and is now feeding off this story to survive. If the unintended thing doesn't make the story better and leaves you feeling upset about the direction things are heading, you've probably got a story parasite. In which case, the best thing you can do is write the idea down as generally as possible, and set it aside to work on another time. Treating this invasive idea as something distinct from your WIP can help you move on and keep your story on its intended path.

What To Do When the Change Has to Stay - Very rarely, you may find that story's original direction just isn't working, and that this new (and vastly different) direction makes for a much better story. In that case--if you're absolutely certain this is the right path--it's worth making a list of all the reasons this idea will be better. Try to imagine what the story will be like if you stick with the original plan, versus if you make the drastic change. Can you think of anything that excites you about this new idea? Can you find reassurance in the many ways that this story shines versus the original idea?

Ultimately, It's Up to You - If your story takes an unexpected and upsetting turn, and you're certain it's the superior course, and that there's no point in pursuing the story's original path instead, it's worth really taking a look at why it's so upsetting if it's the right thing to do. If you're disappointed that your original plan didn't work out, spend some time trying to figure out how to make the original plan work better than the new idea. If you're upset because this idea is too personal or triggering, set it aside and see if you can come back to it later. You're not obligated to keep working on a story if it shifts in a direction that makes you unhappy or uncomfortable. You can set it aside or figure out a way to keep it in your comfort zone.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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

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[thoushallnotfall]

Walkin' After Midnight

Masterlist

Pairing: Marko x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Note: *finger guns* Ehhhhh...so it’s been a minute. How ya’ll been? So completely ignoring that’s it’s been...a long time, here’s another of my ‘imagine the boys in a decade prior to the 80s’ fics--and we’re moving right along to the 50s!

I started this...a very long time ago, and then I didn’t like it so I just left it in my WIPs with like 15 other ideas/half-written fics/updates. I still don’t love it, but upon further reflection I don’t totally hate it--and it was already started so I didn’t have to work as hard to finish it, so there’s that.

That being said, I'm kind of interested in writing a part 2, so we'll see...taking babysteps here.

(I’m really having to dig deep for these gifs)

Every kid from Santa Carla grew up knowing two things: Don’t go out after dark if you ever want to make it home, and stay away from the greasers who hung around the boardwalk.

It never really occurred to you that those two things could be related.

Unlike a lot of the teenagers in Santa Carla, who’d run there with nowhere else to go, you’d lived there all your life. You’d never left the city, and the older you got the more you doubted you ever would. Your dad had been killed in Vietnam, and your mom was around so little you half expected one day she’d just stop coming back home at all. You may not be one of the runaways, but you were still alone in Santa Carla.

Still, you were young; and while you knew you’d have to find a way to live on your own sooner or later, you decided to try and enjoy what little youth you had left. One day you’d have to grow up and start providing for yourself somehow, but for now you just wanted to live your life to the fullest before that all got taken away.

With that in mind, you’d taken to going to plenty of the dances and social events in town. You didn’t have a curfew, and no one was around to care about where you were, but even so you tried not to be out too late after dark. That’s always when the people went missing--and they never came back.

That’s why it was the first rule of Santa Carla: Don’t go out after dark.

The official numbers were never right, given how many of the people who disappeared were runaways, but the amount of missing people in Santa Carla had always been unusually high. The only thing they knew for sure was that they always seemed to vanish at night.

The prevalent theory among many of the local teens was aliens. They came out with their flying saucers and abducted unsuspecting people in the night. Others were more practical--they just thought there was a really good serial killer in town.

It could be anyone! They’d say.

But people have always gone missing in Santa Carla--is he an old man, still killing people in his 70s? Someone else would question.

Okay, so a family of serial killers! They’d say back.

Personally, you had no idea who or what was making people disappear. You only cared about surviving it, and the best way to do that was stay in at night.

Then, there was the second rule of Santa Carla: Stay away from the greasers.

There was a particularly nasty group of punks who usually hung around the Boardwalk at night. No one knew who they were--probably just another group of runaways--but people had grown to know they were trouble. A gang of greasers who didn’t care about the law and would sooner gut a man than say hello. That’s what people said about them, anyway.

So imagine your surprise when you broke both rules in a single night.

--

The night in question started out well enough. You and a friend had gone to the beach in the afternoon, and spent most of the day there. At one point, the two of you had attracted the attention of some boys--who ended up spending the day with you.

So when the sun got low and it was time to leave, your friend decided to accept the invitation from the boys to go get some dinner at the local diner. You however, weren’t as excited about the prospect. Not only did you not want to be out too late, you frankly just weren’t that interested in any of them. Your friend tried to get you to change your mind, but you held firm.

And so it was that your friend headed off with the guys. At least she brought you into town so you wouldn’t have so far to walk to get home. And while you weren’t jazzed about walking home alone you figured you could make it back quick enough that it’d be okay. Unfortunately, it was nearly dark before you even made it back to town--and well into the night by the time you walked past the Boardwalk.

You tried to hurry your way through the crowded streets of tourists and late-night couples walking hand in hand without any trouble. But of course that's exactly what you find.

"Hey there pretty lady, going my way?" A big guy in a varsity sweater asks. He looked like a jock--maybe home from college? You didn't know him, and you certainly didn't want to.

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry." You say, hoping to sidestep him and continue on your way. He moves to stand in front of you.

"Aw, don't be like that doll." He says, looming over you. "I just want to get to know you."

"Well I'm not interested." You say, trying to push past him. He grabs your wrist, squeezing so tight it makes you wince in pain.

"Not so fast girlie--we ain't done talking yet." He says, pulling you back.

Oh God, this is it. He's a part of that serial killer family and you're about to get murdered.

Your frantic thoughts are interrupted as the creep let's you go. He screams as he looks to his other side. You follow his gaze and see a greaser with blonde, curly hair standing next to him--the jock's wrist in his hand. He squeezes it tighter and the jock falls to one knee, yelling in pain.

"Don't like it so much on the receiving end, do yah punk?" The boy says, squeezing even tighter. Despite being smaller than the other boy, the greaser was still clearly stronger.

"What the hell man? Let me go!" The jock begs.

"You want me to let you go?" The greaser smirks. "Alright." He lets the guy go, before quickly using his now free hand to punch him square in the face. The boy falls back, holding his bloody, broken face in his hands. The greaser grabs the bleeding boy by the collar and pulls him up, smiling at him. "Now beat it before I decide to get serious." He says, dropping his collar. The boy scrambles up and runs off, disappearing down an allyway.

You watch him run off, stunned by what had just happened.

"You okay?" The blonde asks, having turned his attention to you. You practically jump out of your shoes.

"What? Oh." You look down at your wrist. "Yeah, it's fine--I mean, um, I'm fine." You stumble through before looking back up at him. "Thank you."

"No problem. Punks like that deserve a good beating." He says, before he smirks. "And I couldn't let him hurt a pretty thing like you, now could I?"

Uh oh, you may have just gone out of the frying pan and into the fire.

"So what's your deal anyway? You know it's not safe walking around alone at night, right?" He asks, ignoring your apprehensive look.

"We'll um," You hesitated, unsure of how much you should say about yourself. "I was out with a friend, but she had other plans. She drove, so..."

"So now you're stuck walking back. I get you." He says. "Pretty uncool of your friend, ditching you like that. But hey, I'll make sure you get home safe."

"What?" You nearly shout. "Um, no really that's not necessary. I'm fine now, so--"

"No way. I already told you--you're way too cute to be out here on your own." He says, cutting off your attempt to protest. "My bike's nearby, let's go."

"I would really hate to put you out," you try once more to worm our way out of the situation, but he wasn't having it.

He smirks, "I offered didn't I? Don't worry about it." He grabs your hand and all but drags you down the block.

Soon enough, you arrive at a parking lot, and he leads you towards a row of four motorcycles lined up in the corner. He lets you go, moving to the bike at the end and throwing his leg over to sit. He looks at you, holding out his hand. You were pretty sure you couldn't get away from him even if you tried, so you took a deep breath and accepted his outstretched hand. He helps you onto the back of the bike, smirking as gravity slide you down towards him.

"So princess, were are we going?" he asks, tilting his head back to look at you sitting behind him. You hesitated giving him your address, but at this point if he wanted to do something nefarious he didn't need to take you home first.

