#been putting off writing a very uh. incredibly self-indulgent fic

[first-only]

Can I say something that might possibly be a 'hot take'?

I really don't like the rise of the whole 'He would not fucking say that' meme (and a lot of its variations). I know it's probably a joke (I'm too autistic to tell how serious people are with it lol.), and I can understand being annoyed when someone writes a character OOC, but OOC-ness is not really that big of a deal. Don't like, don't read, you know

I feel like it's also going to cause a lot of paranoia in fanwork creators, and I don't like that. And I should know, it's caused some paranoia in me (even though I've always been of the opinion that OOC-ness doesn't matter, in fact I celebrate it, just let people have fun. Despite all this, the meme still affects me and makes me worry)

I feel like the only time that OOC-ness can be a problem is when an indivisual/a fandom has a fanon that they like and they don't let anyone disagree with or write differently then that fanon. But I feel like that's not even an issue with OOC-ness, it's an issue with people (usually BNFs) being jerks and trying to get other people to conform to what they want

I don't know, maybe this whole thing is just a communal joke and I'm worrying over nothing. I'm not trying to ruin anyone's fun, have fun with your memes and all that, I just wanted to vent

(This ask is not directed at you FO, I know you're not the type to care about OOC-ness)

hard agreed actually, it's annoying as fuck

i honestly dont think it's that much of a joke to be honest, what with people making posts being all high par Make A Fucking OC and shit like??? who tf are u to tell me what to do lmao. if i want john winchester in a flower dress imma damn well make it, dont give a single fuck how Not Canon Compliant тм it is

thats the fucking point of fandom ya know? literally who cares. this whole thing reeks of the new-wave "it will never be canon so why ship it". like. its fandom material, none of it will be canon, the point is to have fun.

that and that one gross post "theres too much fluff of X" bitch?? i like fluff about X. you dont get to say what everyone creates, you dont have to like all of it. just pick the stuff you like, it isnt difficult.

AND those posts that keep popping up in "proshipper" spaces that go 'i know it's just fiction but guys. content about X chara being Y is /actually/ really bad;///'... it's like people completely forget their fundamental ideology about fiction when their own specific identity happens to be the thing that's bothering them this time. so is content that makes people uncomfortable 'allowed' or not? make up your mind, no doublebacksies. and who tf are you to not allow it in the first place but i guess there's enough people who for some reason get anxious over randos' opinions on the internet to feel bad about it so...

anyway, yeah. personal tastes do not dictate people's politics. this relates to yet another popular discourse lately:)

[boxfullaturtles]

1,10,11,14,16,37,39,42,43,60,65,75

smoly hokes dude okay,,

1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

I think I actually prefer one-shots. Shorter, faster, telling a tiny story rather than a lengthy one. I actually struggle with multi-chapter and it's been years since I finished writing one. Hoping to change that with Adagio...

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

They were eyes that never blinked, never faltered, and captured every moment.

Kinda cheated and dropped the "s" so I would have something to actually share lol. Not telling you which WIP this is from either >:3

[the rest under the cut because this got so long,,,]

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

Uh uh uh b-but I don't I mean I have a lot of favorites I don't have like a tier list this is a lot of pressure um,,

Okay for strictly TMNT fics, I guess I really love Little Scraps of Wisdom by clandestineClairvoyant because it's just. The softest damn thing and I love the characterization of the turtles. Dawning of the Hour by that brilliant bastard Faiakishi has been killing me slowly and I adore every agonizing second of it. And The Lemonade Leak by TurtleSoupSwimmer keeps yanking the rug out from under me just when I think I've gotten shit figured out. Also shout-outs to basically everything Dandy writes but in particular Tapping Out because I relate to that fic so hard and it makes me feel Seen, Violet Neon Nitro by TractorTeeth because fuck me does it scratch that Mad Max itch in my brain box and I LOVE LOVE LOVE the descriptions in it, and The Last Ronin Discord Shenanigans for giving Ronin a happy ending and some very interesting and well written character interactions.

But if we're talking not just TMNT? Then Poor Wayfaring Stranger by lithos_saeculum is one of my number one fics; a FFXV fic and I don't mind if it never gets finished because it's already 60 incredibly well written and amazing chapters that I have reread multiple times. The Good Mourning / Ghost!Jake AU by corruwuption is a Micoverse fic gut punch that I adore and it's written so well and just!! Ahhhgg! Ghost Jake wrecks me every time. And Audience: 822,000 and Homeland Security by WerewolvesAreReal is just. It's my favorite Leverage fic and it's so in character and silly and I absolutely love well-executed outsider perspective fics.

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

As an extremely emotional person who cries about anything and everything, yes and yes. I definitely put myself in the character's shoes. Although this sometimes has a habit of backfiring as I start writing myself into of the character and then have to go back and edit everything. Oops. But yeah I also draw from personal experience where I can. Different people experience different emotions different ways, everyone reacts differently. But having gone through Some Shit helps me understand certain things better.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Uuuhhh something like...eleven? Or twelve fic ideas? I think? Haha can't stop, won't stop lmao heLP

Man I dunno which ones I haven't shared anything about yet...I guess my extremely self-indulgent, almost everybody lives, future au crossover thing that would be a multi-chaptered nightmare of a beast and will likely never be written. I should just mess with that for funsies sometime.

Anyway, here's a sketch thing I never finished based on it. Like I said. Very self-indulgent.

37. How do you choose where to end a chapter?

Eh, vibes. Usually when I'm writing and I feel like I'm near the end of a chapter, I just get a feeling. Like "aw yeah, this is the moment". Once in a great while there is a pre-planned cut off point, a scene I know I want to end a chapter on, but that's an infrequent thing.

39. Share a snippet from a WIP.

You really just want all my secrets, huh?

42. What's the last fic you red? Do you recommend it?

Oh man, looking at my history and everything I've read recently has just been updates from fics I already subscribe to. I haven't had a lot of time to try and read something new... Looks like the last thing new thing I read was a one-shot of 2003 Leo called Oh Shoot by halogalopaghost. And yes, I do recommend it! A very good study in 03 Leo being a fucking dumbass. :)

43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

Do you even know me!? I delight in whump and suffering! I have a Bad Things Bingo Card for a reason! My turtlesona is Goretello! Mad scientists, unethical experimentation, body horror, and non-consensual body modifications are my bread and butter! I am an unashamed edgelord gorehound horror lover!

60. Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

It was like: "ajkdhsfjald omfg this really cool, very talented, very awesome person liked what i wrote omg??" because I am a child. For real though, it's always really flattering to see someone whose talent you admire respond to something you've created! It feels good and it makes you like your thing just a little bit more, I feel.

65. Tell us about what you're most looking forward to writing - in your current project, or a future project.

There's stuff in "Adagio in Green" that I am really looking forward to! Things ramp up rather quickly and I'm very excited to get to the stuff I have planned! Not gonna lie, it gets a little bit...how do I put this...well, I think I've mentioned already that I plan on giving these Rise boys the Farmhouse Arc they were robbed of in the show. That's not the only thing the show's cancellation robbed them of and I'm wedging so much of that shit into Adagio it's almost stupid.

Okay last one...

75. What scene in [Fanfic Name] took you longest to write? What was difficult about it?

Uh well, buddy, you didn't provide me a fic sooooooo guess we're going with "Adagio in Green".

It wasn't just a scene but the entirety of Chapter 6, the chapter that's going up next week, gave me A LOT of trouble. I deviated from my outline (and I'm still deviating from it because of chapter six) and it threw everything out of whack. I couldn't figure out how to get things going. It either felt too rushed or too stagnated.

I feel better about it now that it's actually finished, but I'm still nervous about it.

Actually, I get nervous about every update I post,,,

[katyasrussianaccent]

symptom of your touch (natasha romanoff x reader)

Author's note: This is my first natasha smut fic, been writing it in my head for so long. Hopefully you enjoy this piece of self-indulgent smut!

Summary: You're Tony's personal assistant with a crush on Black Widow. Could it be possible that she might feel the same?

Warnings: Bathroom sex, bottom! Nat.

The first time you met Natasha was in the meeting room at Stark tower. You’d been working as Tony’s personal assistant for about two months now; a job that was both unexpected but incredibly appreciated - the daily bills through your letterbox were getting more and more threatening, red words in large letters demanding money you didn’t have.

You were a friend of Sam’s; you used to jog together before you were replaced by Captain America. You didn’t mind, not really, because well, it was Captain America. You couldn’t compete with that ass. And while you didn’t jog as much, Sam always made sure you were okay.

Like most people; you were a fan of the Avengers. If you had to pick a favourite, it would have been Black Widow. Maybe it was because she was the only woman, but there was something about her that you just really liked. And it wasn’t just because she’s really fucking hot and you’re really gay.

You had walked into the meeting room; your hands full with various drinks. For superheroes, the Avengers were really particular about their drink orders; for instance Thor gets really annoyed if they forget the whipped cream on his hot chocolate. You walked round the room, handing each drink out and trying to not look so obvious as you eavesdropped. You handed Clint his drink and turned towards Natasha. You assumed she had been away on a mission, because she hadn’t been around until now. You swallowed a little; the object of your affections was literally sitting right in front of you.

“Agent Romanoff,” you said, holding out her drink; a matcha green tea latte. She looked at you for a second, a thoughtful look on her face as she cocked her head towards Tony.

“What happened to…..?” Natasha trailed off, looking at Tony expectantly.

“Shannon. Pregnant,” Tony answered, putting his hands out over his abdomen to mimic a pregnant stomach. “She was two seconds away from turning the floor into a slip and slide.”

Natasha scrunched her nose up before looking back at you. She took the drink from your hand, a small smile on her face before she turned back to the team. And it was in that brief moment, that you knew that she was going to be a big problem for you.

It’s a while before you see Natasha again; not that you were keeping check. You’re in the meeting room cleaning up; humming a song as you pick up pieces of paper. The door opens and you look behind to see Natasha standing in the doorway.

“Oh. Good afternoon Agent Romanoff,” you say, smiling. She was in her civilian clothes; a simple tank top and dark jeans. The jeans are practically molded to her shape, and it takes every ounce of willpower to not stare at her ass as she passes behind you. You aren’t sure how someone could make such a simple outfit look so amazing. “Did you need something?”

“Clint, he forgot his phone,” she replies, walking behind you and grabbing the cell phone that lay on the table. “I swear he would forget his head if it wasn’t attached.”

“Good thing he has you to keep him in check.”

She smiles politely in reply but doesn’t respond as she walks towards the door. Your mouth opens slightly to say something, anything, to make her stay just a little bit longer. You fail to do so in time, and you sigh as the door closes and the room is empty again. You aren’t sure what makes Natasha so fascinating, you’ve spoken to her literally twice, but there’s just something about her that makes her so enigmatic. Though you suppose it’s literally her job to be like that, and you briefly think of the people that have fallen under her spell.

