#a wip makes it out of the drafts yay

[gisachi]

Twenty Words: Shinichi/Ran

Drawing inspiration from prompt challenges. Twenty prompts, twenty sentences of twenty words each. Fluff and angst. Pairing, ShinRan.

Dominant - “What do you mean? We’re not competing,” Shinichi laughs, licking his lips, “We’re in love, ‘course I’ll let you lead.”

Wartime - He reaches for her hand despite every resisting muscle under the armor — after all, how dare he aid the enemy?

Sleep - The tranquilizing dart is ready behind his back, then she says, “Don’t you dare, Shinichi… let me finish for once.”

Pattern - Whenever he returns, she doesn’t say ‘You’re back’ — for a tiresome pattern of two years, he never is, never was.

Discipline - “On your knees, Shinichi,” Ran glares and Shinichi bites back a menacing smirk, taking that as reward more than punishment.

Outcome - The worst combo - murder case during a long-awaited anniversary date - leaves him with the worst outcome: Ran’s week-long silent treatment.

Champion - Shinichi champions himself as a smart man, but Ran somehow manages to dumb him down everytime she smiles like that.

Waste - “It’s not wasted time if spent with people you love…” Shinichi glances at Ran, ears red, his words fading shyly.

Hidden - ‘Wait for me’ — hidden in Shinichi’s study, she reminisces the ten-year-old plea, forlorn smile confirming her final answer to Araide.

Award - To Shinichi, it isn’t the trophy that matters most, but Ran’s grin of victory from the bleachers everytime he scores. 

Book - Shinichi can read Ran like an open book - god he wished he couldn’t - because he’s down to the last page.

VCR - Ran smiles, a wistful one, before playing the cassette, a ‘96 news recording, “See, that’s your dad right there, Sakura-chan.”

Mob - She goes past the mob into the source of commotion, stunning Shinichi and the knife-wielding culprit with a roundhouse kick.

Speech - A declaration of love, a fearless kiss – Shinichi’s always one for dramatic flair, and tonight, he jumps off a cliff.

Sinner - Maybe he shouldn’t stay here, wrapped in the arms of an Angel, for sinners like him don’t deserve hundredth chances.

Immortality - Count Shinichi clutches at the faded photograph, and weeps – to live another century without this woman is his death sentence.

Girlfriend - “What if I stop calling you my girlfriend…” before Ran can react, Shinichi’s on one knee, a ring in hand.

Shaking - Ran thought nothing could scare him, until a shaking hand grips hers after the dentist chirps, “This won’t hurt, Kudou-kun!”

Westbound - Of the many times they’ve visited Osaka, they arrive with hands entwined this time, and Heiji and Kazuha are thrilled.

Holiday - May 4th isn’t a holiday, but she leaves work early anyway; otherwise, nobody will light the candles on his grave.

[mousydentist]

baby? dom? kim? YES GIMME 😻😻

TY FOR THE ASK EEEEEE OK so i only have literally like 100 words in my doc ab this but omg i think ab dom kim so much. i have a tumblr draft ab it that i forgot ab til right now 😭 but basically, kim who always felt like his sexual desires were a shameful result of his violent upbringing, and like, his family works in like sex club/toys business so hes aware that there are people who enjoy both sides of s and m but he always thought that 1. he was the exception to it being normal and healthy and 2. he would never be so close to someone to have the trust required for that kind of relationship. and once he did try, found someone at a club owned by the minor family, and it went Poorly. they hadnt really talked about preferences and kim is much stronger than he looks, and the person safeworded almost immediately and it just reinforced the idea that he was Too Much for bdsm to be ok for him to participate in. and then he meets chay, and number 2 kinda goes out the window. a year into their reconciliation kim trusts chay more than he has anyone in his life, and when chay brings up maybe being into it, kim lowkey freaks out. because he doesnt want to hurt chay, and has he made chay feel like he wants to hurt him? and what if he does something wrong and he doesnt want to want to hurt chay but he does and- and- and chay just kinda like talks him down and is like ok. so. we’re gonna talk about this and figure out what do to. and they do (yay communication!) and kim is like i really wanna hurt you and it scares me and chay is like then do it scared cause i want you to hurt me. and kim is like !!!!

and this is the only thing i have written for it so here’s kim being really nervous:

“Is this okay?” Kim had to ask again.

“Fuck,” Chay said with a choked sob, making Kim freeze.

“What?”

“Please.”

“Is something wrong?” Kim asked, hands poised to take the rope off Chay’s wrist. “What-“

“Fucking stick it in already!” Chay practically screamed at him.

Kim blinked for a second, then he felt his dick twitch. Oh. Ok.

He laid a slap down on Chay’s ass, making him let out a surprised yelp. “Watch your tone with me,” Kim tangled his fingers in Chay’s hair and pulled, then leaned in to spit the next word right into his ear. “Slut.”

Kim was nearly shaking when Chay let out a string of garbled noises, which he now knew was a good reaction.

(ask ab my wips!)

[the-angriest-author]

Writeblr intro

Hallooo..

not sure if I'm doing this right... tbh, idek what to put on here. Anyhow, I've been writing for about two years now (YAY!!). I mostly write poetry although as I write this most of my posts are short stories of the fantasy variety. I like reading swoon-worthy romances so if you write anything that makes me blush and kick my feet like the teenage girl I am, I will follow you and maybe stalk all your posts. If you are the grammar police I must warn you that you will be forced to arrest me after reading my posts (I'M WORKING ON IT, not really tho).

I've been on Tumblr for idk how long but I keep ghosting the app (Life and whatnot) I'm craving community, especially with fellow authors, maybe ones with more writing experience (I am a newbiiieee). Guys... I swear I won't ghost again 🤭.

And here are all my labels for all my lovely people:

She/Her

WOC

Queer (bi or pan idek man this sexuality shit aint for the weak of heart)

Retired Stoner (Moved to a place where I can't smoke)

Raging bitch (Moved to a place where I can't smoke)

Capricorn Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Capricorn Rising (Raging Bitch)

Not actually a raging bitch, just think it's funny (Please like me)

ADHD (Prone to run on sentences and overusing parentheses)

Chronically misunderstood (Capricorn)

Very Annoying (Sagittarius Moon)

Certifiably Woo-Woo (Hence the astrology references)

Not Funny (I think I'm hilarious and spent 5 minutes straight laughing at this little section)

Current WIPS

To The Stranger Who Stumbles ~ A collection of poetry written during a time of my life when I was experiencing some intense change and coming to terms with certain childhood events that were... not so fun.

Genre: Poetry

Word Count: 5953

Stage: Beta Reading (message me if ur interested)

The Mad ~ Mildred the Mad and her crew of dangerous and mythical women are charged with kidnapping and delivering the Seelie Prince to the Unseelie kingdom. But with every plan comes complications, some in the form of brooding king's guards.

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Action

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Found Family

Current Word Count: 4434

Stage: ROUGH DRAFT and planning

P.S. My messages are open! Let's connect!

Published Works

The Hidden (w)Hole of a Heart ~ Literally my whole heart shat out onto paper. But seriously tho it's available on Amazon now and I would appreciate any support. In actuality, it's a story about a young woman (Yours Truly) coming to terms with her deeply feeling nature and Depression. The poems describe the heaviness of emptiness and the overwhelmingness of intense emotions.

Excerpts:

Haunted House

Feelings stick to my walls like ghosts,

How is an exorcism performed on a memory?

How do I let them pass through me?

An Apology to The Crone

Pressing my tiny fleshy palms to my ears,

I refused to hear the wisdom of the crone.

Her voice was scratchy with use,

As she warned me of my journey.

I’d close my eyes with every disaster.

The niggling feeling would whisper a wrong,

And I’d pray to God my feet were swift,

So, they could carry me away.

I’d refuse to harden,

Reasoning that beauty is only found in the soft.

I waited to be taken by my knight.

I never cared that the gleam in her armor was an illusion.

I stand unprepared for the cruel world.

Preserved in my maidenhood.

Having grown tired of disobedience, 

The crone has abandoned me.

Only now do I see the clarity of your wisdom,

I will forever be sorry.

A Terrible High

on occasion

there are quiet moments

where minds begin to fill blanks

when small things grow

rock to boulder

smashing me against the ground

flat

nothing 

2D

I’m nonexistent.

If I were nonexistent

the boulder would simply blow through

and I’d be nothing.

And I’d be okay.

[morallyinept]

HAPPY SUNDAY LOVELIES! 🖤

Have we all recovered from those Esquire outtakes yet?? Nah, me neither... I'm undecided which is my favourite, everytime I think I've settled on a decision, I see something in a different one. Thirst world problems, eh? 🥲

I've had this week off work; my final vacation for the year, and it's flown by. 😫 I've spent it mostly catching up on writing though, and reading as well as visiting some friends and family.

Lots of late nights however, as I have bout of insomnia right now... sigh. So I've been super tired with sandpaper eyes most of this week. 😵‍💫

Back to work on tomorrow so I'm making the most of the last of my free time to get some WIPs worked on. Yay!

So, let's get into this week's whip round, shall we, Jack? Ready that whip, cowboy!

Catch up on last week here, sugar

☆ Things I've posted this week

Five Days Chapter 9 - Again, so many thanks and forehead smooches to everyone who is invested in Joel & Reader. 🖤

Full - A Joel Miller GIFLET

Feast On This - A Max Phillips GIFLET as requested by an ASK.

Back Alley Bang! - A Dieter Bravo One Shot, which was inspired by these outtakes released this week from the Esquire shoot, which has made the fandom collectively lose it's mind... 🥵

Self Care With Dieter & Jett this week featured Pedro himself stepping in for Dieter, to offer some self-care advice through some of his memorable quotes.

Jettsgiving - Thanksgiving with a house full of The Pedro Boys? What could possibly go wrong...? 🤪

This week's Writer Wow shone the spotlight on @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin Angela is such an amazing person and writer, and I just love her, so go totally check her out. 💚

☆ Things I'm currently working on

Putting together my fic for the Pickled Pena challenge - are you guys taking part in this?? It's going to be so much fun!

Putting the finishing touches to my Christmas fics and I have a few one-shots to draft out for the Festive season, then I can work on some of the WIPs I've teased out previously - woo!

Annnnd a butt load of GIFTLETS.

