it’s the mental illness but every time i see people say they love getting comments and kudos I’m like damn that’s crazy that’s the part i hate the most ❤️

Fic Writer 20 Questions

Thanks for the tag, @merlyn-bane!

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

Eight!

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

217,911

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

*sobbing* Star Wars, my beloved. The brainrot is real; I am consumed. When I was still on FF.net, though, I had stuff up in Harry Potter and How to Train Your Dragon.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

back then, i was dauntless

how to bring him home

if i don't make it back (from where i've gone)

though some would harm you

like lightning changing hands

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I absolutely do! I feel bad because I know I've gotten some lovely comments on chapters that aren't the most recent one, and those tend to get lost in the inbox, but I promise I'm working on it- if you get a response from a comment you left a year and a half ago, don't hold it against me 😅

I do it because I want so badly to build community here! I love getting comments from people, responding to something with a wee hint of a tease because I'm AWFUL and then getting a keysmash of a response and then exchanging snippets in the comments, truly, it fills me with delight- and I've met some absolutely wonderful people who I got introduced to by responding to comments-

Anyway. Community. That.

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh. Hm. Hm.

I... guess it would have to be though some would harm you? Although I'm not sure if I feel confident in that designation, because it's very much part of a multi-work series. And I'm too much of a sucker for happy endings to write a stand-alone fic that doesn't have one, I think.

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

Oh, neural plasticity, for sure! Short and sweet <3

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

A bit. I can brush off the "actually the Jedi were the real monsters" assholes easily enough, but honestly, the comments that hit the hardest are the ones that clearly come from people who think they're offering ✨constructive criticism.✨ Not only because I didn't ask for it, but also because saying my work is "fatiguing" or "I'm sure there's a decent story here, but it's being buried under what you're trying to do with it-" there's nothing constructive there.

Side note: the person who left that last comment deleted it about half an hour later, because when I went to reply, it had vanished from my inbox. I don't know if they did that because they didn't want me to be able to reply, or if they realized that what they said was unhelpful and mean, but if they ever happen to see this-

I still got the email, prick.

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

Write? No, I haven't quite worked up the panache to try. Reading, on the other hand...

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

I do have snippets of one crossover that I actually posted in an anonymous collection, ha- an old BBC Merlin/ Good Omens/ Supernatural fic that I dug out of my old documents. Other than that, no- unless you count the Prequels and the Clone Wars as different enough to qualify as a crossover.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not that I know of- very much open to it, though!

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Since I don't think taking drabbles in tumblr chats to ridiculous lengths counts, I'd have to say no- I'd like to, though!

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Codywan. Fiercely, unwaveringly Codywan.

Just to reinforce this- 292 of my bookmarks consist of Cody/Obi-Wan. The next most common romantic pairing (Aziraphale/Crowley) has less than half that, at 121.

I'm a goner, and I can't even bring myself to regret it.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

OKAY SO I've written snippets of a modern AU focusing on Helix, Needle and Stitch, and I'm totally gonna take this opportunity to rage about it. I'm probably never gonna finish it, but it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling, so, hey- what else is fic for, really, if not for indulging yourself?

At first, it's just Needle and Stitch. It's just been the two of them, for as long as Stitch can remember. Needle's only a few years older than him, but he's raised him, kept him in school, kept a roof over their heads and food on the table-

Food on Stitch's plate, at least.

Then, one night, Needle does not come home.

A hit-and-run, the nurse tells him, although the words will not trickle through until much later. A coma.

He will not, they say patiently, come home for some time.

(There is so much that needs doing.)

Helix, meanwhile, is studying physical therapy at the local community college and working part-time at his brother Ace's bakery.

It's during one of these shifts that a skinny little twerp comes in and hands him a job application.

(Rent and bills and Needle Needle Needle-)

It doesn't take Helix long to realize something is... off.

Ace tells him not to push it, but-

The kid's a good worker. Great, as a matter of fact. He's never late. Stays past closing, too, if they've had a rush. He tells Helix about his brother and nothing else.