It’s strange, how although she’s incredibly dangerous, she feels just like a normal person, a person that could kill you in one move, but a normal person nonetheless.

You’re chopping tomatoes in the kitchen, your mind starting to zone out as you watch the knife slice through with ease. It’s been a long day; while working for Tony has been a lifeline that you desperately needed, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so tired. The fridge door beside you closes, and you startle at the sudden noise, the knife moves from the tomato to your finger, the pain sharp as blood begins to pool in the cut.

“Fuck,” you say, hissing as you press you other hand against the cut, moving to the sink to run it under water.

“I am so sorry,” a voice says behind you, and you turn your head to see Natasha at your side. “Are you okay?”

You sigh a little, “I’m fine, but the tomatoes are ruined.”

Natasha moves nearer to you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from her body and any previous pain you felt has suddenly disappeared at the mere proximity of her. “It’s okay, Stark can afford a few tomatoes.”

You giggle before reaching over to get a paper towel, but Natasha beats you to it, pressing the towel onto your wound wordlessly.

“Baby,” she mutters as you wince and you look at her, mouth agape in shock. She ignores you, and you take this opportunity to look at her as she tends to the small cut on your finger. She must have been somewhere hot on her last mission; from this close you can see the slight colour on her nose and cheekbones where she’s caught the sun. As she moves out of your personal space, the scent of her invades your nostrils and you’re surprised that she smells so delicate and floral.

“I think you’ll live” she says, jutting her chin out to point to the small band aid on your finger.

“Have you ever thought about being a doctor?”

“Why? My bedside manner not appealing to you?” she asks, and you look down to hide the blush on your face as you think briefly about what Natasha’s bedside manner could entail.

“Uh, not at all, it’s very appealing. I mean, not very appealing -”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she says as she leaves the kitchen, leaving you with a bandaid on your finger and a warmth between your thighs.

--

The first thing you notice about the party is how loud it is. It’s Tony’s birthday, so Stark tower has been transformed into a full on party tower. The room is crammed with people, and you take a moment to look around to see if you can find someone you know to attach yourself to. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, you just weren’t the type to spark a conversation with strangers. You can see Thor in the middle of the room, holding a keg as Steve is on the floor chugging from it. Guess even Captain America needs to let loose sometimes.

You bite your lip as you scan the people near you, your eyes zeroing in Natasha. You take the opportunity to watch her briefly from a distance. She looks amazing, a simple black dress that has a slit to the upper thigh that shows a delicious amount of leg when she moves. You haven’t spoken since she called you cute, and the more you thought about it, the more confused you were. While cute was a compliment, you weren’t sure if she meant it in a puppy kind of way. Sexy wasn’t the first thing you thought about yourself, but you kind of wish that she had picked a better word. Maybe you were just imagining tension that wasn’t there because you hoped it was there.

You exhale any nervousness and plaster a smile on your face as you walk towards her. She raises an eyebrow in greeting and you wave at her, immediately regretting it.

“Hi,” you greet and she smiles a little.

“You look nice,” she says, her eyes roaming over your body. Okay, maybe you weren’t imagining things.

You blush, your face feeling warm as you mutter a quiet thanks. “It has pockets,” you respond lamely, putting your hands in them and pulling the dress out, like she needs to be shown what pockets were.

“Drink?” Natasha asks, cocking her head towards the bar. You shake your head. “You don’t drink?”

“I do, just not here. I don’t want to make an idiot of myself in front of my boss,” you answer. You don’t have a problem with alcohol per se, you just never know when to call it quits. And while drunk you is fun, you really want to make a good impression.

Natasha nods in understanding but walks off towards the bar anyway, and you stand there for a second confused before following.

“Two virgin daiquiris,” you hear her say as you get to her. You can see the bartender pull a face at the request, but it quickly disappears when he sees who’s ordering.

“Coming up,” he mumbles, his eyes glued to anywhere but Natasha as he moves with haste.

“I think you scared him,” you comment and Natasha smiles a little, a smug smile that shouldn’t be so sexy, but it really is.

“I get that a lot,” she replies and you hum in acknowledgement. “Do I scare you?”

The question takes you aback and you ponder a moment before answering. “Do you want me to be scared of you?”

“Answer the question,” she says, a little firm in her tone.

“No. No you don’t scare me.”

She purses her lips. “I think you might be one of the only ones not scared of me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing.

“Fear is a very powerful thing. I like the way it feels,” she says, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen her look so vulnerable.

“There are other powerful emotions other than fear,” you reply. You aren’t sure how to respond to her, serious conversation was not your strong suit.

“Like?”

“Lust. Love. Anger.”

There’s a beat of silence between you as you look at each other, your eyes reading over her unreadable face, nothing on her features to give away what she's thinking.

“So you aren’t scared of me. What emotion do you feel?” Natasha asks, causing you to splutter as you take a sip of you drink and you’re suddenly wishing your drink had alcohol in it.

“Out of the three I just gave?” you ask and she nods. “Uh well, I hadn’t um really thought about it.”

It’s stupid of you, to lie to a literal spy and you know for a fact she know’s you’re lying.

“That’s not true,” she replies and you take a sideways glance at her. “You think I haven’t noticed you looking at me?”

Your heartbeat quickens and you start to stammer an apology. “I - “

“I know, because I’ve been looking at you too.”

“Wait what?” you ask incredulously. “Are you sure there’s no booze in this drink?”

Natasha laughs and you smile at the sight of her. “Very sure. You’re very cute, did you know that?”

“I did not, but now I do. I’ll be honest, this doesn’t happen to me a lot, so I’m not really sure what to say or do.”

She slides closer to you, a smirk on her face as she leans close, her breath warm on your cheek. “Well there’s a bathroom over there.”

It takes a minute for you to register what she means, and you can see her wait patiently as you look at the bathroom door across the room and then back at her. The blood is rushing in your ears as you grab her hand and pull her across the room, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The bathroom is luckily empty when you both enter, and your hands don’t leave hers as you push her into the stall furthest away from the door. You open your mouth to speak but it’s interrupted as she surges forward, her lips on yours. She tastes like strawberries with a slight hint of booze, and you wonder how many drinks she’s had before you arrived. You find yourself not really caring as her hands move to your neck, yours follow down to her hips, your fingertips ghosting her back.

You’ve kissed before, but this is different, like fireworks and gunpowder in a small room; every nerve in your body alight with hot, searing fire. You switch her round so her back is against the door, your hands roaming ever inch of her body, tight muscle beneath your fingertips. Part of you wants to take your time, explore every part of her, but the greedy part of your brain wins out and it’s not long before you’ve got one hand moving in between her thighs.

Your mouth is on her neck, licking and sucking at the hollow of her collarbone, a small moan falling from her lips and you want to hear that sound again and again. She opens her legs and you cup her above her panties before going underneath them, your fingers moving past soft curls and into the warm, wetness of her pussy.

You curl your fingers up, and she gasps, her breath hot and fast against your skin. You move them inside her, pumping in and out slowly as her hand grips at your hip. It feels powerful; to have the great Black Widow fucking herself on your fingers in an act of desperation.

“Please,” she whispers as you continue to slowly move.

“Please what?” you ask, stopping completely causing a small whine to escape her lips.

“Please fuck me,” Natasha replies, rolling her hips against your fingers.

“Okay,” you say simply. You press a kiss to her cheek before sinking to your knees. A brief thought about gross bathroom floors crosses your mind, but you push it away as her hand strokes your hair. She takes the hint and pulls her dress up around her hips. Your hands move up her thighs, nudging them apart so you can pull down the lacy underwear she wears; shoving them into your bag. Pressing kisses up her thigh, her breath hitches as your mouth ghosts against her clit. She sighs as your tongue swipes at her once before moving in to circle at her clit with your tongue.

She moans, a low, quiet moan that ends quickly as you both hear the bathroom door open, the chatter of two women filling the once silent room. You look up at her, raising an eyebrow in question. Natasha looks down at you, a slight flush on her cheeks as she nods. You place a finger to your lips, before moving back between her thighs. She tastes sweet, sweeter than you imagined, but there’s something there, a slight tang that makes your tongue tingle. Of course she would taste fucking perfect; everything about her is perfect, and you can’t stop yourself from tasting her more and more, drinking her in.

Your fingers join your mouth and she’s warm as she clenches with every movement inside her. She’s jutting her hips against your mouth, and you can feel your wrist start to cramp as you fuck her roughly, but you know she’s close, the grip in your hair getting harder. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, your knees are starting to hurt, but you want to make her come undone, to fall apart.

You hook her leg over your shoulder to get deeper, never stopping the pace as you fuck her. Her body begins to shudder, and you look up to see her shove a fist in her mouth at the exact moment the toilet next to you flushes. A moan escapes her but neither of you seem to care as she rides the wave of her orgasm. Her chest has a sheen of sweat, and you want to run your tongue over it, taste the salt of her skin. But that’s for another time.

Natasha looks down at you as she tries to catch her breath, and you get to your feet ungracefully, wincing as your knees twinge. There’s uncertainty in your stomach as you look at her. What does this mean, does it mean anything to her? You had just made her cum in a bathroom stall, but maybe that was normal. It wasn’t to you, but normality was subjective.

“This party’s kind of boring, do you want to get something to eat?” Natasha asks, breaking you from your inner turmoil. You blink at her as your brain registers what she’s saying. The once uncertain voice in your head is screaming at you to say yes.

“Sure,” you reply simply.

“Cool,” she says, nodding, her face still slightly flushed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she felt a little awkward.

“I’m not getting those panties back am I?” she asks as you walk towards the bathroom door and head back into the party.

“Nope,” you say, patting your bag for good measure. “Besides, you might not need them.”

--

[ultimatebethylficlist]

Veteran Author of The Month: June 2021

The featured veteran author for June is also a co-admin right here at UBFL: SquishyCool (or @im-immortal )!

SquishyCool can be found on AO3 and FFN under the same penname.