☆ Things I've read this week

As I've been off this week, I've read more than I usually would, but it still never feels like enough, does it?

Below are some of the fics that stood out to me this week:

Undercover - Part 1 - @secretelephanttattoo

Hot Criminal & Lawyer - @boliv-jenta

Hue, My Way & Medicine - @goodwithcheese

Nothing That I Didn't Know - @for-a-longlongtime

Pause - @trulybetty

Kill Shot - @magpiepills

Giving Thanks - @linzels-blog

Masterpiece - @thetriumphantpanda

Hold Tight - @sin-djarin

With Mercy For The Disturbed - @netherfeildren

Sticky - @ezrasbirdie

Sequins -@trulybetty

All of these, and more, have been added to my Pedro Characters Fic Rec List

☆ What have I been watching/listening to this week?

Not a lot this week, as I've been busy with writing and reading, so watching things was neglected a little this week.

Unless you count The Simpsons, which is always on in the background... Ralph Wiggum is totally my spirit animal.

☆ What have I been up to this week?

Mostly reading and writing and catching up on the usual things that come with adulting. Didn't manage a hike this week as the weather here has been gross. Plus, looks like the frosty weather is on it's way too 🥶

I'm reluctantly thinking about Christmas shopping... bah humbug. I'm not a miser, I love Christmas - just not the expense that comes with it! 😬

Well, that wraps it up for this week. I hope you guys have enjoyed the weekend. Many thanks for the lovely DM's and ASKs as always. Always fun to hear from you guys.

Stay kind & stay creamy. Jack & I will catch you in the next recap. 🖤

🖤

[caliblorn]

WIP WEDNESDAY WAHOOOO!!!

Last Wednesday I’ve been tagged by @sneaksandsweets but I saw it too late, so here I am now! Oh boy, I have too many wips going on right now because my thoughts keep trailing off and I start something new every evening. Here some of my more...presentable wips, from serious to unserious;

1) A 4/5 pages comic I was making about Vanus going back to Sollicich-sul-Ker, or what remains of it. This comic has been in my drafts for a month (at least) and I’m scared It’ll never see the light of day lol

2) Little ‘panel’ comic about an unpleasant encounter. This file is literally called “What is wrong with you”, so I’ll let you imagine. Yay! I can make Vanus a bit cartoony if he’s far back from the froeground characters, c’mon. 

3) Part of an answer for an ask, also just the last panel of it. *Strikes a little gay pose*

4) I...uuuuh....uh? 

I’m gonna be honest with you...I forget the name files for the majority of the things I start, and so they get lost if I dont pick them up after a few days (Paint Tool Sai sees your last opened files up to only 10 files). But, to be honest, it’s a great experience going back to my art folder and discovering absolutely dogshit art with out-of-the blue names I had completely forgotten about. Like, wtf are these?!?

Anyway, I’m taggin back @sneaksandsweets​ aaaaaaand conveniently tagging @fantasydrowsy​ as well 👀👀 it’s a bit late already here so don’t feel pressured about doing this! 

[the-stove-is-divorced]

So, hi again

Ok first, congratulations on your 100 subscribers!!! That's an amazing feat to achieve!

Second, my question is this, do you plan on making more ben 10 fic in the

Future? Why yes or why no (no judging don't worry)

Another question is, do you know Danny phantom? Do you ever think about joining the fandom and making a fic for it?

Also last thing (sorry so many questions I'm excited)

For you bnha fics, do you have any hidden lore? Or random facts you head canon about a character that may or may not be included into the fic? (Loved inko's beef in nursing school lol) And what is Yagi's pov in this whole thing? I'm imagining it as complete comedy

If you ever decide to write something for your fic but in his pov, it has to be completely crack treated seriously with him missing every flag of his student having a meltdown and a walk toward the dark side lol

Sorry for the long ask, will be waiting for your reply!

Don't worry about a long ask, I adore any asks I get (´꒳`)♡♡♡ !!! I just take a min to answer, haha. Especially rn, but thank you sm! I'm very happy about it, it's so delightful!!! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡ ♡ ♡

I do want to write more Ben 10, but it's lower on the priority list. Batman brainrot had me a chokehold for a hot min there, and it just loosened, so I wanna get back on track on my bigger ongoing wip's, like my SUF and Invincible fics, and maybe even a Blue Beetle fic. They're both overdue for an update, and I've been itching to post for a while but just Couldn't from responsibilities, bleh.

If I had my way, I'd update those two fics, and then possibly muse about a oneshot of Albedo and Ben having to spend like 10 hours together, 'cause the enemy/friend dynamic is so yummy to me! Forcig them to interact like Albedo is internally hissing like a wet cat backed into the corner and Ben is just trying to vibe! Hostile, loathing force meet nonchalant, friendly energy, fight. Plus, I really want to write one more comedy-like fic since I've gotten incredibly rusty. As for my already existing Ben 10 wip, I'm quite not sure where to take it? I suppose I've run out of steam for the moment? Again, my more comedic style is incredibly rusty, so while I do have 1k of a draft, it's undoubtedly going to be scrapped and reworked to hell before it's even polished. And that's still lower on the priority list, compared to Invincible and SUF, which I'm still struggling to update.

AND I LOVE DANNY PHANTOM! I've just never had a proper fic idea for the series, admittedly. I'd also need a rewatch to keep in tune with Danny's voice/characterizations. I also read a lot of DP x Anything crossovers, and got really sick of them by proxy. It'll take a bit for me to write anything for it, I suppose? I'd need to reignite a interest!

And oh YAY! It's been a very long time since I thought about that fic, and a lot I make up as I go and try tying back together, kinda like building the railroad while I drive the train, haha. So not sure if I had any hidden lore, especially none I can think of at the top of my head? But, like anything, I can think of some!

a) Inko and Hisashi are still technically married as they never got officially divorced, Inko kinda kicked him out and he's still yearning. He admires her ability to be cut throat, and loathes her strong sense of morals. b) Inko and Hisashi met while Inko was in med school, nearly graduating! She threatened to stick a pen through someone's throat for mocking her, and he was enamored. c) Izuku gets his determination from Inko, not Hisashi. He also gets the ability to burst into tears from her. The quick obsession is all him though. d) Hisashi left when Izuku was just young enough for his parenting to still linger, aka quirk fascination, but still early enough Izuku doesn't quite miss him when he's lived so long without him.

Yagi is ABSOLUTELY having a swell ol' time looking at Izuku succeed from the sidelines. Go, Izuku go! Number one cheerleader in the distance. He would be oblivious to Izuku's slowburn sanity depletion, if not incidentally encouraging by misunderstanding, since I think that's silly. Probably offer some advice Izuku takes in a whole another direction, or comment on Izuku's quirk to be encouraging, which makes Izuku incredibly tight lipped and sweating bullets. Which is to say, completely correct assumption from you, haha!

I did have a draft of the next chapter I never ended up finished, if you'd like :D below!

Izuku has been cackling madly for a solid minute. Maybe it’s the exhaustion still clinging to him like a teddy bear cactus after seeing its first fleshy human taxi, or the sweet, sweet euphoria of a miraculous, and marvelous step forwards, or maybe he’s simply lost his sanity, but eventually, it winds down to giggles, chuckles until it’s nothing but a bright grin stretched over his cute little cheeks. 

“Shigaraki!” Izuku whispers delightfully. “Shigaraki, Shigaraki, Shigaraki!” 

Unfortunately, chanting someone's name while cackling, does sound like he’s reciting the next person he’s gonna curse to have their toes swapped with their fingers or having their spine crumble like a wad of wet paper towels squeezed into a tiny ball, so Izuku does exhibit one tiny glimmer of self awareness to simply stop doing that. The magic of sleep, he supposes, brings the wonderful gift of self awareness!

He should sleep more. Probably. Maybe. He’ll see. 

And while yes, okay, there is technically literally no one in the house except for him to see him like this, his All Might figure could be judging him! He can’t disappoint them! They’re limited edition. And oh, he should wipe them down soon. Gotta keep them in good condition! Just imagining one of those delicate, glossy figures being cracked and broken just makes Izuku wanna do the same thing to someone’s spine, which is ridiculous!

Izuku would simply never allow them to get damaged. Ever.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Vaguely Summarized WIP Tag!

Thank you so much for the tag, @talesofsorrowandofruin!!! (Here)

Rules: Summarize your WIP in 15 2-5 word bullet points (as if you were trying to summarize it in 15 seconds).

I'll go with my WIP Of Starlight and Beasts since its finally leaving the Plotting Stage and developing into a First Draft!

Hey... maybe we should be a bit more concerned about this amount of monsters... just maybe

Teen with unaddressed issues must save the world from a bunch of rich grownups' mistakes. Is disturbingly thrilled about it

Random kid lost in the woods with no memories and the power of✨Glowing Anime Magic ✨ has a terrible, horrible, no good very bad set of days. Also, he makes a friend.

Guess we're together on this now! (a.k.a. None of us should have ever, ever been left unsupervised and now it's your problem)

"The Insane Evil Queen been making a lot of sense lately and it makes me seriously uncomfy"

The power of friendship and bullshitting your way through potential war crimes

Dragon Girl Has Way Too Much Fun and Things Burn (:

Someone, please make the twins stop trying to kill each other

Turns out the "good plan" was not, in fact, "a good plan"

Jekyll and Hyde level existential crisis, yay

(game show voice)... And the "World's Worst Mother" Award goes to -!

"How to Survive: Dungeons, Misery, and All Things Not Nice With Your Bestie in 2 trauma-inducing steps, Second Edition".

... Who's gonna tell the King?

Breaking News: Local man has no idea how he has gotten stuck with these idiots but they're his idiots

Family Issues and Swordfights while the world crashes down

Tagging: @kaylinalexanderbooks @littleladymab @cabbojage @lassiesandiego @little-peril-stories @oh-no-another-idea @thepeculiarbird @rickie-the-storyteller @crowandmoonwriting @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gummybugg @forthesanityofstorytellers @doublegoblin @aalinaaaaaa @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @elshells @clairelsonao3 @anyablackwood @tabswrites and OPEN TAG

[diningwiththeasquiths]

I’d love to see that “Daniel catching Kreese and Johnny in the act (Lawrusso endgame, sub!Johnny)” wip 👀

Oh yay, thank you for the request anon! ❤ I guess I'll finish the ficlet and post it here below, otherwise it will stay in my drafts forever.