You were in too deep now.

You tell him, and he nods, "Yeah, I know the place." He starts the bike, giving you one last smirk as he revves the engine, "Better hold on tight."

Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist as the bike shoots forward. You gripped him tightly, you head resting on his back. You squeezed your eyes shut, fear coursing through you as your heartbeat raced. As much as you knew you should watch where you were heading, you were too scared to open your eyes. He was going fast--very fast--and with each bump and turn, you were sure you would crash and that would be the end of it.

But the two of you didn't crash, and before you knew it the bike slowed to a stop. You dared to open an eye, and saw you sat in front of your house. A little run down and a bit worse for wear, but still yours. You sat up, shocked you had not only survived the ride, but that he had actually brought you home.

"This it?" he asked like he already knew the answer. You turned to him,

"Oh, um--yes, it is."

"Doesn't look like anyone's home," he commented absently, and you felt your shoulders tense.

"Oh, my parents are here--they just go to bed early," you lied. Something told you he knew you weren't telling him the truth, but he didn't say anything.

You hoped off the bike, smoothing the wrinkles from your skirt out of habit. You took a step towards your door, then stopped. You turned, looking back at the smirking, curly-haired boy sitting lazily on his bike.

"Thank you again. For bringing me home, and for helping me with that guy earlier, " you were still scared of him, but he had helped you. It would be bad manners not to at least thank him for his help.

He laughs, the moonlight catching his blue eyes as he stared back at you.

"Anytime, princess," he replies. He started his bike, glancing back up at you, "I'm Marko, by the way."

"Oh, I'm y/n." You had certainly not planned to tell him your name, but at this point could it really hurt?

"Well, I'll see you around, y/n," he says, his smile wide and mischievous. Before you could say anything more, he rode off down the quiet street, disappearing into the darkness.

[topherwrites]

FIC RECS: TOP GUN: MAVERICK - 2!

Okay, so there was shit I forgot in my year in review rec list. I posted it and a minimum of about 10 other fics immediately came to mind. so, part 2! I also didn't put many WIPs on the first one, but I think currently in progress fics should get some love too. I'll be marking them with an asterisk.

If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each.

I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! Happy reading!

P.S. If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!

(P.S.S. reblog the fics you like, it makes writers happy.)

part 1, if you missed it.

SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!

JAKE SERESIN

Parking Lots and Matcha Lattes by @withahappyrefrain

In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop. AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.

The Hangman Special by @hangmanssunnies

On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

*she is both hellfire and holy water by @chemistryread

you should take it as a compliment, that I'm talking to everyone here but you.

Birds Away by @wombtotombx

You’d known Jake since you were kids, bonding over the shared experience of being military brats overseas. You were the perfect pair - he was reckless, you followed the rules; he didn’t care what others thought, you were a people-pleaser. You both became the best of the best in your field - he through sheer talent and skill, you from demonstrated grit and determination. For over two decades, everyone around you - parents, friends, even teachers - had assumed you’d both end up together, despite the fact that somehow, you never did. The Navy always had its way of keeping you two apart. Whatever possibilities there might have been, it was just never in the cards. Until you got to Fallon.

*The Backup by @ereardon

No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits? 

Take Care of Business by @honkytonk-hangman

The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

When Jake Met Polly by @/honkytonk-hangman

Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.

How It's Done (Oneshot Version) by @/honkytonk-hangman

“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven by @sehnsuchts-trunken

Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he’s actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father’s new best friend, Jake Seresin.

BRADLEY BRADSHAW

*fever pitch by @greenorangevioletgrass

Arsenal and USMNT captain Bradley Bradshaw attends the mononymous music sensation Y/N's concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream. Little did he know that they soon embark on an epic love story fit for pop royalty...

This Love Came Back to Me by @beyondthesefourwalls

You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.

I Like Your Cinema by @sometimesanalice

Bradley wasn’t sure why you wanted to see the movie again, especially when neither one of you had particularly liked it the first time you’d seen it together. But when you’re tugging down his zipper, things start to make a lot more sense.

‘cause no one breaks my heart like you by @heartsofminds

“Last times always make him uneasy. He thinks that he should be used to it by now from his track record of being abandoned (willfully or “out of their control” situations alike). None of this should hurt him as deeply anymore.” or Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though it’s hard to see).

the periphery by @youvebeenlivingfictional

You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.

*Hotter Than Texas by @tongue-like-a-razor

Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin’s baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley’s dream girl worst nightmare.

*flight risk by @ofstoriesandstardust

In which you and Rooster got married while at UVA for the military benefits. What started out as a mutually beneficial deal between friends years ago turns into a point of interest for Maverick, causing Rooster to have to haul you out to Fightertown to get him to shut up. While Maverick’s fussing over a marriage he didn’t know existed, Rooster’s focused on getting the ball rolling on divorce papers because really, the Navy does not need to be calling some poor girl from his college that he’s died in a horrendous accident. It’s proving to be more difficult than he expected, especially when Hangman and Phoenix take it upon themselves to encourage a friendship to become more. 

How You Play the Game by @roosterforme

Bradley always loved October because of the World Series. He never expected a mix-up with the ticket he won to bring something as spectacular as you into his life. But time is fleeting, and now baseball is the last thing on his mind.

*The Intern by @/roosterforme

You barely have a minute to yourself after graduating at the top of your Ivy League class before your father insists you find an internship. Your days of lounging by the pool and partying are numbered as he has an endless parade of his colleagues visiting the house. But one of them is familiar to you in a way that warms your skin just like the San Diego sun. And it turns out, Bradley Bradshaw may just have the answers to all your problems. And those answers might be waiting for you on a yacht in the Mediterranean Sea.

there was something 'bout you by @bussyslayer333

bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him.

*Ultraviolence by @babyonboard

You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no mind to. At least that's how it used to be.

All Too Well by @bradleyfuckingbradshaw

You’re at dinner with your boyfriend and some of his colleagues at a restaurant he chose when you look over the menu and realize there’s no vegetarian option, but he’s too busy with his friends to realize that. Bradley isn’t.

October 3rd Promptober by @familyvideostevie

you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley.

If You Met Me First by @tip-top-cloud-surfer

Rooster confessed to Echo that he was in love with her before the mission. One minor problem: she has a boyfriend.

Home for the Holidays by @mothdruid

Bradley might have lied about having a girlfriend. His best friend, you, decide to help him out and go home for the holidays with him. As the trip unfolds, so does your and Bradley’s feelings for one another.

BOB FLOYD

*I bet this would look beautiful on film by @coridotmp3

Honey desperately needs a photographer, and Bob desperately needs a break.

Robert from Next Door by @attapullman

You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

If Only the Neighbors Knew by @/attapullman

A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.

*Golden Hour by @/ereardon

Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Ruin the Friendship by @withahappyrefrain

The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he’s learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He’s determined to fix that.

International Bob Floyd Fucks Month Masterlist

a january writing event hosted by @/attapullman

Bob from Stats by @/attapullman

College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 4

Shiny new schedule! Lets see how it shakes out. I'm hoping this will give each story time to shine on its own. But as my husband pointed out, it is four days in a row of stories followed by a day of no posting and then WIP Wednesday for the next two. So there really isn't a break between them lol!

Eh, it's fine!

In this Eddie finds what happened to Steve and decides to do something about it. And Steve develops a crush on Eddie's swimming.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~

Steve was grateful when the party ended. He was about ready to vibrate out of his skin. He needed to talk to Robin.

“All right spit it out,” she huffed when they got into the car. “I can tell you’ve been antsy all day.”

He let out a sigh. He loved her so much. He never had to over-explain himself with her. The way he always did with Tommy.

“When you guys do the staff swim on Saturdays, how often is Eddie there?”

She blinked at the question. It was the last thing she would have thought he would ask.

“Almost every week,” Robin said. “He wasn’t there last week because he had to help his uncle in the yard, but yeah. If he can be there, he will.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Does he play around usually or does he do laps and shit?”

She frowned as she thought back. “He’s usually doing laps when we get there and then plays around with us when we get in the pool.”

“Is he doing a basic breaststroke or...?” he hedged, biting on his bottom lip.