When asked what got her into Bethyl and what the fandom means to her, she said:

I’ve been a hardcore TWD fan since the show began airing, but that’s because of my love for zombies. In all honesty, I didn’t really ship anyone for the first 3-4 seasons. I kind of shipped Daryl with Carol, but then it became clear that it was a platonic relationship and in all honesty, I just wanted to see them both get some action lmao. Then the prison fell... and in those first moments of “Still,” when we see Beth and Daryl running and running and finally collapsing on the ground, breathless and exhausted... the butterflies started. Something clicked and I immediately thought, “uh oh.” The rest is history, especially considering how “Still” and “Alone” played out. I can’t explain how or why I’m still so heavily invested, especially considering my last 2 fandoms only kept my attention for about 2-3 years each, but here I am. And I love it! I am so incredibly grateful for the Bethyl fandom because not only has it helped me improve my writing so much more than I ever could have imagined, but it has also introduced me to some of the most amazing people, including someone who I now consider one of my very best friends! It’s my happy place :)

For her personal fic rec list, she recommends:

In The Maw by ronsparkyspeirs

Way Down We Go by LeathernLaces

Surfacing by lindentree

Wild Things (The Moonshine Poet) by Abelina

The Gift by Feliz

The Man Who Can't Be Moved by burningupasun

New Experiences Series by wallflow3r

Whisper Softly to Me by taylorcatherine

Interstice by leftmywingshome

To Love Like a Man by Seraphique

Death, Death (i defy thee) by alamorn

In My Blood by Courtneyshortney82

Let the Good Times Roll by gutsforgarters

Resolved by Allatariel

the weight of these wings by peachthorns

all my spaces are filled with you by annabeth_writes

A Little Jailbreak with the Little Jailbait by wandering_gypsy_feet

between the beginning and the end by sheriffandsteel

SquishyCool’s Works & Personal Thoughts:

Dirty Fingernails and Dried Blood Summary: What happened during the months between "Still" and "Alone"? Beth uses the last pages of her diary to write down every detail of surviving with Daryl. Thoughts: My first Bethyl fanfic. It holds a special place in my heart for that reason, though it is pretty rough. If I could go back, I never would’ve done it entirely in first-person. But I do plan to finish it one day. There are some scenes I’m particularly proud of, and I still have a long note full of ideas and plot points.

Most Wanted Summary: After Beth’s mother and half-brother are murdered in a drug war, the godly veil on the Greene Family operation is lifted, and law enforcement comes down hard. In an effort to protect her family, Beth commits a heinous crime that could mean life in prison alongside them. Now everyone she’s ever trusted is in police custody and her only chance at freedom is to get as far away from Atlanta as she can... Thoughts: Well, this is a must-read if you like my writing. I hope to one day convert this into an original fiction and maybe get it published, but I need to finish it first LOL. I got the idea from ONE scene of “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” and from there, it exploded into a huge mystery thriller (with lots of romance and smut). I’m really really proud of it, and I’m scared I’ll fuck it up tbh, so I keep putting off continuing it. But I really need to get back to it because I really want people to see what I have planned! (Also, this fic is the reason @courtneyshortney82​ started talking to me, so that alone is pretty historic lmao)

The Crow’s Song Summary: Beth and Daryl spend a few more days together in the funeral home and come to terms with all they've lost along the way. But soon, they must decide what comes next. Thoughts: This fic... this fucking fic. It took me a full year to write. I made numerous edits. I even got a little depressed while I was writing the last two chapters, and my bf didn’t know why until he read what I’d been writing lol. It’s honestly the Bethyl fic I’ve always wanted to write but just didn’t know how. I’m still really really proud of how it turned out.

Carnival Games Summary: Daryl is a traveling carnival worker and Beth is a barely legal farmer's daughter looking for a night of fun when the carnival comes to town. Thoughts: Omg this fic is so fun!! One of my first Bethyl fics, and one of my first Bethyl smut fics. Short, sweet, a little funny, and a lot hot. I am still impressed with myself on this one, especially considering how much my writing has improved since lol

Breathe. Please. Summary: Beth shows up at the Hilltop. Alive. Daryl can hardly believe his eyes. Until she's lying in his bed, an arm's reach away. And he can hear her inhaling... exhaling... inhaling... Thoughts: Another “fix-it” that I’m proud of. Tbh I didn’t think it was anything all that special, but a lot of readers have said it’s one of their favorites, and some say they reread it regularly, and nothing makes me happier than hearing that, so I am extremely proud.

picking @ scabs Summary: Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, being with them just isn't right. But what wouldn't you give for it to be right? Can someone like Daryl learn how to swallow his pride and stop repeating the same mistakes over and over? Can someone like Beth learn to fight off her demons and allow him to get close enough to hurt her again? How can they stay away from each other when it's all too easy to fall back into one another? Picking a scab will leave a scar, but they both have so many scars already... what's a few more? Thoughts: This fic is very, very personal for me. It’s like my “therapy” fic. I have poured some of my deepest feelings and struggles into its chapters, and the whole idea that got me to start it was that I wanted to find a way to navigate and cope with ending my 3-year long relationship with my emotionally/mentally/sometimes physically abusive ex. I still have a lot of fond memories from that relationship, but even more so, I have painful memories. Not to mention, going through your early 20s as a woman in the modern day is a fuckin’ trip, so this kind of explores that. It’s really self-indulgent, I think, but I’m really proud of the smut in it. And more than that, I’m proud of the response. I’ve had a few people message me or comment to say that they’ve felt all those things, or have experienced similar things, and it’s really just... relieving. I put my heart and soul out there, and what I got back was “you’re not alone.” So yeah, this fic is special. I wanna finish it soon, but I have to be in A Mood to do so. 

In Toto Corde Summary: Despite a million reasons not to, Beth and Daryl fell in love. Then he made the ultimate sacrifice in order to keep all of his promises. Now, facing unimaginable consequences at the hands of witch hunters, Beth has no choice but to use her powers to bring Daryl back from the dead. "He won't be the same..." Thoughts: I LOVE THIS FIC. I love it so much that I had to rewrite it after like 4 or 5 years. And I already started on a sequel that I really hope I’m able to finish. Though it doesn’t have many hits, and I don’t think many people have read it at all, which I understand since it basically is entirely focused around Daryl being killed. But damn, I’m proud of this one, and it was really fucking fun to write because witch!Beth is just... the best.

risk it all (part 1 of in for a penny, in for a pound) Summary: Daryl Dixon has a pretty decent life, all things considered. He's got his own place. A good dog. A few friends. Even a girlfriend. He keeps himself out of trouble. Until he starts texting Beth Greene. And hell, if he ain't about to risk it all for this damn girl. Thoughts: This was supposed to be one short multichapter fic focused entirely on smut and social media. Then I got on a roll and it ended up being the beginning of a series! This fic is purely fun. Nothing too serious or heavy. I write it when I’m in a Good Mood because it’s my little happy place. I have plans for about 4 more fics before the series will be finished!

Don’t Make Me Haunt You Summary: So here's the thing: Merle Dixon is dead as fuck. And as it turns out, Beth Greene is the only one who can see or hear him. Which is weird considering she's never met or even heard of this guy, let alone anyone with the last name Dixon. That's her first problem... Thoughts: The reception to this fic has absolutely blown me away. I had no idea anyone would want to read about ghost!Merle haunting Beth and forcing her to solve his murder with the help of his grumpy brother. And it was all inspired by an episode of South Park lmao then I started really getting into it and now it’s just like, my super fun fic where I explore a range of emotions and all kinds of religious beliefs and different mythologies and I can build the world however I want and goddamn I just love writing this fic. Plus there’s a podfic for it! I can’t even begin to explain how much I love this fic and how proud I am of it :)

[lizhly-writes]

creating ocs are hard and I gotta ask, how do you do it? because all your characters are FABULOUS and so good

hello yuki! Thank you very much, I’m glad you think so. That said, I’m going to be honest: this is still something I very much have trouble with.

What have I been doing?  To be honest, I’ve actually been shortcutting the process a little. When I’m writing something self-indulgent and purely for fun, I tend to recycle/reuse well-established OCs. For example, Emily Oakford from my heroine-villainess bodyswap fic is also Aaron Marchand from my brief roommates fic, and both of them are actually tweaked versions of Desima of Scrit Niwe from this fic. 

I do these because these OCs are ones I really like, and I kind of want to see their personalities play out in different situations.  But the real advantage here is that these OCs are, again, well-established.  They’re old.  For example, the earliest iteration of Desima is 9 years old, which means, yeah, at this point?  I’m really familiar with how to write her.  

For these OCs, I’ve already nailed down exactly how they would act and quirks of their narration or dialogue, if they have them.  This means that while maybe they’ll act similarly to each other, they’re fairly distinct from other characters in the same story, because I have a very good idea of what they are and how they react in different situations or compared to other characters. I might have a bit of hard time ironing some kinks out if I’ve changed too many things — for example, I have two versions of this chapter because I changed my mind a few times on exactly how much “Wilhelmina Sterling” changes from “Wilamer of Scrit Niwe” — but overall? It works out.

 If I have to come up with something entirely new? Things are harder.  TL;DR, it takes time and it takes practice, writing their POVs over and over again until you get the feel of them.

Now, uh.  Apparently I actually have a lot of opinions on this that I didn’t know I had, so the essay is under the cut.  I’m warning you, this is real long. And uh.  Also kind of rambly.  I’ve probably repeated myself a lot, but I don’t feel like going back and editing, so here you are.

The Essay

Hi.  I see you’ve clicked on the read more. 

Let’s consider Rose Beckett and Allison Lee, from that same heroine-villainess bodyswap fic I mentioned earlier. I don’t think either of them are particularly well-established yet, but they’re the newest OCs I have that I actually have to put effort into developing, so what I’ve done for them is fairly fresh in my mind.

I absolutely do not have a set process, no matter how nice it’d be if I did, but let me gather some commonalities between them.  Those commonalities are, in no particular order:

Events/Plot

Vibes

Profiles

Self-Indulgence

Practice

Got it?  Cool.  Here we go.

Events/Plot:

For Allison, I started here. I wanted to write a story with otome isekai tropes in which our transmigrated character 1) would make certain assumptions about what was happening around her 2) actually had to expend effort into pretending to be the person who’s body she was in. So I wrote it — as in, I wrote some scenes in which I wasn’t really paying attention to the character herself so much as particular scenes I wanted to happen.

This helps you out with getting a feel of how writing your character might be like and helps you backtrack a little on what personality traits they might have. For this event to happen, they must have this motive or this personality trait that makes things possible.

If I need Allison Lee to make those certain assumptions, she’d need a pretty perfect memory of what was supposed to be happening. If I need Allison Lee to successfully pull off pretending to be Wilhelmina Sterling for a certain period of time, she has to be incredibly cautious, decent at finding information about the person she’s pretending to be, and diligent to work on those bits of her that don’t match up. And if I need her to actually expend effort to do this? She can’t have inherent similarities of personality to the other character.

If this, therefore that. If this story must go in this direction, if this event must take place, if this line needs to be said, what kind of person does your character need to be to make it happen?

Vibes:

For Rose, I started here. I’m talking about what I want a character to come off as. Sometimes, this is centered around a singular personality trait — this character is shy, this character is outgoing — and I really do just that with characters that I’m not particularly interested in developing (this character is shy, therefore I’m unloading everything I think someone I think is shy would be).

Sometimes, it’s structured around a character archetype. For Rose, I wanted something very specific: that is, ‘stereotypical otome heroine’, which comes with some set personality traits that I would consider genre standard (not that they actually are, mind you). Some naivety, a little bit of black-and-white mentality, maybe a thing about honor — you know, a little bit of incorruptible pure pureness? — a tendency to make assumptions, maybe she’s a little bit of an underdog, and we’re messing with the otome isekai genre, so let’s put a little bit of romance on the mind.

