bacchuschucklefuck · 5 months ago
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small lad big city doodles
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heroesspirit · 11 months ago
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FANFICTION MASTER POST
You can find me on AO3 at meatjuice. My fics are all available under the readmore cut.
LONG FICS
Brothers in Blood and Spirit: (5/?) POVs: Eras, Legend, Wind.
Summary: Every hero has their weakness. For the captain, it’s his brothers. He will do anything to protect his brothers of the present, just as he did with his brother in the past. (Note: a good look into Eras’ past, this is an au where everything is the same except he has a little brother.)
The Nebula Brigade: (9/?) POVs: Twilight, Eras, Time.
Summary: The Hyrule Empire has reigned supreme for decades, gradually taking over countless planets in the solar system. The only thing standing between the Empire and complete control over the galaxy is a band of rebels. One exiled rebel encounters an Empire soldier and decides to spare his life, and he soon discovers the soldier may play a key role in bringing the Empire down. Despite all odds against them, they work together to bring peace back to the galaxy. (Note: Space au!)
Raise the Red Sails: (1/?) POVs: Spirit, Ravio, Twilight, Eras.
Summary: Hyrule has sent the Royal Navy after mysterious artifacts to uncover the location of the Triforce. Only with this power will they be able to put an end to the evils plaguing their land. The only thing that stands in their way is a band of pirates who seek the same goal of obtaining the Triforce for themselves. Only one group will emerge victorious. Or so they assume. (Note: I watched Our Flag Means Death and naturally had to make a pirate au.)
ONE SHOTS
Snow Day Off: (1143 words) POV: Four
Summary: Link experiences his first time making a snowman. (Note: for the HS Server’s December 2023 prompt ‘Snowed in’.
Fall From Grace: (1535 words) POV: Eras
Summary: Long hair is the sign of a fierce and skilled knight. To have one’s hair cut off by an opponent is the ultimate sign of defeat. To have one cut off their own hair is the ultimate sign of shame. (Notes: canon scene five years prior to the start of HS)
Lost Loftwing: (2207 words) POV: Sky
“Stand down,” Sky ordered with what little authority he could muster. He wasn’t used to that tone, he wasn’t fond of ordering people around. He was even less fond of people trying to kidnap and hurt his loftwing.
ONE SHOTS, BUT YEEHAW
It’s a Date: (919 words) POV: Eras
Summary: A sparring session turns into an admitting your feelings session.
A Horse by Any Other Name: (1531 words) POV: Eras
Summary: Sometimes the bond between a man and his borrowed horse can be so personal.
Dreams and Fireside Chats: (1788 words) POV: Eras
Summary: Link has an unpleasant dream and finds comfort in the kindness of those he's close to.
Bathhouse Boy Best Friends: (1629 words) POV: Twilight
Summary: Two bros, chillin' in a hot tub, five feet apart cause they might be gay??
The Wingman: (2555 words) POV: Sky
Summary: Sky copes with being touch starved naturally by trying to play matchmaker for his companions.
MISCELLANEOUS
At Ease, Captain: (7058 words) POV: HW Link
Summary: Link projects his problems onto his companions, specifically their Champion, but he's definitely okay and fine and not sleep-deprived. (Note: I wrote this at the same time I was creating HS! It’s also around the time when I first read LU. So this was written with neither in mind, but you can really see the prototypes of my versions peeking through in this one.)
The Captain’s Log: (2161 words) POV: LU Warriors
Summary: He dipped his pen in the inkwell and brought it to the paper, he frowned when he pressed too hard and made a large spot on the page. Link would never consider himself an artist, but he prided himself in his penmanship. During the war there was no time for fancy scripts and long words, his fellow captains were lucky if they got more than three lines of cucco scratch. Calligraphy was something he picked up later, he loved the way words flowed on paper. But now, his hands betrayed him. OR: One of those Warriors and Legend journal fics you always hear about but not really.
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wonustars · 1 month ago
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In Front of Me (Teaser)
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⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriend to lovers, angst, smut (18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: TBA (this teaser: 679) ⊹ release date: TBA
⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time. ⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, bestfriends to lovers (?), unrequted love, emotionaly stunted charcters, wonwoo has a bit of an ego, toxic!wonwoo&reader. (more tags and smut tag added to full fic when posted.) ⊹ note: im really excited to share this with you all. its not by any means done but heres a teaser for now since ive been away for so long ♡ also the teaser is not edited so pls just ignore if theres typos hehe. lov u all pls come into my ask box cuz i refuse to shut up abt this story :p.
⊹ masterlist, taglist, fic playlist.
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Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.
Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the break up, to lose feelings first, every decision was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 
Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up to your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 
Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his bestfriend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 
{໒꒰ྀི���˕ -。꒱ྀི১  ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆˙}
Less than fourty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence is perfectly normal, then maybe, you would eventually end up answering him. 
12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?
Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 
1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁
Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 
2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 
Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.
4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 
The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he had witnessed. 
4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 
Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin of all people solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 
Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he can keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.
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⊹ a/n: if u want to be apart of the taglist please fill out the form, comment or send an ask! please note that i'll only add those who have an age indicator somewhere in their blog! thank you ♡
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httpsserene · 1 year ago
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im back to request another x male reader hehe🤭a plot inspired by moth to a flame by the weeknd, what do ya think?
𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐰/𝐥𝐧𝟒 & 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏
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📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: lando has many regrets, the most painful one being the fact that he encouraged you to date oscar.  📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: angst. beta read. emotional infidelity. implied future possible cheating? established relationship w/oscar piastri. unhappy ending. but also, open ending (sick n twisted). 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lando norris & male!reader | oscar piastri x male!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: moth to a flame • the weeknd & swedish house mafia
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲:  i HATE writing cheat*ng fics, like the idea genuinely makes me sick to my stomach–i never understood why someone would cheat when they can literally just break up 😐, it pisses me off. it’s purely greedy behavior, manipulative, and disrespectful as fuck. but honestly an emotional affair would borderline break my heart more than a physical affair—like you love somebody else more than me??? and you’re not even having sex with them, you just have more emotional intimacy with them??? i fr would shatter into pieces—ANYWAYS: wikipedia was my source for the timeline, so if doesn’t canonically make sense…it is what it is :p sorry for hurting lando, i didn’t want to 😔i think this is my first true angst fic ever? enjoy, loves !!!
thank you to @biancathecool for beta-reading this fic for me !!
want to be added to my taglist? want to submit a request? send me an ask!
check out my table of contents for all of my works!
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lando wishes he never invited you to the silverstone grand prix in 2022. he knows you would’ve been insulted if he didn’t; you’ve been his best friend since the two of you were in diapers, and you’ve avidly supported him during each race. so, bringing you along to his home race was a given. however, after his meeting with the team post fp1, he caught you sneaking back into his driver’s room with heart-eyes, flushed cheeks, and a new number saved in your phone. it was the first time you met oscar piastri, who at the time was a reserve driver for alpine. when lando teased you for details, you downplayed the interaction, but you also asked him if it was fine if you got to know the australian rookie. he snorted, you didn’t need his permission to associate with other drivers. 
four months later at the the circuit of the americas, you told lando you were dating oscar. 
he’s thankful that you waited until after the race to tell him because he would’ve shunted into the barriers. lando’s heard of how people struggle to get over someone they’ve dated and fell in love with—but how does he recover from getting over someone he’s never allowed himself to fall in love with? 
lando feigned happiness for you, his shocked laughter passing for joy. he ushered you to sneak into oscar’s room to “make the most of the time you had together,” while he went out to celebrate max’s pole and his p6. the brit did congratulate his friend, and then for a man who claims to not like alcohol, he proceeded to get wasted. he was a mess, enough that he had to be escorted back to the hotel by daniel and carlos—as if being babysat by one of them wasn’t embarrassing enough. he broke down, sobbing into the spaniard’s shoulder about his missed chance, and was eventually soothed to sleep by daniel awkwardly rubbing his back. 
he knew it would be difficult to pretend that he wasn’t distraught at your new relationship. he’s had you to himself his whole life; and now he has to see you love another man. when oscar joined mclaren for the 2023 season, sure, he first-handedly witnessed how well the rookie driver treated you. good morning and good night texts aren’t forgotten even with ever changing time zones,  you’re spoiled with gifts, lando catches how oscar’s phone has three alternate home screens with photos of you, oscar’s car passenger seat is adjusted to you, he has a list of things you like written in his notes app, he has your coffee order memorized. you’re wearing oscar’s mclaren merch instead of his, you stay on the australian’s side of the garage and calm his nerves instead, you game with lando half as much as you usually did and go out on dates with oscar instead, the collection of stuff that you’ve forgotten in lando’s flat decreases and he spots your stuff in oscar’s flat when he came over to hangout with you two one day. you’re rarely in your own flat, lando has to call or text you to find out what you’re doing instead of just randomly appearing like he usually does, you practically live with oscar when he’s back home, and it becomes very clear to lando that he’s your best friend, not your boyfriend. something else becomes clear to lando. while you may be infatuated with oscar, you’re still his other half. 
your phone battery may die during several hour long facetime calls with oscar, but does he know that when you sleep in your own bed, that you call lando and plug in your phone so it charges while you fall asleep to the sound of his voice?
the passcode to your phone may be oscar’s birthday, but does he know that you have lando listed as your emergency contact?
you never order any seafood dishes on dates with oscar, but does he know that’s muscle memory from years of knowing lando gags at the smell?
oscar kisses the scar you have on the knuckles of your right hand, but does he know that’s from when you broke your hand punching a group of older boys who were bullying lando after he beat them in a kart race?
does he know that lando was your first kiss?
it all comes to a head in qatar. oscar won the sprint race, lando hasn’t won anything in the five years he’s been in formula one. you were late to the party the team is throwing for oscar because you were cradling lando as he sobs into your chest. max won the grand prix, and lando was the first loser to cross the finish line; as usual.