(His brother hasn't come to visit.)

Everything that's not sold at the end of the day gets packaged up and given out. They only toss in the dumpster what's really, truly inedible- stuff that got dropped in the kitchen, scraps left over from customers-

He thinks it's raccoons, at first, until he peers in and sees Stitch flatten himself against a heap of bags in the corner.

They package up leftovers for him, after that. A bit more than leftovers, maybe. Ace sets aside sandwiches. Helix buys him a thermos and tells him it's been in the lost and found for over a year. They make sure he eats.

(Needle's getting transferred out of the ICU.)

Stitch is trying. He's doing everything he can, and more besides. But Needle's life is too expensive and he's buckling under the weight.

(He hasn't even grieved. Not really. No room. No time.)

Eventually, something has to give.

He does.

(He hadn't expected someone to be there to catch him.)

Featuring:

Helix stumbling into adopting first one, then two idiot kids

Ace being a supportive brother

Needle finding his way home

Mace Windu as Needle's (unfairly attractive, Helix thinks) neurologist

Obi-Wan as a hospital social worker who gets assigned Needle's file

Cody as Obi-Wan's husband, Helix's cousin, and children's book author (Stitch's favorite)

(listen I am WEAK for author!Cody, truly)

(Helix was totally the one who got them together and he regrets it every day of his life.)

Sheev Palpatine as the epitome of the evil of the American healthcare system

The Melidaan crew running a long-term, non-profit care facility that offers both in-patient and out-patient rehab services

16.) What are your writing strengths?

(I'VE PUT TOO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS. SHIT.)

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I am, apparently, really good at writing breakdowns. >:3

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Dialogue does not come easily to me. I have to work a bit to hit my stride. But I think it turns out well enough!

Hm. Coming from a purely technical perspective here, I think the reader should be able to understand everything that's spoken in a fic. If a character says something in another language, then I think the best way to convey that is, "X muttered something Y didn't catch," or, if the listener recognizes that it's at least in another language, "X muttered something in French."

If the reader should understand it, then something along the lines of: "'I knew we shouldn't have trusted him,' X muttered in French."

If the POV character doesn't understand the language, it doesn't make sense to provide the reader with a perfect transliteration of what the other character is saying. The character wouldn't have that knowledge. It can really take me out of the fic when two characters suddenly start conversing in written-out sentences in another language, and I have to scroll all the way down to the footnotes for translations.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

But then again, that's just my opinion- I'm sure others have their own thoughts on this!

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Harry Potter.

Hell, I have to say like lightning changing hands, if only because whatever fic I'm writing at the moment is my favorite. It's the act of creation that does it for me!

(Also because it's such a good opportunity to explore so many relationship dynamics.)

No-pressure tags for @jedi-enthusiast, @themonopolyhat, @shadow-pixelle, and @foreverchangingfandomsao3!

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @isagrimorie (thanks for the tag!)

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

only 9 lmao. you're never gonna guess what my fic writing weakness is.

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

108,636 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Doctor Who (and various related fandoms. though funnily enough i've never posted a new who fic), Star Trek (currently just Star Trek Picard but i have a few Voyager wips too), and a single Steven Universe fic.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

this happiness is hell on earth – Steven Universe fanfic about Pearl and Rose's toxic relationship and Pearl learning to recover after the series

And They Became Monsters (the fall of great men) – Gallifrey/Bernice Summerfield/DWEU fic that's a novel length character study of Irving Braxiatel and started as a way to explain his timeline and then i was carried away by the themes.

The Office – a somewhat silly Gallifrey fic where Romana and Narvin fight over an office following Enemy Lines when Romana takes over the CIA

A Holiday – a fluffy Eighth Doctor audios fic where Eight, Liv, and Helen go on vacation and accidentally run into the Doctor's past...

What is Beautiful – Gallifrey fic where Narvin and Leela explore one of the Axis worlds alone and Leela makes Narvin see the beauty in the world

5. Do you respond to comments?

i try to! a few comments always get lost in the email weeds but i try to make an effort to respond.

