#look at me writing fic again

[asahiwasabi]

for the warning signs i’ve completely ignored

Geto Suguru hated the color blue.

But Gojo would be Gojo, and Geto would love him the same.

read it on ao3!

[heywriters]

If you want to write a dumb little story with a dumb little plot and ridiculously silly characters. No one's stopping you. Genuinely, no one should be allowed to stop you. Write that dumb story with your whole heart and don't hold back.

[atlabeth]

Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!

under the moonlight

fic about the ball

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): basically all fluff

as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!

ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight 

and thankfully, that all goes okay. 

You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals. 

All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect. 

But post-ball is rough on both of you. 

You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much. 

To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs. 

You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”

A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”

“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses. 

You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”

(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again) 

You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed. 

“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”

“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.

“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”

“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you. 

You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat. 

“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head. 

(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck) 

It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?

but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao 

and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted 

(spoiler alert: it will not go away.) 

so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down. 

“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?” 

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.” 

“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well. 

You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.” 

“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered. 

You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.” 

That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?” 

“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.” 

He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.” 

“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.” 

“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.” 

“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.” 

“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.” 

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.” 

He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand. 

“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.” 

“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked. 

It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped. 

“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again. 

Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.” 

“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.” 

You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?” 

His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded. 

“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.” 

Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp. 

yeah girlie I wonder why 

Luke is. not a great dancer 

You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol 

He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol 

And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way. 

“How do you do this? It’s impossible.” 

“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.” 

as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao 

And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together. 

Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it. 

You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda. 

Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him. 

“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand. 

“Trust me.” 

And he does, somehow. 

You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy. 

“And lift!” 

Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him. 

Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him. 

“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?” 

“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?” 

Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.” 

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.” 

Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose. 

“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.” 

You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.” 

A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.” 

“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.” 

“It truly is.” 

You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you. 

You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said. 

You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.” 

When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?” 

“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.” 

“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.” 

“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.” 

“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.” 

The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so. 

“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.” 

You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach. 

Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room. 

“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.” 

You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything. 

“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins. 

“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.” 

You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester. 

“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.” 

“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?” 

“Certainly.” 

“And you are my knight.” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed. 

Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes. 

“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…” 

His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile. 

“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly. 

And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him. 

[fivepibbles]

they have him pinned, but at least they're warm!

fanart for @tsunochizu 's backwards through the snow fic! im SO normal about this story (still emotionally recovering from chapter 15) i love this fic so much <3

they are the STINKIEST of family...

(for those who haven't read this fic, first of all, go read it now. but also pebbles is mostly ok. kinda. hes just dirty and stinky... amongst other things)

[inklore]

i love people who write for underrated characters and fandoms. i love people who barely get 100 notes and keep posting. keep writing. keep doing what they love and not letting lack of interaction completely hinder their enjoyment on here. you’re strong. you’re valid. you’re literally the backbone of the writing community on here!!!!

[varyathevillain]

no joke but what I really want for Buddy Daddies as a fandom is to make fanart and fanfic post present time ep12 where Rei wears an arm orthosis when working.

I think varied disability aids being represented would be fantastic, and personally would write Rei as someone being deeply proud of something he's done for his family, but also understanding with time that using an orthosis also helps him at work and in raising Miri. with a giant portion of mobility/motorics aids being represented by prosthetics, seeing more variety and exploring it in fiction would also help making a step in normalising disability treatments.

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

[neat-soda-enjoyer]

Looking Out For You

Your childhood crush came back! Except he wears a red helmet and goes around either killing criminals or pulling some underground scheme you’ll hear about on the news. And he has beef with the Batman so why is he still adamant on looking out for you?

Please do not steal or repost any of my writing

Context: You, a secretary working for Detective Cash Tankinson’s Investigations, get mixed up in the kerfuffle between Red Hood and Batman. After a series of misunderstandings and mistakes, you find out that the criminal (?) is the Robin who had your preteen heart in a vice gripe years ago. That nice boy who you remembered that went out of his way to make you feel special, even if you never knew his true identity. You eventually moved on when he stopped showing up and Batman was paroling around with a new, younger sidekick. But now it seems that he remembers you, too, so now you have the Red Hood take up the unneeded position of your guardian angel.

Also, you’re an artist/sculptor whose projects centers around the subject of violence against women/girls because you’re an abuse survivor. Still, you decided to prioritize your day job wonder how that'll turn out

Trigger warnings: Past abuse/molestation (no rape) of reader, violence, drugs, trauma related to past abuse, Gotham being Gotham at its best (crimes being a normality), Jason’s torture and death, assault, attempted assault

No smut (yet), but ofc there’s gonna be mentions of sex and nudity

Side note: The fic does not take place in any canon timeline. Aside from following the main canon plots, everything else is going by my version (Reader’s timeline :] ).

Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with DC comics or its franchises.

Tag: #Looking Out For You in Gotham

୨ৎ . ׂ 𝒩𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 ִ 𓂃 ࣪ ⟡

Chapter 1: That Night (Not yet posted)

Chapter 2:

Chapter 3:

[oceanwithouthermoon]

ive come to realise that i dont actually hate kubokai, i just hate the way people write them

[essektheylyss]

hi hello hi I need to scream for a sec but I HAVE A SHORT STORY IN A PRINT ANTHOLOGY! like a real actual physical book!!! the anthology as a whole is about resource scarcity and specifically the moment a resource runs out, and true to form I wrote a funky thing about time and grief and messy familial relationships and gardening. cuz what is there to do when something ends other than to keep maintaining your plants.

this isn't even to say you should totally buy this thing but if you do want to check it out, it's available for preorder

[the-kipsabian]

wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

[mamawasatesttube]

society if the timkon tag wasn't just ~the batfam~ ft. a cardboard cutout labelled "kon" as set dressing, occasionally also ft. extremely tired bernard-related ooc angst, but instead was actually full of works that were actually about tim and kon and their relationship

[presiding]

high chaos/low chaos/join the chaos in my dishonored 2 rewrite

[writeouswriter]

*Sighs dreamily* Writing dialogue, my beloved.