at two in the morning, there was a knock on his hotel room door. lando knew it was you from the cadence. you were dressed for bed, clothes wrinkled, voice deep and throaty from sleep, hair mussed to one side, and pillow lines were indented on your cheek. you asked him if he wanted to talk, that you noticed he was off this whole weekend. all lando could think about is the fact that you woke up in the middle of the night, slipped out of the bed you shared with oscar, and continued to wander to lando’s room half-asleep because you were worried about him. waiting until the morning didn’t cross your mind. lando’s heart ached—he shouldn’t be in love with you, he can’t be.
he let you in anyways, how was he supposed to turn you away? you were blinking at him with sleepy eyes, swollen cheeks, pouted lips—he’s only a man. you made yourself comfortable on top of his bed, and lando stared before he shrugged and laid down next to you; this is fine, this is a completely normal thing the two of you have been doing for years. just not while you have a boyfriend, or while he’s suddenly been accepting his feelings for you.
you didn’t say a word, and kept your eyes shut (you’re used to lando, he’ll speak when he wants to or he’ll be fine with your presence next to him while he sorts out his thoughts). you almost fell asleep before lando’s torrent of words startled you into awareness. 
he was tripping over his words, his brain moving faster than his mouth. self-deprecating and over critical views fell from his lips—the way they sounded clued you into everything you already knew. the brunet had been thinking this for a while, the phrases sounding too practiced to be sudden realizations. the remaining whisper of sleep was vaporized from your mind at lando’s harsh evaluation of the weekend and his entire career. 
you rushed to sit upright and bodily forced lando to turn and face you; your hands warmly blanketed the sides of his face and applied enough pressure for his words to become unintelligible before they tapered off. he knew that you were disagreeing with his monologue from the way your brows were furrowed and how your eyes were alight with anger. the air between you vibrated with the force of your speech, and lando knew you were probably ranting about the only reason he isn’t world champion is because of his car, not his self-perceived lack of skill. 
the sharp edge of your jawline was far more interesting to brit—the length of your fanned out eyelashes, the shape of your lips shifting as they formed syllables, the strength coiled beneath the skin of your hands, the broad spread of your chest—lando’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips distractedly and the sound of your voice returned to his ears.
“…you better understand me, okay?” is all that he caught. the senior mclaren driver (how weird), hummed half-heartedly in agreement. his stare tunneled to the part of your lips, and he knew his appreciation was discovered by the audible catch of breath in your throat.
it was like all the air was sucked out of the room, a perfect vacuum created. lando hesitated, before he redirected his gaze to meet yours, and he was sure what he saw was more catastrophic than anything he could’ve imagined. your eyes were locked on his lips, as well. the brunet can’t tell how much time passed by, the two of you were busy taking turns admiring the idea of a kiss. both of you continued to stare; eyes flickering across faces, tongues wetting lips, breath quickening in anticipation, and bodies leaning closer to each other steadily. when lando felt your exhales ghost faintly over his mouth, his eyes fluttered shut and he shivered slightly, a sense of satisfaction flooded his brain; you were going to kiss him—and then he heard you gasp.
lando’s eyes flew open to see you scrambling off the bed, a horrified look painted on your face as you stared at him. 
“this never happened,” you started, running an anxious, guilt-ridden hand through your hair, “and it will never happen again.”
it felt like his world was crashing down, he was frozen in shock. you moved to rush by him and leave the room, and he finally defrosted, and caught you by the arm.
you turned around furiously, tears gathering in your eyes as you forced your arm out of his grasp, a scathing, “let go of me,” leaving your mouth.
lando’s hands were shaking, mouth wobbling as he held back his own tears, and he rambled, “you're just going to forget what happened? were never going to talk about that? you’re not going to tell oscar?”
“NO!” you screamed, “no—i won’t tell oscar. and, i don’t have to tell him anything, because nothing actually happened. it was a mistake.”
he heard his heart shatter, and he couldn’t hold his tears back anymore. lando angrily brushed them away as they fell, knowing his face was embarrassingly red with anguish, and his insides burned at the look of pity and longing mixed in your gaze. 
“so, you’re just going to pretend that you don’t have feelings for me,” lando questioned disbelievingly, “like i don’t know you better than oscar ever could? you’re just going to forget this ever happened and run back to bed with oscar, and continue to have him believe that everything is fine?”
the air was still for a minute, your shared breaths the only audible noise in the room. 
“you’re only going to hurt him more if you act like everything’s okay,” lando whispered, “he doesn’t deserve that.”
your first tear of the night fell, your arms wrapped around your torso to hold yourself, trying to find any glimpse of protection and comfort you could. “oscar’s good to me…he treats me well, perfectly, even. he’s sweet, i really like him a lot.”
“you ‘like him a lot,’” lando repeated, staring into your eyes desperately, “but, you love me.”
the flame of rage and distress reignited in your eyes, “lando—i loved you for years. and, not once have i ever tried to make a move on you because i didn’t want to ruin our friendship. i didn’t even know you liked men until almost three fucking years ago! and, you still never gave me any sign that you were romantically interested in me. you had plenty of time and chances to date me, and you only realized that you wanted me when you lost me to oscar.”
“that’s not true,” lando murmured, “i’ve always been in love with you.”
lando watched the fury falter in your expression, and saw the conflict dance in your gaze. your stare softened, and you stepped forward to hold his face in your hands. 
“i can’t do this. not to oscar—he doesn’t deserve it. i can’t break up with him.” you said in a muted tone, “we shouldn’t be together.”
the brunet whimpered, eyes watering again. his large hands came up to hold yours against his cheeks, nuzzling into the warmth of your palm. you sighed brokenly, and leaned forward to press kiss on lando’s forehead. a muffled sob vibrated through lando’s chest, and you blinked rapidly to avoid crying again. your thumb swiped under lando’s eyes, brushing away his fresh tears, and you gently swept another kiss along his cheekbone.
lando cries messily when you pull away, and can only hold himself as you leave his room without glancing backwards at him. when the door shuts, lando falls to the ground, leaning back against the bed as he sobs into his hands. he understands what you said, but he can’t help but yearn for more. his chest aches painfully, and he doesn’t know if he can give you the time you need—the distance you need.  lando will pretend to be okay, he’s good at that. he’ll let you be for as long as he can manage, but he’s reassured at the knowledge that you’re in love with him. 
eventually, the two of you won’t be able to fight the pull of what you really need—you’re moths to each other's flames.
taglist: @saintslewis@cherry2stemss@lorarriri@inloveallthetime@mindless-rock@biancathecooll@barnestaticc @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz
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© httpsserene2023
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duhnova · 1 year ago
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The Kings Gambit: Bound (Teaser)
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pairing: lawyer!yoon jeonghan x fem!reader
SERIES genre: smut (eventually), slow burn (incredibly slow im sorry), angst, fluff (more is on the taglist form/ will be added as i continue to write)
TEASER genre: fluff, mentions of food, mentions of a gun, humor?
word count: 911 (for the teaser), fic is looking at 40k+
synopsis: Money never came easy for Jeonghan, so when he finally built an empire that’s just his own he’ll do anything to protect it. But when you come into his life it’s like it’s all flipped upside down as he learns you’re more precious to him than the eleven digit number in his bank account.
a/n: there is no posting/completion date for this fic yet so please be patient with me - this is a labor of love (sweat, and tears LITERALLY) and i am sitting at about 21k+ words with A LOT more to go. i will be posting the fic to my ao3 as well, there it'll be one big thing versus here i will probably have to break it up into parts to keep tumblr from imploding on itself. (so if you want the full fic all at once i'd follow my ao3 but you're in no way obligated too! the full fic will be published here regardless <3). i might post more teasers and behind the scenes in the future as i write more just because of how long this fic is going to be.
collab masterlist || taglist || bound masterlist (coming soon...)
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“Now I see why Joshua likes you so much.” He stepped closer, only stopping when he notices the way she shifts, like she was uncertain of him. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N,” She mumbles wearily, not to sure of Jeonghans intentions. “I’m Mr. Hongs assistant.” 
“Y/N?” He tests her name out, loving the way it tastes on his tongue and loving even more the way her jaw clenches a little. “It’s nice to meet you.” He sticks his hand out for her to shake, the coat that was resting loosely on his shoulders shifted. 
“Nice.. To meet you too.” Y/N mumbles, shaking his hand almost hesitantly. 
“So, how’d you come about working for grumpy ol Shua?” Jeonghan lets his arm fall to hide within his jacket again. 
“He uh..” She clears her throat, allowing her voice to come out stronger. “He pulled my file from the old company I was working for and decided he wanted me to work for him instead and now here I am.” She shrugs like its the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Sounds like something he would do, he hates having others come to him. He’d rather hunt on his own so he knows what he’s getting himself into y’know?” He looks down at his watch to check the time, tsking quietly. 
“Yeah I know.” She looks up at the clock to mimic Jeonghan's action. 
“Why’d you take up his offer?” His eyes went straight back to staring into hers. “I assume its cause he offered you more?”
“Partially.” Is all she gives him to work with.
“Oh?” His interest was peaked double now at her vagueness.
“I just wanted out of there, thats all. Why do you care anyways?” She gives him a suspicious look. 
“I don’t care actually, I’m just trying to kill time.” He shrugs his shoulders before checking his watch again. “Which leads me to ask, do you have any plans for lunch?” He looks at her through his eyelashes before looking at his wrist again, watching the second hand tick. 
“Excuse me?” She frowns confused.
“Well I have a reservation for two at this italian restaurant downtown and since Shua flaked on me to meet one of his girls I assume, I’m down a lunch partner now.” He tries to gauge her feelings but her face is still set in a confused downturn. 
“What, is day drinking alone at noon too taboo for you Yoon?” The way she crosses her arms and smirks playfully tells him she left all the formalities out on purpose just to tick him off. 
“It’s Mr. Yoon.. Or sir if that floats your boat more, sweetheart.” He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, enjoying the way she swallows before scoffing. 
“And its Y/N sir.” Jeonghan smirks, his teeth on display before hes tilting his head a little.