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

oh this is hidden lore because i wrote it before i had an ao3 account but i posted a Gallifrey fic called Hope in Times of War in 2015. it was on my old tumblr so i doubt that is survives online but was about Gallifrey succumbing to Rassilon's military dictatorship during the Time War and Romana, Brax, Leela, and Narvin all being separated and i remember Narvin was executed as part of military executions and well... no one else had a great time either. i've learned that i prefer writing bittersweet endings to purely angsty ones.

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

i don't tend to go for outright happy 'everything's fine' type endings. the closest is probably What is Beautiful because it doesn't have much of a plot other than some musings on Narvin's character growth.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

on the one SU fic i wrote, i got a weird hate comment an hour after posting it and the commenter edited it like three times so it was no longer hate but just... vague disapproval and complaining about... not even my fic but just the standard interpretation of the show. anyways it didn't bother me but i did think it was funny how bothered this person was over the canonical fact that Pearl and Rose had a toxic relationship.

other than that, i don't really write for big enough fandoms or write controversial enough things to attract any hate.

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

none published :) i've written some smut but i've been far too insecure to publish it because 1) i'm very ace and i think it shows in my writing and 2) some people i know irl have my ao3 and i tend to be conscious about how things i post could escape online containment. if i do publish any smut i'll probably publish it anonymously.

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

again – none published. i have a few Gallifrey fusions i've sketched out before and one Gallifrey/Voyager crossover that i wrote a few pages of over the summer.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope but i would welcome it!

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

nope! i think my writing habits are far too erratic to be a good co-writer but i love sending ideas back and forth with people.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

the Gallifrey ot3. not even necessarily in a romantic sense, just in a 'these characters' lives forever revolve around each other and they can never escape even if they want desperately to leave' sense. Gallifrey was the first fandom that i was really dedicated to and spent a lot of time thinking about so these characters have permanently left a mark on my brain.

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

i only have one posted WIP that i am very much intent on finishing but as for my eternal drafts i have two notable ones that i still work on occasionally but will never be published in their current form:

Star Trek Perseverance – i challenged myself last spring/summer to create my own 20 episode season Star Trek series that i would want to see in the world. it's a slight AU of the end of Picard s3 where Seven and Raffi were given a new ship called Perseverance instead of the Ent G with a mostly OC cast of main characters and a more similar 90s vibe of an episodic series with different tones. i have an outline of all the s1 episodes and a few of the "scripts" written but yeah... writing 20 full length episode scripts is simply too much for me to tackle but i'm toying with the idea of adapting a few to prose/taking out the AU elements to publish because i do really love the "episodes" i wrote and it was fun to experiment with some comedy/light hearted stories which i tend not to write.

also during lockdown i started a 'Romana survives the Time War instead of the Doctor' AU of new who and i sketched out an outline of s1 (and some other big season plot points) but only wrote about 10 pages. it has some excellent writing tbh but given how long it would need to be, it's destined to live forever on my hard drive and in my head.

16. What are your writing strengths?

character voices 100% if i feel like i can't find a character's voice for whatever reason then i simply will not write for them. even when i go back to my old work, i cringe at the pacing/grammar errors, but generally i think the character voices are pretty on point.

i also like to think i've become pretty good at adding rhythm and pacing to my prose when i put in the effort. it's quite hard to do sometimes but it's so satisfying when it works. i'd never claim to be a poet but i love writing prose that just feels good and melodic to read aloud.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

... finishing things. or just committing to projects and ideas that i can actually follow through on.