For context: Johnny and Daniel are co-senseis here.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Daniel is much too furious to announce his arrival at the Cobra Kai dojo by calling out, instead taking angry strides towards the office, where a strip of light shines from underneath the door. It's after hours and the rest of the dojo is deserted. When he pushes it open he freezes in the doorway instead of barging in like he was planning to, his anger quickly replaced by shock.

For a millisecond, he thinks that the two men in the room are in the middle of a physical altercation, since Kreese is gripping the other man's blond hair in a tight fist. Johnny's blond hair. It's Johnny on his knees in front of Kreese, uncharacteristically not putting up a fight.

Then he realizes Johnny's completely naked, with a very noticeable erection poking up between his thighs. A wave of lightheadedness hits Daniel. His heart pounds in his ears and he's frozen to the spot, unable to look away from the sight.

Johnny doesn't notice him at first, his eyes trained on the man before him, lips parted and chest rising and falling like he's been sparring. Kreese, however, turns his head towards the door almost immediately, surprise and then smugness flashing across his furrowed face.

After a few long moments that seem to drag on forever, Johnny notices something's up and looks in Daniel's direction. It must be painful for him to do so, with the way Kreese's fist still tightly grips him. Johnny's eyes grow wide. Seeing his own shock reflected back at him releases Daniel from immobility. He does them both a favor by stepping back and slamming the door shut. In a daze, he walks back to his car. When he zones back in again, he's halfway to Miyagi-do. It takes a second ping of his phone before the sound registers.

[Johnny] whre are yuo

[Johnny] i cna explain

The texts contain more typos than Johnny usually makes. Daniel imagines a frantic Johnny, fingers shaking as he types. The thought makes him pull over and respond, telling Johnny that he's willing to meet at Johnny's place and hear him out. His brain is already coming up with possible explanations, trying to makes sense of it. Perhaps it was some sort of deal, and Johnny was only cooperating so that Kreese would leave their kids alone.

Johnny is already two and a half beers deep when Daniel sits down across from him in the small living room. He doesn't talk. Just stares at the table with a clenched jaw, like the empty bottles hold all the answers.

"I thought you hated Kreese," Daniel says, breaking the silence.

"I do! It's just... It's complicated."

"Try me. Are you doing it in exchange for something?"

"What, like money?"

"Is your financial situation that bad?" Daniel asks, eyebrows crinkling, horrified at the idea.

"No! He doesn't pay me. He just... He knows what I need."

"What you need," Daniel repeats blankly.

"Yeah." Johnny flushes, struggling to clarify himself. "What we do has nothing to do with our dojos. I still hate his guts and want to defeat him. But every once in a while we meet up and..." he trails off and makes a vague gesture.

Daniel's eyes darken.

"And he gives you what you need," he finishes for him. "What I just walked in on, that's the sort of thing you need?"

"...Yeah."

It's the easiest, most obvious decision Daniel's ever made. But first, he has to know if Johnny's on board. That's the most important thing right now. And if he is, Daniel will see to it that he never has to turn to Kreese ever again. They can figure out the rest later.

"And since you're willing to get it from a man like him, am I right in assuming that the person doesn't matter, provided that you get what you need?"

"Uh. Yeah, I guess so."

"Alright. From now on, you come to me for that. Do you understand?"

When there's no immediate reply, Daniel gets up to stand in front of Johnny. Grabbing a fistful of hair from the back of Johnny's head, he yanks it down so that Johnny's face turns up towards him.

"I said, do you understand?"

Johnny swallows. When his eyes meet his gaze, Daniel can see his pupils have dilated so much that the blue of his irises has nearly disappeared.

"Yes Sensei."

[luchadorbard]

I've nearly finished my current novel length WIP (Yay!) and now comes the way harder part of editing and getting beta readers on it before I send it out to people.

Honestly, I know we all love to make jokes/memes of 'writers do anything but write' but if I was offered a choice between "write forever until the heat death of the universe" or "edit one draft of your completed work one time" the former would be strongly appealing.

[citrus-cactus]

Howdy, all! I can't post my art summary quite yet because it contains part of someone's Secret Santa gift, so I thought I would fill out the fic summary template created by @reliablejoukido (see her original post here!). Even though I didn't publish (or finish!) much, I did start writing again this year, and that feels like a huge accomplishment, so it seemed like it would be fun to look back and talk a little bit about what I have in the works.

First, the finished fic!

My er... grand return to writing (I wouldn't call it that, but I did have a lot of fun writing and drawing for it, even if it took 6+ months from start to finish ^^;). I love these three characters as a trio so much. It was really hard to pull out a quote I liked and have it make sense in context, so I put the summary in there... but since I brought it up in another post, I thought I'd share what one of my editing drafts looks like:

(ok, so maybe not the tiniest font imaginable, but sometimes there are cross-outs to the cross-outs and sometimes I DO run out of room near troublesome paragraphs and in the margins!)

Now, onto WIPs!

Hmm, well! That sure is a title, isn't it? ;) I wanted to write Junzumi and came up with this idea late last year, and finally started trying to figure it out. It's meant to be fun and flirty and a bit awkward, but the ultimate goal is to be kind to JP, because he (and his body) are given so little love overall. And even though JP and Zoe are not actually hooking up in this fic, it is meant to show the relationship between the two of them in college, and how they could start going from friendship to dating. There IS nudity, but it's meant to be tasteful and respectful, I promise!

Oof. I haven't forgotten this fic, I swear (even though I published Chapter 4 three years ago!). I got really excited to work on it earlier this year (flush with success from actually publishing something, rotfl!) and then let it continue to languish (orz). Upon reflection, the reason it's been stalled is I was having a hard time figuring out the flow of action, but after re-outlining it in September I think I know now what Maki needs to be doing in order to experience the emotions I always meant her to be feeling in this chapter. And yes, she and Meiko meet (yay!).

Chapter 6 has been done for YEARS, and Chapter 7's probably pretty close to done as well, so it really is just this chapter being the hold-up.

AKA, Garg Fic #1. Been mulling over ideas for fic for this fandom all summer, and finally decided to write one based on some minor characters from the SLG comics (that I didn't even read, and can't read now because they're out of print). But I AM reading the new Dark Ages comics, and I'm proving to be a really good guesser about certain details, so actually, I feel INCREDIBLY validated about my original vision and characterization, ahaha.

As you may be able to tell from the quote selection, this is not a happy story. But I believe it's a story worth telling. It's about preserving customs in the face of tragedy, and mourning, and extinction, and love.

AKA, the thing that pulled me away from writing Garg Fic #1. I was possessed. I was writing something in my head about Macbeth's relationship with Demona this summer, and suddenly (VERY suddenly) it morphed into this. Dang, but they're fun to think about. This fic is weird, it will contain one MAJOR narrative trope/cliche, and it's definitely going to be NSFW if I end up getting that far. But I reeeeeeally like this paragraph I wrote for it XD

Thanks for the template Zuz, and thanks to everyone else for letting me ramble about writing! See you again for the art roundup!

[quiet-nocturne]

answer your 30 questions please and thank you!!!

WOO. HERE WE GO, YA'LL:

ao3 wrapped [writers edition]

How many words have you written this year? Published? 22,685. Unpublished? A loooooot ahaha.

How many works did you publish this year? Currently, 3. Hoping to have 4-5 by christmas though. 👀

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? definitely cause i'm lovesick. That thing was a labor of love. My first fanfic baby in a loooong time.

What work of yours has the most hits? currently cause i'm lovesick (I ain't even ashamed), which is at 735 hits. But it's kind of biased, considering I only came back to fic writing in like october.

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? nothing in particular - I'm just happy to have any engagement!

Favorite title you used honestly, no favorite as of yet. All the titles I've used come from song lyrics that are super royai coded/important to me, so I like them all. That answer could definitely change in the future though!

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most? most recently, taylor swift (hopeless, breathless, burning slow), but also banks (cause i'm lovesick and you're all that matters to me anyway - she's SO GOOD for angsty love songs). Lyrics are so, so important to me. I have a ~300 song royai playlist (which I'm going to slim down and post here at some point) that I listen to constantly, lol, and a huge notes file on my phone filled with potential song lyric titles. I have a music degree and it's literally so important to my writing process aajsaksjljasjl.

Pairing you wrote the most for this year? Royai. lol. That's not going to change any time soon. The extreme hyperfixation is REAL.

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year? Again royai. They're the best. My babies. 💖

What work was the quickest to write? Surprising, chapter 2 of hopeless, breathless, burning slow. started it last night and i'm already nearly done the first draft. That thing flew out of me, especially considering chapter 1 was much more of a journey lol.

What work took you the longest to write? definitely chapter 1 of hopeless, breathless, burning slow. it wasn't the writing that was the issue - it was the editing. I really dragged my feet on it, and could have had that thing out like 2 weeks ago. 🤦‍♀️

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year? oh god. my wip's currently include: - chapter 2 of hopeless, breathless, burning slow - sequel to cause i'm lovesick (I ain't even ashamed) - a christmas fic - angsty, hurt/comfort, character exploration, ishval restoration multi-chaptered fic (I'm REALLY excited to work on this!!! yay angst) - roy and riza returning to her old father's house post-cannon and STUFF HAPPENS, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc (also really excited for this one! i've been daydreaming about it for MONTHS. Even just thinking about this fic feels like sinking into a warm bath. That's the vibes I want it to give) - ANOTHER post-promised day fic, because I'm a broken record, but this time more humorous/cute. - aaaand yet another post-promised day fic, but one where Riza REALLY ISN'T DOING WELL/almost dies like a million times at the hospital and roy is sad (!!!). - briggs angst/sick fic - does that make sense? no? it will. Yeah. yeahhh. That list is only going to get bigger. 🤷‍♀️ Some of these will also, shockingly, not have smut lol.

What’s your longest work of the year? So far, ch. 1 of hopeless, breathless, burning slow at a whopping 9, 792 words. It really ran away from me.

What’s your shortest work of the year? mmm, you're all that matters to me anyway at 5,954 words. apparently I can't write anything below 5k lol. 🤷‍♀️

What WIP are you taking into next year with you? Oof, I mean probably most of what I had listed above. I aim to have some of it done - but it's already December 7th, so yeah.