“Do you want to join me for lunch Y/N?”
“Something is telling me to say no but I’m starving and in desperate need of a margarita.” She lets her shoulders slump a little. “So yes, I’ll join you for lunch Mr. Yoon.”
“Whose the day drinker now huh?” He laughs a little when she shoots him a glare. 
“Do you think I’d get fired if I cut your tongue out?” Y/N finally moves away from the desk so she could walk around Jeonghan to grab her coat that she hung up when she first entered the office earlier. 
“I’m sure Shua would give you a raise, he wouldn’t have to listen to me anymore.” Jeonghan snorts as he moves to open the door for her, letting her exit the room first. 
“Thank you.” She gives him a small nod as she walks out and down the hall, barely giving him time to close the door behind himself and catch up before shes calling for an elevator. 
“So how old are you?” He tried to make small talk now that an awkward silence fell over them. 
“I’m twenty-four..” She clutches her jacket a little. “You?” 
“Twenty-eight..” He bites his tongue so he doesn’t let it slip that he still had a birthday to get to this year. The elevator dings, signaling its arrival and it causes another awkward silence to fall over the two of them as they have a straight ride down to the lobby. 
“Hey Y/N!” Hoshis voice calls from the front desk where he was sitting in for one of the receptionists while they took their break. “I tried to tell Mr. Yoon that Mr. Hong wasn’t here but he wouldn’t listen.. Sorry bout that.” He laughs sheepishly causing her to give him a gentle smile. 
“It’s quite alright, me and him are actually going to get some lunch so I’ll see you in an hour or so?” She gives him a small wave as Jeonghan ghosts his hand on her lower back, guiding her in the correct direction while shes distracted. 
“So you can smile.” He hisses a little when she jabs her elbow into his side, hissing herself when she hit something hard.
“What was that?” She huffs, rubbing her elbow a little. 
“Thats where I keep my gun.” He mumbles, side eyeing the people around them as he leads her towards the side street he had to park on since he left his pass to get into their private garage on his desk. 
“You have a gun?” Y/N gives him an incredulous look.
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reblogs + feedback is greatly appreciated!
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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 years ago
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North To The Future [Chapter 1: Building A Mystery]
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The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life...but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.
A/N: This is a work of au fiction utilizing characters from HBO’s House Of The Dragon series. It will have humor, drama, angst, danger, bears, bars, boats, boy bands, blizzards, dogs, 90s nostalgia, and lots more!
Chapter warnings: Language, lowkey sexual tension, alcoholism (obvi), poor life choices, minor injury to an animal but he’s totally fine.
Word count: 3.4k.
Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.
*** I’m going to tag like a bazillion people since this is the first chapter of a new fic, but I WILL NOT TAG YOU AGAIN unless you ask me to. I hope you are all doing well, wherever you are in the world. 🥰�� ***
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“He’s going to hit the mailbox,” Jennifer says. She’s peering out of the window with her hands cupped around her eyes like goggles. “He’s going to hit it…he’s going to hit it…” There is a snapping sound, a crunch, squealing brakes. “Mailbox down.”
It’s mid-November and nearly 4:00 p.m., so it’s pitch black outside except for the dim, sepia luminescence of streetlights. Blazing high-beams skate across the window. Jen steps back, blinking.
“Who is it?” you ask.
“I don’t know. Some guy in a green Nova.”
A Chevy Nova? Front-wheel drive? Not advisable. Almost everyone here has an SUV…or, better yet, a pickup truck. Outside, the high-beams die and a car door slams. Five seconds later, he bursts into the lobby carrying a massive golden retriever. There’s blood all over the dog’s head and chest, drying clumps snared in his fur; still, his tail is wagging. It starts wagging harder when he sees you.
“You’re a vet, right?” Nova guy asks frantically. He’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater, a red flannel shirt, light-wash Levi’s, and black Converses. Another bad choice; he should have boots. “I saw the sign outside.”
“I sure am.” You point him to the exam room. “Right this way.”
Nova guy staggers through the doorway and heaves the golden retriever up onto the high metal table. Jen follows you both into the exam room with a clipboard to record her notes. She is the all-purpose assistant and your sole employee. The veterinary clinic is otherwise empty; your last appointment—a routine and uneventful checkup of Mr. Sullivan’s cantankerous tomcat Biggie Smalls—ended twenty minutes ago. You begin to evaluate the golden retriever. He has a laceration on his muzzle, but seems otherwise unharmed. His tail is still wagging. Head wounds bleed a lot and can thus incite disproportionate panic. Oftentimes, they aren’t half as bad as they look.
“You can fix him, right?” Nova guy pleads. There’s a streak of tacky crimson blood on his cheek, you notice now. “A bear got him. Clawed him, I think. I let him outside when I got off work, and next thing I knew I turned around and he was chasing off a bear. A goddamn bear. Like a huge bear. A Smokey Bear bear.”
“Yes,” you say, amused. “We have bears here.” Then you add: “Your dog is going to be just fine.”
“Oh, thank God,” Nova guy exhales, clutching his chest. You numb the golden retriever’s muzzle with lidocaine and begin disinfecting the wound with povidone-iodine solution.
“What’s his name?” Jen asks. She is busily jotting down notes.
“Sunfyre.”
Jen pauses, pen hovering in mid-air. “Sun…fire…?”
“Sunfyre,” Nova guy repeats irritably. “One word. With a Y.”
“…Where is the Y…?”
“In fire.”
Jen frowns down at her form as she fills in the letters. “Why would you spell fire with a Y?”
“To make him more awesome, obviously,” Nova guy murmurs. He leans down to rub the golden retriever’s shaggy ears and wobbles as he does. Sunfyre’s tail thumps on the exam table. “You’re gonna be okay, buddy. Yes you are. You’re gonna be just fine, the nice vet lady says so.”
You catch a whiff of him, dark bitterness and sweetness and spice: rum, a lot of rum. “Did you drive here drunk?”
He narrows his eyes at you. They’re bleary and royal blue. “Maybe.”
“It’s like 4 p.m. on a Monday, why are you drunk right now?”
“I’m sorry, are you a people doctor? Because I thought I came here so you could fix my fucking dog.”
“He’s getting fixed,” you assure the man calmly. You’re accustomed to dealing with rather unhinged pet owners. To some people, animals are like children; and you wouldn’t expect someone to act rational if their kid was lying here bloodied from a bear attack, would you?
“How old is he?” Jen asks.
“I don’t know, like, young?”
“About five,” you say, checking Sunfyre’s teeth. Then you begin suturing. Nova guy moves to pet the dog’s side to give you more room to work; Sunfyre is so relaxed he’s nearly dozing. “Has he had his rabies shots?”
“Yeah, he’s had them, he…” The man pats his jeans pockets. “Oh shit, I mean I don’t have the paperwork with me or anything, but I know he’s good because he got vaccinations in San Francisco and that’s the last place we were. Less than a year ago. Like eight months tops.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because this is important.”
“Look lady, I don’t even know if I’m up to date on my shots, but I know for a fact he is.”
“Okay,” you concede.
“What’s your name, sir?” Jen asks Nova guy, relieved in anticipation of a nice simple human answer: Jason, Michael, Daniel, Brian, Steven.
“Aegon,” he says.
“…Aegon?!”
He glares at Jen with a dreadful sort of resignation, as if he’s repeated this moment a thousand times in a thousand different universes. “It’s Greek.”
“You don’t look Greek.”
“You don’t look like a genealogist.”
Jen recoils and continues her notes. She has a point: Nova guy—Aegon, you mentally amend—has pale sunless skin, dark semi-circles under his eyes, hair so light a blond it’s nearly pure white. Jen begins her next question tentatively, like she’s afraid to ask. “Last name?”
“Targaryen.” And then he adds: “Also Greek.”
She stares at him. “Tar…?”
He sighs. “T-A-R-G…”
As they go back and forth—again, Jen is baffled by the placement of a Y—you instinctively glance up at the flier on the wall. The police have plastered them across every business in town: Report suspicious activity immediately! Beware of strangers! Help keep Juneau safe! The words are bright red beneath the sketch of a menacing, scarlet-eyed specter in a trench coat. The first body was found almost exactly a month ago. The second was found two weeks after that. You and Aegon catch each other looking at the flier and then pretend you didn’t.
You finish stitching and give the golden retriever an encouraging pat on the head. His tail thuds rhythmically against the table. “Alright, Sunfyre is good to go. I’d like him to stay one night so I can put him on an IV just in case. And he’ll have to wear a cone until his stitches come out. Your total is $300.”
“$300?!” Aegon exclaims. “What are you gonna put in the IV, cocaine?!”
“Antibiotics,” you say. “And they had to be shipped in from Seattle.”
“Jesus Christ. Okay, Pablo Escobar, hold on, hold on…” He pulls crumpled dollar bills out of his tattered leather wallet. “I’ve got…fifteen…uh…sixteen…” He starts counting quarters.
“Jen can write you up a bill,” you offer.
“Oh, yeah. Great.” He replaces his cash with palpable relief. “I can pick him up tomorrow?”
“Anytime after noon.”
“Cool.” He plants a loud smacking kiss on the crown of Sunfyre’s head. “I’ll see you soon, buddy.” Then he lurches out into the lobby. You tell Jen to put Sunfyre in one of the kennels and bolt after him.
“You can’t drive home like this,” you tell Aegon, horrified.
He whirls. “…Why?”
“Uh, because you’re drunk?!”
He drums his palms against the front door and groans dramatically. “I’m not gonna hit anybody. There are like six people in this whole town, I live ten minutes away, what’s gonna happen?”
“You can’t drive home,” you insist.
“I’ll go super slowly.”
“Don’t make me take your keys. I’ll do it.”
He throws up his hands, exasperated. “Fine. I’ll walk.
“It’s dark, it’s 30 degrees outside, you’re not even wearing a coat. You could get lost and freeze to death. Or eaten by a bear.” Or murdered by the Ice Fisher.