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

oof. i know enough Spanish (and Russian to a lesser extent) to get through some dialogue but i would very much want to run it by a fluent speaker first. however neither Spanish nor Russian have ever come up in my fics.

the only non-English languages that's come up in my fics are French and Latin. the French was for an abandoned fic and i asked my French-speaking friend to translate. the Latin was for ATBM and i'm pretty sure i ended up taking the line out because i didn't know any Latin speakers(?) (i mean it's a dead language so.... readers? translators?) and was too shy to ask a stranger.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

technically i wrote some HP fic in a notebook when i was 8 though i didn't know what fanfiction was at the time. (obligatory note that i'm not a HP fan or supporter right now given JKR's bigotries and hate speech)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

And They Became Monsters (the fall of great men) without a question. i poured my heart and soul into that beast and was the first time i wrote something that felt like Real Writing with Layers and Themes. when i was done i felt like my writing meant something more than the usual short fic i'd write. like at the end of the day it's a fanfic but it's also a critique of Great Men histories, a dissection of how art and the ways we view art perpetuates imperialism, studying how abuse causes abuse in cycles, how egotism stems from insecurity and slowly eats away at the self, how the self is just a performance and mask of something no one can ever name, and how sometimes the only thing you have to do to break away from cycles of tragedy and violence is to ask for help. (sorry i'm being too pretentious but i am very proud of my work on that one)

it was also the first time i feel like i put real effort into small details and experimented with them like tense – the story is told from the perspective of two versions of the same character and depending on the POV, the story is either told in past or present tense. there are even a few scenes when the two versions meet and i still narrate one's actions in present tense while the rest of the scene is in past tense to drive in how the present-tense character is quite literally out of place. there are also quite a few sections that i purposefully wrote as fragmented and run-on sentences to mimic the thought processes of someone having a breakdown/ideological crisis.

if i had to pick a favorite excerpt it would probably be the confrontation between the two different versions of Braxiatel:

He sighed. “You believe this is my fault? Deferring responsibility? Are you sure that you have grown up?”

“You were the one who lied. You told me I was a hero. You told me I would win the War. My future is Gallifrey’s future. Don’t you remember that?” Braxiatel wouldn’t rise to anger because he was better than that, he would never give up the game. (It’s always been a game.) 

“I told you that you mattered. All children believe they matter.” Neutral, impassive, infuriating. He wasn’t belittling. Maybe to him, Braxiatel was still a child – the wayward son fallen far away from a distant and demanding father. Maybe that was the truth. What a cruel family he’s created. Just another cycle. Ad infinitum.

And here they were, blame circulating around and around. Things would never be resolved. Things would never heal. Braxiatel didn’t even want to heal. He wanted to leave this jagged cut deep inside – so deep that maybe the wrong Braxiatel felt it – because if there was an ugly scar for all to see that meant all the hurt was real. His bitterness and anger was justified because wasn’t healing just erasing? Forgetting the hurt meant letting it happen again and again, and there’s another cycle because he just can’t seem to get away.

Tagging: I can't remember which of my mutuals are fic writers but if you see this feel free to fill it out!

hey, I really hope I got the right person and you actually are the one that wrote it... bc I am here to say I spent the weekend reading Pathetic Fallacy and I LOVED IT!!! a friend recommended it to me bc she said you wrote the best human shironeki and WOW. that is the best human shironeki. also the best human au I've ever read for tokyo ghoul. like, the transplant of ghoul wars -> drug wars fit perfectly and made perfect sense, especially when you hit all the major plot points WITH YOUR OWN SPIN ON THEM. the way it starts out with shironeki and we only get his past in flashbacks is really effective in my opinion. it makes him feel more real bc we didn't personally know the kaneki before. I also love your hide. I love how smart he is and how /self aware/. especially the times when he NOTICES and ACKNOWLEDGES that saying whatever he was going to say would be manipulative for kaneki. like, if only everyone had that kinda self awareness. your supporting characters are also great: Akira, juuzou, touka. hell, even Takashi was well written. and I wish I could give you a thousand kudos for the way you wrote amon and kaneki. you did them such justice. now, I've spent a while waxing poetic about your characters, but I gotta spend some time fangirling over your ability to plot. bc the plot of Pathetic Fallacy is TOP TIER. the way it ties together, the way it arcs, the balancing between plot development and character development... I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.