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? Smut. lol.

Your favorite character to write this year? Surprisingly, Roy. I almost find him easier to write than Riza. Normally I don't enjoy writing from the male perspective. But Roy Mustang is just 🔥. I was so surprised lol.

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? No one, as of yet. But we'll see what I say once I start working more on the multi chaptered fics. 😬

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? More Royai, maybe with a dash of Roy/Maes. Maybe I'll try a bit of Ed/Winry? Who knows!

Which work of yours have you reread the most? chapter 1 of hopeless, breathless, burning slow. I am so fucking sick of it ahaha helppp.

How many kudos in total did you get this year? Currently at 142! You are all so sweet. 😭

Which work has the most comments? I think cause i'm lovesick at the moment!

Did you do any collaborative works this year? nope! Definitely something I'd consider doing in the future though!

Did you write any gifts this year? maybe! 👀 we shall see

Did you receive any gifts this year? nope!

What’s your most common category? ...Smut. lol. 🤷‍♀️

What do you listen to while writing? ahhhh I love talking about music with my ships! like I said, my ridiculously huge royai playlist. also all of my top songs on spotify were from it, which includes: 1. Say Yes to Heaven - Lana Del Ray (i've got my eye on you / i've got my mind on you) 2. Work Song - Hozier (no grave could hold my body down / i'll crawl home to her) 3. I Wanna Be Yours - Artic Monkeys (secrets i have held in my heart / are harder to hide then i thought / maybe i just wanna be yours) 4. Night We Met - Lord Horan feat. Pheobe Bridges (i had all and then most of you / some and now none of you / take me back to the night we met / i don't know what i'm supposed to do / haunted by the ghost of you) - that ishval restoration fic is definitely going to use a lyric from this song SOMEWHERE Honorable mentions: Die First - Nessa Barrett (someone dies or someone gets hurt / but if one of us dies / i hope i die first) Ya'aburnee - Halsey (i'll never know / if there's danger in confession / or it's memory that presses / like a blade against my throat / another word and i could choke / but what's worst? / tellin' you my feelings / or to die without revealing / that you got inside my head / and set a fire there instead?) Dress - Taylor Swift (there is an indentation in the shape of you / made your mark on me, a golden tattoo / all of this silence and patience / pining and anticipation / my hands are shaking from holding back from you) 10000/10, would play at royai's wedding.

Favorite work you wrote this year? cause i'm lovesick. Again, it was my baby. I loved writing it so much.

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? mmmm, probably: "She'd planned to stay angry at Mustang for longer, but then he'd surprised her by sauntering into her apartment basically the second his train had arrived, eyes blazing with desire as he collected her in his warm embrace, murmuring you have no idea how much I've been craving to taste you against the soft skin of her throat." (I tried to find one that was mostly sfw lol).

Biggest surprise while writing this year? Just being able to write, in general! It's been so much fun. 💖

[lusthurts]

29, 12, and 6?

omg yay

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

here's something I cut from "How Bright We Burn" - in the first draft, Kurt and Blaine broke up after Kurt didn't show up to the Warblers sectionals, and Blaine and Sebastian's first kiss happened that night during the truth or dare game when Thad dares them to make out. Anyway, this scene follows that:

He reaches for the back of Sebastian’s neck and pulls him towards him. Cheers from the Warblers erupt immediately when their lips connect, and Blaine can’t help but smile. That day in the hallway when Sebastian said they could run the school together pops into Blaine’s head as Sebastian kisses him back, and it’s the last coherent thought he has as his eyes close and their lips fit like pieces of a puzzle that have been dying to touch for years. 

Blaine must black out for a second because it’s almost like it’s just them, even though this might be the loudest he’s ever heard the Warblers cheer during a dare. He’s too focused on Sebastian’s tongue as it slips between his lips and his hand as it lands on his thigh, then his waist, all of it sending shock waves through his entire body. 

It takes a distinctly Nick-sounding cheer to snap Blaine out of the hazy mess of a kiss and pull away. It’s frustrating because he doesn’t want to stop, which is a shitty thing to think when you’ve been single for less than a day. Maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s terrified it isn’t. 

come to think of it, maybe I actually will include this in a different fic in the future lol

12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)? Share it!

yes! I make playlists for almost all my WIPs, even the shorter ones. The "How Bright We Burn" playlist has 123 songs on it (many of which are songs that led to the lyrics at the top of each chapter) so I won't share them all for now, but instead, I'll share some highlights from the playlist for the sequel ;)

"Beautiful Trauma" by P!nk

"Crazy In Love" by Beyoncé

"Renegade" by Big Red Machine & Taylor Swift

"Holy Ghost" by BØRNS

"Style" by Taylor Swift

"History" by One Direction

"Easy" by Troye Sivan

"Paprika" by Japanese Breakfast

"The Louvre" by Lorde

"Till Forever Falls Apart" by Ashe & FINNEAS

hopefully that doesn't include any spoilers ope

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

omg yes of course, the Seblaine fic that I literally always reread is the "I'll Be There For You" series by Imogen_LeFay, specifically "Stuck In Second Gear" because that fic is seriously canon to me and the only way I can ever bring myself to rewatch the last season of Glee because I know that this fic is how it really ends. For other Seblaine fics, I love to reread "Seasons Change" by civillove and "This or That" by TiburonWriter.

also, I'm a huge marauders fan (though you wouldn't guess it from my Tumblr where I almost exclusively talk about seblaine and Taylor Swift) and I have to admit I've reread the famous "All the Young Dudes" by MsKingBean89 multiple times as well.

sorry this got so long lol clearly idk how to be concise

[strawberryicebreakers]

Hello, sorry to bother you but I'm a bit curious about the UHF fanfic you mentioned a while ago. Has it been updated since?

I haven't gotten around to it just yet; I got bit by the ted lasso bug, blinked, and now I'm nearly 40k into a fic with no signs of switching over to a different WIP :(

that being said, it is incredibly nice to see that people want to read my writing :') I do, eventually, want to finish the fic, but with the current WIP I'm working on and the semester starting up [yay college!], it doesn't look like I'll get to finish it anytime soon.

as a condolences/sneak peak, I'll put what I've got so far under the cut. it's about 7.1k, and it is a very, very rough draft, but again, I'm very thankful for the kind words I've gotten from people concerning the fic and want to show it! if you have any questions, feel free to hit me with them :)

Three months in, and Robert still couldn’t believe the station hadn’t crashed and burned. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust George, or Pamela, for that matter, but it seemed too good to be true. It made no sense to him that the same universe that let him flunk out of college and lose every minimum-wage job he’d ever held was the same universe that gave him a television station and said “hey, go nuts!”

It made no sense, but in all honesty, nothing in his life seemed to make that much sense to him these days. Just the other day, he’d had a group of teenagers break into the building in the middle of the night, probably trying to find a place to smoke, and got chased out by some robotic behemoth Philo’d built in the back of his station control room-turned-laboratory, all while having not told anyone he’d come back to begin with. He’d come in the next morning to see the door off the hinges and a hunk of metal with a wagging tail getting behind-the-ear scratches from Pamela.  

Pamela, who was slowly becoming another tally in favor of his life turning upside down. 

Ever since the night Channel 8 went off the air, she’d started paying attention to him, and it was beginning to concern him. Before, she’d said “good morning” and “good night,” or even the occasional question about any plans he might have, but over the past weeks, she’d turned her charm on to the highest setting possible. Despite the weather turning cold, her skirts grew shorter, her heels taller, and she’d started lingering by his desk for much longer than it took to ask him where the Rolodex went. 

Privately, he’d thought that was more of a question for Stanley, not him, but he didn’t want to embarrass her by pointing it out.

All in all, though, he knew he’d have to mention it at some point, if only to soothe his own conscience. The last thing he needed was to find her doodling hearts and “Mrs. Pamela Steckler” in her broadcast notes.

He glanced up at the clock and saw that all of a single hour had passed since he’d arrived. He’d started coming in early, around eight in the morning, to make sure the morning rerun segments ran smoothly; if it had the added benefit of getting an hour to himself before anyone else showed up, well, he wasn’t complaining. 

-

The scrape of the door on the tile floor that pulled him out of his reverie told him that someone else had arrived, and the click of a heel announced who it was. 

“Good morning!”

“Hey, Pamela,” he called out. “Any trouble with the drive?”

“Nah,” she said, pulling her coat off and hanging it on the rack. “Just some awful fog. I could barely see the street!” 

Through the lattice, Robert watched her rifle through her desk drawers, pulling out a few pens and her notepad. At his desk, he did the same, and began to look through the show proposals for the spring schedule; not reading them, just counting the envelopes. “Anything interesting to cover today?”

“The uzhe,” she said. “The shelter’s doing a PSA for families looking to adopt a pet for Christmas and I get to go down and get fur all over my legs.”

“Look on the bright side, Pam,” he said. “You get to play with puppies, and George and I are stuck down here, puppy-less. You have to admit, one seems a lot more fun than the other.”

She turned, swiveling her chair over to look at him through the lattice. “You saying you want to come down with me, Bobby?”

“No,” he said, a bit too quick to be polite. “No, I -, uh, I’ve got to stay up here. Keep everything in line, you know?” He held up the papers to her with a shrug. “You really think George wants to read these?”

He sent a quick prayer up, hoping she hadn’t seen George all but club him over the head the other night when he’d mentioned splitting the proposals in half and reading them separately. Reading what the people of Tulsa wanted to see on the TV was half the alleged fun of the job, and reading them together, laughing about it, made it borderline bearable.

She stood, walking over to his desk and perching on the edge. “Come on,” she said, smiling. “It’s me, you, and a bunch of cute little animals. What’s not to love?”

“I said no, Pamela.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “You’d really rather be here?”

“I really would rather be here,” he said. “I can’t ditch work to hang out with you.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Pamela looked down at him, smiling. 

“What?”

“I mean,” she said, curling a lock of hair ‘round her finger, “if work’s the problem, we could always hang outside of work hours. Grab dinner, maybe a movie?”

“I -”

“I think Back to the Future two’s playing at the theater near my place. You ever see the first one? I always thought the guy who played Marty, the Fox guy, was pretty funny. He’s on Family Ties, too, and -”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just -,” he sighed. “I just can’t.”