“Lady, what do you want from me?!”
You grab your parka off the coatrack. “I’ll drive you.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Jen can watch Sunfyre and I’ll start his IV when I get back.”
Aegon considers this, considers you. He’s not suspicious; he’s more…how can you describe it? Caught off-guard. Out of practice. “Okay,” he says finally. “Oh. Also.” He scratches his chin, avoiding your eyes. “I think I ran over your mailbox.”
“That’s fine. My dad will fix it.”
“Your dad?”
“Yeah, he lives next door. He’s recently retired and always looking for new projects. You might have done him a favor, actually. Saved him from a night of Dateline and Buffy The Vampire Slayer.”
Slowly, cautiously, Aegon smiles. “Happy to help, I guess.”
Your Jeep Cherokee is brand new. It has grey upholstered seats, cupholders, a Starfleet Academy bumper sticker, and automatic windows. The license plate is blue and embossed with Alaska’s state motto: North To The Future. There’s a Sarah McLachlan tape in the cassette player. Heat blasts through the vents; Building A Mystery tumbles out of the speakers. Aegon tells you that he’s renting a place downtown near the harbor and gives you vague, generally unhelpful directions. You listen as he speaks, of course, but you study him too, as much as you dare to without being too obvious, stealing rapid-fire glimpses. He talks with his hands a lot: clasps them together, touches his face, gestures lethargically, runs his fingers through his hair. There’s a lock that keeps escaping from behind his ear to rest on his right cheek, the one with the bloodstain. You have this strange compulsion to tuck it back into place.
“Cupholders,” Aegon remarks as you pull out of the small gravel parking lot, banging his fist on them. He has a British accent, but it’s diluted somewhat, understated. “Nice.”
“Yeah. I hate to tell you this, but the Nova was a really bad idea. You’re going to be snowed in half the winter.”
“Fantastic,” he quips. “I just bought the cheapest thing I could find when I got here.”
You peek over at him. Streetlights illuminate the bruise-like shadows under his eyes, the height of his cheekbones. “Your people don’t usually stick around this late in the year. Tourist season is over.”
“I’m not a tourist,” Aegon replies with a crooked grin, and does not elaborate. And then, when your Jeep rolls to a stop outside his apartment building: “Look, I know this is super random and all, but…like…” He stalls. “Can I get you some hot chocolate or something? I happen to be an aficionado of truly exceptional hot chocolate.”
“Oh, really? Homemade?”
“Swiss Miss,” he says. “But I have a secret ingredient.”
“I’m really not interested in getting roofied this evening.”
He laughs. “The secret ingredient is not roofies. It’s French vanilla coffee creamer.”
You hesitate. The words from the flier blare in your skull like a neon sign: Beware of strangers! Help keep Juneau safe! “I really shouldn’t.”
“I’m not gonna murder you,” Aegon says with probably too much bluntness. He starts turning out all his pockets. “You can search me, I got nothing on me except my wallet and keys. I just…well…” He smirks guiltily. He is sobering up. “I feel like I made a really bad first impression.”
“You definitely did.”
“And I want to make up for that because you helped my dog and everything. And now you’re helping me. And I just don’t want you to think I’m a horrible person.”
“Are you?”
“What, a horrible person?”
“Yeah.” You’re only half-joking.
Aegon doesn’t appear to be joking at all. “I think I’ll let you figure that out for yourself.”
You should go back to work. You should definitely go back to work. You should definitely not follow this weird drunk man up to his apartment. “Okay, but I can’t stay long. And I’ll ask you to remember that Jen has your full and highly unusual name and is more than capable of telling the cops that you’re the last person I was seen alive with. So it is in your best interests not to murder me.”
“Deal,” he says, and scrambles clumsily out of the Jeep.
Aegon’s apartment isn’t even a one-bedroom; it’s a studio with a couch and tv at one end, a bed at the other end by the windows, and a practically microscopic kitchen. As he bangs around in the cabinets locating a pot and two mugs, you admire his collection of refrigerator magnets. They represent a kaleidoscope of American cities: a dolphin from San Diego, the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco, a blue crab from Baltimore, a boiled lobster from Portland, a gold nugget from Denver, a cowboy on horseback from Dallas, the Sears Tower from Chicago, a cactus from Phoenix, a pair of dice suspended in glittery pink liquid from Las Vegas, many more.
“You’ve been to all these places?” you ask, awed in spite of your explicit intention not to be.
“Yeah. I found Sunfyre in Phoenix. That was three cities ago.”
“Found him?”
“Wandering emaciated and terrified on the side of a highway.” He’s stirring the pot over a red-hot electric burner. On the counter wait two mismatched mugs: the blue one is bigger, but the green one is more opulent, gilded with tiny gold stars. “You ever been outside of Alaska?”
“I got as far as Colorado for vet school.” Not far enough, you almost add. “How long have you been here?”
“Seven weeks. No. Eight.”
“So you’re the Ice Fisher.”
He tosses back his head and cackles wildly. “You are not the first person to think it, but you are the first to ask.” His smile dies and he looks at you directly, deadly serious. “No. I’m not the Ice Fisher.”
For some reason, you believe him. “Why Juneau?”
“Because it’s really, really far from Miami.”
“What’s in Miami?”
“Beaches. Bikinis.” You stare at him, waiting for further explanation. He stares back, offering none. He returns his attention to the hot chocolate. “I’m here for the winter trolling. Chinook salmon.”
“So only six months.”
He nods. “Only six months.”
“Where are you going next?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll let Sunfyre pick. I’ll dip a bunch of travel postcards in peanut butter and see which one he eats first.”
“So you just bounce around like that? Constantly? Perpetually?”
“Yeah.”
“It never gets lonely? You don’t miss anyone? Family, friends…?” A girlfriend? A wife? Five charming white-blond children?
“No,” he says flatly. He yanks open the refrigerator and pulls out a small glass bottle with a yellow label: 99 Whipped, Whipped Cream Liqueur, 49.5% ALC/VOL. He holds it up to show you, to offer it to you.
“No, I’m good, thanks though.”
“You sure? It’s whipped cream flavored.”
“I’m majorly sure.”
He unscrews the top with his teeth and takes a swig. Then he dumps the rest in the green mug. He flicks open a cabinet, produces a jar of French vanilla coffee creamer, and scoops a generous amount of the snowy powder into both mugs. He lifts the pot of hot chocolate from the stove and empties it into the mugs like molten metal into molds. He stirs the contents: separate spoons, oddly considerate. You move to take the blue mug, but Aegon stops you.
“Not quite yet,” he says. He rummages around in the refrigerator until he finds a can of whipped cream. He tops off both mugs with a fluffy white swirl. “One last thing…” He grabs a Hershey bar from the freezer and a flat metal cheese grater from a drawer. He leans over the mugs and—with startling, painstaking, somehow vulnerable care—shears just enough chocolate off the bar to dust the whipped cream with fine dark shavings. He passes you the blue mug and grins triumphantly. “You have to freeze the chocolate or it’ll melt when you try to grate it. A girl showed me how to do that.”
“Wow. You’re literally Martha Stewart.”
He is waiting for you to take a sip. You do. The hot chocolate is, in all honestly, ridiculously good: rich, creamy, smooth. He sees this on your face. “Told you.”
“Maybe you’re not so horrible.”
“Don’t be hasty. The roofies haven’t kicked in yet.”
You stand in the kitchen together drinking hot chocolate under dull, flaxen lights; Aegon doesn’t own a table or chairs. Your gaze roams around his apartment and settles on a jade green, extremely battered electric guitar propped against the wall by his bed. “Do you play?”
He turns to look. “Oh, that? No, no way.”
“Why do you have a guitar if you don’t play guitar?”
He grins, holding his mug with both hands. Steam curls up around his face like fog, like smoke. “Makes chicks think I’m more interesting than I am.”
“And yet you told me the truth,” you say. “You are really blowing this.”
“Yeah, that sounds like me.” He slurps his hot chocolate and licks the whipped cream off his lips. There is a deep, not entirely unpleasant silence that descends over the kitchen. Still, you feel compelled to break it.
“You seem to like green a lot.”
“I guess so.”
“Why? Because it’s the color of money…or trees…or Subway…or Heineken…or…?”
“Or…” He contemplates this for a while before he decides. “Camouflage.”
The silence reappears, less comfortable this time. “I really do need to go,” you tell him. It comes out like an apology, a regret. “Jen is supposed to get off work at 5:00 and I don’t want to make her stay too late.”
He replies with an unexpected question. “You ever go to Ursa Minor?”
Ursa Minor? The little bar beside the harbor? No, never. Your best friend Heather has been trying to cajole you into going—her brother Trent is always asking about you or something—but you have yet to succumb to her peer pressure. You aren’t really a bar girl. You’re a stay up half the night comforting sad animals girl. “Yeah, totally, sometimes. Why?”
Aegon smiles, a little dazedly, a little pleased. “No reason.”
All the way back to the veterinary clinic, your brains are wrangling with Aegon: everything about him, parts you wish you didn’t care enough to notice. When you enter the lobby—along with a gale of ice-cold wind peppered with snow flurries—an incredulous Jen is waiting for you.
“You drove him home? Alone?!” She jabs an index finger at the flier on the wall, one of so many. “While that lunatic is still out there somewhere?!” The cartoonish figure in the trench coat leers at you with red eyes. They call him the Ice Fisher because of what he does with the bodies. He goes out to Dredge Lake, drills a hole in the ice just wide enough for the shoulders to fit through, shoves his victim down into the frigid water to wait there in the dark and the cold until they are brought up. He leaves blood smeared on the ice. That’s how the police found the bodies, how they’ll keep finding them.
You shrug. “He needed a ride.”
“He needs an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, that’s what he needs.”
You sigh loudly. “Thank you for your sage advice, Jennifer. You are free to go.”
“Yeah yeah. I’ll give the cops his name when you go missing. Tell them to look for the drunk white-haired loser with the Nova.”
More forcefully, you repeat: “Thank you, Jennifer.”