“All right, what’s with the twenty questions?” Robin replied. “Just ask what’s really on your mind.”

Steve let out a long breath. “Is there a chance he could have been trained to swim and not just taught?”

She sat back in the passenger seat and thought about it.

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” he said dryly. “Because Robin, he’s fucking good. Like could be better than me with the right coach good.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wait, really?”

Steve nodded.

They sat on that thought the rest of the way home.

~

Eddie got home from his swim and immediately hopped into the shower. He hated showering in locker rooms. Even when they were supposedly empty. Too many close calls with the jocks at his high school to feel safe in those things.

When he got out his Uncle Wayne was sitting on the armchair reading the newspaper.

“You know those things are going go the way the dodo any day now, right?” he teased, flopping on the nearby sofa.

“Uh-huh,” Wayne said dryly, not bothering to look up. “You’re back early.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “The rec center general manager was having her son’s birthday party today so I dipped out early.”

Wayne put down his paper and took off his glasses. “They didn’t tell you they’d need to use the pool? That’s not fair, Ed.”

“No, no,” Eddie said waving his hands back and forth. “They were using the kiddie pool. They were just super loud and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with just lifeguards today with Robin helping out.”

“She getting paid for that?” Wayne said, steely-eyed.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yes Uncle Wayne, they were asked if they wanted to and were paid overtime for it.”

Wayne nodded curtly and went back to his paper. “I went to the library and looked up that Harrington fellow. Five gold medals, two silver and a bronze. Probably would have had even more gold medals if it weren’t for that accident at the beginning of the games.”

“Tragic,” Eddie said. He was aiming for sarcastic but it came out more sincere than he would have liked.

“I think it was sabotage.”

Eddie’s head whipped up to look at his uncle. “You want to repeat that?”

Wayne carefully folded the paper and set it on the side table next to him. He pulled off his glasses and looked him in the eye. “I think it was a deliberate attempt to get Steve out the games.” Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Now I don’t know if it was meant to go as far as it did, but without a doubt that jumping board was tampered with.”

Eddie sat back and looked at him skeptically. “You shitting with me right now?” Wayne shook his head. “Because why would anyone do that? He only did okay in the second Olympics he was in. He didn’t even medal the first time.”

“Because they were throwing around phrases like ‘world record’ and ‘best swimmer of his generation’ about Steve Harrington at Beijing,” Wayne explained. “Like proper news worthy stuff. All eyes would have been on him and I’m betting that whoever it was wanted him out.”

Eddie sat back on the sofa with a “Huh.” He pulled out his phone and pulled up the internet. He typed in Steve Harrington’s name and the top results was his 2008 Olympic trials. Which Eddie privately wondered if someone paid heavily for that.

He clicked on the link. The final swim for butterfly and no one else was even in frame. He could hear the zoooom, click, of the camera zooming back out. Hargrove came in second, Hagan third and then everyone else was tight cluster of bodies at the finish line.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed. “He’s not just good. He’s God’s gift to swimming, son of Poseidon levels of ability here. If you’re right and someone did this to him, I hope they fucking hang for it.”

“Kick him out of the sport at the very least,” Wayne said gruffly. “Maybe even criminal charges if they call pull them.”

Eddie nodded. “Speaking of criminal charges, how the hell did you convince Chief Hopper to get me off mine? Because I should have gotten probation at least. A criminal record and jail time at the worst.”

Wayne looked him straight in the eye. “Because I know everyone deserves a second chance. Not everyone is like your daddy. He used up every ounce of goodwill he had with everyone before they locked him up threw away the key. Hopper was a delinquent before he got into a big enough trouble and his parents sent him to military school.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. That explained a lot more than anything else he knew about the man. “And you what? Covered it up for him? Took the fall? What?”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

Eddie leveled his uncle with a glare. “It must have been something big because he picks me up every day and is part of the trio that has to sign off on my paper work. That’s not a small favor, Uncle Wayne.”

“That’s certainly true,” he agreed. “I was a character witness for him to adopt his daughter, Elinor. He’s pretty damn sure that if it wasn’t for me going to bat for him they would’ve never let him some much as foster let alone adopt.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, nodding thoughtfully. “That is a pretty big favor.”

“You being good to him?” Wayne asked after a moment.

Eddie reared his head back and tilted in confusion. “Who? Hopper?”

“No,” Wayne scoffed. “Steve. You might have not have known at first what he went through, but you do now. So are you being good to him?”

Eddie opened his mouth to instantly reply ‘of course!’ but he forced himself to stop and think about it. “I don’t really spend enough time with him to be one way or another, but I haven’t gone out of my way to be a dick, you know?”

Wayne nodded and then picked back up his paper and Eddie knew that was the end of that. He went back to watching videos of Steve completely smash his American teammates to smithereens. Like the way the guy moved through the water was like a hot knife through butter, it was that smooth.

Then he pulled up the video. The one that ended the guy’s Olympic dreams for good. They were all at the starting line and everything looked normal. Calm. Then the gun went off and suddenly it all went wrong. The spring board literal flew out from under Steve. He tried to correct his trajectory, but Eddie could see he only made it worse.

He clung to it desperately, but his head bashed the side and suddenly he was under. Sinking like a stone. People held their breath as they watched, waiting for him to surface again. But he didn't. Suddenly, a streak of white flashed by everyone and dove in, straight for him. The figure grabbed Steve and dragged him to the surface. When they both crested the surface, it revealed just exactly who his savior was.

Robin.

Somehow there wasn’t any blood, just a giant bruise where he hit his head. Eddie can tell he’s unconscious and Robin barely holding on. Then finally a couple of the coaches jumped in after them and helped pull him to edge of the pool where EMTs were waiting with a stretcher. They immediately wrapped his neck in brace and then carefully hauled him out of the water.

All this to fucking commentary. Like Eddie wanted to reach back in time and punch those assholes until they bled. Sure, tell people what happened. But this? This was disgusting. A play by play.

Eddie exited out of the video and threw his phone on the sofa next to him. Afraid of the water. That’s what Jeff had suggested back when he first started doing his community service. Murray had even suggested something to the like. But this? This cinched it.

Fuck.

“Would something like almost drowning make you afraid of the water?” Eddie asked out loud, chewing on his lip and rubbing the bottom of his lip.

Wayne looked up from his newspaper again with a questioning hum. So Eddie repeated the question. “Could do, I suppose. Trauma is a bit funny like that. Why do you ask?”

Eddie told him about Steve’s avoidance of main pool and how he stayed to the kiddie pool and endless pool. “Like he obviously takes showers and shit, so it’s not a complete aversion, but it’s something, right?”

Wayne hummed again, this time more thoughtfully. “Certainly sounds like it’s more than something, Ed.”

Eddie slapped his knees and stood up. “Right, I think I know what I need to do.” He grabbed his phone off the sofa and patted his pockets to make sure he had his keys.

“I’ll be back later,” he called out over his shoulder and Wayne hummed his acknowledgment that he heard him, before he was flying out the door.

He got in his van and drove straight over. He skidded to a stop in front of nice house in Loch Nora. He barely managed to yank the keys out of the ignition before storming up the stairs to the front door. He pounded on the door until Gareth opened it.

“Hey,” he said with a grin. “Your dad’s a psychologist, right?”

Gareth blinked at him a moment, unsure what was going on. “Dude, you do realize it’s barely ten o’clock on a Saturday? You know, that day most people use to sleep in?”

Eddie looked at his watch for a moment and then looked up at his friend with a chagrined expression. “Sorry, dude. I can come back later if you want.” He jutted his thumb behind him at his van.

Gareth peered around him and then looked at Eddie blearily. “No, no I don’t want to unleash you on the unsuspecting populous when you get like this.” He turned around and waved for Eddie to follow.

Eddie bounced on his toes for a moment trying to decide if he should come in or not. He was about to decide not, when Mrs. Hughes came around the corner.

“Eddie!” she cried cheerfully. “You’re just in time for breakfast. I’ll throw another couple of slices of bacon on the griddle for you.”

So he came in, lured by the promise of bacon.

“So what did you need to my dad about?” Gareth asked, setting the table for breakfast.