She pushed herself off his desk, and he saw her face begin to flush. “I don’t get it,” she said. “I mean, I’ve got a job, I’m nice, and frankly, I’m not too bad to look at, so what’s your deal?”

 “Well, I’m your boss, Pamela,” he said. “Pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“Fine,” she said. “If you weren’t my boss, would you date me?”

“No, but -”

“You got a girlfriend?”

“No -”

“Then what gives?” She slunk down into George’s chair with a groan, threading her hand through her hair. “I mean, is it my voice? My makeup? Shit, do I wear too much makeup?”

“You’re beautiful,” Robert said. “And your voice is fine, Pam. We wouldn’t put you on the air if it wasn’t.”

She huffed. “If it’s none of that, then what is it?”

“He’s gay, Pamela.”

They both jumped, nearly falling out of their chairs.

“Fuck, Philo,” Robert cursed, “how long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” Philo mused. He hummed while he worked, some odd little tune Robert couldn’t place while sticking a screwdriver into what looked like three batteries taped to a piece of glass. “And Pamela has an uncle like you, Robert. She wouldn’t have been rude about it, had you told her yourself.”

“How do you know about my uncle?” Pamela asked. “I haven’t said anything about him to you, or anyone here.” She turned, looking back at him. “He’s right, though.”

“Philo, you can’t say stuff like that,” Robert wheezed. He felt his heart racing under his shirt as if he’d run from one end of the station to the next, and tried to get himself to calm down.

For what it was worth, the older man looked genuinely confused. “I can’t?”

“No, you can’t,” he said. “Some people wouldn’t take that information very well.”

He considered it for a minute, then nodded. “My apologies, Robert.”

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“You have my word.” He pressed a hand to the right side of his lab coat, and gave a slight bow. With that, Philo walked away, returning to the back of the station to do god knows what, and left Robert alone with Pamela, who stared straight at him.

He knew she’d have questions; hell, he still had questions, sometimes, and it would be better to get the awkward part over with. “Whatever it is you’re trying to figure out how to ask, just ask it.”

“If you liked girls, would you like me?”

“For God’s sake, Pam.”

She giggled. “I’m sorry, I had to ask!” 

“If I wake up tomorrow wanting to date a woman,” Robert said, smiling despite himself, “you’re the first on my list.”

“Yes!” She pumped a fist in the air. “I knew it!”

“Any man would be lucky to have you,” he said. “You could choose any man you’d ever met, and chances are, they’d treat you like a princess.” He picked up the papers that had fallen from his hand when Philo’d appeared. “Not me, though. Maybe not Stanley, either.”

“You think he’s gay?”

“No,” he said, unfolding the first proposal. “I just think you can do better.”

-

She stayed with him until other employees began to trickle in, and by half past noon, they nearly had a full house. They were still missing George and a few others, but he wasn’t too worried; he’d heard George come in late the night before, and figured he probably wouldn’t drag himself into the station until the last minute. Cameras wouldn’t go live until they started filming some of the upcoming week’s segments at two, but it was nice to hear people moving out and about, typing out a new script or whatever it was they got paid to do. They’d hired an entire new rotation of employees, a good chunk of which were people who wanted to see their shares in the station put to good use, and they had an entire team of high schoolers acting as interns, doing side work for some sort of class credit. Technically, he and George were supposed to give them assignments, grade them, the whole nine years, but if he was being honest with himself, unless one of the kids managed to break something that actually mattered, he’d give them all A’s and call it a day. 

Life’s hard enough without some asshole in a tie trying to make it worse, he thought, watching one of them follow Stanley around as he mopped. 

Everything had grown to become so much more professional since they’d started revamping the station; between the new employees, broadcasting gear, and business cards that said “Robert” instead of “Bob,” he finally began to feel like an adult.

The phone at the front of the office gave out a short, shrill ring, and Pamela answered. After a moment, she held the receiver away from her mouth. “It’s for you, Bob!”

“Coming,” he said, halfway out of his desk already. There were only two types of calls they got: serious calls that required either him or George, and Pamela’s social calls from friends who realized that, unless she was on their television, she was available to talk. 

He lifted the receiver to his ear. “Robert Steckler, Channel 62.”

“I’m in hell, Bob.”

“George?”

Next to him, Pamela gave up any attempt she’d made at trying to look disinterested.

“Hell, Bob.” George repeated. He spoke slowly, as if he had to pull the words out of himself to say them loud enough to hear through the phone. “I’m in it.”

“What’s wrong?”

This time, Robert couldn’t hear the mumbled mess that came out of the speaker. 

“What?”

“My glasses broke.” George sighed, loud enough to be heard over the speaker, and despite the situation, Robert fought back a grin at the dramatics. 

“How’d that happen?”

“I didn’t put them in the drawer last night when I came in. Knocked them off the nightstand when I got out of bed since I didn’t remember they were there, and the second I put my foot down -”

Robert winced. “Crunch?”

“Crunch,” George echoed. “I just got off the phone with Visionworks. They’re doing a rush order for me ‘cause I might’ve mentioned I needed them for station work -”

“George -”

“which isn’t technically wrong, y’know, and they said the earliest they’d be in is Friday, so until then, I’m out of commission for anything that requires me behind the wheel of a car.”

“Got it,” he said. “I’ll be there in ten or so. You need me to help you down the stairs?”

A quiet chuckle came through the speaker. “I’m not your Grandma Ruth.”

“Yeah, but you’re both bordering on legally blind,” he replied, teasing, “so what’s the difference, really?” 

“Just for that, I’m throwing myself down the stairs. Have fun running U-62 on your own, Bob.”

“I will,” he said, and hung up the phone. He reached over, grabbing his coat out from underneath Pamerla’s and sliding it on. “I’ll be back in about half an hour,” he said, looking at her. “Try not to let the power get to your head.”

“You’ll come back, and they’ll be feeding me grapes,” she said. She lifted her legs, crossing them at the ankles atop her desk and leaning back like a queen on her throne. “His glasses broke?”

“Shattered, from what he told me.”

Pamela clicked her tongue. “Damn,” she said. “No spares?”

“Nah, neither of us have that kind of cash.”

“Well,” she said, flicking through the Rolodex, “at least we know his address.”

“Of course I know his address,” Robert said, feeling through his pockets for his keys. “We live together, Pam.” He found the keys, kept on an old keychain his dad had given him when he first came back to Tulsa.

Behind him, Pamela gasped. “Oh,” she said, eyes wide. “Oh, I get it now!”

He whipped around, hands up in alarm. “Not like that!”

“He’s not -,” she asked, then stopped herself. “You two aren’t -?”

“I don’t think,” he said, lowering his voice, “that George knows that being gay is an option, much less, well.” He waved a hand at himself. “So please, Pam, don’t mention it in front of him.”

She mimed zipping her lips shut, throwing an invisible key in the small garbage can by her feet. “My lips are sealed.”

-

The fog had grown stronger during the hours he’d spent in the station, and Robert quickly learned that Pamela wasn’t lying when she’d said that visibility was zero to none. His car was barely more than a lump of blue-gray, even though he’d parked in the closest line of spots to the building that morning. 

At least the roads were clear. The last of the lunch rush was still trickling back to their places of employment, but overall, the drive back home wasn’t too painful. He’d grown up around this type of weather in the winter, the days where you couldn’t see more than two feet in front of you followed by enough snow or ice to make it a hazard to anyone who didn’t know to look at the road when driving. Every year, car accidents littered the roads from December to mid-March, all because barely half of the town’s driving population consisted of Tulsa natives, and the other half was a combination of out-of-towners, the elderly, and teenagers that got their license that year. 

The very first winter they’d lived together, he’d had to go rescue George from a ditch eight miles from the apartment at ten o’clock at night; he’d tried driving home from his girlfriend’s house and lost control when his wheel hit the ice. It was the same winter where the heat went out, and George’s uncle Harvey managed to save their asses both times. He’d paid for the repairs on the car, and “had a guy” who came out to fix the heating, not just for their apartment, but for the whole building, at no cost. 

They’d met Kuni about a week later when he’d come by to give his thanks after he’d realized that the landlord hadn’t been the one to fix the heating, and he’d brought a Tupperware full of something his wife had made for them. Robert still didn’t know what it was; it’d been strawberries covered in some sort of soft, chewy coating that neither he nor George recognized. Whatever it was, though, was incredibly good, and after trying it, they had to count the individual pieces and divide them in half in order to make sure it was a fair split.

Whenever Kuni had a particularly loud class or a student who decided to try their luck punching through their walls, he brought the same dish over. It was partially apologetic, but mainly a “thank you for not reporting me to the landlord”-type gift, and with Harvey Bilchik’s various connections able to fix anything for free, neither young man ever even considered actually going legal with the various property damages they’d collected over the past four years. 

He parallel parked in his spot on the street, leaving the key in the ignition to keep the car warm while he was gone as he left the car. He took the stairs two at a time, reaching the door quickly and opening it, knowing George would’ve left it unlocked. 

At first glance, the apartment seemed empty. Both bedroom doors were shut, as was the bathroom, and the main room showed no signs of life. He stood still, not even breathing, and felt a small, irrational fear that someone had broken in and kidnapped his roommate creep into the back of his mind.

A small sigh coming from the couch gave him his second near-heart attack of the day.

Nearly camouflaged against the cushions sat George, hunched over with his head in his hands. If he’d worn anything else, he would’ve been visible, but the combination of the brown curls and light blue suit jacket made him a chameleon in their home. 

The sheer unhappiness that radiated from his friend, combined with the MAD poster above his head reading “what - me worry?” made him have to fight back a laugh. “You ready to head out?”

On the couch, George sighed, purposefully loud, and lifted his head. He stared forwards as he spoke, not even turning to face Robert. “I think you might actually need to help me down the stairs.”

Robert could count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen George without his glasses throughout the four and a half years he’d known him. He put them on first thing in the morning, and taking them off was the last thing he did before bed. Hell, he’s pretty sure he’s seen him leave the bathroom after a shower with them fogged up. The few times he’d seen him sans glasses were always temporary; despite the fact that he was a man in his twenties, he kept his glasses safer than his car, wallet,  and comics collection combined.

“That bad?”