There we go. Write a snippet of this character’s point of view. Does it give off the vibes you want? Do you like how it’s going? If you don’t, why not? Workshop and revise until you think have it right.

Profiles

I’m sure you’ve seen character profiles before. Background, appearance, age, whatever. Those are nice to have as character motives, reason as to why that characters acts as they do. This is either 1) a summation of what you’ve figured out from the plot or the vibes you want your character to give off 2) a jumping off point for the other two.

For me, it’s both. I gather out the personality traits I’ve figured out and made myself a reference sheet on what my character should act like, any particular quirks in their narration, the things they’d latch onto when faced with a particular situation, maybe even some physical gestures.  Things to keep track of whenever I’m writing.

Excerpt from Allison’s profile:

Allison is defensive: defend, retreat, farewell.

Her narration style snarks. She’s in a deadly situation, she deals with it with coming up with nasty things to say about people and fun little theories about what people might like. She’s funny, though she doesn’t mean to be, and she’s using it to cope with her really terrible situation.

Personally, I find comparing them to other characters helps a little — this character has a similar motivation to that character, this character will use more profanity in their narration than that character, this character is more aggressive than that character. This might just be a feature of me finding it easier for me to write different versions of a character than creating them out of whole cloth — modifications of a template, you see?

Excerpt from Allison’s profile

She actually serves as a good contrast to Claire. They are both high achieving, hard-working students that want to know more about magic. Allison, however, is far less curious and far more antisocial.  She’s far more pessimistic and mentally exhausted.  She doesn’t crave knowledge or relationships like Claire does -- in fact, she doesn’t care like Claire does.  Her general rule of thumb is “the world is so weird, this might as well happen.” 

Her morals actually align with Emily’s quite well, in the sense of “this isn’t my business, so I don’t care,” but with even less curiosity involved, because Emily will at least take a look if she thinks it’s related to her own issues.  Allison is purposely blind, as opposed to Claire’s ‘leaping in eyes open wide’ thing.

Self-Indulgence

You’re the writer. You get to do whatever you think is fun. The entire reason why the story Rose and Allison are part of exists in the first place was because I wanted to see an otome isekai/transmigration fic that caters to my tastes. Do whatever the fuck you want.  Give a character whatever traits you want to see.

So I want Rose to give off stereotypical female lead vibes, that doesn’t mean she has to fit that mold exactly. I tend to think that not a lot of female leads try solving enough of their problems with their fists. When they do, sometimes it’s perfect. More often, it’s… underwhelming.

Which is the reason why I gave Rose a sword. A sword, the sheer enjoyment of actually using one — I made a note in the character profile for this, actually —

Excerpt from Rose’s profile

…she’s actually quite smart — she did get into the school through scholarship, after all — but, being as smart as she is, she’d really rather solve things physically and/or bluntly.

— and also the willingness to start fights, because who doesn’t love an otome isekai heroine who will actually start a brawl. Not a fight, not a duel, I’m talking about a brawl. Come on, have you seen one of those? Yes? Well, I haven’t, so I’m throwing it in.

Take out whatever you like, as well. When I set up a character profile for Allison, I initially gave her some social anxiety and made her a little bit meek, to set her up for some kind of character arc and to give a bit of a contrast to Wilhelmina. The thing is? It wasn’t fun to write and ended up being a little bit of a downer, so I just took it out. There you go. Don’t be afraid to change anything.

Practice

Here we go. The advice everyone hates hearing. Practice. That is — practice writing out snippets with your characters. Technically I’ve actually suggested this twice already -- maybe even three times, if you count the TL;DR -- but it bears repeating.  Write some scenes with your OCs! These snippets don’t have to be ‘canon’ — put them into any kind of situation you like!  Whether you shove them in an awkward love confession or if you’ve had them kill a man, it’s going to give you a better handle on them.

I did this with both Allison and Rose, just to make sure that I actually knew how to write them, you can see some examples here (though with Rose, I was definitely playing her off a more established character just to give me something to hold on to).

This, by the way, is also why my ‘well-established’ characters are so well-established -- years of throwing them around in different scenes, different situations, a thousand variations of the same theme.   Even throwing them in whatever story I happened to be interested in at the time just for fun -- I am pretty sure, if I dug deep enough in my word documents, I could find a few snippets in which I threw Desima into Puella Magica Madoka or Miraculous Ladybug -- means that you get practice writing them. 

How’s it going?

Now. Do I know how to write Allison and Rose?  It’s unclear.

Like I said: these are fairly new OCs. At this point in their development, I will inadvertently channel how I would think, act, and talk in a situation rather than how they would, and I have to go back and change things. Rose and Allison both don’t have very distinct dialogue/narration markers yet -- Allison is actually just directly using my own speech patterns -- and I’m not that experienced with writing them, especially since, if I’m writing in chronological order, Rose isn’t even in the story yet.

But, you know.  It takes time to iron out the kinks.  There will be new events I think should happen, new character motivations that occur to me, maybe some more fun things I want to throw in.  Your character is going to change as you keep writing -- I updated Rose’s profile like, three days ago, because I decided I needed to verbalize some more things about her thought patterns so I could remember it when I actually have to write her.  I imagine I’ll end up at two fully developed characters at some point, and yeah, it’d be great if I got there sooner than later, but hey.  There you go.

Anyway.  That’s mostly what I have to say about character creation.  Good luck on creating your own OCs! 

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

words fall flat (like cymbals crashing)

A/N: apparently the only fic I have motivation to write anymore is for the Mandalorian. anyway, have this INCREDIBLY self-indulgent fic with aroace din djarin, aro cara dune, and a heaping helping of hurt/comfort and mandalorian culture. enjoy! (title is from Constellations by The Oh Hellos)

Summary: Cara checks up on Din after the events on Moff Gideon's Imperial cruiser. Problem is, neither are them are very good at talking about emotions- but Cara figures out how to comfort Din in their own way.

Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, awkward conversations, sort-of coming out, platonic cuddling, hugs, implied crying, bittersweet/hopeful ending

-

Din was distant after the jedi- Luke kriffing Skywalker- had taken Grogu and then their little haphazardly put together rescue crew got back on Fett’s ship. Not that Din was all that reachable of a person to begin with, Cara noted. But now he was even more withdrawn, and he seemed almost fragile despite all the armor he wore. Cara was sure she’d never forget watching the way Din’s hands trembled as he put his helmet back on- kriff, he had shown his face. Cara didn’t actually see his face, just the back of a surprisingly curly head of hair (out of everything, she never pictured her stoic friend with curly hair). So on top of losing his kid and unwittingly earning the right to Mandalore’s throne, he had broken his code as well. Surely he was not as put together as his gruff, standoffish behavior implied.

Hence why Cara was more or less lurking in the shadows near where Din was sulking in the storage unit aboard the Slave I. Fett had advised to “let him alone, Marshal,” in that rough and indifferent-but-really-he-was-fooling-nobody tone of his. But Cara felt that the last thing that Din needed was more space from people he cared about, so she stepped out of the shadows and closer to where Din was sitting on top of a storage container. At first glance, she thought he was cleaning his weapons, but as she came closer she noticed he was fiddling with a small silver ball- the same one that Grogu had been so attached to. Then, strangely enough, he pressed the ball to his helmet, just above its visor and where his forehead would be beneath it. Cara suddenly felt like she was intruding, and from the way Din jolted and scrambled to put the ball in a pouch at his side, she definitely felt like an intruder.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” she started, but was cut off with a wave of Din’s hand.

“It’s fine. I’m- I’m glad it was you,” Din replied, sounding uncharacteristically shy. Cara smiled softly, walking closer and taking a seat next to him on the storage container.

“I just wanted to check in on you, after… everything,” Cara finished lamely. Din huffed out a breath that could have been a laugh, a sigh, a sob, or some mix of the three.

“Thank you. I- I’m- he’ll be safe. With the jedi,” Din said, sounding like he was more trying to convince himself than Cara. A chuckle escaped Cara’s lips, despite everything.

“Trust me, there is nowhere safer than with Luke Skywalker for Grogu. I never knew him personally, but the guy’s a rebel hero. It was his shot that destroyed the first Death Star, and he had a hand in overthrowing the Emperor and destroying the second Death Star. Plus I think his sister has a seat in the New Republic Senate now. The point is that he’s powerful, and that he has powerful allies. Grogu will be okay,” Cara assured him. Din let out another breath, and this time it was definitely a sigh.

“Thank you. That… that helps,” Din replied, sounding much more at ease than when Cara had first checked in on him.

“I’m glad,” Cara said, affectionately clapping him on his knee- and startled a bit when Din jumped at the touch.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t be, I guess I forgot that Mandalorians aren’t exactly touchy-feely people,” she interrupted him, giving him a soothing smile.

“And I am certainly no exception,” Din muttered under his breath, but as Cara was sitting so close to him, she heard it anyhow.

“What do you mean?” Cara asked, brow furrowed in confusion. Din swallowed nervously and seemed to shrink in on himself a bit, which would have been comical if every fiber of his being didn’t seem to be etched with embarrassment.

“I’ve… never really desired any sort of closeness. As teenagers, my fellow foundlings seemed to be interested in finding someone to be close with, but those sorts of desires never really occurred to me,” Din explained awkwardly.

“What sort of desires?” Cara asked with a raised eyebrow, somewhat understanding what he was getting at, but she wanted to be absolutely sure. Din fidgeted for a moment or two before making an irritated sound.

“I’ve never wanted any sort of intimacy or romance. Not even with Omera. Sure, the idea of having someone to come home to and start a family with sounds nice, but…” Din trailed off, sounding just as lost as when he had taken off his helmet to say goodbye to Grogu.

“But in reality it feels wrong,” Cara finished, understanding where he was coming from, at least a little bit. Sure, there were… ahem, other desires that were appealing to her, but romance? Definitely not her thing. Din’s head shot up at Cara’s words, struggling to form words of his own for a moment or two.

“You- yeah, that’s it,” he said, dumbfounded.

“I get how you feel- at least on the romance part. Although, uh, intimacy, as you put it... that I’m more down with. And I’m definitely more of a casually affectionate person than you,” Cara replied, cringing internally at her choice of words. This wasn’t something she really talked about a lot, and it felt like everything was coming out all jagged and lopsided. But fortunately, Din seemed just as out of his comfort zone as she was, and therefore didn’t mind.

“I mean, I don’t mind affection. It just surprises me, is all,” Din said sheepishly. Cara slowly reached out, gently grasping Din’s hand when he didn’t move to stop her. She gently rubbed her thumb in soothing circles on the back of Din’s hand, and he all but melted at the touch. Kriff, if this is how he reacted to some hand-holding, he’d probably implode if she ever tried to hug him.