“Take a chill pill, I’m going.” She pulls on her parka and disappears out into the night. You stand in the lobby—in the silence, in the solitude—staring at the flier for a long time.
In one of the kennels, you find your lone current tenant. “Hey buddy,” you say to Sunfyre, using Aegon’s nickname for him, and the golden retriever perks up. You pet his silky fur (well cared for, you observe), ensure he has enough food and water, get him an extra blanket, and start an IV: antibiotics with a light sedative so he hopefully doesn’t manage to wriggle out of his cone. You’ll set a few alarms and get up throughout the night to check on Sunfyre…although your dad will almost certainly volunteer to do it for you. This clinic used to be his, after all.
Before you leave, you spend fifteen minutes sitting with Sunfyre: brushing his fur, humming to him, letting him lick your knuckles like wordless little thank you notes. Not for the first time in your life, you find yourself wishing that animals could speak as well as we do, could spill secrets like blood or falling snow.
“Interesting human you’ve got there,” you say.
Sunfyre, peering up at you with his trusting umber eyes, only wags his tail in reply.
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the-s1lly-corner · 1 year ago
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Attention TADC fans!
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I'm officially opening requests for characters! Below the cut will be my base list of rules in regards to requesting and that sort of thing!
To everyone who followed me for creepypasta, do not fret! Creepypasta is still this blogs default and I'm not going to stop writing it for the forseeable future, I will still be responding to creepypasta based asked in the meantime
oh also, im adding this right before i post this but i do have fluff alphabet requests open for creepypasta, but to my TADC fans, how do you guys feel about the possibility of me reposting that list and letting you guys ask for it? im still kinda itching to do alphabet stuff... let me know ! ill probably do it anyways but i want yalls input!
without further delay:
RULES:
please do not spam requests, i know it will be hard to enforce this on my end since i want to keep anon enabled since i know it can be intimidating to ask for stuff non-anonymously
since the main cast + caine only totals to 7 characters i will allow people to request the entire cast in any given request, WITH THE KNOWLEDGE that the more characters the shorter their list of hcs will be
please do not pester me to answer your request, i will very likely answer your initial ask. consistent breaking of this boundary will result in warning, and if further boundary breaking takes place, the request will be terminated
^SHOULD NOTE! sometimes tumblr eats the requests you guys send in so simply asking if your request made it through is 100% totally fine!! I'm specifically talking about people who try to pressure me to answer sooner, I want to make that clear because I do not want to discourage anyone from reaching out about that sort of thing
Reader is GN by default, you can request a specific gender but know it likely wont be important due to my writing style
WILL WRITE:
SFW, angst, comfort, hcs, short imagines and scenarios!
As mentioned I will do all characters, asides Bubble since I don't think there's much that can be done for them
Poly, LGBT, readers with disabilities and/or disorders (will let it be known here that i am in no way well versed in every disability/disorder, however i will attempt to do basic research for the request)
I am also comfortable with writing platonic requests and found family dynamics! I am not limiting myself and you guys to romantic stuff!
reader abstracting, while this may seem contradictory to some of the things in my will not write segment I have written about grief and loss before and I don't think it fully fits the category of what I won't write + death in general, so it shall get a pass
really there isnt much i will turn down that comes to mind, if something is breaching a line or making me uncomfortable i will let you know
reader inserts, ocs, and the like are all welcome here! im not too confident with oc x character stuff due to the simple fact that i fear i may interpret your oc wrong but i am still willing to try!
WILL NOT WRITE:
general problematic stuff is an immediate no
^so like, straight up abuse and abuse adjacent topics since as far as Im aware all the characters in TADC are adults (if I have that wrong please please correct me!!)
i am also iffy on yandere requests, this one is more on a case by case basis so please be sure to specify the intensity of it, since that will really be a make or break for whether or not if the request is accepted
NSFW, this blog is for the most part SFW. I occasionally vague certain aspects, however nothing is ever explicit. That's how far I'm willing to go with these things and I want to keep it that way
Full fledged fanfics; a lot of my scenarios/imagines tend to border on that just on a much shorter scale and in a slightly different format, but I am not totally confident in my ability to write proper fics :(
no graphic depictions of gore or self harm, and i ask that you keep that out of my inbox in general. topics like SH are allowed, however covering requests for the act of it as its happening is an automatic no (IE if you ask me to walk in on a character walking in during an act of self harm), the same applies to suicide
ADDITIONAL NOTES:
i have a nasty habit of not proofreading my stuff, so grammar and spelling mistakes are bound to happen unfortunately. this tends to be a worse issue when im posting on mobile (which i am doing less and less since i like typing on a keyboard more)
^ on top of that i struggle with writing, english is my first language but i have a hard time getting stuff out right on top of having dyslexia so please be patient
i typically tend to respond to requests fairly fast, typically within a day or two, though i do have some periods where it may take longer. (possible) same day delivery YAHOO!!
back to a forewarning, i have a habit of rambling and adding additional ideas and concepts into a request though for the most part i think i remain on topic (that just means you get a little extra content for your request ueueue)
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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year ago
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Exciting news, my babies! 💗
As many of you know, I want to be a professional writer. I love telling stories and brightening your days by making you all feel all the feels, so much so that I feel called to do it more than I am now. I 100% could not have gotten where I am without your love and support of me and my fics! I also want to get my writing business off the ground, expand my audience, pay my bills, and be able to provide y'all with the stories you love, so...
I'm starting a Patreon! 🎉
This feels like a HUGE step (and I am very nervous but this past year has been all about following my gut and taking risks, so here we are)!
The plan is to have different tiers/levels that people can join depending on the benefits they want.
I have some ideas of what I want to provide, but I'd love to hear from YOU what you're interested in for different levels!
Here are some ideas I'm rolling around for different tiers:
Early access to fics (this one is for sure at all levels!)
Exclusive-to-members Scarf Universe stories
Alternate Pink Scarf/Broken Glass chapters (from different character perspectives or new/expanded/deleted scenes)
New stories/series (related & unrelated to EP)
Pink Scarf Alternate Universe requests/stories (like a What If...series)
Scarfie Discord
Merch
And (hopefully!!) benefits related to novels I want to publish in the future!
(And don't worry. This does NOT mean I'm going to stop posting here on tumblr. I will always be here! I just may not post ALL of the fic things here...)
You are my OGs. My special darlin's. I want your input! Please let me know in the comments and reblogs what above sounds good to you or if there is something you don't see here that you'd like to!
I'm so excited and can't wait to hear what you think!
💗Madi
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(I'm adding my Taglist cuz I don't want y'all to miss this!)
@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love
@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore
@jazmin2211  @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy  @amiets2  @saintmagx
@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals  
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@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23
@lacyluver @littlebitofgreen @paigevis @bugg06 @xhannahbananax03 @artlover8992
@18lkpeters @frozenhuntress67 @girlblogger2002 @kendralavon7 @misspresley @elv1s-is-pretty
@be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love
@precious-little-scoundrel @stylespresleyhearted @prompted-wordsmith @crash-and-cure @elvisgf @ohjustpeachy1 @lookingforrainbows @fic-over-cannon @godlypresley @ab4eva @whatstruthgottodowithit @elvisabutler
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musicoftheheart · 4 months ago
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oh my gosh okay so I wanna ask about all ur wips honestly but that kind of defeats the purpose soooooooo
4,7,8,14
4 because it sounds really ominous, 7 because the title makes me think someone (probably james) freaks out every time someone else (probably regulus) speaks french and a third person (probably sirius) thinks hes having an allergic reaction, 8 because this sounds like a sequel to hold me tight (and never let me go)??? and I have been loving that fic so far and cant wait for you to finish it (but no pressure, take ur time of course), and 14 because thats funny as shit
also, I remember you saying a while ago you might write a snooker au? is that happening? (again no pressure, I just wondered if u forgot to list it since you mentioned having brain fog recently (which is a cool name for it btw and I will be using it in future))
hi!! thanks for asking! <33
so ive covered a couple of these in another ask, so ill only sum them up here (you still get rambled at though dw <3)
4. dont walk too close
so! as i said in another ask, this is a fic following sirius (and regulus, later) starting hogwarts as walburga’s obedient heir, only to end up in gryffindor and learning that life isnt quite the way he’d been taught. his revelations and his sorting end up causing tension at home in the yule holidays, and a series of events end up with regulus in gryffindor too. im sure we can all imagine how that one goes. i posted a snippet in the other ask here
7. french epi fic
HA okay i love your guess, but— well, actually, youre closer to the truth than you might’ve thought. sort of.
regulus has just escaped his parents’ clutches and moves across from france to the one place he hoped he might be welcome: sirius’ home in england. its set in yorkshire, because thats where i grew up before i had to move away, and i miss it :( regulus’ english is poor as it is, but meeting sirius’ ridiculously attractive housemate, james potter, muddles his brain enough where the few basic greetings he knew were gone
james has epilepsy (thats where the ‘epi’ in the title comes from), remus gets them all free donuts, and sirius refuses to flirt on behalf of either james or regulus with the other. its chaos, its fun, and im enjoying it so far despite only being a few thousand words in. here’s a snippet:
Regulus slowly set his eyes back on the house. “It’s so big.”
Seeming to finally catch up on Regulus’ surprise, Sirius explained, “Effie and Monty helped us get on our feet, but with what Alphard left…”
”Mon dieu,” he breathed. But this time, it wasn’t at the house. It was at the man stepping out of it.
Stood at the front door, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun that had emerged from behind the rain clouds, was the most beautiful man Regulus had ever laid his gaze upon. His dark brown hair was tussled in a mess of curls on his head, but almost like it was purposefully messy rather than just uncontrollable. Round golden glasses sat upon his bronze skin, framing his chocolatey eyes perfectly, and a wide grin pulled at his mouth and revealed a little dimple on his left cheek.