George turned his head, lifting his bangs to reveal a bright red line going from his right eyebrow to his hairline. “I, uh, missed the bathroom door. Met the frame instead; turns out she’s a real mean lady.”

Curious, Robert lifted his hand in a Girl Scouts salute that would make his little sister proud. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

George glared at him. “You’re evil,” he said. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Robert said, smiling. He held out his arm, palm facing the ceiling, the same way he’d always done for his grandma. “Come on, we’ve got about half an hour before the station burns down.”

“Fine,” George said. He reached out a hand, but instead of taking him by the elbow like Robert expected, took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “If you lead me off the stairs, I’m dragging you down with me.”

“Got it,” Robert replied, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strained as it felt when the words came out. 

He could feel the other man’s pulse, a slow thrum, through his fingers as he led them out the front door and slowly to the stairs, with George clasping the railing with his free hand the entire way down. It seemed as though the weather had grown even colder while he’d been inside, making him all the more aware of how warm his hand was with another wrapped around it. 

Logistically, he knew it wasn’t anything, but he was human, and it had been nearly three years since he’d been in a relationship, let alone held hands with someone. The weight of it was comforting; it was solid and steady, only verging onto tight once they’d made it to the bottom few steps. 

Thankfully, they made it down without any event, and Robert led them to his car, stopping at the passenger door. “Your carriage, ma’am.”

“Oh, you’re such a polite young man,” George said, finally cracking a smile. “If I’d known you were here to help, I’d have brought a dollar with me to tip you!”

“I’m just glad to be here for you in such a trying time.”

George took his hand away, opening the door and sinking into the seat. Still in the cold outside, Robert wasted no time in making his way to the driver’s side and climbing inside. He looped his arm around the back of the passenger seat, checking the street for cars behind him before pulling out onto the main road. 

They made it out to the highway before either of them spoke.

“Can you still do the Town Talk segment tonight?” Robert asked. “”Cause if you need me to, I can do it.”

“I can deal with it,” George said. “I know how much you hate being in front of the camera.”

“I hate being in front of the camera as Bob-o the Clown,” Robert corrected. “I’m fine being on air as Robert.”

George shifted in his seat, looking over at him, or at least looking in his direction. “You’re really sticking with Robert, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” Robert said, popping the ‘p.’ “Sounds more professional, which means the other channels take us seriously.” George snickered. “Only if they haven’t seen the shows we’ve greenlit.”

“Speaking of,” he said, turning onto the side road leading to the station, “we’ve got a new batch of proposals for spring. The people of Tulsa have spoken, and they want more insanity in the writer’s room.”

“Don’t tell me you read them without me.” George whined.

“I didn’t,” he said. “Just counted them. We’ve got about twenty, give or take.”

“And how many slots do we have open on the schedule for next spring?”

“Like, two.”

“Phenomenal.”

-

A little while later, they pulled into the station’s parking lot, and Robert was glad to see that no one had taken his spot while he’d been gone. He parked, taking the keys out of the ignition and slipping them into his pocket. 

“You want my help again?” Robert asked.

“I think I’m good,” George said, “but thanks.”

“Alright,” he said, unconvinced. There were a few steps leading up to the door, and he didn’t want to see George eat concrete when he knew neither of them had dental insurance. They were still trying to get that all squared away, but the steps for registering a business with the various insurances wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, especially when neither of the bosses had ever had insurance to begin with.

They left the car, and Robert watched, wary, as George made his way to the front door, both hands splayed out in front of him. He followed close behind in case he managed to hit something and fall backwards, but to his pleasant surprise, neither of them hit the floor. 

“Good afternoon, Stevie Wonder,” Pamela said, seeing them stumble through the door. “Had a nice drive?”

“If he’d driven, we’d be wrapped around a tree right now.”

“Very funny,” George said. He’d narrowed his eyes, but it wasn’t exactly clear if it was out of annoyance or if he was just squinting. “Make fun of the blind guy when he can’t see you well enough to punch back.”

“With your gangly limbs? Honey,” Pamela said, “I don’t think you’d manage to land a hit. Even if you could, you’re too sweet to hit a lady. It’s a mystery how no one’s snapped you up yet.”

He looked over at George, who stayed quiet, fiddling with the cuff of his suit jacket. “Someone has,” Robert said, perplexed at the silence. “His girlfriend, Teri Campbell. And before you ask,” he said, cutting Pamela off, “yes, like the soup.”

“Must’ve been born under a lucky star,” Pamela mused. “Rich girlfriend and a steady job at what, twenty-two?”

“Twenty-five,” Robert clarified, then paused. With the chaos of the first weeks at the station, he realized he’d never actually asked her, or anyone at the station, something as basic as an age. “Wait, how old are you?”

Pamela hummed, setting her pen down. “How old do you think I am?”

Robert laughed. “I’m not dumb enough to fall -”

“Twenty-seven,” George answered. He looked at the other two, who stared back at him. “Her birthday’s in April.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s on her paperwork, Bob.” George said, the way one would expect to hear “duh” tacked onto the end.

He cocked his head to the side, surprised. “You read that?”

George mimicked him, cocking his head to the other side. “You didn’t?”

“I’ve been meaning to get around to it,” he mumbled, feeling his face heat up. 

“Stanley’s thirty-two,” George continued, pointing at the janitor as he swept the floor near Robert’s desk. “Raul is forty-four -, no,” he corrected, “sorry, forty-eight. Kuni’s fifty-one, and Philo never actually filled out his papers to begin with.”

“Is he allowed to do that?”

A loud BANG! rang out from the back room. 

“I say we let him do what he wants, and in return, we get an on-site engineer who’s willing to host a show without extra pay.” 

He eyed the back room’s doors, taking note of the odd green glow that shone from the porthole windows. “That’s fair,” he said. 

Together, they made their way to their desks, sitting down just in time to avoid the crowd that pushed their way in seconds later. 

The live studio audience had arrived, and they were loud, almost overwhelmingly so. They couldn’t wait to see the people they usually saw on small boxes in real life, excited to participate in the shows they watched with family and friends. Parents with children they’d pulled out of school for the day as an early Christmas present were shown by Pamela to the largest spare room-turned-sound stage, the one with yellow walls and bleachers to fit all those coming to spend a day at Stanley Spadowski’s Clubhouse. A smaller, noticeably older crowd, directed by the interns, were ushered to Town Talk’s half-living room set-up, all the way across the building. 

The other shows filming — Secrets of the Universe, Raul’s Wild Kingdom, and You Bet Your Pink Slip — wouldn’t film until after the first two, and luckily required no such audience. Raul chose to film on-site at his apartment complex, Philo hated the idea of anyone in his lab space that didn’t explicitly have to be there, and Pink Slip was shot at whatever place of employment had someone willing to, as the show’s title suggested, bet their pink slip on something insane. 

One of the interns, a short, dark-skinned girl that was one of the first to sign up for the job, rushed over, the rubber soles of her Converse slapping against the linoleum. “Mr. Newman?”

George glanced up at her. “What do you need, Gloria?”

 “Mrs. Nichole wants you in make-up for your segment,” she said, rushing through the words. “She wants to try something new with your hair for the episode, and told me to tell you to,” she paused, focusing, “‘get your ass in the chair and don’t complain like you always do or she’ll shave your ‘stache next time.’” She grimaced, then added, “her words, not mine.”

“I’m not letting her put glitter on me again,” he muttered, standing up. He smoothed out the creases of his jacket, and straightened his tie. “I’m still picking pink flakes out of my sheets and it’s been a full month.”

“Last I saw, she had the eyeliner out,” Gloria said, “so I think you’re safe for today.”

“Don’t jinx it.”

Gloria left, spinning on her heel so fast it could’ve left a burnout, running back to Nicole’s hair and makeup station, operating out of a converted bathroom they’d found when planning out the station’s space, once they’d realized what was on the horizon. George followed her lead, not wanting to incur the wrath of Nicole, especially if his hair was at-risk of retaliation.

“Hey, George?” Robert said.

George stopped, and looked back at him. “Yeah?”

“Break a leg.”

George smiled back at him. “You know I will.” He turned back around, not wanting to lose Gloria in the hallway.

A moment later, after Robert had gone back to sorting through the bills they’d received for the upcoming week, a quiet thump! could be heard to those who knew to expect it.

“I didn’t mean it literally,” Robert called out.

“Oh, go to hell, Bob.”

-

Seven o’clock came quicker than he’d expected; between paying the bills, fielding calls from Raul’s suppliers, then having to speak to one very confused, very new-to-town police officer who’d seen Raul unloading a komodo dragon out of a van, and placing Philo’s order of calcite, dolomite, glass squares, and a bottle of hydrochloric acid, he didn’t have the time to, well, check the time.

“You planning on going home soon?” Pamela asked, packing up her purse. Around them, the station was nearly deserted; the camera crew left to film the next segments at four-thirty and the interns left at five, leaving only a skeleton crew at Station U-62. George had locked himself in the writer’s room, saying he needed the quiet to think of the next week’s Town Talk. “News segment finally wrapped, so I’m out of here.”

“Yeah,” he said, packing the last of his papers away into his desk drawer, “just waiting for George.”

“Mhm,” she said. She grabbed her coat off the rack, slipping it on and zipping it tight. “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends,” Robert replied. “Do you want to come closer and not shout it out?”

Pamela rolled her eyes as she made her way to his desk. “How long has George been dating that girl, Carrie?”

“Teri,” Robert corrected. “And, Christ, I don’t know. They’ve been on-and-off for as long as I’ve lived with him, why?”

“Just curious,” Pamela said. “How long have you two lived together?”

“Four years. Five this April, if that helps with whatever timeline you’re plotting out in your head.”

She pursed her lips. “Curious,” she repeated.

Robert sighed. “Fine, I’ll bite. What’s so curious about them?”

“They date for four, probably five years, and he still hasn’t popped the question?”

“With their breaks, they’ve probably only dated two years, to be honest.”

“And that! I mean,” she said, throwing a hand in the air, “if the guy I was with still didn’t know if he wanted to marry me after five years, even after seeing what life was like without me, I’d find myself someone who knew they wanted me.”

“Hey,” Robert interrupted, trying not to get upset, “he’s not leading her on, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. He’s a good guy, Pam.”