ok, I'm done vomiting words in your inbox. I hope you are doing well and get to pet a cute dog soon <3

oh ;_____; yes u got the right person. thank u so much for reading pathetic fallacy my first child. it means the world that u think that fic is good since it literally rekindled the love of writing fanfic i had abandoned since middle school. looking back i find it really cringey to read im ngl i was a teenager when i was writing it but i am so So glad u enjoyed it its like a time capsule to me and im glad my writing is able to be enjoyed even in that form.

i want to write you more sooooooo bad but i just dont know that ill ever do it. i will find the outline i have on my old laptop and post a summary one day so there is SOME closure i promise. i had it all planned out ; w ;

um... i doubt u will read more of my more recent writing bc its kpop cringe but i was planning on writing a new fic for tkg soon! its an idea i had when i was writing pathetic fallacy but i finally think i have the skills to pull it off now. it will be under a new ao3 acct but um? maybe ill post abt it on here?

anyway thank u so much for the lovely ask seeing the little notification on the inbox icon gives me so much fucking serotonin and you are so lovely, seeing all your comments appear in my email over the last few days has been absolutely wonderful thank you so so much for giving your time to my old fic.

How would you say fandom culture has changed over the years? What are some differences you notice between older and younger fandom folks?

I’ve been thinking for a while about how to answer this, and I’m not sure I have a really good answer, but I’m going to try.

I’ve been in fandom since approximately 1995. Maybe 1994. At that point, the world wide web was a relatively new part of the internet, and the fandoms I was in had most of their activity on privately-hosted mailing lists (predating eGroups/OneList/Yahoo Groups) and on Usenet newsgroups, with fiction beginning to be available on websites as part of either fandom-specific or pairing-specific archives as well as authors’ individual pages. Fanfiction.net did not yet exist. LiveJournal did not exist. AO3 definitely did not exist. If you wanted real-time chat, there was IRC. I was coming in basically at the tail end of zine fandom; zines were no longer the only way of distributing fanfiction, as fandom started to move online. So I have a selection of zines from 90s-era Western media fandoms but even by then zines weren’t where I was doing most of my reading.

I think in terms of generally “what it was like to be in fandom,” the big-picture stuff hasn’t changed. Fandom still produces creative fanwork and likes to, y’know, get together and talk about fandom. Also, almost every fight or complaint that fandom has about something is a thing that has been going on for actual years. People complain that, say, the kudos button is ruining comment culture because back in the LJ days the only way you could comment on a story was, well, by leaving an actual comment, or sending an email on a mailing list, and this might mean that people who would have otherwise commented have left a kudos instead. But back in the LJ and mailing list days, people were complaining that commenting was going downhill since the days of zines, when in order to comment on a story you had to write a real paper letter and mail it and because you had to do that, the quality of feedback was so much better than you got nowadays because people could just dash off a quick email or comment. You get the idea. Top/bottom wars are not new either. Pairing wars are not new. If you’ve been in fandom a while, you will pretty much have seen all the fights already. I think one thing that is new, though, is the fandom awareness of things like privilege and intersectionality and various -isms, as well as things like “providing warnings might be nice” (do you know how much unwarned deathfic I have read? a lot!) and I sure won’t say we’re perfect at any of this now, but I think fandom is trying way way more about all that stuff than it used to.

There are some fights we actually don’t have anymore, as far as I can tell. I feel like it’s been years since I’ve seen the “real person fiction is wrong” battle, but also I don’t hang out in a whole lot of RPF fandoms, so it’s possible that’s still going and I just don’t see it.

There also used to be a recurring debate about whether gay relationships that were canonical were slash or not. When slash started, obviously this wasn’t a question because there weren’t canonical gay relationships in fandoms, period. But as gay characters began to appear in media, people started to wonder “does slash mean all same-sex relationships, or does slash mean only non-canonical same-sex relationships?” Now, you may be reading this and think that sounds like an incredibly weird thing to get hung up on, but that’s because what appears to have happened is that the term “ship” (originally from X-Files Mulder/Scully fandom) has, as far as I can tell, come up and eaten most of the rest of the terminology. Now people will just say, “oh, I ship that.” For any pairing, gay or not, canonical or not. Fandom seems to have decided that for the most part it no longer actually needs a term specific to same-sex relationships as a genre.