When Regulus was eventually able to tear his eyes from the man’s face, his breath caught again at the sight of the rest of him. He clearly worked out, if the muscles making his t-shit stretch were anything to go by, but he wasn’t tall — perhaps only a couple of inches larger than Regulus himself, and he reached only a measly 5’7. Something shining in the sun caught Regulus’ eye, and he saw a thin metal bracelet on one of the man’s wrists.
”Hey, James!” Sirius called, climbing out of the car and snapping Regulus out of his trance. He’d made it to the boot to pull Regulus’ suitcase out before Regulus had even managed to open the passenger door.
”Padfoot!” James called with just as much enthusiasm — that was, far too much considering they lived together and had presumably seen each other just a few hours ago before Sirius had left to pick Regulus up. “And mini Pads!” he added, spotting Regulus finally getting out of the car.
Regulus shot him a swift glare for that nickname. He may be cute, but looks could only get him so far.
8. the warmth of your arms rivals the sun (its burning out)
this is another ive covered in another ask but i love it so im still gonna talk about it. youre exactly right, by the way — it is a hmt sequel! i guess the naming conventions were similar enough ahaha. its very james-centric with background storylines, and focuses on much heavier themes than those in hmt. i wont go into what they are, but anyone who was around during chapter… four? five? i dont remember, but it was early on. i added some tags, then took them away once i decided id split it into two parts. if anyone remembers those tags, that’s what twoya will cover :))
14. sirius is actually helpful for once wtf
this is planned to be a shorter fic, but still multi chapter. its pretty much just sirius shipping jegulus and doing everything he can to get his two favourite people together :) not written yet, but ive got a fair bit planned so far
bonus: snooker au
okay so, i would love to say i’ve worked on this some more since then but… i haven’t :( i really want to, but i want to do it well, which i know will take a lot of time. but, the details i have so far:
its the snooker world championships. regulus black’s first, but james potter’s third. sirius black — former world champion — is the estranged brother of the newbie regulus black, and the mentor and best friend of james potter, who was second place two years ago, but couldnt compete last year due to an unrelated injury, though healed up now. james, of course, is head over heels for regulus. regulus, of course, pretends hes not pining madly for the boy who stole his brother. sirius, of course, pretends hes not offended or hurt that regulus wont even try to fix their relationship. he also just happens to be stealing glances at remus lupin, who came fourth last year and seemed rather close to regulus. theyre all hopeless, and determined to win.
thanks for your ask! <33
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ladylynse · 1 year ago
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Happy Halloween! 👻
For continuing a three sentence fic - I’d love it if you wrote more of the second idea for “file cabinet” or the thermos/drowning fic
Links:
https://ladylynse.tumblr.com/post/728500835869474816/i-went-on-a-trip-down-memory-lane-and-visited
https://ladylynse.tumblr.com/post/185211125716/hi-there-im-feeling-a-little-evil-today-so-how
Happy Halloween, Anon! I think the file cabinet was the more popular prompt with people, so I went with that one even though the temptation to torture Danny further was very much there. The original three sentence fic is copied here, and the rest is under the cut.
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Logically, Vlad knew Daniel couldn’t escape his current predicament without help, and the vultures—incompetent though they could be at times—were capable of handling the simple task of alerting Vlad to the inevitable arrival of Daniel’s little friends.
That didn’t stop Vlad from giving into the urge to pull open the middle drawer of his filing cabinet to make sure the little badger hadn’t woken up and escaped since Vlad had stuffed him in there upon Valerie’s unexpected arrival, though.
Vlad had gotten Valerie out of his hair sooner rather than later, and his newest invention had done the trick in taking care of Daniel since he was still unconscious, but Vlad couldn’t help but feel that the other shoe had yet to drop; he’d won this time, but he still half expected something to explode in his face whenever he opened the drawer to check that Daniel was still there, and he doubted he’d feel otherwise until Daniel woke up and was finally forced to come to the realization that he didn’t have the upper hand.
-|-
In hindsight, Vlad supposed he should not be surprised that the other shoe had waited to drop until the little badger had woken up.
Oh, Daniel still didn’t have access to his ghost powers—Vlad had made quite sure of that—but it seemed that he was far from powerless.
Evidently, lock picking and untying knots had been added to Daniel’s repertoire, and Vlad would have to ghost-proof some cable ties in the near future. Daniel’s escaping the pilfered Fenton Fisher line was less of a surprise than his escaping the purloined Fenton Cuffs (Vlad had wanted to account for the possibility of another ghost helping him as best he could), since Vlad had no idea what he’d managed to use as a lockpick. Sam’s influence, no doubt. Her parents weren’t as high class as they liked to pretend, but Vlad had met them enough times even before moving to Amity Park to be quite sure she’d taught herself how to pick locks in early childhood.
Not that any of the particulars mattered when Daniel, freed of his bindings and his gag and now the filing cabinet drawer, was hurling priceless Packers memorabilia in Vlad’s direction and cursing up a storm while doing so.
“Language,” Vlad scolded lightly. He was intangible and floating just slightly off the ground, and he had a duplicate ready to ambush Daniel before he could grab something else Vlad didn’t want to be destroyed, but it was hard to keep up the pretence of indifference when he could hear something break as it hit the wall behind him.
Sadly, that was the reason Vlad was down to one duplicate.
Daniel scowled. “Says the guy who thinks butter biscuits is a satisfying swear. Seriously, get a better writer. Maybe you can hire the Ghost Writer because your original stuff sucks.”
“That’s not—!” Vlad bit off his protest. Daniel was trying to rile him, but at least when he’d started talking, he’d stopped throwing. Vlad let the duplicate lapse; he didn’t need the headache of splitting his concentration, and Daniel seemed bound and determined to give him a headache. “I’ll be frank with you, shall I?”
“I mean, I guess calling you Frank is a step up from what you usually want me to call you, but….”
Vlad heroically resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Let me be crystal clear. Whether you like it or not, you fell for my trap, and your little friends are going to be more than preoccupied with dealing with my employees. You may have escaped from a drawer, but you have not escaped this room, and you will not escape me. You do not have as many options as you seem to think you do.”
Daniel tilted his head. “You sure about that? Because I think you have it backwards. You fell for my trap, my friends are keeping your employees busy, and now you don’t have as many options as you think you do.”
Vlad shot him a withering look. “Bluffing will get you nowhere.”
“Who says I’m bluffing? Even if you don’t think we saw your setup coming a mile away after all those hints Skulker’s been dropping, Sam and Tucker aren’t my only friends.”
“The ghosts—”
“The rest of my friends are not automatically ghosts. Geez, don’t you stalk me enough to know that? Wasn’t that what all your creepy spy stuff was for? Learning everything about me and Mom?”
Vlad sighed, but Daniel would only keep interrupting. Vlad wouldn’t lose anything by humouring him on this. “I can handle your sister.”
“Okay, one, she’s gotten better, and two, she’s not who you’re missing, so it’s a moot point even if you don’t believe me.” Daniel grinned. “So how about some show and tell?”
The final words were pitched louder and carried an emphasis they shouldn’t have, given the mundane nature of the conversation, which should have been Vlad’s first clue. Or perhaps his second. Third? The first clue he shouldn’t have missed, anyway.
But hindsight is always 20/20.
“I dunno,” said Valerie’s voice above him, clear even above the whine of her charging ecto-gun. “You told me a lot, and this showed me a lot, and I didn’t hear a lot of denying going on where it mattered.”
Vlad slowly raised his hands, though that was more for the show of it than anything else. Half the weapons he gave Valerie wouldn’t work on him, or at least wouldn’t work well—if he could figure out a way to exclude his ecto-signature and therefore being recognized as a ghost, he’d done it—but she wouldn’t know that.
Besides, being shot with an ecto-gun in this form would hurt more than it would a regular human, even though he’d set these sorts of weapons to automatically adjust and downgrade their charge should they ever be aimed at him or one of his duplicates.
“Whatever lies Daniel has been telling you—”
“He’s not the one who’s been lying to me,” Valerie hissed, and as Vlad finished turning to look up at where she was perched at the window entrance she always used, he realized that her weapons were not lit with his ecto-energy but with Daniel’s.
They had planned this.
Daniel really hadn’t fallen for his trap; he’d waltzed into it and turned it to his advantage.
Butter biscuits.
(see more fics)
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kinardgo · 2 months ago
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so im writing the bucktommy ranch au that someone briefly spoke about on the dash and so quickly implanted in my head that i started researching insane things like "weather conditions in colorado in march" and "lethargy in sheep" in ways that will generate some of the most bizarre targeted ads in my future im sure. however, this is very quickly becoming Not A Oneshot or even Not A Short Story and now im panicking because i dont know how people do this.
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facewithoutheart · 1 year ago
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Thanks to @messofthejess & @forabeatofadrum for the tags and for everyone else who’s been tagging me lately ❤️❤️❤️ I’ve been an utter wreck these days so I’m taking a cue from @forabeatofadrum and sharing a bit from every fic that’s haunting me. It’s the WIP Night of the Fic-Dead.
A few tags up front for people who I think will care about one of the struggling WIPs: @ileadacharmedlife, @bazzybelle, @yellobb, @artsyunderstudy, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @raenestee, @thewholelemon & @bookish-bogwitch.
Clips under the break.
Fic commitment I need to get my act together on
From my unnamed COTTA, which is a pre-WWII fic that may or may not form a Captain America AU in future days:
I swipe under my nose, adding more red to already bloodied knuckles. “Really, Baz, I almost had ‘im.”
“Obviously,” Baz drawls, leaning into my space to dust off my hair, shoulders and chest. One hand lingers on my sternum, like he’s letting my weak heart prove it’s still beating.
I swat him away. “Quit your mother hennin’.”
“Be a better chicken and I will.”
Posted fics that need a new chapter
From the next chapter of All I Ever Wanted was the World, which I think about daily but never write:
“So what did you do to piss him off?”
Somehow it doesn’t feel right explaining. I’m sure we both come off wrong with it, but I don’t like speaking for other people. “Ask him.”
“Not really that interested.” Niamh pushes off where she’s been leaning against the counter. “Do you use those or are they purely for show?”