“I know, I know,” she reassured, “but it’s weird, right? I mean, is he breaking up with her every time they have a spat, or what?”

“I never said he was the one breaking up with her. In fact, every time they’ve broken up, Teri breaks up with him, and he doesn’t ever see a new girl. Ever. He just mopes around and waits for her to take him back.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Robert confirmed. “It’s kind of sad.”

“Has he ever dated another woman?”

“I don’t know, I’d have to check his diary,” Robert said, half-kidding. It wouldn’t surprise him to find out his roommate had an actual diary. “Why do you suddenly care about George’s dating life?”

“Well, since you’re off the table -”

If someone had thrown a bucket of gasoline and a lit match onto him, Robert still would’ve felt the cold creeping up his spine. “Pamela, you can’t -” “I’m kidding!” Pamela laughed. “Sheesh, I wish I had my camera!” She wiped a tear from the side of her eye, taking care not to smudge her mascara. “I’m just trying to learn a little more about my bosses today, is that a crime or something?”

“Go home before you send me into a stroke, Pam.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” she said, gathering her purse under her arm. “Drive safe tonight, ‘kay? I don’t think the next managers will let me wear what I want on air like you two do.”

“I will,” he said, “and same to you; drive safe.”

She waved, then let herself out, closing the door quickly to keep any of the afternoon’s snow from floating in. 

With his papers safe and secure, he locked his drawer and walked down the hall to the writer’s room. It was the one of the only rooms they used that was actually created for the purpose they used it for, though without an official writing team, it was rarely occupied. George tended to flit inside when he needed the quiet, and any staff who doubled as writers would go in and out in pairs depending on what they were working on.

He knocked on the door, three quick beats. When he didn’t get a response, he inched the door open. “George?”

The man in question sat at the long cherrywood table, one hand twirling a pen, the other lost in his curls. “What’s better,” he said, not looking up, “local grocery stores already stocking Valentine’s Day merchandise before the month’s over, or the movie theater’s highest grossing films for this year and what they say about the people of Tulsa?”

“Movie theaters,” he said, leaning against the door frame. “You ready to head home?”

At the table, George scratched “TULSA MOVIE THEATERS” in large, blocky handwriting, making the lines thick enough to see, even without his glasses. “Definitely,” he said. 

He got up, but as he walked toward the door, Robert noticed something on his face. “You’ve still got eyeliner on,” he said, staring at his eyes. 

“Got to chat with the local punk scene,” George said. “They’re a pretty nice bunch, once you stop gawking at them.”

“Good to know,” he said. “It -, uh, it suits you.”

“The eyeliner?” George asked. “I’d agree with you, but I couldn’t see it when Nicole did it. She nearly put me in a headlock though; apparently, I’m squirmy.” He made air quotes with his fingers around the last word. 

“Pamela thinks you’re gangly, and Nicole calls you squirmy,” Robert said, tsk’ing. He opened the front door, holding it for George to exit first. “What does Teri say about you?”

“Bad things, probably,” he muttered, reaching for Robert’s car. He laid a hand on the hood, trailing his fingers on the metal as he found his way to the passenger door. It was quiet outside; Philo usually took care of the station’s graveyard shift, which let the rest of the crew go home at a semi-normal hour. There were only two other cars in the lot aside from his, and he knew one belonged to Stanley while the other was probably Philo’s, though he’d never actually seen the man leave the property line.

Robert came up behind him, unlocking the door, then went to his own side, quickly getting inside and turning on the ignition. He turned the wipers on, clearing out the light dusting of snow they’d accumulated during the day, then reversed, clearing out of the lot before the car had begun to warm up. He reached over, clicking on the radio, and for a few minutes, they drove in silence, only broken up by the soft sounds of Sinatra’s Christmas album.

They made it all the way to the main road before Robert’s concern won out. “Hey, is everything okay with you? Between the glasses and -,” he didn’t want to say “not mentioning your girlfriend to Pam” out loud, so he settled on, “your general demeanor, you’ve been really off today.”

George hunched deeper into the seat, shoulders ‘round his ears. “I’m fine,” he said.

From the driver’s seat, Robert felt his hands grip the wheel a bit tighter than they usually did. He was well-accustomed to George’s moods; he knew everything from the giddy delight he had when the newest issue of MAD came in the mail to the slightly self-destructive depressive tendencies that came with Teri calling it quits, but the quiet sadness, the quiet anything, was never a sign of something good to come. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” George said. He stared straight forwards into the empty night, deliberately avoiding Robert’s gaze. In all their years of living together, he knew George only did that when he was hiding something. He had a shit poker face, mainly because whenever he lied, as rare as it was, he did so while refusing to look at the person he was lying to. 

Robert knew he wouldn’t talk about it on his own, but he’d wanted to give him the chance. Now was the time for him to take out the pliers and pull it out of him. 

He decided to try for the most obvious cause first, then work his way down. “Is it about Teri?”

The thud of George’s head hitting the headrest told him he’d struck gold on his first try. “She wants me to spend Christmas with her family.”

“And that’s -?” Robert trailed off, waiting for George to fill in the gap.

“Not good,” he said. “It’s not bad, either, but I -,” he groaned, threading a hand into the tuft of hair that’d started hanging loose from the rest as months went by with no haircut, “I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to go.”

“Well, why not?”

George scoffed. “Her family hates me, Bob,” he said, voice thick. “All they see me as is the guy that’s terrorized their only daughter for five years. One Christmas isn’t going to change that.”

“It could.” Robert turned off of the main road, pulling onto the side street they lived on. “People are weird about the holidays, especially people like Teri’s parents. They get all holy ‘bout it, wanting to forgive those who trespassed against them,” he said. 

It surprised him; it’d been years since he’d said the Lord’s Prayer, but he still remembered it, at least partially.

“They’re going to want me to go to church with them, and I’m going to embarrass her, again, in front of her parents. I don’t know the words, or the customs, or -,” he spiraled, waving his hands as he spoke, “when to stand up and sit down, and I -”

“George, relax,” Robert said, keeping his voice calm. “Half of the entire Christian population only goes to church on Christmas, Easter, and for, like, funerals and weddings, if they go at all. You’re not going to be the only one there who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“Teri’s parents are Catholic,” he said. “Not Christian, I think.”

“It’s basically the same thing.” He swung into his spot, and turned the car off. “Just mumble through the prayers, don’t take the wafer or wine, and you’re good to go.”

“I don’t think I’m even supposed to go into a church,” George mumbled. 

“Why,” Robert asked, “afraid you’ll burst into flames?”

He knew it was stupid, but it got a laugh out of George, and that’s what he was aiming for. 

“Very funny,” he said, monotone. He reached for the door handle as the car’s engine died.

Together, they left the car, standing in the cold. It was nearly pitch-black outside, save for the streetlights, which cast a warm amber glow onto the pavement below. A few patches of ice remained solid, mostly on the road, but a few scattered on the sidewalk, one of which was too close to George for Robert’s comfort.

“Hey,” he said, stepping over the ice to the other man. He held out a hand close enough for George to see. “Grab on.”

He expected some form of protest, whether it be outright refusal or stubbornness, with or without a comment mentioning how he was a grown man, but like that morning, he said nothing, just stretched his hand out, wrapping his fingers around Robert’s.

Carefully, he guided George up the stairs, taking his time after seeing more patches of ice hiding on the steps. He waited until the front door was open to let go, putting the hand that had held George’s against the small of his back instead, ushering him inside. 

“You can get first shower,” Robert said. “If I make Kraft, do you want any?”

“Yeah, I’ll take some,” he said.

“Try not to slip and break your head open.”

Robert watched as George stretched out his arms, making sure he didn’t run into any door frames again, and kept his eyes on him until he saw the bathroom door shut. Satisfied with the knowledge he wouldn’t have to hunt around for the first aid kit, he reached up to the wire shelves, grabbing one of the twenty-odd remaining boxes of Kraft mac ‘n’ cheese he’d bought at Costco a few months back, and turned on the burner.

-

He’d just finished divvying up the pasta into two bowls when he heard the water turn off in the bathroom. He hunted around for a minute, searching through the drawers, then the dishwasher, until he came up with two clean forks, and set them in either bowl. He brought both bowls to the small hunk of wood they called a coffee table, sitting down on the couch and turning the television on. 

“CBS is doing a M*A*S*H marathon!” Robert yelled. “You down?”

The bathroom door opened, and George shuffled out. From the corner of his eye, all Robert saw was a mass of light gray; after all the times he’d seen the other man do laundry, he knew that George had a tendency to buy his sweatpants and hoodies in matching colors, so seeing just one hue wasn’t out of character. 

Robert patted the cushion next to his. “Come on, it’s dinner and a show.” He shoveled a forkful of macaroni into his mouth and cranked up the volume.

The couch groaned as George dropped down beside him. “Which ep’?”

He watched for a minute, trying to place it. “Think it’s the one where the guy gets the Dear John letter,” Robert said. “God, imagine how much that would suck. You’re fighting a war, the only thing keeping you together is knowing you’ve got someone to go home to, then -” he turned, looking over to George, and - “oh my God, George.”

“What?” George asked, confused. 

He couldn’t help the snort of laughter that came out, but he tried to smother it as best as he could. “I’m sorry,” he said, chuckling. “I’m sorry, it’s just -, you look like a raccoon, dude. Did you use anything to remove the stuff Nicole put on?”

[reconstructwriter]

Twenty Fanfic Writer Questions

Thank you @charmwasjess for tagging me, I feel so loved - spreading the love @panther-os, @s-c-g-s-c-g, @ankahikoibaat

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 

Twenty four. Huh. I need to import more of my stuff from fanfiction.net

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 

How do I find this out… ohh statistics sounds handy. 265k

3. What fandoms do you write for? 

Currently Star Wars, I've also written for Order of the Stick, Percy Jackson, Final Fantasy 7 and Danny Phantom

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Underestimated, Standing Above the Blood, May the Force be Taxed, A Supreme Chancellor to Kill, A Phantom Christmas Carol.

5. Do you respond to comments? 

ohh yes, responding to comments is a reward, one I let myself have once I've gotten the next chapter of the story ready. This motivates me to get a chapter ready for posting faster!

but I usually write out my thoughts first in anticipation of getting to post them

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? 