Eddie jumped, nearly forgetting he had a mission. “There’s this guy at the pool they have me doing community service at, who has a shit ton of trauma and I wanted to ask him for advice on not accidentally fucking the guy up worse, you know?”

“That’s admirable, Eddie,” Dr. Hughes said, coming into the kitchen with the newspaper. “Trauma is such a tricky thing and by educating yourself in knowing where the common landmines are is good place to start.”

Eddie sighed in relief. He had been worried that Gareth’s dad would tell him to keep his nose out of it.

So once breakfast was on the table and they had dug in a bit, Gareth’s twin Gethin having spent the night at a friend’s, Eddie started telling Dr. Hughes all about Steve.

Dr. Hughes nodded. “Trauma in relation to pain is a tricky thing to unravel because they avoid the thing for fear of getting hurt again.”

Eddie nodded, soaking up everything and even taking notes. “Thanks, Dr. H, this was really helpful. I won’t feel so nervous around him anymore.”

“You’re a good kid, Eddie,” Dr. Hughes murmured. “I’m glad my personal psych profile was able to help in keeping you out of jail. It never sat right with me that poor people have to resort to crime to stay afloat and then be punished more severely for it.”

Eddie blushed. “Thanks for that, too.”

He knew was reductive to claim that it was Hopper that got him off, especially when so many people came out to help him stay out of jail and out of having a criminal record. But Hopper’s testimony was certainly the most memorable.

He finished breakfast and then spent time with Gareth going over the next session of their current D&D game.

Come Monday, he was going to help Steve in every way he could. Because if anyone knew the consequences of having a shit hand dealt you, it was Eddie.

~

Part 5

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @eriquin @tartarusknight @gloomysoup @morallyundefined

[read-write-thrive]

JATP x DBDA crossover where the Phantoms are free but Willie still isn’t and Caleb is playing dirty now that the boys have bested him (possessing Nick but also cmon he definitely has more magic up his sleeve) so they start trying to figure out Magic on their own, which is really just Julie and Flynn googling things and trying out various types of magic/spells/scam artists in the area, only for someone to come across something to do with the DBDA who are happy to take the case 👀

I have too many WIPs for this but just some ideas floating around my head:

- Crystal at first butts heads with Julie and Flynn (residual mean girl tendencies/differing senses of humor) but end up bonding over being surrounded by (dumb) dead teenage boys

- None of the Phantoms are good at proper spells but their music 100% has magical properties that is utilised in whatever final battle type event happens

- Edwin has come to terms with Charles’s eccentricities but the Phantoms are a whole other type of teenage boy and I think he would be just so catty about it all. Like why are they cute and so stupid this is ridiculous why the Hell did we even take this case can they please take this seriously

- Charles and Reggie vibe. I don’t make the rules

- Flynn can’t see the boys either which naturally leads to hijinks

- Monty attends a concert (he deserves to have fun) and while I considered him being the link between the two groups I think it would be funnier if he decided to go to a concert and runs into them coincidentally

- Based on a precursory AO3 search I’ve seen some fics where Monty gets in trouble with Caleb which makes sense with the whole magic familiar angle but I’m not copying here so I won’t get into that

- I think Willie interacting with DBDA would be wild. Like. Dead pretty boy with a sense of humour and tragic backstory? They’re all swooning fr

- Niko (shhh) gets along with Julie and Flynn IMMEDIATELY like they are talking about shows and DIYing things together and it’s great

- Crystal gets along better/faster with Julie and Flynn with Niko present fs

- There’s at least one dance number with everyone involved

- possessed!Nick is still trying to woo Julie and not only do we get the Phantoms side eyeing him but now we get the DBDA just openly judging him (Crystal roasts the shit out of that fedora and she’s RIGHT)

- Crystal would decimate any of Carrie’s attempts at being bitchy so I think we have to redeem Carrie for that reason alone

- DBDA goes to a JATP concert and the boys are actually awful at vibing there. Like Crystal is relatively normal (idk if it’s her scene but she’s been to concerts before) but Edwin does not know what to do at a modern concert and Charles is used to a much different style of dancing/concerts (I don’t know enough abt aka punk to elaborate unfortunately but ykwim)

- girls night includes style swapping bc the DBDA girlies deserve some butterfly clips and the JATP girlies deserve some eyeliner

- in the nature of JATP I don’t think Caleb gets sent to hell in the end but I do think his ending needs to be ridiculous. Like have him get the Night Nurse treatment and get eaten by that fish so he can be redeemed by Kashi

- not to bring up Monty again but I think he sticks around and keeps up with the JATP crew more than the DBDA (he is not interested in any more of that Hell/monster energy and that’s so valid of him)

- montage of Edwin and Charles teaching the Phantoms ghost abilities (I can’t remember if/how they vary between shows but if so shhh or explain it away yk)

- Unseen Emily reprise and it’s all the boys mourning loved ones. Just for the feels.

- Actually just more backstories for everyone please

- Love ballad/slow song that Willex and/or Payneland dance to 🥰

- Palasaki being openly in love (which inspires whatever the Flynn x Carrie ship is bc I love them)

[panur]

Scary Witcher fics (Geraskier)

Last year i decided i would compile a mini list of some dark/spoopy Geraskier fic recs to share with the masses. In no particular order:

The Only One Who Resonates by crushcandles

"Did you really worry?" he asks, licking his lips.

Jaskier barely hears the question and it doesn't register. It doesn't matter. No matter what Geralt asks him, the answer is the same.

"Yes," he says, deep from his empty belly.

++++

with lilies and with laurels he goes by twelvemagpies

The day that Jaskier dies, Geralt wakes up to an almighty ringing in his ears.

++++

Fever Song by crushcandles

"What are you doing?" Geralt barks.

Jaskier freezes, knife in one hand, a long deep blue strip of fabric in the other.

"Cutting a ribbon," he says. He doesn't stutter, but his eyes are wide; he knows he might be doing something he’s not supposed to.

++++

Quiet by Funkspiel

But still, Geralt looked for a cure. He did not ask for forgiveness. He didn’t deserve it – not while Jaskier was still unable to say the words to pardon him for his wish. Wishes. How Geralt hated them, hated the word. His wish had driven Yennefer away. His wish had bound Jaskier to a life in which he could not do what he loved. Geralt didn’t deserve forgiveness. So he did not ask.

And then came the contract about the witches of the bog.

++++

Silver and Copper by Heronfem

From the shadows a man steps out, his feet soundless on the flagstones. He’s tall for a human, lanky, and dressed all in grays and blacks. His clothing is good but oddly threadbare, the embroidery standing out against the silk, and the collar is high on his deathly pale, sun deprived neck. He wears many rings on his fingers, and several necklaces tangle at his throat. Handsome, with nut brown hair with a bit of a curl to it, and a fine jaw and nose, but his eyes.

His eyes are horrible.

++++

haunt by theredtailedhawkwithjewelsforeyes

He is exhausted with the grief of it. He does not let himself feel, and he feels this anyways. Sharp, aching, unfair. The absence of a heartbeat.

++++

Echo by ravenbringslight

Jaskier was gathering his things and he wasn’t panicking. He’d known that Geralt was going to leave any day now like he always did, so that was no surprise, even if it hit him like a punch to the gut (he was familiar with Geralt’s punches to the gut and he could say with great authority that getting left behind again felt slightly worse). But he had enough money to get to Oxenfurt now and his headache was gone and the vomiting seemed to have been short-lived. Other than the whole “can’t speak without the pain of a thousand rusty knives” situation he was right as rain.

In the corner, the thing that looked like him winked.

++++  

Bloodhunger by SpinnerDolphin

“What do you need?” Jaskier asks, low. His heart stutters a little, and he firmly tells himself that this is his friend, and he is not afraid of his friend.

Geralt actually trembles. “I need to kill something,”

++++

a thousand voices by mrc2 (this one is actually a WIP but guys it’s SO disturbing i refuse to read it after dark)

“You scared me,” Jaskier said. “I didn’t see you there.”

The statue, as expected, didn’t reply. It was a strange place for a statue to be.

“Why are you here?” Jaskier asked slowly as he took a tentative step closer.

And to his horror, the statue simply smiled.

[wolfjackle-creates]

WIP Wednesday

Enjoy another snippet of the fic about ghost Robin haunting Jason! I really need to think up a title. Maybe I'll brainstorm some ideas and put out a poll to see what everyone likes.