“When’s the last time you’ve gotten a hug?” Cara blurted, startling Din out of his calm reverie.

“I… I mean, I would hug Grogu sometimes, but his arms are a little small to really hug back. He could always return a kov'nyn just fine though,” Din said fondly.

“Cove-what?” Cara asked, head tilted to the side in confusion.

“Kov’nyn. Sometimes it’s called a keldabe kiss. I had learned it from my Buir- the Mandalorian who found me and took me in. It can be a violent action, but I’ve mostly known it as an affectionate one. It… might be easier to show than to explain,” Din replied, seeming nervous again.

“Then go ahead and show me. If you want,” she said, hurriedly assuring him that she didn’t want to force him into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. Din took a deep breath, then reached out with his free hand and rested it on the nape of her neck, fingers gently tangling in her hair. He carefully pulled her forward until her forehead was resting against his. The moment her skin touched the cool beskar of his helmet, it felt like something had snapped into place- and dimly she realized this had been the same thing Din had done with Grogu’s silver ball.

“This is a keldabe kiss. It’s a form of greeting between Mandalorians and their loved ones,” Din said, shifting as if he was going to move away, but Cara grabbed his forearm with her free hand and halted his movements. Din let out a soft, almost broken sound, and Cara moved on pure instinct. She shifted closer and threw both arms around Din’s shoulders, now practically in his lap and forehead still learning against his helmet. Din responded in kind, one hand still firmly buried in the hair at the base of her neck, while his other arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her entirely in his lap. He let out a shaky sigh that could have been a shallow sob, but Cara didn’t comment on it. If Din needed to be held as he cried, Cara was more than willing to do so for him.

-

The Marshal and the newfound Mand’alor had been absent from the cockpit for far too long, in Fett’s opinion. So he entrusted the controls to Fennec, and made his way to the storage unit that the Mand’alor had been hiding away in. The sight that greeted him, however, was one that he never would have predicted. The Mand’alor, looking incredibly vulnerable for a man in pure beskar armor, had the Marshal in his lap, holding her close as he leaned his helmet against her forehead in a keldabe kiss. Fett smiled in spite of himself. Whatever happened, whether Princess ended up with the Darksaber or not, Fett was glad that the current Mand’alor had someone he could rely on.

-

post-fic notes: this whole fic was an excuse to write aroace din, keldabe kisses, and platonic cuddling between a man and a woman. the aro cara just sorta snuck up on me, as well as boba fett being a caring and concerned pal. oh also i personally hc fett as being the type of person to not call people by their first name unless he has a strong bond with them (you can read his relationship with fennec here however you'd like, although i like them as just buddies). i also hc his reaction to din getting the darksaber as "oh you're the king now, cool"

anyway thanks for reading, also pls reblog cause validation is my lifeblood

[aurorawest]

What is “are you courting my brother, Strange?“

This is a super self-indulgent thing that I’m not sure will ever turn into an actual FIC fic...or if it does, it will be years from now. It takes place during my main series, sometime after Thor and Loki have returned to Earth. Basically I really wanted to write a conversation where Thor sort of confronts Stephen about what is obviously going on, but Thor is incredibly awkward. He’s not trying to warn Stephen off, but he does want to make sure Stephen’s intentions are good, because he likes Stephen and he thinks he’d be really good for Loki. But of course Stephen has not made any kind of move officially, and there’s technically nothing romantic between him and Loki. So the whole thing is just ridiculous.

I cackle every time I read this, I personally find it very funny, though idk if anyone else will. Here’s an excerpt:

“Uh,” Stephen said, wishing he hadn’t decided to stand in the corner for this conversation. Thor had him boxed in. “I—um—do people really still say courting? That’s an old-fashioned word—”

“Oh—no,” Thor said, holding a hand out. Stephen tried not to flinch. “Don’t mistake me. If you are, I think that’s fine; I mean, that is, Loki is an adult and he can take care of himself, he doesn’t need me to look after him.”

Stephen nodded carefully. “Okay.”

Thor cleared his throat, looking as though he’d lost the thread of this conversation already. Stephen wished he would. But then, awkwardly, Thor asked, “So? Are you?”

Putting his hands up, Stephen said, “I think there’s probably been some kind of misunderstanding.”

“I don’t think so,” Thor said, still sounding very awkward. “Loki may not understand, Strange, but I do.”

“Yeah, um.” Stephen cleared his throat. Why did he feel like he was choking? “That’s the thing, Thor, there’s nothing to understand. Loki and I—I mean, there is no Loki and I; your brother and I are friends, sure, but that’s it.”

“Loki says you aren’t friends,” Thor said. “He reminds me of it frequently. Very frequently.”

Stephen nodded slowly. “Uh huh.” Great. Thanks, Loki.

Shifting from one foot to the other and crossing his arms over his chest, then putting them back on his hips, Thor said, “You do like him, do you not, Strange?”

“I mean.” Shit. This felt like a trap. “Sure. I like him a normal amount. Doesn’t…doesn’t everyone?”

“Not really,” Thor said. “People find my brother…difficult.”

“High maintenance,” Stephen muttered.

Thor looked delighted to be understood. “Yes. Exactly.” Then, his expression growing serious again, Thor said, “I just thought that I had noticed you taking an…an interest in Loki. A romantic interest.”

Right. Just in case that hadn’t been clear.

Clearing his throat again—god, what was in there?—Stephen said, “Yeah, look, Thor, I don’t…if I’ve done something that’s offensive or…or something…” Like staring at the Prince of New Asgard’s ass? Like imagining him naked? Like thinking about him saying the kinds of things that Loki had never, ever said to him? “I hope I didn’t do something to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Yeah. Good. Bland. Meaningless. Neither admitting nor denying guilt. And oh boy, was he guilty.

Thanks for asking!

WIP tag game

[mccnglade]

many reasons; dazai osamu

DAZAI OSAMU X READER

In hindsight, you should have realised that running after Dazai was not a good decision on your part...

WORD COUNT: 1.8K words

WARNINGS: mentions of suicide, abuse (not reader's), angst (if you squint), fluffy ending. MILD SPOILERS FOR BUNGO STRAY DOGS SEASON 3

(e/c) - eye color

A/N: sorry if the formatting is a bit wonky!! i'm posting this on mobile because tumblr doesn't work on my stupid, old laptop.

this fic is really super, self-indulgent because dazai is my favorite in bsd and i love when situations like the one in this one shot happen in anime, so i combined the two things and wrote this. this was actually going be a scene in a dazai fic i'm thinking of posting on my wattpad, but i decided to scrap it and write it as a oneshot. i hope you all enjoy reading this!!

Also shoutout to @neonghxst who wanted me to finish this one shot hehe. thanks to her, i got the inspiration to actually write this and finish it.

"Are you sure we should have left him like that?"

You fiddled with the ends of your coat sleeves. Upon hearing about Atsushi's new case and the end result, you immediately wanted to give the boy a hug and never let him go. He had been through so much these past few weeks and hearing about the death of that abusive headmaster of his old orphanage must have been incredibly painful.

But Dazai had promptly pulled you away, after saying exactly what needed to be said. (He always knew what to say in any kind of situation and that made you feel jealous a lot of times)

"Things like that are meant to be dealt with alone. Atsushi-kun will manage," Dazai answered with a cool tone. "You worry too much, (Y/N)-chan."

He tried to ruffle your hair but you slapped his hand away with a huff.

"I have every right to worry, you know," You crossed your arms, angrily staring at the ground. You and Dazai had already left the port area and now were back in the city, walking next to each other. "He and Kyouka just...I just wanna give them both a hug and adopt them as family."

This time, Dazai successfully managed to ruffle your hair."You are very funny, (Y/N)-chan."

"I'm not being funny! I'll actually adopt them, just you wait and see."

"As amusing as that would be, I'm gonna stop you there."

"Why?"

"Well, it's nighttime now. And we are almost near the river. The moon's pretty bright today. Which means one thing and one thing only."

"What, Dazai?"

"It's the perfect time for a double suicide!" 

Dazai suddenly grabbed you by the waist and spun you around. You felt your face grow warmer as he kept his hands on your waist, meanwhile going on about the benefits of a double suicide.

"D-dazai! Let go!" You physically tried to struggle out of his grip, knowing that your Ability was useless in this situation. "Just let go, dumbass!"

"Nope, not gonna." 

Dazai let go of your waist, but then immediately grabbed your hand. But you managed to pull it away. He stuck his tongue out at you. "You are no fun, (Y/N)-chan."

You glared at him. "How many times do I have to tell you no, you bandage squandering idiot?!"

"Ahh!! You sound so much like Kunikida-kun! Why didn't you tell me you were so great at impersonating others?"

"Huh?! What's that supposed to mean?" You went to shove his shoulder but he dodged it,  jumping aside with his annoying (endearing) laugh. You tried to hit him again, but he dodged this time too and started running.

"Oi, Dazai! Come back here, you idiot!"

You ran too, trying to catch up to him so that you could, at least, flick his forehead before slapping him. Why was he so annoying, you always wondered. 

'Isn't this why you like him?' Your heart whispered to you.

'Shut up,' You told it.

You kept on running. Even as you did, the sun had almost set, taking its red and orange hues and replacing it with the dark, navy blue of the night sky. The running brought you to the river bank, a spot where both you and Kunikida had to drag Dazai out of. For some reason, he declared this spot and drowning as his top favorite for a double suicide.

It was incredibly annoying, but at the same time, also incredibly saddening and you wished you knew more about why he was like this.

Finally, you caught up with him. 

In hindsight, you should have realised that running after Dazai was not a good decision on your part. 

Both of you stumbled down the river bank, holding onto each other because there was nothing else to grab onto. The slant river bank ended and they were on flat ground again.

But...but, both of you were in a rather compromising position. 

Usually, you were a pretty confident and self-assured person. But when it came to situations like these (or any romantic situations)…well, you were still pretty inexperienced. So inexperienced actually that you hadn't kissed anyone in a long while, almost two years to be exact. Relationships had always seemed like a waste of time to you, but being in such close proximity of the man you currently yearned for was doing wonders for your heart. (In a good way and a bad away)

Dazai's arms were on your shoulders, pinning you to the ground. He loomed over you, his brown eyes staring right into your (e/c) ones. 

You swore you could detect something there before it was hidden behind his mask again. 

No longer were you able to keep the warmth away from your face. You knew you probably resembled a tomato right now. You wanted to get out of this position quickly, but deep down, your mind and your heart both resisted. And you felt like agreeing with them this time. You wouldn't get a chance like this ever again.

So you decided to speak.

And immediately regret it.

"Your eyes are pretty," The combined forces of your heart and mind make you say something stupidly embarrassing and you immediately want to cover your face. But you can't. So you continue.

Even the darkness of night couldn't keep the redness of your cheeks hidden. 