I glance at where her gaze falls. “My arms?”
“Don’t be stupid.”
From the next chapter of On Love’s Light Wings, that I never think about except to wince when I remember it exists unfinished:
My arms come up, pushing under the back of his shirt to feel his bare skin. There are moles here. I never touched them… when he was alive…
Last time…
He’s doing that thing. That thing with his chin. I’m a puddle. I’m his; I don’t even care that he’s not my Simon…
From Santa Baby, which I fucking swear I am trying but I actively hate this concept:
“It’s hardly a problem–” Shepard argues.
“What prob–”
“Shhhh,” Simon shushes me.
I drop my jaw. “Ex-cuse–”
“Shepard,” Simon whines, “I can’t just…”
“Did you just shush–”
“He’s a complete stranger.”
I scoff. “Hardly.”
From the next chapter of boulders turn into sand, which I have started and restarted and restarted and… you get the point:
My fists grip the back of his shirt, wrinkling his silk and I told myself I wouldn’t do this; I told myself this was a line I’d never cross. That I’d never take one night from Baz at the cost of our friendship.
But then he whispers, “Please, please,” against my lips and maybe I’m not taking anything.
Maybe I’m giving.
Other shit that buzzes around my head but never makes it to paper:
when your heart goes, my Padam Padam-inspired sequel to blame it on the spray which would cover sexy club dancing, Lamb, Baz biting Simon, and maybe some weird bond shit if I ever managed to clear my plate of unfinished stuff to write this just to see if I can.
The Real Ending, my The Real Tragedy sequel where we find out if Simon found Baz but, more importantly, whether Natasha can truly accept her son, which is why I haven’t written it. Because boooring.
Bad Wolf/Blue Lace, which I’ve decided if I ever finish it should be my last fic in the fandom. My insanely dramatic reverse Open Sesame moment where I lure you all in with cracky bullshit and then leave on the most personal note I can.
Baz Baby or Two Roommates and a Baby which, at this point, I’m only interested in writing so I can sneak in some kinky shit as a gift.
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nicegaai · 4 days ago
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i'm playlist anon (is this a good name for me. i haven't decided on what a good name would be for me yet)... okay i LOVED your response it brought me such giddy like you can't even imagine. i've been listening to your playlist too and it fits with them so much??? like my playlist is mostly "easy listening while reading" tbh but yours is way more character appropriate (which i guess makes sense because you're the writer). i added a new song to my playlist though. more swedish english-language indie.
anyways i think the thing i'm most curious about right now in terms of your past decisions: why did you switch timo from an only child to someone with siblings? in general, how would you characterize the sibling dynamics (other than sig and emil's, but you could talk about that as well ;]) in ThR? [i'm on my computer now. no more thorns.] another thing is: where do you actually characterize the story being? i'm personally imagining they're all diaspora in some sort of midwestern (north dakotan/minnesotan) suburb and cookie salad (which i've been told is the premier minnesotan salad) is at the periphery of being mentioned in the fic. but i want to hear your thoughts.
i saw u made an acct (second acct? burner acct?) and i can call u by that url if u want :3 playlist anon is also good! whatever u r comfortable with. pick an emoji if u like, for shorthand...
anyone making any kind of art based off of sm i made is like a dreammmmm im honored i inspired u!!!!!! thank u for TELLING ME that i did, that took some guts im sure and im really so so happy!!!!!!! i luv the easy vibe of it, ill absolutely be listening again to hear the updated version!
QUESTIONS I LOVE QUESTIONS. I HOPE U LIKE LONG ANSWERS! OK :
anyways i think the thing i'm most curious about right now in terms of your past decisions: why did you switch timo from an only child to someone with siblings?
i have a very long answer to this one bc i am a chronic overthinker
i wanted berwald to be an only child to a single mom for character reasons. i finally got into his head and i was like ohhh . it has to be this.
imagining timo as a little flamboyant gay boy with a supportive older sister makes me happy
i went down a wiki rabbit hole at some point about the sapmi people and i concluded that if she was related to anyone, it would be fin
i drafted a post canon one shot where ber's only-childness was a plot point and i think i worked backward from that revelation
in general, how would you characterize the sibling dynamics (other than sig and emil's, but you could talk about that as well ;]) in ThR [i'm on my computer now. no more thorns.]
HEHEHE. well... i think everyone else is normal.
mads has his two kid siblings and he is more than 10 yrs older than both of them ... the kind of age gap where hes closer to a third parent or uncle
timo grew up as a gay boy w an older sister. their sibling dynamic is normal if not uncommonly positive.
ber doesnt have siblings but he grew up surrounded by cousins so in a way they are his siblings. i think thats part of why the whole Thing is harder on him. plus the internalized homophobia and some other reasonable objections.
emil and sig are idk... very distant emotionally. they grew apart pretty dramatically once they stopped hanging out as kids and nothing was able to bridge that gap. until now! ... i havent thought much ab their precanon relationship much if im honest. im fixated on their unhealthy future codependency :)
another thing is: where do you actually characterize the story being? i'm personally imagining they're all diaspora in some sort of midwestern (north dakotan/minnesotan) suburb and cookie salad (which i've been told is the premier minnesotan salad) is at the periphery of being mentioned in the fic. but i want to hear your thoughts.
i feel called out omg... yeah, if this is set in the usa, it would be in north dakota. ive never been to the midwest in my life though and i dont know anything about how people live there so im not going to throw in anything culturally specific to the region. except for my largely midwest emo inspo playlists. lmao
the thing is i also in my heart want it to plausibly be set IN one of the nordic countries but choosing one is favoritism so its all vague on purpose. for instance whenever i said "football" = can be whatever sport comes to mind, both are valid interpretations. but i am american and americabrained so trying to make something culturally neutral really just defaults to Somewhereville, USA
tldr they live in some small town wherever u think would be funniest
sorry im kind of tired these answers mght be incomplete or rambly but i want to answer this ask so bad
#p
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solicelegacy · 9 months ago
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WIP-
So im working on this HL fic an its definitely still very much a work in progress but honestly i've been struggling with motivation with it.
The idea behind it is suppose to be a chapter(or maybe a couple chapters) of Amit's future memoir, and it's all about the new F!MC 5th year through his view. I personally haven't seen anyone else do it like this, and it's been on my mind since I first played Hogwarts Legacy.
Im hoping posting just a snip of it will push me into the motivation i need. This is just the potions class part the writing so I hope you all enjoy. I'd love any feedback you can give <3
p.s. Forgive my writing, I literally haven't writen anything in years
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The days went on, and I didn’t see much of the new 5th year other than classes. However, the talk about her never seemed to stop. From helping classmates with miscellaneous tasks around Hogwarts, fighting trolls in Hogsmeade to even rumours about the dark wizards called Ashwinders looking for her, she appeared to get more mysterious than ever. While allegedly everyone knew her, nobody seemed to know her. Nobody knew about where she came from before Hogwarts, nothing about her family, no one could even tell you what she liked to eat since she appeared to never be seen in the great hall during designated meal times. The only thing people insisted they knew is she took to spending time with Sebastian or Natsai, but getting information from those two was as impossible as taming a graphorn. I was beginning to assume that having a conversation with her was never going to happen, until that fateful potions class.
I remember this potion class like the day I first discovered my parents' Gobbledegook notes. We were tasked to make the perfect wiggenweld potion. Professor Sharp had called on me to explain why it’s a handy potion to have on hand. A simple question really, a first year should even be able to answer it. However, if you find yourself reading this and don’t know, wiggenweld is used to sterilize and even heal a variety of injuries but not all injuries so don’t rely on it as a cure all. With Professor Sharp's nod of approval and points awarded to the Ravenclaw house for my answer, we began to brew our potions. 
The new 5th year was stationed on the other side of the room, just being in the same room as her was making me anxious. How was I supposed to approach a person who has built such a strong reputation in just the few days they’ve been here? As much as I wanted to ask her every question that I could possibly think of, I decided to observe them between the steps of making my own potion. It was probably the safer option to not get too close to someone who supposedly had ashwinders on their trail. After all, it took almost all summer to convince my parents Hogwarts was safe to attend even if there were rumours about a goblin rebellion happening. 
I’m not really sure what I was expecting when it came to their potion making. After their show in Defence Against the Dark Arts, I was positive there would be a magnificent spectacle awaiting in this class, but there wasn’t. There was no flair when crushing Dittany leaves, no throwing all the ingredients into the cauldron at once, no massive explosion when adding the horklump juice, just normal uneventful potion making. If it weren’t for all the rumours you’d think she was just your normal everyday Hogwarts student. 
Soon enough Professor Sharp got up from his desk to check on each student, making sure they were following instructions carefully. He made his way to the new 5th year first, assuming he was skeptical of them succeeding on making a flawless potion their first try. But as Sharp had approached their station, she had turned to face him holding a perfectly green potion in a vial. With all the commotion of the classroom it was hard to hear what the Professor was saying to her but I managed to makeout something about ‘recent exploits’.  I could only imagine what he was referring to but the rumours don’t make it that hard. She gave Professor Sharp a nod before heading towards his office door only to be stopped by the lively red headed gryffindor, Garreth Weasley. 
It was easy to tell when Garreth was planning to make whatever concoction his mind made up that day. He would have this specific gleam in his eyes, with a mischievous grin to match. When he made that face you knew an explosion of some kind would surely follow. This time they both were closer to me so I could hear them. Garreth double checked to make sure Professor Sharp wasn’t listening before asking her to collect a fwooper feather among the ingredients for her edurus potion she was tasked to make. She seemed hesitant, not wanting to get on Sharps bad side to which I don't blame her for not wanting to cross an ex-auror. However, Garreth persisted to which she reluctantly agreed too. Her expression showed uncertainty compared to Garreth's beaming smile of success as the two parted ways.