Part 1 is here

And onto part 2 (1.2k words)!

-----

Looks like he was breaking his promise to Jazz to not do any ghostly business tonight. Of course Jazz’s boyfriend would be haunted by a ghost that needed help. Why was he even surprised? He adjusted the strap of his backpack to hold it more firmly. Hopefully something he’d brought would be enough and it’d be just a matter of getting Robin alone for a few minutes.

Jazz let go of Danny’s hand to take Jason’s as he led them down a hallway. Robin tightened his grip on Alfred before letting go and giving Danny a sad smile. Both Jason and Robin would point to objects and rooms as they passed. Danny paid extra attention to the items Robin pointed out that Jason ignored: a crack in the wall, a mark that had never been painted over, the chandelier he decided to hang from for a few seconds.

Voices echoed out of one of the upcoming rooms, and Jason slowed. Jazz leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Robin had the opposite reaction and shot a grin at Danny and flew to the doorway, waving him to come inside.

Danny couldn’t help but smile back at his obvious excitement. Jazz caught his expression and narrowed her eyes at him. Oh, she was not going to let this go.

With a deep breath, Jason entered the room, Jazz and Danny right behind him. “Hey everyone, this is Jazz’s brother Danny.”

Inside, too many people were gathered on a collection of chairs and couches. One man was sitting upside down on a chair, his feet on the back cushion and head inches from the ground. He grinned at them and did a flip that somehow ended with him on his feet and halfway across the room in the space of a breath. Robin cartwheeled to him.

“Hey, Danny, I’m Jason’s older brother Dick! Glad you could make it. Jazz says you’re always busy.” He held out his hand to shake, unknowingly passing it right through Robin.

Danny couldn’t help but look at where the arm passed through the ghost, but did have the wherewithal to shake Dick’s hand.

“Dick? You really use that by choice?” The words were out of his mouth before he could think. Embarrassed, he slapped his other hand over his mouth at the same time Jazz hissed a warning at him. “Shit! I mean—”

Only to be cut off by everyone laughing. Dick waved off his apology. “My parents were immigrants and it’s what they called me. After they died, I decided to stick with it. Don’t worry, I’ve heard all the jokes.”

“He’s made most of them, too,” added another black-haired boy. This one looked to be close to Danny’s age. “I’m Tim. We’re glad you could make it. Jazz mentioned you’re usually busy with work?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. But I spent the last few weeks making sure I could get tonight free with minimal chance of interruption.” Not that it worked, his eyes flicked to Robin who was now hugging Bruce Wayne, the only person of the bunch he recognized on sight. And, what was that feeling radiating off Bruce Wayne? It was like liminality, but not quite. Had he died?

“Welcome to my home, Danny,” Bruce Wayne stood and came over to shake his hand with a wide grin on his face. “I’m Bruce and these are my kids.”

“Oi! Don’t call me your kid!” protested a blonde girl. “Hey there, I’m Steph and I’m just here for the food and to give Jason a hard time.” She also felt strange. Not a ghost, but the touch of death lingered. What sort of family had Jazz gotten involved in?

The rest of the group introduced themselves. Both Damian and Cass were liminal as well. So, out of the ten people he’d met tonight, three of them had died and two were as liminal as Sam, Tucker, and Jazz.

Completely ignoring the fact that Danny was trying to come to terms with all the death in what was supposed to be a normal rich family, Robin was doing even more antics to get his attention. He greeted Dick just as warmly as he had Bruce and Alfred. Cass, Tim, and Damian were the other three he seemed to like the most, though they didn’t get hugs. He didn’t react at all to Steph or Duke. He sat on Barbara’s lap for a minute, too, before returning to Dick’s side.

No one noticed the ghost desperate for their attention. Not even Jazz.

Barbara took the time to point out where the drinks were located and Danny looked over the selection of pop before grabbing a coke. He closed his eyes at the satisfying sound of the tab opening and sighed at the first taste.

One of the boys laughed and said, “You’re acting like you haven’t had a coke before.”

“Nope. I’m acting like I love coke and haven’t had any pop at all in ages.” He plopped down on a couch next to Jazz who ruffled his hair.

“Have you been traveling that long?”

Danny shrugged. “How long ago was our last phone call?”

“You don’t remember? Last week.”

“Grandpa had me doing favors for him. He dropped me off this morning.”

Jazz huffed in the way that indicated she was very annoyed. But it’s not like Danny could just not do the things Clockwork asked of him. Besides, his most recent trip was fun. He’d gone to another planet! He couldn’t wait until he could tell Jazz all about it.

Jason looked at them curiously. “You’ve never mentioned a grandfather before, Jazz.”

“Oh, he’s not really our grandfather. Just someone who helped Danny out once and decided to stick around. They’ve gotten close over the past few years. He’s fond of me, too, but we don’t have the same relationship.”

“Grandpa’s great. If infuriating at times. But favors for him are always interesting.”

“Next time feel free to invite him,” offered Bruce.

The image of Clockwork in Wayne Manor caused Danny to snort into his coke. ��I don’t think he’d fit in here,” was all he said. Though maybe Robin would appreciate another ghostly visitor.

Dick did a cartwheel and landed upside down on an armchair. “What, too uptight for the likes of us?”

The last prank he and Clockwork had played on the Observants played in his mind and he smiled wider. “Not at all. You just come from different worlds.”

“I’ll have you know I grew up on the streets in Crime Alley.”

“I was a circus performer.”

“I was raised a rich kid through and through, but I hardly spend times in the upper echelons of society.”

“My dad’s in prison.”

“I’m a librarian.”

“I’m a foster kid.”

Danny held a hand up and laughed. They were still from different worlds, but he couldn’t explain he meant Earth versus the Infinite Realms. “I get it, I get it. I’ll let him know next time.”

“If he’s still in the area, you should invite him,” said Dick. “Alfred’s food is to die for.” Robin was hanging upside down next to Dick nodding solemnly.

Danny tried to stop himself, he really did. He even managed to keep from saying he’d been there done that, but he couldn’t keep from laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.

-----

Part 3

And for the tag list!

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

Growing pains

Summary: How did Jeff and Rio feel knowing Miles was sneaking out with a girl?

Jeff's rant became background noise as she lifted the sweater in confusion.

It wasn't Miles, not just because it wasn't his size (she had needed to buy so many new clothes with his growth spur that she would know) but it was...feminine, she could even smell faintly some perfume.

Whoever left it was using it recently.

"-Babe are you backing me up in this one or what?" 

Rio snapped back to reality as she felt her husband's hand on her shoulder, he looked at her still kind of upset yet more curious as to why she hasn't moved from that spot.

"Jeff, where is this from?" She asks immediately, not paying attention to whatever he has been insisting on her.

Arching an eyebrow, he didn't look too much into the item before shrugging with disinterest "I don't know, I normally let him choose whatever he wants as long as the price is okay; a better question is why his room is such a mess, maybe we should ground him an extra month for that-"

"Jeff" She called him again, trying to distract him from his authoritative-dad ideas "This isn't his, it has to belong to a girl."

The moment the word 'girl' came out of her mouth he seemed even more puzzled. Giving an actual look at the item from his wife's hands, he was trying to remember if he has seen it before "Does it belong to one of your nieces maybe?"

"I didn't remember seeing any of them using this, why it would be here anyways? We let the guest put their coats in the entrance, and I don't think either Ana or Camila would just leave this in Miles's bed for no reason."

As they both realized they couldn't recall anyone who could have this sweater, finally the other possible explanation popped into their minds. Not because it wasn't obvious, but more like-

"Is this happening now? It isn't too soon?"

"No, no no no, no way that boy brought a girl to our house, to his room, all while he is grounded." Just as quickly, Jeff was getting worked out again about this outrage.

Miles comes late (again,) with cakes that are falling apart, refuses to talk to them, and now he is hearing how he left his room to be with a girl?

Rio couldn't believe it either.

"This can't be right- He is too young to think of that!" She replied in disbelief.

She felt her husband's gaze rest on her as she stopped looking at the item (who could belong to? Maybe one of Miles's old friends from the neighborhood? As far she knew he stopped hanging out with everyone around here,) and saw the face Jeff always puts when he isn't sure how to tell her something.