"I mean, they're not just an ugly brown color. They have this amber-like quality to them. And everytime light hits them, they almost shine and it makes them more beautiful than I ever thought. Like seriously, you have really beautiful eyes. Personally, your eyes are your best feature and they're one of the many reasons I fell for you."

(You wanna crush your own stupid heart for that last bit.)

"Oh?" That was all Dazai said, that stupidly endearing smirk on his face. "Many reasons? What are they again?"

"Um, uh," You hesitated, turning your head to the side. This was more embarrassing than any other situation you had ever been in. There was nowhere else to go and while you could have kicked Dazai away with ease, truth be told you really didn't want to do that. How many chances like this would you ever get? "I don't even know when I started liking you. And maybe it's a stupid thing because nothing is ever going to come out of it, but yeah. I have feelings for you, Dazai Osamu. Truth be told, I can sort of understand why you ask women to commit a double suicide with you. You want someone to be by your side, right? You don't want to be lonely when you die. I guess I can understand that, though I wish I could show you the joy in living. But I don't think I'll ever be able to change your mind."

You laughed nervously, looking anywhere but at Dazai's face, where his smirk had been replaced by a more serious look. "I went on a totally different tangent there, didn't I? You can forget that last bit but to sum up everything, I have feelings for you. I don't expect you to return them anyways so...yeah."

Now, you looked at Dazai. His expression was unreadable. You couldn't understand what emotions were written on his face. You didn't even know what he would do next. Would he reciprocate your feelings? Would he reject them? What would he do? You wanted answers and you weren't getting them.

Then again, it was partly your fault also. You suddenly sprung these feelings on him. You shouldn't expect him to answer quickly. 

(Secretly, you also thought that Dazai wasn't the type of person who'd ever truly  love someone. It was just your stupid luck he was the person you fell for.)

Unexpectedly, Dazai suddenly moved off you, giving you the opportunity to finally sit up and contemplate your next moves.

'Should I just run away?' You thought, thinking about the pain of rejection. You'd deal with it. Somehow. 'It's the coward's way out. But what more can I do?'

"If you're thinking of running away, don't," Dazai suddenly said, meeting your eyes with a stare so intense that you swore he could read every single thought in your mind. 

"That was not what I was thinking," You clearly lied, crossing your arms. 

"You know, I can tell that you're lying, my Belladonna," Dazai put his hand on your cheek, his slender fingers brushing away the stray strands of hair on your face. "You are not a very good liar."

"D — wh-what?" You froze up completely. Because as much as you would like to deny, even an action like this left you wanting more. His hands were inexplicably warm and strangely soft. You couldn't even think about running away now. Dazai put his other hand behind your back, pulling you close to him. Close enough that your noses were almost touching and you could see the little flecks of amber in his pretty brown eyes. 

"D-do you also h-have feelings f-for me?"

What the hell was wrong with your voice? You wanted to ask your question again, but your words died in your throat. 

Instead, your heart chose to speak. You tilted your head slightly, barely brushing your lips against his. Even this small action sent volts of electricity coursing through your body. But then, your courage fizzled out and you tried to move back. 

Key word; tried. 

Dazai put his hand at the back of your head and pulled you closer, finally,  freaking finally, kissing you. 

You wished you could describe what you were feeling, but you really couldn't. Your mind was completely shut down and all you could really think was, that you were floating. And since it was your one of the few kisses you had in your life, you didn't know what to do. So you kept on pressing your mouth against Dazai's, trying to have more; trying to feel more of him. 

It was strange, it felt so strange. But kissing Dazai felt incredibly…amazing. Yeah, amazing. Just him and you and nothing else. You felt like you could touch the stars now and you didn't want it to end. You wanted to keep on doing this forever, or as long as both of you could. 

But then, Dazai suddenly ended the kiss, pulling back with a lazy grin.

You stared at him, breathing heavily. And then, you let your head fall onto his shoulder, grabbing onto to the front of his cream-colored trench coat. 

"Does that answer your question, (Y/N)-chan?" He asked with a sing-song voice, suddenly hugging you. 

"So you do like me?" Your voice was muffled by his coat, but you knew he heard you clearly. 

His lips were pressed onto your neck, moving with his answer. You understood it immediately. Releasing his coat from your hands, you hugged him back.  

You knew this moment wouldn't last very long, but you would revel in it for now. 

It was going to be the only thing on your mind for a very long time.

a/n: i hope this was a fun read! with this quarantine, i've been thinking of attempting to write more character x readers because they are good practice for writing a multi-chapter fic. so you might see more bsd, haikyuu and bnha content on here. I might also post about DC so let's see.

My wattpad

[princessthotty]

Catch Me (Villa Dell’amore Series)

Catch Me

Ravn x (y/n)

Rated: M for later chapters

Chapter 2 “What Was That?”

"So cute" You replayed the words over and over in your mind. 

The extremely attractive young man you made a complete fool of yourself in front of called you cute. YoungJo. Ravn. Even his name was cool. It was enough to make anyone's heart flutter. 

You're standing in the kitchen roughly chopping vegetables with the stupidest grin on your face.

"Ew, why is she making that face " came the disgusted remark from KeonHee, who sat at the kitchen table behind you flipping through a magazine. "Is she having a stroke or something?” DongJu snickered next to him at the table, helping you peel potatoes for dinner.

Sending a half hearted glare over at the two, you turn back around and rub your cheeks that were sore from smiling so much. Even you knew your expression was disturbing, but you couldn't help it. It had been such a long time since anyone has made you feel all soft and bubbly inside, you couldn't help but savor the moment for as long as possible.

"Besides," You thought, continuing to chop what was in front of you. "The way he said that was way too smooth, he probably talks to everyone like that." Though that didn’t seem to help ease your thoughts.

The staircase creaked loudly under the sudden weight as three young men barreled down into the kitchen. "(y/n)," SeoHo called, one of his stunning smiles spreading across his face as he entered. “Is it your turn to cook dinner tonight?” He came over and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, curious on what you were doing.

You playfully pushed him off of you. "Yes, and if you don't wanna end up becoming part of the meal, you better be careful when someone has a knife." You waved the knife exaggeratedly in the air away from you both, not wanting to actually injure either of you.

A gentle hand grasped your wrist, removing what is potentially, in your clumsy hands, a deadly weapon. "That's enough of that. For such a good cook, I'm surprised at how clumsy you can be." Leedo sighed, placing the knife down on the counter.

Everyone snickered at the young man's comment, including yourself knowing how correct this was. Though it had only been a week or so since you had moved in, all of you had become very comfortable around one another almost instantly. They all felt like the older, and younger, brothers you had never been able to experience growing up.

Through the voices, an unfamiliar yet sweet laugh caught your attention. You whipped your head around to see YoungJo nonchalantly leaning against the door way, his laugh filling the room with a sweet sound. A small blush spread across your cheeks watching him laugh, his beautiful lips curled into a smile and his eyes that are staring directly into yours-

You immediately turn your head away, not realizing you had been staring straight at him, and he straight back at you. Heart beating out your chest, you felt yourself nervously sweat hoping no one noticed how incredibly weird you were being.

"Wow, you're so lucky Ravn, your first night back and you already get to taste the best cooking you've ever had!" Seoho bragged for you, feigning tears from how delicious your food was. You rolled your eyes pretending to ignore his praise, though you were still trying to calm your hot blush.

"Oh, Ravn already met (y/n)?" Dongju innocently asked, looking between the two.

Your eyes wide with panic you look over to see Ravn stifling a small laugh. "Ahem," he cleared his throat, attempting to compose himself as you send him wild pleading looks to not disclose the nature of your first meeting. "Of course, it would be rude not to introduce myself to our new house mate." He said coolly. If anyone knew how relentless they could be with teasing, it was Ravn, and it was also something he did not want to deal with.

"Oh thank god," You mentally cried, a sigh of relief leaving your lips.

"Oh, I know what happened!" Keonhee suddenly shouted.

You both instantly froze.

Keonhee pointed at the older man. "Ravn must have hit on (y/n), that player." He sat back down, a self indulgent smirk across his face.

Leedo walked over and put a hand on his shoulder sadly. "Good try." Everyone burst out once again as the room filled with loud talking and laughter, the whole conversation totally forgotten.

You slightly slumped over the counter, exhausted. It felt as if three years had been taken off your life.

---

Supper was a rousing success if you did say so yourself. About the time everyone was getting rouddy after Keonhee's daring comment, Hwanwoong came home and stumbled straight into whatever craziness was happening. Hwanwoong, being Hwanwoong, joined in without any hesitation but as soon as the food was ready, everyone immediately scarfed down every bite of food.  Everyone who lived at the Villa took turns with cooking and housework, and you learned very quickly that quantity was more important than presentation with a house full of very active university students. Especially with one of them being a sports scholarship student and one a dance major. Any dish that yielded large portions and was filling always went over well. It didn't hurt that you fancied yourself a pretty damn good cook too.

You lay in your small single bed, slightly regretting that second helping, mind attempting to process everything that happened today. In less than a day, you fell into the arms of a half naked man embarrassing yourself, had said man flirt(?) with you, acted totally weird once again, and the only saving grace of the night was you were able to escape upstairs while the others took care of clearing the kitchen. 

"uuuugh" you groaned into your pillow kicking your legs against the mattress. If this was only the first night with Mr. Confident around, how were you gonna last the next x-amount of time you would be staying here?

You turned your head to face the wall that connected both of your rooms.

"The walls between rooms are pretty thin, so be careful about being too loud or anything." You furrowed your brow, remembering his implicating words and suggestive wink. You knew he was just messing with you, but you couldn't help the tight feeling that appeared in your chest. It was annoying how much this was affecting you.

A Light knock on your room door brought you back to reality. "Come iiin," you called out, still frowning at the wall.

You figured it was just Hwanwoong or Xion coming to get you for your recently started nightly ritual of watching your favorite drama series. It was quickly started as soon as you moved in once you found out you were in love with the same series.

Unfortunately, it was not Hwanwoong or Xion, but rather a very surprising guest. The door quickly closed behind Ravn as he stood in the entryway of your small room. It took you a moment to realize who it was, but with a quiet gasp you quickly moved from the bed to stand face to face with him attempting to straighten your clothes.

"Uh, h-hi," You stammered. "Do you ne- what's-... Hi." The ability to speak suddenly seeming to have disappeared, you shyly looked up at the other silently standing in front of you.

Ravn, not quite understanding why he was there himself, one hand rubbed the back of his neck unsure, he took a step towards you. "Well, since classes start tomorrow," he started, taking another step forward causing you to step back unconsciously.

"I just wanted to say good night,"

Another step.

"And wish you good luck,"

Another step.

"In case we don't see a lot of each other."