Similarly, there are a few genres of fic that we used to have also pretty much don’t exist anymore. There are also plenty of genres that are well-entrenched now that are also extremely recent -- A/B/O comes to mind. But there are some kinds of fic we don’t write a lot of now. Like, I haven’t seen smarm in years! I also haven’t seen We’re Not Gay We Just Love Each Other in a while. There was also a particular style of slash writing where you’d basically have to explain, in detail, what made you think that these particular characters could be anything other than straight. You’d have to motivate this decision. You’d have to look at their canonical heterosexual relationships and come up with a way to explain why all those had happened in order to reconcile how this one guy could have romantic feelings for another guy. When had he figured out he wasn’t straight? Who might he have been with before? How does he interact with people in ways that make you think he’s not straight? That kind of thing. You had to, essentially, show your work. And these days a lot of fanfic is just like, “Okay, Captain America is bisexual, let’s go!” It’s... different.

Fandom also used to skew older, is my sense. A lot older. I don’t know, actually, if it really was older, but I get the sense now that there are some younger people who are surprised that adults are still in fandom. I have seen people saying these days that they think they’re too old for fanfiction because they are not in middle school anymore. And I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that the barriers to access fandom are a lot lower than they used to be. You used to basically have to be an adult with disposable income (or know an adult with disposable income who was willing to help you out; but even then if you were reading explicit fiction you also had to swear you were 18+, usually by sending in an age statement to whoever you were buying the zine from or to the mods of the list you wanted to join, so a lot of fandom was very much age-gated). Internet access was not widely available. Even if you had internet access, you maybe didn’t have your own email address, so you couldn’t sign up for mailing lists; free email providers didn’t exist. If you wanted to buy zines, you had to have money to buy them. If you wanted to go to cons, you had to be able to afford the cost of the con, travel to the con, et cetera. If you wanted to have a website you had to know HTML. Social media did not exist. You want to draw art? Guess what, you’re probably drawing it on paper! You might be able to upload a picture to your website if you have a digital camera or a scanner, but both of those things are expensive, and also a lot of people don’t have the capability or the money to download pictures from the internet (some people have data caps with overage charges, and some people have text-only connections!), so they won’t get to see it. Maybe you can sell your piece at a con! You want to make a fanvid? We called them songvids, but, anyway, you know how you’re doing that? You’re going to hook two VCRs together and smash the play and record buttons very fast! If you want anyone else to watch them, you are either making them a tape personally and mailing it to them or bringing your vids to a convention. Maybe you can digitize them and upload them, but it’s going to take people hours to download them!

(Every three hours my ISP would kick me off the internet and I’d have to dial in again. If it was a busy time of day, it might take me 20 or 30 minutes to get a connection again. And that was assuming no one else in the house needed to use the phone line. Imagine if your modem went out every three hours now.)

And now, for the cost of my internet connection, I can read pretty much whatever fanfiction I want, whenever I want it. I can see all the fanart I want! I can watch vids! Podfic exists now! Fanmixes exist! Gifsets and moodboards exist! If I want to write fic I can write it with programs that are completely free, and as soon as I post it everyone in the entire world can read it. If I want to draw or make vids that may require some additional investment, but I may also be able to do it with things I already have. Do you have any idea how good we all have it?

There are a couple of kinds of fan activity that don’t seem to exist anymore, though, and I miss them. I know that roleplaying still goes on, but I feel like these days most people who do real-time text roleplay have switched to things like Discord. I know that in the LJ days, RP communities were popular. But I really miss MU*s (MUDs, MUSHes, MOOs, MUXes..), which were servers for real-time text-based RP with a bunch of... hmm... features to aid RP. There were virtual rooms with text descriptions, and objects in virtual rooms with descriptions, and your character had a description, and they could interact with the objects as well as with other characters, and you could program things to change descriptions or emit various kinds of text or take you to different rooms, and so on. Just to, y’know, enhance the atmosphere. It was fun and it was where I learned to RP and I’m sad they’re pretty much gone now.