"What?"

And her snappier response didn't seem to make him more confident about saying it.

"I mean- Look, don't get me wrong, we are both on the same side here" He prefaces, he needed to reserve all his energy to think how to get to that boy's skull that he couldn't do whatever he wanted, not to mention that when Rio got angry even he got scared. "But, he is fifteen honey."

"Yeah! A baby!"

"Well, not so baby, I mean at his age I was-"

The pointed look of Rio was all the information he needed to know he SHOULDN'T end that sentence.

"What I am trying to say, is that he is getting to a certain age mi amor, we cannot stop that."

Rio's shoulders fell, realizing how tense she was getting and this wasn't even going into how disobedient her son has been getting lately. As she looked towards the room (which was indeed a mess,) she saw the toys laying around, notebooks of old drawings pilled over the new ones that show his progress, she could almost see him as a toddler running around with a cape.

That felt like it was yesterday.

And now she had the sweater of a girl she doesn't know in her hands, in Miles' room.

Where did her little boy go?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Since the Wip poll won, I decided to post this little thing that was actually, my first fic for this fandom.

I never got to publish it because it was missing two other scenes, but I decided to scrap it since the third one felt a bit too crazy, so I would do that idea for another thing.

So now while this is technically not a wip, I decided to publish it since I don't have any works in progress I can give sneak peaks for now.

Thanks for reading!

[oceanlipgloss]

ICING ON THE CAKE

LEVIATHAN.

+ warnings: implicit suggestive themes, light angst, strong language.

+ female mc, feminine pronouns.

Is cold sugar a thing?

Some souls are like iced sugar. No objective, sane person would ever say—or so much as think, for that matter—that this man is sweet.

‘How the fuck could he be?’

That’s what they would wonder.

And they were right in that.

There are times, however, when a cold shoulder summons a sugar rush. Playing hard-to-get can be a cool game. Except, this man wasn’t doing that. That coldness, that scorn, it was crafted from something bitter.

A dark past.

Did they know? That he, too, had once upon a time been an innocent child—a pretty, clueless creature holding its bloated heart with small hands, showing everyone its tears.

Very early. He had gotten corrupted by life much too early. That’s why he had become so icy.

Actually...he could be sweet as well, in a sense.

She remembered the jewel in her wet palm. Its sparkle was once dimmed with his blood. He had risked his soul to keep a promise, to protect a gem.

Warmth is something he did possess.

But to believe he would not die, to have faith that he could not be killed...

How so very arrogant of him.

Then again, is childhood's darkness not to blame? Had it not told him that he would always survive? Had it not whispered temptations of immortality in his ears and promised him that he would never die?

Beauty makes some people feel like their head is underwater. It cuts out everything else in the brain for a minute. Snide beauty, on the other hand, it has even greater charms still.

The coldness is just icing on the cake.

Being beautiful is marvellous, but being unapproachable makes it even better, that much greater.

Lovely faces bring about good deals. Ethereal existences often tend to get away with many things. Molten hearts. Broken brains. Filthy souls. Violent murder.

It would be too boring if beautiful kings were easy to have. Enchanting someone like him and bringing him to his knees, why should it even be a piece of cake?

Forget the pleasure of a challenge.

He was a rare, most alluring specimen. He should be very difficult—near impossible—to reach. Taking hold of his fingertips alone should be treacherous.

One has to try hard to get even the most simple of things, so why should luring him in be easy?

Excited for the wait, burning for the process, desperate for the result.

So ironic, so fun.

Winning him over would not merely be a magical experience, but an ultimate, legendary accomplishment; she would try until his tongue on her lips marked them forever, until his sweat on her body shimmered like stardust.

Oh, but he already wanted her. Lust and attraction just turned into problem killers. Apparently, she wouldn’t have to wait that long, or even try that much.

+notes: the time for the last of my surviving ‘What in “Hell” is Bad?’ WIPs to take the stage has come. I don't quite know what I had in mind for this one, to be honest; it's been there for so long and has been really bothering me with its static presence for a while. And seeing that I had no clue about the direction it's meant to take, I finally decided to polish it a little, toss some word-vomit in, and simply put it up as is. It was either that or it's dead. I chose to salvage it, I guess. I thought it had potential and didn't want it to bid the world goodbye, yet I didn't know how I felt about it at first, though, and I'm too lazy and tired to find out—so it's whatever, I suppose lol but I think I like it. I'm just glad to have it off my hands and out of my notes because it was genuinely pricking my nerves :S

There are still a few more ‘What in “Hell” is Bad?’ WIPs each is only 1 line/2 lines long lol that I long ago scratched out of the equation, and those are annoying me very much too. I may either kill them off with regret (for some) and cold blood (for others), or post them someday soon/with time, but that's very unlikely. For now, however, I do not plan on writing anything new about the game's devils/angels—meaning unless I explicitly state in the notes within a ‘What in “Hell” is Bad?’ piece that an idea is new/recent, it's one of my old, buried WIPs revived and made into a finished fic.

[spoiler] also, this fic holds light inspiration from Leviathan's 'Bloodshed' story, particularly from the part in which Leviathan gives MC the magical jewel and it's implied that he got wounded so as to protect the jewel and keep his promise of gifting it to MC.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[saviinika]

Just a boy standing in front of a boy

Last WIP wednesday before @codywanweek and I'm eeeeeeeeee with excitement. The clip is from a hurt/comfort fic; Cody is hurt, and Obi-Wan is leaving him voice journals so he doesn't feel like he's missed anything while in the bacta tank. Because that's what totally platonic colleagues humans do for one another.

---

“Is now a good time to tell you that as a result of my year with the Duchess during my Padawan days, Iam fluent in Mando’a? I suppose better late than never, really. I apologize for deceiving you and your brothers for so long, or making it seem like there was a necessity for private conversations around me. It was certainly never my intent; it just never seemed like a good time to tell you, especially when many of the topics of discussion were clearly not meant for my ears. I can’t say I blame you for the cold shoulder you gave both her and I during our whole escort fiasco evading Death Watch. I should have been more open about my pre-existing relationship with her. Hmm. That’s not the right phrasing. ‘Historical relationship’, perhaps. And yes, though she did say she loved me, and at one time I thought I had loved her, I would have been miserable had I stayed with her like I wanted when I was eighteen. You make my life so much brighter, my dear. I don’t think I would be a very likeable man had we never met.”

“You know, I did like Boil’s treatise on why all Jedi should have retractible cords around their wrists to better keep track of their lightsabers. I’ll be honest, for all my repeatedly reminding Anakin and Ahsoka to hold onto theirs, I think mine has decided to run away on purpose because it likes you, darling. There’s certainly no other logical reason why I lose it so often or why it always makes its way into your hands. Kyber crystal, which makes up the heart of every Jedi’s saber, is a Force-sensitive material and as such, exceedingly rare. Jedi do not choose the crystal that powers their sabers; the crystal, or crystals, choose them. And mineseems to have chosen you too. Forgive my chuckle, it’s just that every time you return it, my crystal is humming the most pleasing song. So you see, I’m afraid the evidence is strongly in your favour. Perhaps I should consider letting you train with it. You’re brilliant, and eminently capable, so basic Soresu wouldn’t be hard to pass on. If you’re going to keep finding it, you might as well be able to wield it effectively in your own defence.”

“There’s some sort of commotion happening with Rex and your Clone Force 99. You really will have to tell me the story some day of how you managed to ensure the loyalty of those four vode. They seem so far removed from your preferred method of warfare, although honestly, you did have to get your penchant for taking on BD-1s with your fists from somewhere. Anyway, Anakin is leaving with them shortly and Kix did let me go to bid them farewell under Mace’s heavy-handed supervision. To my surprise, he commented that I was looking rested and better fed. I suppose if the Master of the Order could tell that I was wearing myself too thinly, perhaps I wasn’t doing as good a job at muddling through as I thought. Oh, Helix is here now and he wants you to know that he scoffed at me for saying that. He also says that he finds these voice notes I’m making for you ador— No, I am not telling him that. Sorry for being overly familiar there, my dear. It’s hard to do this with an audience.”