You felt the wall press against your back, the young man but a foot apart from you. This wasn't the first time you had been this close, but it was the first time you were able to properly look at the others face. With what little courage he had left, YoungJo placed a firm hand against the wall next to you and leaned in bringing his face to eye level with his own. You swallowed hard as a lump formed in your throat, staring into the dark, round eyes a mere inches from you.

"So, good night," he whispered, his warm breath tickling your cheek.

"G-Good night..." Your voice trailed off, almost a whisper.

Lingering for a moment longer, the man pushed off the wall and quickly left your room, gently closing the door behind himself. Once you heard the door to his room click close you slid down the wall to sit on the floor finally able to breath. You clasped your hands over your hot face, the sound of your heart beating in your ears deafening. What had just happened? Why did he suddenly…

A million thoughts were flying through your mind, attempting to understand what could have possibly prompted this sort of action from him. What’s worse, was how much you wished he kissed you in that moment.

"Oh no," You muttered, grimacing. "I think I'm in love"

=============================================================

Wow, I’m kind of surprised I actually made it to chapter 2, and now I’ve left it on this huge weird cliff hanger so I now HAVE to write chapter 3 which I may or may not have already started lol. I’m glad people are enjoying it, this makes me want to go and finish my forgotten fics. Thanks for the support <3

[fabulouspotatosister]

harana

filipino (n.) - seranade

summary: hi! so i wrote this fic kind of for me, because i love being self indugent, but i also wrote it for the all the filipino thirteen stans out there. if you're out there, kumusta.  i hope you enjoy this really self-indulgent mess of a fic. this is kind of a prequel to another fic i'll be writing!

filipino words used:

tita - aunt anak - child 'te/ate - big sis/older woman inday - little sis/younger woman

Asking the Doctor for favors is complicated.

It's complicated because there are favors that aren't hard to grant and favors that are. The problem is figuring out which is which, because in the Doctor's mind, those vary wildly. How does going to see a life threatening event in alien history that could probably get everyone killed count as an "easy favor"? Why does going to a shop on the day it was selling something limited edition count as a "hard favor"? You're probably never going to know.

Not to mention the fact that looking the Doctor in the eyes has been really tricky for some reason. Just a little thing.

Which makes this favor a little tricky.

"Doctor," you begin, carefully, "can I ask you something?"

The Doctor's peering at a little thingy on the TARDIS console, her face scrunched up the way it does when she's really focused and her blonde hair messy and falling over her eyes. She doesn't look up at you, lost in her examination, but her voice is gentle - "Always."

Always. The word is a nice reminder.

The Doctor - an incredible, unfathomable, indescribable alien with a wealth of memories, responding to little human requests with "always". She was here to help, after all.

"I was thinking of going home," you say slowly, not taking your eyes off the Doctor. Not that that wasn't hard.

The Doctor looks up at you, her eyes crinkling - you don't bother to pinpoint their color anymore, as they could go from an already beautiful hazel to looking like the universe. "To Sheffield?"

"No, not there." You fight the urge to smile when the Doctor blinks in confusion. "I meant where my family is. The rest of my family, I mean. If that's alright with you."

You pause. The Doctor stands up and wipes her hands on her coat, her expression totally unreadable (as it usually is) - and then beams at you.

Okay. You were expecting rejection but you know what? This is good. Her smiling at you makes it ten times better. Scratch that, make it a hundred.

"It's definitely alright with me," she says through a grin, already starting to fiddle with the various switches and levers on the console. "The Philippines in 2019 - I haven't visted since the Spanish occupation! I always did love Rizal's work. Did you know he's an absolute riot at parties? Apple throwing and everything!"

"I hope you're not saying apple bobbing," Yaz's voice rings out, and you turn to find her walking into the room. "That brings up some bad memories."

"I love apple bobbing," the Doctor gasps, echoing herself. "And not all of it was bad! We did get to defeat an intergalactic criminal. Apple bobbing's not the worst of it."

Yaz just smiles, shaking her head. "Are we heading somewhere?"

"You fancy a trip to where I lived as a kid?" you ask, nudging her with your elbow. Yaz blinks at you, confused, before her smile breaks into a wide grin.

"You're joking."

"Nope! I thought it would be a nice change of pace from all the adrenaline-fueled trips we go on." You look at the Doctor and shrug. "Not that I don't enjoy those. No offense."

"None taken," the Doctor replies. She holds your gaze for a little while before breathing out and whipping around. Her hand rests on a lever - the "launch lever" as you liked to call it, because it's the lever she pulls before you take off.

You lock eyes with the Doctor, seeing her eyes shift colors in the dim light of the console room. Another mesmerizing thing about her to put on your list, unfortunately.

"Right. Let's get a shift on, then?"

You open the TARDIS doors to the smell of grass - and not cut grass, just plain old grass. Long stalks tickle your ankles as you step out, the air growing more humid than the TARDIS interior. The sun casts a warm glow on everything, bathing everything in gold.

"I can already say this is gonna be much better than our last trip." Behind you, Graham spoke. "Another one off the bucket list."

"How long is your bucket list?" You hear Ryan ask, only to get an annoyed "oi" from his grandfather.

"Yes! Perfect landing. Thank you." The Doctor walks out of the TARDIS. "That was a perfect landing, right? Tell me that was."

You don't speak for a little bit. It's weird, being home after such a long time. The warmth of the air is warmer than you remember, but you remember it, and it's enough to make you feel at ease.

"Yeah," you manage, still tranfixed. "Thank you."

The Doctor moves to stand next to you. Her very presence is both a reminder of how you've been gone and how you came back. And you're incredibly grateful. "You're welcome," is all she says, but there's so much behind her words.

(The Doctor enjoys seeing you enjoy home, more than she should anyway.)

"It's getting dark," Yaz says. "Why don't we get to your home?"

The walk doesn't take long. The Doctor was right about it being a perfect landing, as the TARDIS had parked just behind a hill that stood in front of a highway, which was the highway where your family's ancestral house stood. It stood tall, its walls old and wooden and laden with history.

It was good to be back.

You take that back very quickly though, when a family member catches your eye, turns to the inside of the house, yells your name, and suddenly you're caught up in a wave of relatives. Yaz sends a look your way that reads "family, am I right?" while you get bombarded with questions.

"Sit down, sit down," your aunt - a lovely lady you call Tita Grace gushes, leading the team to sit down on an old sofa set. Yaz seems right at home in a single armchair, completely understanding the enthusiastic family reunion, while the rest of the team sit down a bit awkwardly on a longer chair. You decide to keep standing.

Tita Grace sighs at you, but it's more of a "oh my goodness anak look how much you've grown" sigh rather than a disappointed sigh. "Look at you! Back home just in time to see everyone together. We haven't seen you in months, and you didn't even tell us you were coming home!"

"Yeah, well," you tell her, glancing at the Doctor, who gives you a supportive nod, "I've been busy."

Very busy travelling the universe, getting our lives threatened, nearly dying, and enjoying this beyond normal comprehension with four of my favorite people, is what you don't say, although you know that doesn't exactly make for great reunion talk.

"Busy, huh," Tita Grace teases, the corners of her very pink lips lifting. She looks at the rest of team TARDIS, and they all smile politely at her in unison. "Who are these friends you've brought along?"

Graham begins, introducing himself and Ryan as his grandson; Yaz goes next, saying her name and dropping the fact that she's a police officer; the Doctor, on the other hand, stands and takes Tita Grace's hand.

"I'm the Doctor," she says, grinning politely. "Can I just say, your niece is a wonderful person. She's been a great companion on our travels so far."

Ding! Plus one point for being called a "wonderful person" by the Doctor. Of course, this Doctor wasn't shy to give out encouragement and praise when necessary. That didn't mean it didn't feel great when she gave it out. Plus one point, as well, for acting a little bit like a lover asking for familial permission, which was… nice, for some reason. More on that later?

Also, our travels, not her travels. That was nice.

"That's great. And a Doctor of what, may I ask?"

"Oh, of a lot of things," the Doctor replies, "Legos, for one."

You laugh, not noticing the glance she throws your way.

Tita Grace turns back to you. You didn't know a person could smile so wide. "Making so many friends already. Actually - " she says to the rest of your group - "I'd like a word with my niece, privately - would it be okay for you to wait a little bit out here?"

It's pretty much a unanimous "sure", and you look helplessly at your friends before your aunt pulls you into the kitchen.

"You didn't have to drag me away, Tita Grace," you complain, rubbing your arm. "They pretty much know everything about me anyway."

"But this is a private matter, anak." Tita Grace holds your shoulders.

Oh my God. This was going to be a very, very long night.

"It's about your love life," Tita Grace continues (oh my God it was definitely going to be the longest night of your life, why do all families ask questions like this). "Are you seeing anyone?"

Your "no" is a well-worn answer that Tita Grace isn't satisfied with. She prods a little more.

"Any of those three? Graham?"

"He was married!"

"What about the boy?"

"Ryan? Oh, uh, he wouldn't be interested in me."

"Yaz? What about Yaz? She's pretty."

"She is, but no."

"Okay, what about the blonde one? That Doctor lady?"

The question knocks the air out of your lungs for some reason. It's a little hard breathing after that. "I'm sorry - excuse me?"

"What? Are you?"

"I'm not." The answer comes out a little too forcefully. Why are you so defensive? And why do you sound like a schoolgirl with a crush - "I'm not seeing anyone."

Or do you wish you were? says the nagging voice in the back of your brain you begrudgingly refer to as your conscience. Why do you keep thinking about the Doctor anyway? And why did you even bring her with you to meet you family, no less?

Shut up, you tell your conscience.

It doesn't, to no one's surprise, and snarks back with what a telenovela cliche before you squash it to finally get some words out. "And what about it?"

"Sorry, but I'm looking for the - "

Graham pokes his head through the thin cloth that divides the living room and the kitchen, and you feel like this is it. You're ready to die now. You give him a suffering look, and he cringes.

"Bad time? I was just looking for the toilet," Graham stammers, gesturing back to where he just came from. Friendly conversation filters through, and you catch the Doctor talking with some of your relatives.

"No, not at all." You purse your lips, trying to ignore the fact that your stomach has probably dropped to the floor more times than you can count, your heart doesn't feel like it's in your chest, and that your face feels like a sun going supernova. "I just got held up. You know, the usual family talk."

Tita Grace gives the most sickening smile you've ever seen and looks at Graham. "Would you mind helping us with something?"

You hope to God that it's over.

It's not over.

When night falls, Tita Grace drags you outside the house, and asks you to sit down next to a balete tree that you're pretty sure is actually haunted and then runs away at the speed of light.

Okay. You're just outside, there's nothing to worry about, surely your family would never do anything do embarrass you in front of the person that you're most likely attracted to, right? Right?

You look up to find that you're standing in front of a balcony, Romeo - style.

Not right, then.

The Doctor's voice rings faintly from inside the house. "Where are you lot taking me?"