I also don’t think I see a lot of fanfiction awards in fandoms. Wonder where they went.

Going back to the previous point, the barriers to actually consuming the canon you are fannish about are way, way, way lower now. You can pretty much take it for granted that if right now someone tells you about a shiny new fandom, there will be a way to read that book or watch that show or movie right now. Possibly for free! Of course you can watch it! Why wouldn’t you be able to?

This was absolutely, absolutely not the case before. I’m currently in Marvel Comics fandom. If there is a comic I want to read, I can read it right now on the internet. I have subscribed to Marvel Unlimited and I can read pretty much every comic that is older than three months old; the newer ones cost extra money. But I can do it all from the comfort of my own home right now. I was also, actually, in Marvel Comics fandom in the nineties. If I wanted to read a comic, I had to go to a comic book store and hope they had it in stock; if they didn’t, I had to try another store. Not a lot of comics were available in trade paperback and they definitely weren’t readable on the internet. I used to read a lot of Gambit h/c fic set after Uncanny X-Men #350. I never found a copy of UXM #350. I still haven’t! But I did eventually read it on Unlimited.

Being in TV show fandoms also had similar challenges. Was the show you were watching still on the air? No? Then you’d better hope you could find it in reruns, or know someone who had tapes of it that they could copy for you, otherwise you weren’t watching that show. It was, I think, pretty common for people to be in fandoms for shows they hadn’t seen, because they had no way to see the show, but they loved all the fanfic. The Sentinel had a whole lot of fans like that, both because I think it took a while for it to end up in reruns and because overseas distribution was probably poor. So you’d get people who read the fic and wrote fic based on the other fic they’d read, which meant that you got massive, massive amounts of fanon appearing that people just assumed was in the show because it was a weirdly specific detail that appeared in someone’s fic once. Like “Jim and Blair’s apartment has a small water heater” (not actually canonical) or “Blair is a vegetarian” (there’s an episode where his mother visits and IIRC cooks him one of his favorite meals, which is beef tongue).

Like, I was in The Professionals fandom for years. I read all the fic. I hadn’t seen the show. As far as I know, it never aired in the US, and it certainly never had any kind of US VHS or DVD release. I’d seen a couple songvids. I eventually saw a couple episodes in maybe 2003, and that was because my dad special-ordered a commercial VHS tape from the UK and paid someone to convert it from PAL to NTSC. I didn’t get to see the whole show until several years later when I got a region-free DVD player someone in fandom sent me burned copies of the UK DVD releases and then I special-ordered the commercial release of the DVDs from the UK myself. But if I were a new fan and wanted to watch Pros right now? It is on YouTube! For free!

I think also one of the things about fandom that’s not immediately evident to new fans is the way in which it is permanent and/or impermanent. There are probably people whose first fannish experience is on Tumblr or who only read fanfic on FFN and who have no idea what they would do if either site, say, just shut down. But if you’ve been in fandom a while, you’ve been through, say, Discord, Tumblr, Twitter, Pillowfort, Imzy, DW, JournalFen, LJ, GeoCities, IRC, mailing lists. And sure, if Tumblr closed, it would be inconvenient. But fandom would pack up and move somewhere else. You would find it again. It would, eventually, be okay. Similarly, if you’ve been in a lot of fandoms, if you’ve made a lot of friends, drifting through fandoms is like that. You’ll make a friend in 1998 because you were in the same fandom, and then you might go your own ways, and ten years later you might be in another fandom with them again! It happens.