Hearing Professor Sharp’s office door close behind me, I returned to finishing up my own potion. The colour finally being the perfect shade of green, I slowly began to pour it in the empty vial. Before turning in my now completed wiggenweld potion, I went over the steps in my notes just to triple check I followed each step correctly. I was so engrossed with my notes I didn’t notice the set of footsteps walking towards my direction. 
“I was impressed you were able to answer Professor Sharp's question about the wiggenweld potion.”  The unfamiliar voice had startled me out of my thoughts and quickly turned around to only be met with a friendly smile and a small wave. It was her. Up close she didn’t appear very intimidating, she just seemed like a normal 5th year as excited to learn as any other of our peers. Her eyes however, seemed to have this fire shining bright with determination. 
I gathered myself quickly to introduce myself so as to not be rude. While I had reservations about her with all the rumours and hobbies she seems to have, she was actually quite pleasant. I took this opportunity to complement her flawless effort on her wiggenweld, she really did seem to have a knack for potion making. My nerves were getting the best of me, I simply kept rambling on but she didn’t seem to mind, smiling and nodding to the almost nonsense spewing out of my mouth. Our conversation wasn’t a long one, we parted ways with the knowledge that we would be sharing Astronomy class together. A class I was always excited to attend.
As she headed in the direction of her potion station she almost seemed to hesitate before heading towards Garreth instead. She appeared to be reluctant to hand over the bright pink fwooper feather to the very eager Weasley who gladly took it from her before she could change her mind. If only she knew what she had got herself into. 
She was in the process of making her edurus potion when the show began. As no surprise to anyone but the new 5th year, Garreth’s concoction started to spark like fireworks before quickly bubbling over, splashing all over himself and neighboring stations. Annoyed groans had come from Sebastain and Natsai who were the unfortunate victims to the putrid concoction. With a clearly frustrated sigh from Sharp and points taken from Gryffindor he had called for whoever Weasleys accomplice was to answer to him as well, looking towards the new 5th year who was bottling up her potion doing everything to avoid Professor Sharp's piercing gaze. 
When she finally couldn't avoid his gaze forever, she made her way towards his desk in the front of the room. I couldn’t tell if Sharp was more annoyed or disappointed in how she chose to spend her class time. Usually actions like this resulted in detention or house points taken away at the very least, not this time. Maybe because it was her first offence with him or maybe it was because she gave a genuine apology about her actions, who knows. Professor Sharp seemed to be just as impressed with her work as everyone else was. With a final warning to her about ‘not a potions master quite yet,’ he dismissed the rest of class. Almost instantly she turned on her heels to apologize to her unfortunate foul smelling friends for the mess she caused them before bolting out the door claiming she had somewhere to be. 
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megamindsupremacy · 4 months ago
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🦋 and 🌷? (Best of luck with your airport wait)
the ask game
🦋 tell us about ur current wip
AAA okay so I’ve been working on this Stewjon worldbuilding Star Wars AU for MONTHS now that im super pumped about. It’s been almost done for a while but I haven’t had time to sit down and finish it literally all summer (I’ve been studying abroad, which is why im in an airport rn).
The AU is a lot of world building for the planet Stewjon - im taking a lot of inspiration from Scottish culture and history while adding Star Wars elements to the planet’s culture. I briefly went insane in this post and explained the overly complex naming system I invented just for a little bit of off-screen angst in the future. The AU started because I wanted an excuse to ramble about textile production in fanfiction format and it SPIRALED from there
Here’s a snippet bc im really enthusiastic about this AU (yes I gave obi-wan [“obi-wen” here] siblings)
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🌷 writing achievement you want to brag about
oooo im not really sure? she’s the giggle at a funeral and Weep, Little Lion Man are my two longest non-chatfic fics, which im really proud of. They’re only 8k/6k but it’s really hard for me to write longform fic, so I’m happy that I’ve come so far from 200 word drabbles in only 3 years
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bakudeku-recommendations · 2 years ago
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BKDK Time Travel AU Recommendations
Note: some of these contain smut, suicide, or death of some kind. Make sure to check tags!
P.S. Let me know of any other recommendations you would like! I will try my best to find some good ones :)
1. Second Chance
By: SaysiWrites
Summary: Izuku Midoriya grew up thinking he was Quirkless - turns out he just needed to face death to activate it.
Tags: Canon Compliant, Midoriya Izuku Has a Quirk, Protective Bakugou Katsuki, Angst?, Fluff, once you get through all the dark shit, Canon-Typical Violence, Time Travel (kind of), suicide (kind of), Depression (briefly), Non-Graphic Violence, Short Chapters, slowish burn, Temporary Character Death, Don’t copy to another site
2. Fantasia for Two Gentlemen
By: pandoras_thomg
Summary: Pro heroes Ground Zero and Deku get caught in a time-travel villain’s quirk and end up spending the night with each other’s middle school selves. Truths come to light, feelings find their home, and destinies change in summertime.
Tags: Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Pro Hero Midoriya Izuku, Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Middle schooler Bakugou Katsuki, Middle Schooler Izuku Midoriya, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Size Difference, Age Difference, Mirror Sex, Izuku is adorable, Rutting, Creampie, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Explicit Sexual Content, Bottom Midoriya Izuku
3. Time Travel
By: bkdkwritingsdump
Summary: Izuku swaps places with his future self due to the effects of a quirk and finds himself in the apartment he shares with... Katsuki? Who is his boyfriend? Things get emotional as he realizes not only just how wonderful his future is, but that he won't remember any of it when he returns.
Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, Time Travel, Quirk Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), Emotional, Sharing a Bed, Soft Bakugou Katsuki, Jealousy, Hurt/Comfort, POV Alternating
4. Do it For Them
By: Yuhime
Summary: Katsuki does everything he can to make sure that damn nerd and their apparent daughter from the future are safe until they can figure out a way to return her to her own time.
Tags: bakudeku, class 1-a - Freeform, or atleast most of them, Minor Character Death (Mentioned), More tags will be added as the story progresses, Not Beta'd, Slow Burn, Like real slow, Swearing, eventual smut for the teens, smut for the future couple, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Class 1-A Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), Morning Sex, Kidnapping, Shower Sex, Blow Jobs, Rough Oral Sex, Minor Kaminari Denki/Kirishima Eijirou, Minor Iida Tenya/Uraraka Ochako, Minor Todoroki Shouto/Yaoyorozu Momo, Public Blow Jobs, First Time
5. hero duo
By: lu_marii
Summary: Pro hero duo Kacchan and Deku are thrown into the past, have a conversation with their old class, and drive their teacher insane.
Tags: Time Travel, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, twinstarsweek
6. My future?
By: Bkdklover95
Summary: Izuku wakes up and he is older? Also why is Kacchan so nice and also who exactly is the future him???
Tags: Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Soft Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Boyfriend, Cute Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku is a Tease, Quirk Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel, Daddy Kink, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Humor, Funny
7. Off The Clock
By: mythical_song_wolf
Summary: Pro Hero Deku is sent back in time, two months before he ever meets All Might... But it seems like somebody follows him soon enough...
Tags: Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Swearing, Canon Rewrite, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Probably ooc, im trying okay?, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Compliant, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Angst, Protectiveness, Tooth-Rotting, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Established Relationship
8. You're My Type
By: Gbo
Summary: Midoriya has a definite type even if he refuses to admit it. With the new edition of 'Top Sexiest Heros', said type becomes painfully clear to the ladies of class 3A. The teasing session that results leaves tensions high... But what would happen if his ultimate type is thrown back from the future.
Tags: Aged-Up Character(s), Third Year Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Everyone's 18 y/o, Shinsou Hitoshi Replaces Mineta Minoru, IDFK Mineta died or something, Midoriya Izuku & Shinsou Hitoshi Friendship, Midoriya Izuku Loves Bakugou Katsuki, Embarrassed Midoriya Izuku, Izuku has a type and it's blondes, You'll see what I mean, Quirk Accident (My Hero Academia), Time Travel, They get swapped, 28-year-old Bakugo Katsuki, 28-Year-Old Midoriya Izuku, Characters Are Pro Heroes (My Hero Academia), Sex God Bakugo Katsuki, no beta - we die like Sir Nighteye, Eventual Smut, Canon Compliant, Kaminari Denki is a Little Shit, Uraraka Ochako is a menace
9. Every Day, Again and Again
By: bundie
Summary: Stupid fucking quirk accidents. One minute, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight was fighting some C-List villain side by side with his hero partner Deku, and the next, he was blasted through some swirling mass of violet light. The last thing he heard was the broken call of “Kacch–!” before he was slamming face first into a brick wall. Where the fuck was he?
Tags: Characters Are Pro Heroes (My Hero Academia), Future Fic, Quirk Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), Quirk Accident (My Hero Academia), Bullying, Middle School Student Bakugou Katsuki, Middle School Student Midoriya Izuku, Time Travel, Established Relationship
10. once upon a younger year (when all our shadows disappear)
By: ArbitraryCategories
Summary: 25-year old Pro Heroes Deku and Dynamight have been bringing Hope and Victory to the citizens living in AFO's Japan for years now. Unfortunately, a new League recruit calling herself Vanish gets in a lucky shot, and suddenly the Wonder Duo finds themselves in a strikingly undamaged park—face to face with their 13-year-old selves. Stuck in the past, they decide that there's only one thing to do: save the future.
Tags: One For All Quirk, Haunted by Past One For All Users' Ghosts (My Hero Academia), Time Travel Fix-It, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Pro Hero Midoriya Izuku, Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki, Middle School Student Midoriya Izuku, Middle School Student Bakugou Katsuki, U.A. High School (My Hero Academia), U.A. Teacher Midoriya Izuku, Teacher Bakugou Katsuki, dadmight, Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might, villains made up for plot, time travel villain for no reason other than i needed SOMETHING, Engaged Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, found family except he found them from a distance, Class 1-A as Family (My Hero Academia), Overuse of italics, I will add character tags and relationships as they show upor as they are mentioned insert evil laughter here, realized i forgot to tag swearing, Swearing, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Toga Himiko is Not a Villain, Adopted Toga Himiko
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