"It's a surprise, Doctor," says Ryan. He sounds like he's having the time of his life.

A few young men walk up to you - you recognize them as your uncle's friends - hauling some things behind them. You squint, and then find that they're holding a few guitars, a beatbox, and a small amplifier.

You sigh. "What has Tita Grace made you do?"

"'Te - " One of the young men raises his hands in mock surrender, while the rest of his friends set up the impromptu band. "Don't be embarrassed. If you like her, you can't go wrong with a good old serenade."

"I don't - " You pinch the bridge of your nose, ignoring the weird feelig that seems to settle right in the center of your chest. "There's no changing your minds, is there?"

"Living abroad's made you grumpy, inday," another young man says. He slings the guitar strap over his shoulder and strums a few notes. "Lighten up, have a little fun with this."

Impromptu band assembled, the group of young men all look at you expectantly.

"What - you want me to sing?"

"That's the point, isn't it?" Another well-played strum to a song you faintly recognize. "Look, she's coming."

You look up to see the Doctor being practically pushed onto the balcony, the rest of Team TARDIS trailing along. You give them another suffering look before deciding to focus on the Doctor, who smiles and gives you a wave.

"Hello! What are you doing down there?" she brightly asks, and you give her a pained grin. It comes out more like a grimace. Her gaze flicks upwards, to the massive tree that you're sitting under, and her entire face lights up. "Oh, look at that tree! Well, it's not really a tree, more of a vine really, called a strangler fig."

The wonder in her voice - the Doctor was like a prism. She took ordinary things, things that you saw everyday, and just through her sheer enthusiasm, made them extraordinarily beautiful.

"You guys couldn't stay here without experiencing a traditional Filipino tradition," a young man begins. He says it with a flourish. "Elsewhere, you'd call it a serenade. Here, we call it the harana."

The Doctor looks at you, and the rest of the world seems to disappear.

And so you sing.

Hindi masabi ang nararamdaman Di makalapit, sadyang nangingining na lang Mga kamay na sabik sa piling mo Ang iyong matang walang mintis sa pagtigil ng aking mundo

"I can't say how I feel - I can't get close, I just tremble. My hands long to touch you; your gaze that doesn't hesitate to stop the world."

(Yaz manages to tear her eyes away from you and to the Doctor - maybe, Yaz thinks, this is the first time in so long that she's been truly speechless. The Doctor was normally a bouncing ball of energy, but this - this was different, this was new. The Doctor wasn't looking at anything else. The Doctor was looking at you.)

Ako'y alipin ng pag-ibig mo Handang ibigin ang isang tulad mo Hangga't ang puso mo'y sa akin lang Hindi ka na malilinlang

"I'm a slave to your love, ready to love someone like you. Until your heart is mine, you won't be decieved - "

(The Doctor - to put it simply? She's floored. She's been sung to before, she's sure she's got songs about her, but this isn't the same.)

Ikaw ang ilaw sa dilim At ang liwanag ng mga bituin

"You are the light in the dark and the brightness of the stars."

You look at the Doctor - she looks so intruigued, so endeared, something dancing behind those bright eyes of hers, the barest hint of a smile on her lips - and you're sure she feels loved.

The song is over before you know it, and the rest of the world comes back into focus. You hear the band make teasing noises and the everyone else cheering, but it all sounds like you're underwater.

You feel… satisfied, somehow, in a way that only you can understand.

The Doctor's still smiling, but she's smiling at you, and that makes all the difference.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all, you think to yourself, still basking in the light of the Doctor's smile.

[qualquercoisa945]

Questions Every Fic Writer Secretly Wants to be Asked - the number 1 (have an amazing day!!)

first of all, thank you anon, and you too!!

second of all, how fucking dare you make me choose shlkjdfhlkjhdsflkjgfd

but uh, in all seriousness (and this is gonna be long so be glad i’m putting a read more here guys like it’s for your own good jskhgkjldhgjfdhkj)

i love all of them honestly!!! 

like, thank you for taking a chance on me was my first ever au that ever grew into something more than just a vague idea (like god i have a Lot of stuff about that au, @the-quiet-winds can absolutely confirm this) and obviously i’m incredibly proud of that, and that story was the first thing i ever wrote for it so i’m lowkey kinda biased

and then when she sees me was pure self indulgence but also one of the very first fics i wrote for the fandom, and even though it’s pretty crappy in hind sight, i’m still hella proud of it because it was one of the very first fics i ever wrote, and also the reason i started talking to julie and @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts if i remember correctly, so it just means a lot to me honestly!! plus i think it was one of the first fics ever posted to focus on one of the ladies in waiting, so although i don’t write about them much anymore, there’s that too!!

faith ain’t no privilege is the longest fic i’ve ever written, and also one that, despite being relatively old by now, i’m still incredibly proud of it!! not to mention, it’s part of @cool-kept​‘s spy au, and she’s one of my closest friends, so i’m also incredibly happy that i got to take a part in it

part 1 of love doesn’t discriminate was one of my favorite fics to write- the transitions were a bit of a struggle at first but i loved it either way, i got to explore a softer side of both cathy and anne, as well as address a topic that i was certainly going to explore eventually- what t***** s****** did to lizzie. also, it was an opportunity to explore how the kids come back into the queens’ lives, and i’m extremely excited for the next few parts

as you watch her go was one of the very first fics i ever wrote, inspired by the first post i ever saw from one of the queens’ social media- aimie’s post about the anniversary of katherine howard’s beheading. a few weeks later, i was talking to a friend about how kitty’s favorite holiday would be valentine’s day, and then i remembered that the anniversary of her beheading would be right the day before. with all that said, i was also interested in exploring kitty and anne’s dynamic, and since at the time most of the content involving anne made her incredibly chaotic, i wanted to explore a softer side to her

with when you’re on your own, i wanted to create a contradiction of sorts, between the inspiration for the title and the contents of the story, since the song when the sun goes down is an incredibly soft love duet, while the story is focused about the thoughts that plague the queens’ minds when they’re alone, despite how hard they try to avoid them. it’s pure character study, and it was incredibly interesting to write. i loved parr’s bit especially, because it allowed me to try and write something from her perspective and with the kind of language she’d use, which was a bit of a struggle, admittedly, but also so much fun

i am high and drunk on ego was another fic focused on one of the queens’ beheading’s anniversaries, this time anne’s, and also this time with me having a much better grasp on the queens’ characterization. writing anne and aragon’s conversation was honestly my favorite part of this entire fic, and even though it was written in a bit of a rush, i fucking loved it man

we see things that nobody else sees was another fic i wrote in a bit of a rush, but it’s one of my favorite pieces either way. it’s much more character study like than my usual fics, but i’d noticed that most people were mainly posting soft headcanons for the kids when they did write for them, so i figured i should address at least some of the trauma they have

pride is not the word i’m looking for is actually part of a (potential) series with fics about the kids, all titled with dear theodosia lyrics because i’m a basic bitch. it’d be based on what the kids are most scared about regarding their moms (so in lizzie’s case, disappointing her and losing her again, though that last one is a bit of a constant throughout all of the kids). i loved writing a more softer side of lizzie with that fic, as well as a gentler side with anne that wasn’t complete shit in terms of characterization (looking at you, as you watch her go)

but honestly? as basic as it sounds, i’m gonna have to say that But It Sure Felt Nice When He Was Holding My Hand, affectionately named the Kitty Snaps Fic. it’s my first ever multi chapter that I’m actually finishing, and i’m so genuinely proud of every single part, and for once i can genuinely say that i mean it when i say that.

burned out was my first ever fic for the six fandom- just a tiny little thing i threw together because @vioislit​ said burned out by dodie was a katherine howard song and i figured i should write something inspired by it. it also served as bit of me ranting through her, though since at the time i hadn’t looked into what aragon had gone through, so i had to avoid the topic. i might end up rewriting this story eventually honestly, because as much as i love it, there are some things that need some improvement

being awfully loud for an introvert is the second installment, titled after monster by, once again, dodie. i didn’t expect burned out to be anything but a one off, angsty one shot, but the more i thought about it, the more i realized that if i did that, it’d be throwing away the perfect opportunity to explore kitty’s dynamics with the other queens. that aside, another title i’d considered for this “we’re both guilty of black and white thinking,” from the same song, highlighting how kitty had completely snapped and wouldn’t hear anything. i also wanted to explore the trauma anne had experienced, since at the time people tended to focus more on the more chaotic, fun loving side of her. this was also another chance to explore the kitty and anne dynamic, this time with kitty being the one of comfort anne

now by shiver, but shiver with a friend, i was noticing a pattern with the titles, and decided to just embrace it and make that the theme- all stories from this fic were going to be titled after dodie songs. and this one in particular was named after party tattoos- me and becca were talking about how well it fit kitty and anna’s friendship, and it was just too perfect.as for the story’s contents themselves, i knew from the start i wanted there to be a flashback. me and jess had talked multiple times about their historical friendship by then, and that coupled with her story, dancing’s not a crime unless you do it without me, made it easy to choose what kind of scene i wanted to write. i also fucking loved getting to write something a bit more cleves centric, and exploring her trauma beyond any self-esteem issues she has was also really fun! finally, this is when you start noticing the build up to the climax of the latest installment. honestly, this one is my favorite out of this fic, if i’m being completely honest. it’s the one story that i don’t think is too short or has bits that fall awkward or just didn’t age as well as i would like it to have, due to me growing as a writer, which isn’t a bad thing by any means, but it’s nice to have a part that stood the test of time honestly

i’m so used to feeling wrong was both one of the easiest and one of the hardest songs to title. i ended up going with rainbow, but another option had been in the middle. ultimately, i went with rainbow because i felt it was better for how both kitty and aragon feel- constantly criticized by everyone around them, and being crushed by a constant sense of being replaceable..as for actually writing it, once again it was both one of the easiest and one of the hardest to write. i don’t have as much experience writing aragon as i would like, but i’d brainstormed a bit about how i thought their dynamic would be like and what similarities and differences they have. the idea of aragon accidentally calling kitty mary comes from jess, and it led way into a bit of a character study bit that i’m still pretty proud of honestly

and last but definitely not least, these new walls are pretty hard to crack. the title inspiration for this one was arms unfolding, and in all honesty, this one was easily the hardest to title. almost every line in this song would be a great title, but ultimately i settled on the one i did, and i’m pretty happy about it honestly! it’s about how being reincarnated likely made the queens put up more walls instead of less, and it’s just,,,,,,, idk man i just love this title a lotas for the story, this was one that i have had planned since, i wanna say back when i first wrote the anne chapter. it wasn’t part of this story at first, but then i started building the story up more, and it just fit too well. i’d been wanting to tackled parr and kitty’s relationship for a while now, and while i still have some stuff in the works, i’m pretty proud of how this one turned out!! i’m looking forward to sharing the last part of this story with you all 💖💙💖💙