[darkkitty1208]

on fic writing and fandom: where am i going forward?

So. It's a bloody dull Friday and I'm writing this post--have been meaning to, for a while--because I can't stop thinking about it. It's just a few (a lot, actually) thoughts I've had in my mind the past few days that I've decided to spill into a single post, which turned out far longer than it needed to be, but nothing too important. Under the cut.

I've been a fanfic writer for a while now. Not a long time by any means, but a while nonetheless. My first fic--which is now orphaned like a few of its brothers for undisclosed reasons, though if you're an og you might be able to guess why--was dated back to the 18th of November 2021. 3 years later and I've got a humble 89 works and counting (the orphaned works and unposted wips unincluded). I can safely say I've improved quite a lot since then.

Where are you going with this, then, Kitty? Surely you aren't here just to brag about your writing progress?

Well. Not exactly. But I'll start with this: I guess what I'm trying to say is I've lost the spark.

You know. The old feeling. That boost of serotonin you get after you finish a piece you're proud of, or when you get lovely reviews on ao3, or when you get a kudos email, or a new mutual, or some wild tags under your silly post. The spark. I haven't felt it in a long time, now. The last time it's been so palpable was... I'm not sure. Probably last year's October. That was a lot of fun. I was most prolific in fic writing, that year. It shouldn't feel like a long time ago. Because it wasn't.

Don't get me wrong. I love all this. All that's going on right now. The comments I'm getting--even if fewer than I had before--and all the other interactions, I appreciate and enjoy and love them so, so much. And writing my newer fic projects are well exciting. But it just isn't the same anymore. I'm afraid it never will be.

(Maybe it has something to do with the lack of interactions lately. Maybe? I don't really know, either. I'm sure we're all well aware the fandom is past its peak, and with the current developments in the MCU I am frankly unsurprised, but I dunno.)

I guess that's part of the reason I've been less active lately. I've been inactive as a whole this year, admittedly, and disappearing far too often for far too long (and I notice some of my friends are, too). I just didn't get the same joy from being in a fandom like I had when I first started this blog, or my ao3 account.

In hindsight, I've probably been a little too dependent on fandom to provide me serotonin. The past few years have been hard, the years before that, too. Life just keeps kicking me in the arse time and time again. I guess I've been using fandom and fic writing as a coping mechanism, and once I've had my fill, the joy dies off to something a little more dull. Like a gum I've been chewing for too long that the sweetness has since worn off.

Honestly? I don't want it to be this way. I want to live without being so dependent on my presence online. I want to live without only knowing joy through internet interactions. I've got to learn to. It sounds silly, but it's true. (I think I may be slightly chronically online, oh no. x'D)

So naturally my first instinct is to distance myself a little. I contemplated quitting, but I can't do that. I don't see myself ever doing that, no matter how many times my brain convinces me that I might.

When this year started, I had set some goals for writing. One of them was to write for more whumptober prompts than I did last year or complete them all. I did like 21 prompts or something last year. Of 31. Within a little more than a month. While still balancing all the life stuff I had going on. This is, if not obvious, an extremely ambitious goal. I am not insane. I don't know what I was thinking. I can't possibly do that now, can I? Not with all the stuff that's been happening.

...

Can I?

...

Yeah, no. Definitely not.

See, that's another thing: writing. Probably the thing I'm trying to get at in this post but otherwise derailed completely from. Fuck my brain.

I'm sure many of you have noticed that I've been writing significantly less. I still post, obviously, but not as much as like, last year when the number of works I had went from a few to far too much. That had helped me improve quite a lot, actually, but those days I barely slept because I just insisted to replace my sleep time with Writing Shit For The Gays. It was pretty unhealthy now that I look back at it. My sleep schedule is still shit now but, yk. Some things just never change.

I was really, really caught up on wanting to be good at writing. Like, really good. I wanted to make awesome things. I wanted to write like a real fucking pro. Like all the more popular fandom authors I look up to. I want to be like the big dogs in fandom. It sounds so silly. I did everything; sprinting daily, setting a minimum of 500 words writing sessions every day, trying new writing styles, churning out works after works, writing for prompts and events and gifts and the like. I was enjoying it, yes, but was it really something I did for myself? Or was it because I wanted to please other people or impress other people for their validation, which is something I'm entirely too dependent of? Was it for the numbers?

Well. It was more for that than for me, I realised a little too late.

So yeah. Fuck wanting to be good. I want to write for the hell of it. I want to write something that's for me. Not what the majority of the fandom or other people want to read, but for me. Which is why I absolutely loved writing works like just a matter of time, how to kill a god, or how to become a god, because they're not meant for other people but myself. (Ironically that last work is a gift but, yk. I still liked it.) I know I joke about self-projecting a lot, but it's been seriously helping me rediscover the joy of writing that doesn't come from the incessant need to be good or perfect or focus on producing more and more and more. It makes me feel like a kid again. Also, I'm only realising this now but I'd rather get like 5 people who enjoy reading my works so much and express them to me rather than 100 people who silently thumbs up at me and then go away to consume another fic or demand more. (All this to say I still love interactions, it just shouldn't be my no. 1 priority to get them when writing fanfics.)

But yeah. None of those works are perfect. They're not meant to be. But they're mine. They're me. They represent me. And it's so, so great to feel that in writing. I've been so stuck up on being some sort of content machine. I'm doing this for myself, how could I forget? I've been saying this since the beginning, I don't know why I'm still struggling to do it. God. It's ridiculous.

Anyway. That's that. This has become a very long ramble. Thank you for listening to my Ted Talk. And for letting me waste your time, if you make it to the end of this post.

[scrunglepaws]

Tried to fit all my fic ideas on one page, but I still forgot some because they're like... scrawled on random pieces of paper all over my house/in different notebooks/ect. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I tried!

The little branchy-offy things are prequels/sequels of that particular series. Bleeped out things I thought might be spoiler-y to ongoing series. Things with * are super WIP-y titles because I dunno what to call them.

More ramblings under the cut! (Nothing spoilery for the ongoing series; just vague things!)

No Heroes Zone // - I have a lot more generalized worldbuilding, character notes, ect than actual stories. The story ideas are mostly vague/short... Though, I suppose I could stand to write some super short fics. - The exception is an angsty sonighty fic that's basically done, but I just have to fill in all the inbetween, connecty bits. And decide how sonighty-y I really want to go with it. That ship came outta nowhere, I tell ya. - NHZ is really mostly Tails (and Metal) angst, tho. The other day I was thinking about how he tries to latch onto Shadow and even Metal in the absence of having Sonic and was like "Wow, Tails, clingy much? What are you, Nine???" then I felt really bad. T-T; He just misses his brother...!

Kaleidoscope // - The name of this fic is based on an art piece I've been wanting to do for forever: A kaleidoscope of Tails/Nine/Mangey, looking at each other and seeing them each from their own perspective. Because that's the theme of the whole story, funky scifi weirdness aside. But uh, 1) didn't have a decent digital art program for a bit and 2) I'm not good enough at drawing the subtle differences in their appearances to really make it hit how I wanted. Also 3) Tails looks basically the same to all three of them, lmao. - "Mangey Remembers" is Mangey's backstory and "Loneliness*" is... Less of a backstory for Nine, more of a brief showcase of his character in general. Because we already know Nine's whole deal from canon. Same reason Tails doesn't have a backstory- he's supposed to be canon Tails. - "Starless Sky" and "Ruination*" are both poteeeential sequels, but I'm not set on doing them. Ruination would just be a short, noncanon "what if?" bad ending for the heck of it.

Someplace AU (Aquarius) // - Also halfway calling it Aquarius for now because I ended up continuing the first part of the story under that fic name.

- It was originally more focused on Sails, hence Someplace being a play on No Place. But now it's about equally Kit and Sails. I ended up getting SO MANY effing ideas for these dudes, man. ;w;

- "Hollow Existence*" isn't a specific story, but just a sprinkling of scenes/backstory bits that detail why Kit is the way he is. Mostly his relationship with Surge growing up.

- "Sails' Tales" is likewise a collection of random Sails backstory bits. I have a lot more specific/fleshed out things for him, though. BUDDY, did I have fun with the No Place lore. Also, his relationships with Catfish and Black Rose are so cute... ;A;

- The bits to the right are basically going to be chapters in Aquarius. They're vague enough not to be spoilery (other than the blipped ones...)