*Hisses with intense malice* Writing all the dialogue tags and actions between dialogue, my beloathed.

[usedtobecooler]

slutty little blurby blurb about joe’s thick fingers 🤍

you find yourself staring at them all. the. time. and it’s hard to ignore them when he’s just constantly fidgeting, fingertips twiddling with his rings or running them through his hair or fixing his clothes. it’s just. constant.

he’s trying to have a conversation with you, and you’re trying to listen you really are — but he’s playing with the ring on his middle finger and you’re finding your brain short circuiting, as you watch his perfectly manicured nails dip under the band and slide it up to the knuckle then back down, a nervous habit.

your thighs clench. of course they do. you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something stupid, from launching yourself at him across the couch. he’s just a friend, just a totally normal friend who’s actually really famous now and could have any woman he wanted, he doesn’t want you like that.

“what size is that ring?” the words sputter out like word vomit before you can stop it, and your eyes go wide. he looks at you in confusion, and you bury your mouth in your glass of wine, swigging a large gulp full and willing the ground to swallow you up.

he chuckles, and it’s so deep you feel it fucking vibrate through your body, even though not one part of you is touching him, “i’m not sure, darling. it’s old. size twelve… fourteen maybe? i don’t know american sizings, it’s whatever a british ‘t’ is.”

your mouth waters. brain turning completely to mush as he draws attention to the ring for you to look at, slips it off of his finger and grabs at your own hand, sliding it deftly onto your thumb. you don’t have thin fingers either, really, but the ring is completely loose and slips back off when you move your hand.

“i have big hands.” he shrugs — and no shit, you fucking know. it’s not as if you hadn’t been lusting over them this entire time, or anything. he picks up the fallen piece of jewellery, pops it back on his finger, completely oblivious to how he just knocked the breath out of you.

you’re not sure how you ended up here. but you’re hazy from the alcohol and he cornered you in the bathroom, also very much past the stage of tipsy himself. his mouth is hot on your neck and you’re melting — what is happening? how did you get here?

“i see the way you look at them, love.” his voice is rough and gritty and you hate how you flutter and melt so easily for him, “do you want me to show you what i can do with them?”

and the cats got your tongue. you don’t know what to say, as his rough stubbled beard rubs at your neck, sure to leave a rash behind. but his lips are so soft, a complete contrast, as he peppers kisses on your flushed skin.

his hand slides up the inside of your thigh — hot and heavy and engulfing your flesh, a true testament to just how wide his hands were, “come on, darling. got to say something or i can’t do this for you.”

and he’s so sweet, of course he is. he’s waiting for your permission to touch you properly and your head is spinning — not from the alcohol but from how obsessed you were with him, as a person. you nod, a whiney little ‘please’ escaping your lips.

it’s that easy. his hand skirts up your thigh to rest on the mound of your cunt, hot and heavy. he tsks when he feels the damp patch you’ve left behind on the silky fabric, leaving his place in your neck to grin at you all stupid, “knew it.”

your fingers grip at the loose, white shirt he’s wearing, as he hooks two fingers into your underwear and pulls them to the side, baring your folds to the cool air. he’s hasty, a slight desperation in him as the pads of two of his fingers run in between your lips, gathering the juices.

they’ve not even entered you yet and they’re already spreading you wide, just the tips circling your hole — you honestly couldn’t brace yourself for it once he slid his middle finger in to the hilt, the metal of the ring catching on your entrance. you clench around it and he gasps, all mocking with his pearly whites on display.

“all this, for me?” he asks, and it’s probably not meant to come across so dirty but it does and you moan in response. he crooks his finger, the soft tip catching on your front wall, sliding over the spot that makes your eyes flutter.

he pumps his finger in and out a few times, before he’s running the tip of his ring finger on your entrance, preparing you for the breach of it. it doesn’t do anything, really, because when his second finger joins his first it feels like the airs being knocked out of your lungs. you whine, tugging him closer to you with the hand wound tight in his shirt.

you find yourself sinking up and down on his fingers to match his thrusts, and his wide, blown out eyes are caught between looking at the fucked out expression on your face and where his fingers are sliding in and out of your pussy. he’s mesmerised by it.

it’s a stretch. the thickness of his fingers evident now more than ever, and you can’t help but gasp every time you feel the cool metal of his rings on your folds. he’s clearly skilled in this, keeps crooking them just right, has a perfect pace set that has you hurtling towards the edge quickly.

he leans forward the rest of the way, closing the gap so your lips can touch. it catches you by surprise, but your hands release his shirt and tangle in his mop of messy curls instead, tugging his chest to yours whilst he licks into your mouth like a man starved, catching your moans with his lips.

his thumb flicks your clit unexpectedly, and you come fast after that, gushing down his fingers and no doubt leaving a mess in your wake. he laughs against your mouth, and you can’t help but laugh, too — the desperate want finally lifting from your mind and you realise how silly and fumbly the whole scenario was.

you feel empty once his fingers slide out, your eyes widening when you see his hand is soaked all the way to the wrist, your cum pooling around the rims of his rings. you watch through hooded eyes as he brings his fingers to up to your lips, runs the tips along your kiss slick mouth, then presses them onto your waiting tongue.

i have zero words for why i wrote this other than @daleyeahson bringing attention to joe’s massive hands by gifting him a new ring 😵‍💫

[sparrowsfallingfromthesky]

every single expression trent makes in his first scene of season three is just so so good