So far: ‘Yet Each Man Kills the Thing He Loves’. A suicide fic starring a Sith Apprentice who has a Dooku-inspired Sith Master so its toxic relationships: the Fic. I went with non-romantic flower disease in this for extra toxicity plot and while the ending isn’t totally tragic because its implied (1) person lives that’s it.

However ‘Will the Wolf Survive’ may well outstrip it if I go with my knife-twister!

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

Probably Palpatine’s Jedi Holiday. It starts and ends with a holiday and Palpatine is exposed as a Sith in one of the more humiliating ways possible.

8. Do you get hate on fics? 

Yes, the Anakin/Consequences fics I’ve written involving the Tusken Massacre have gotten a certain subset of fans whining about Anakin being characterized as a whiny asshole and/or defending his genocide of an entire tribe down to the babes in arms and their Space-puppies.

I’m salty about it but I’ve managed to hammer out a few chapters running purely on spite.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? 

Eh, I’m ace/aro and on the indifferent/repulsed side of the spectrum so in the rare case when I’m writing romance that leads to sexytimes I tend to dance around the actual physical acts, generally going for M rated instead of E rated.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? 

I’ve read them more than written them but I love crossovers. My craziest published one is over on fanfiction.net: Dresden Files x Predator Series featuring the titular protagonist facing off against a Predator out to hunt down the mythical ‘human wizard’.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

Nope, though that’s a Writer Goal ™

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? 

Nope, though I might not mind later on.

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

This is cruel making me pick just one. I tend to go for vibes on a ship more than specific pairings – foe-yay + hurt/comfort – so if the pairing fits the vibes I’m fine with just about any if at least one is a blorbo. Hypothetically Jaster Mereel/Ferus Olin pairing with those vibes would probably be my greatest wish. Rex/A’Sharad Hett and Jaster/Feemor are very close runners up.

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

My strength is finishing posted WIPs. I’ve yet to post anything and later abandoning it (yet). However on the flip-side my hard drive is stuffed with WIPs from many a fandom where my interest has waned. They will likely never see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths? 

Sheer determination. I can consistently word vomit thousands of words/a dozen pages of work every day (don't tell corporate) and usually have at least a finished rough draft of a story before I post. If not, come hell or high water I will finish my posted WIPs.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Focus. Often those thousands of words are on an unrelated project or ten. Also sometimes what I mean in writing is perfectly obvious to me but not to the reader, resulting in occasional misunderstandings.

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

I'm also gonna go with: does sign language count? I find it interesting and I read this post about this one show with lots of characters who sign and how their signing shows their characterization – I grabbed ahold of that idea and ran with it!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Justice League, Back in the olden days when the animated series was out and my biggest obsession and I hadn’t found fanfiction.net or ao3. Was ao3 around?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? 

of all time…that’s hard but narrowly May the Force be Taxed! I actually got to do the thing where I use my real-world work knowledge and experience for a realistic fanfic. I based the Galactic Republic Tax Law on US Tax Law, Palpatine’s move to change tax law in the middle of tax season is based on President Biden doing the same thing (though of course Palpatine’s decision was considerably more assholish for all parties involved), etc.

It was such fun to write and so relieving – since I wrote this during tax season I got to take out a lot of stress from irl clientele, co-workers and stupid politicians/bankers who really should know better and insert it in this fic. Qui Gon being a terrible record-keeper, Darth Sidious having not nearly enough clues about how taxes worked and the IRS auditors were definitely not my co-workers…

Plus I got to give Palpatine and the Sith in general a fitting fate in the form of a tax bill with nigh-unending zeros that they and anyone else in any way affiliated with the Sith is charged with. The Sith Order Dies because no one is willing to get near the Galaxy’s largest tax bill!

[zarvasace]

PROGRESS POST

(10/4/23)

This is partly for accountability and partly just to get all this out of my head! This last month or two have felt so hectic, getting used to a new work and sleep schedule and all. I'm still not quite there.

If you're curious about what I've been working on and what my plans are in terms of writing and art for the rest of the year, read on. :)

I will say, though, that if you want more of a specific AU or story, the way to get it is by asking questions and leaving comments! Asks and comments remind me about things I'm doing and get me excited about them again! I have these plans, but I also am very good at chasing inspiration to unknown (and sometimes unimportant) corners!

By Fandom

Linked Universe Projects

I've been feeling less motivated to work on LU stuff, but I still plan on at least finishing what I have open, so you can look forward to some of that!

Writing

Disability AU—one small mobility trio fic in the works. A few vague ideas for doing backstory fics.

Council (1931 vampire AU)—this is still the "backburner to backburner" fic, but I do have some fun ideas. I just have been distracted with other things! I think this AU is a lot of fun and I'd love to do more with it. We'll have to see.

The Marvelous Misadventures of Wind and His Merry Band of Maybe-Human Misfits—chapter 7 (out of 9 or so) is in progress. I have it all outlined out, and it's fun to work on, but I have (again) been distracted! This is, I hope, going to be my main December project. It'd be nice to finish before it turns 2 years old next summer. Oops.

I have several other WIPs that aren't very exciting and probably won't see daylight, but they're there if I feel like them

Art

Coloring book—I'm part of the coloring book project! :) I have already finished 1/2 drawings, and they went so well, I'm considering doing more.

Shatterproof manga page—still on my radar! I'm doing the end scene from dazzling diamond danger, and my ambition keeps outgrowing my time.

Four Swords Projects

Writing

Fairytale AU—man I've started this Vidow BatB fic literally five times. I have an almost-complete draft sitting at like... 20k?? iirc, but I kind of hate a lot of it. I also like a lot of it. It's a bit difficult for me to work on rewriting something in that situation. Anyway. Another December thing probably.

Fright Fight—I have ideas for every week, but am currently unsure if I want to draw or write for them. Most of my October will be focused on filling these prompts!

Vampire Lords AU—I have strange as severe is this my fate open right now, with a fair amount of material... it just needs to be edited a bit. I do want to keep working on that, I've just... well. Distraction. A common theme. XD I might be feeling another little bite fic coming on, too.

Art

Fright Fight—see above

Fright Fight part 2—I have a few side things to do for this, like making graphics that I haven't quite finished yet. They shouldn't take long, I just gotta do em!

Non-Fandom

Stickers—I am in the process of drawing some stickers! Yay! These are for my work, but also just for me. I want some Halloween stickers. This is a backburner project.

Nanowrimo project—I need to spend some time figuring out a few things to really get going on my princess-verse. I'm going to be doing Nanolympics this year, so hopefully some of their preptober stuff will help!

Hearts Linked Together—my super-cool Linkverse. XD I love my dumb timeline, and all the characters, they're just filler drawings that I haven't had time to continue.

Secret Zelda project—I really really need to do this! I can't say much right now, but it involves a fair amount of work, both writing and art. I think I haven't gotten very far on it yet because I'm intimidated. Stop that.

Zine edits—I worked really really hard on an art piece for a LoZ zine coming up! This week is critique, and I anticipate a few edits later.

By Month

Facebook posts—a lady I know wants to commission pretty quote images to post on her Facebook. I need to reply to her text. And do them.

September

I primarily worked on the fic Blood-Sucker's Guide to High School. I also worked on and submitted one fic and one piece of art to two different zines, which I hope you'll see soon.

October

If you care, you may have noticed I'm not doing Whumptober this year! Part of this is because I'm a bit burned out from the above, and part of it is that the prompts just didn't seem very inspiring to me this year. Maybe that's just my mindset. I haven't been in a very whumpy mood.

I'm planning on filling weekly prompts for @fsfrightfight this month and maybe chipping away at some other fics, in addition to one more zine contribution. I'm also going to be planning for November and doing some scattered art work here and there.

November

NaNoWriMo! I considered skipping this... but I'm feeling really inspired and motivated to do it, especially with October as a break. I'm going to write some original work, and that will be the focus of my November. I'll likely get some other art done, too.

December

I hope to dedicate this month to finishing things up from this year! That means working on "backburner" projects.

[potatoesandsunshine]

hi anna!! writers ask game 1, 3, 7, 17, 26, 27, 28? :)

yay!!! thank you abby <3

1. the last sentence you wrote

“She is dead,” the Witch of the Wilds says, “we are what remains.”

3. how you feel about your current WIP

good!!! as you know i work on a bunch of ideas all at once whenever the mood strikes me but my current one is very fun! i love to do a ‘we’re using gestures to convey things because saying them out loud is too much to bear’ scene and this fic is gonna have like, five of those.

Lady Morrigan leans forward, reaching a hand across Josephine’s desk—they are not touching, but her fingertips brush the lace cuffs at her wrists and it feels as if they are, as though this gesture is grander than the most sweeping embrace, coming from her. Lady Morrigan’s eyes are golden, the sun streaming through Serault glass or catching on the gilded parapet of the Grand Cathedral, and her gaze is as sharp and deadly as any hunting bird. Josephine sees something in her then, in the closeness—lonely, she realizes, you’re as lonely as I am.

what if they Yearned................ you see it

7. your preferred writing fonts

i used to have strong feelings about this but i have just become a default arial size 11 girl. if i need it to be bigger i don’t even change the size i just zoom in.

17. talk about your writing and editing process

i pretty strictly follow 1) outline 2) write it in order 3) get so happy when i finish the rough draft that i barely do any editing before posting it. the story is at it’s most changeable in the outlining stage; i do a lot of moving around scenes or reordering events then, instead of later! i’m trying to get better about editing in general - forcing myself to sleep on it before doing a pass with fresh eyes, stuff like that - but as soon as i finish something i really do want the instant joy of sharing it.

26. are you able to write with other people around?

only in the general sense if that makes sense? like i used to do a lot of writing at coffee shops and i had no issues with that. i don’t think i would want to write while hanging out with friends or family though. if it’s strangers it’s fine.

27. your favorite part of the writing process

hmmmm i really do love outlining. i’m someone who will have a notes app, a paper outline, and a typed outline + whatever sticky notes are around, and it’s super fun to me! i like feeling like i’m piecing the story together, before i actually have to piece the story together

28. your least favorite part of the writing process

about two thirds of the way through actually writing any given story i lose all confidence in the idea and start to struggle. no matter how good i think it will be! it happens every time! pushing a story across the finish line is always the hardest part.