- "=D?" is a sequel that I'm very excited about. Probably shouldn't say much beyond that.

Everything Else // - CaveTails is a Journey to the Center of the Earth-esque silly, silly thing. That could maybe become a bit more serious? BAsically, I was thinking "Huh, kind of weird that my main kittails fic is with Sails. That'd be funny if I did ones with Nine and Mangey, too. Just for the lulz. Especially the Mangey one." This is the Mangey one. xD Except he's sort of like... Tails AND Mangey at the same time, character-wise? So? :? Also, potentially some wholesome Sonic+Tails moments because I weirdly haven't written any of those yet.

- "Kids" is just a continuation of that goofy Tails Doll+Cream oneshot. Just small ideas for another chapter or two. Cute friendship, fluff, and lots of comfort to make up for the hurt in the first chapter. :3;;

- "Alien*" is what it says on the tin. I have a couple different ideas for how it could go. One of them boots out Silver entirely and had Metal in his place. xD But I might have enough material to write an alien Silver AND alien Metal fic. We'll see whenever I get around to it. :3

- "Nine's Shadow*" is something I've wanted to write ever since I made that joke oc, Stales the Fox aka Zombie Tails variant from the Grim. Probably just a oneshot (or a few short chapters) fic that mostly focuses on Nine being "all alone" after the ending of Sonic Prime.

- "Why is Babies?*" is the second idea I had for a fic. It's just Shadow being awkward and not knowing how to look after a chunk of the main cast that are suddenly tots for unknown reasons. It's very lighthearted, comedic, and cute. Originally a Shadow+Metal fic until I learned more about Eclipse and just HAD to include him. Dude is literally a struggling single parent in canon, how could I not include him in a story about his brother going through something similar? xD Also, I might call this fic "Rascals" as a reference to that one Star Trek episode with a similar premise. Because! Star Trek. 8D

- "The Fifth Element" ... I have put off posting anything about this fic idea for so long because I'm EMBARRASSED IT'S SO STUPID AND CORNY DON'T LOOK AT ME,,, In case you're totally lost, the 1997 film of the same name is my. Favorite movie. So naturally, this was my first idea for a fic. It's so all-over-the-place tonally, though. Obviously, got a LOT of silly, especially the parts that follow the movie almost exactly. But I also added a lot of original bits that help flesh out the characters' relationships. The protag is Shadow, who is very, very soft and introspective in it. Which, like, how did that happen??? But I love it. Metal is his co-lead and is mostly goofy because he's a fish out of water. Sonic is VERY, VERY goofy like goddamn (he's Ruby Rod- if you know, you know). Then there's just the silliest shit ever like Silver. Silver is Shadow's cat. It's stupid, but it's also fun, and maybe even matters to the plot. You don't know. Blaze is the president. Dr. Starline, Surge, Eggman, and The End are in it. Tails has the smallest part of any of my fics, but I think I cast him well. I need to stop now or I never will. Don't look at me. xDD

~

But yeah, as I said, I forgot a lot of other ideas. A few more (still forgetting some, I'm sure): - "Creature from the Black Lagoon" ft. kittails - Steam Powered Giraffe-vibes 50's thing w/ Tails, Cream, and automatons of Kit, Surge, Metal, Belle, Gemerl, ect - Tails Doll trying to be a Real Boy(tm) - Kittails-focused folklore AU with Kit as a kelpie and Tails as a normal mobian. Bunch of other people as fae creatures and villagers, including Starline as the main villain. - Maybe a whispangle oneshot from the above au (Tangle is a mobian, Whisper is. basically a magic wolf? xD) - Knuckles/Tails role-swap

[artists-ally]

{Train Wreck} HUGE UPDATE!!!!!

~~~~~

OKAY. LISTEN. IM BRINGING IT BACK. I'M BRINGING THIS SERIESS BAAAAAACK. It has been far too long since I have updated it. I know. I'm sorry my loves. Thank you to everyone who has kept asking about it, I haven't forgotten it. I promise.

So, what does this mean? I am going to take down the current parts for this series and revamp them a little, give them a bit of a makeover. I know exactly what I want this series to be now, and with the way the first two chapters are, I can't make it work. Don't be alarmed when you see them gone from my masterlist, they will be back.

I know I have a couple other WIP's y'all are waiting on, a lot of requests, but this is all I want to write right now. So deal with it 😭

I have decided I'm going to kinda go balls to the wall here on Tumblr and only allow myself to write one series or one fic at a time. I cannot have multiple projects open at once, I get incredibly burnt out trying to have so many ideas, and it's just not good for me. So, for the foreseeable future, I will be writing for Train Wreck and Train Wreck only. I hope you all will understand.

I will be finishing this series, as well as my She Gets The Flowers, Right? for Lucien. Just going through my masterlist one by one and making sure everything is completed before I start anything new.

BUUUUUT, I am beyond excited to start this series again. I went through it today on google docs and thought to myself "why did I ever stop writing? This is fucking brilliant." I absolutely adore Ira and Cassian's story, and what eventually will become Azriel and Ira's next. Just be patient, I promise I will bring this series to the next level. Again, thank you for all the support on this series and my other fics, I haven't forgotten them. I have taken a much needed break from posting on here, but I am back. And I am so ready to do this.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

kdnfb's Ten Years of Fanfiction Mania

Featuring: Unmasked

Summary: Written under an Anonymous pseudonym ~M~ to fill the following prompt ~ Historical Katniss and Peeta hate each other. They attend a masquerade ball and for some reason end up kissing each other. Sparks fly everywhere. Katniss tries to find the man behind the mask but Peeta knows it was Katniss though he doesnt say anything. They end up bethrothed even if they 'despise' each other. How they fall in love is up to u and how katniss figured out it was peeta is up to u

Rating: E for explicit sexual content, explicit language, implied/referenced rape/nonconsensual (not everlark), implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced suicide, implied/referenced miscarriage, discussions of illness, war, and injury in a historical setting, ptsd, minor character death. They worst of these tags happens offscreen and is merely discussed and dealt with rather than shown here.

A/N: ~Unmasked~ is my longest fic in terms of word count (around 234k), although Outside Chance and Spellbound are not too far behind and are both incomplete. Unmasked started as something meant to be fun and cathartic, then turned into a ridiculously long and self indulgent fic that I still, to this day, have no idea if the anonymous person who submitted the prompt to @everlarkficexchange even read, let alone whether or not they liked it. But I love what I produced for this fic.

Why write it anonymously and only reveal myself later? A couple reasons. 1) Historical is not my wheel house. At least not writing it. I am a shameless consumer of historical romances. I did some research for this fic but not nearly the level I would've liked to have done. Eventually, I said screw it, it's about the vibes not the accuracy. 2) I had a pile of unfinished wips when I started this, to include Outside Chance and Spellbound (both of which are still unfinished hmmmmm) and I really didn't want a lot of questions about when I was going to get back to those while I was working on this because 3) I'd just gone through a small slice of writerly hell to the point that I seriously considered deleting my entire tumblr and all of my fanfic. Details are not important right now, the result is. That's probably the closest I've ever come to calling myself done with fandom.

Then this prompt posted to EFE and wouldn't leave me alone. Eventually, I decided that if I was going to write it, I wanted to write it with as little pressure as possible. So I chose to write and post it as ~M~ until it was finished. Plus, I thought it might make it fun for people other than me if there was a bit of mystery behind it. And I don't regret doing that.

Writing behind a mask allowed me to be as long winded and self-indulgent as I wanted to without worrying about how tight the storyline was or how accurate the historical details were, or wondering if I'd be walking into my tumblr and a barrage of the kind of messages I'd come to dread receiving. The only thing I worried about, really was if the amount and kind of smut I included gave me away prematurely lmao.

While this was my first real foray into the realm of historical fics, I am hoping it's not the last. I've got too many ideas and half started pieces to back out of it now. But those, like this one, will probably remain untethered to a specific real place, and a specific time, mainly because I just don't have that kind of time for research if I'm not getting paid to do it lol. They will be works of love if not works of accuracy.

Unmasked on AO3