But the flip side of that is that I think a lot of older fans have learned not to trust in the permanence of any particular site. If you like a story, you save it as soon as you read it. If you like a piece of art, you save it. If you like a vid, you save it. Because you don’t know when the site it’s on will be gone for good. I have, like, twenty years of lovingly-curated fanfic. And I feel like people who have only been in fandom since AO3 existed might not understand how much AO3 is a game-changer compared to what we had before. It’s a site where you can put your fic up and you don’t have to worry that the webhost is going out of business, or that the site might delete your work because they don’t allow gay fiction or explicit fiction or fiction written in second person or fiction for fandoms where the creator doesn’t like fanfiction, or whatever. Because all of those things have absolutely happened. But, I mean, I still save pretty much everything I like, even on AO3, just in case.

So, basically, yeah, fandom is a whole lot more accessible than it used to be. I think fandom is pretty much still fandom, but it’s a lot easier to get into, and that has made it way more open to people who wouldn’t have been able to be in fandom before. There is so, so much more now than there ever was before, and I think that’s great.

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

Fanfiction Review

I can already tell this is gonna be super confusing bc I've been writing fic since I was 12 but have since gone through so many identity changes. But let's play anyway!

Thanks for the tag @redead-red

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

My current library is 8. I don't actually write fanfic too often unless a specific idea intrigues me-- or something in the fanon just doesn't line up with me. I do have at least 4ish more stories planned and maybe a revised version of an ancient story from when I was young. 2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

166,451! Pretty neato!

3. How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

Uh, in no specific order,

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (lost to purging)

Doctor Who (you ain't gonna find these)

Sonic

NiGHTs into Dreams

Dead by Daylight (<3)

Danny Phantom (my beloathed) Supernatural (my other beloathed)

and uhhhh, I think a bunch of various other video games I can't remember. For the sake of brevity I'm gonna put the rest under the cut.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

This is actually pretty funny bc I have so few fics released. I only get emails for certain ones all the time, so I wrote this part out by guessing, but I ended up not needing to change it. (also, don't read most of these; they're old and bad)

1. Schrodinger's Adolescent, 337 Kudos (Danny Phantom)

2. Teen Years and How to Survive Them, 97 Kudos (Secret Trio)

3. Two Fake Feds Come up the Laneway the other dayyyyyy, 56 Kudos (Letterkenny/Supernatural)

4. Brother's Keeper, 40 Kudos (Halloween, DBD)

5. Beginner's Guide to Destroying the Moon, 37 Kudos (Sonic)

5. Which of your fic do you want more attention for?

I'll be real here, I still enjoy most of the work I did for both Beach House Bummer, and Beginner's Guide to Destroying the Moon. I just wish I got more love for the latter bc I might be inspired to finish it lmao.

6. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I really try to! I love the long rambly comments I get on Schrodinger's because I can feel those people are giving me the same passion I put into my work-- Though most of the time I get the generic "post more" or "update plz" which I dunno I'm grateful for the interaction. Still, I don't really want to repeat like "I'm trying my best, dude." about 12 times a day.

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I'll be real I only have two completed fics rn-- but I can tell you I had this one fic that I wrote when I was fourteen where the ninja turtles had to burn down a lab full of half-born mutant embryos, and like I remember writing that and then going to middle school the next day like "They don't know I'm a literary genius."

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

Probably the Letterkenny/Supernatural crossover-- I feel very strongly about SPN and how people take it way too seriously, so when I found out it was filmed in Canada. It used famous Canadian actors from the show Letterkenny, it felt way too good to pass up. I do hope to write in that space again when I'm feeling less depresso-espresso.

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeah. It's probably a big reason why you'll never see the tmnt fics for a while. I also used to write a lot of OC stories, and this was back in 2014 so like those were def hit the hardest. I'm glad to say it's like... subsided for the most part. I don't get hate as much as I just get really confusing and creepy comments, which don't hurt my rejection-sensitive-ass as much.

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

Hahahaha, no.

I am kind of bad at writing it, and I don't really like writing it. Which yeah that makes sense. My friends sometimes when they find out I write fanfic as a joke they'll send me some of the worst examples smut they can find and to test my talent I'll try to rewrite it to make it some kind of titillating-- but alas it just isn't my forte. The cons of being an asexual I guess.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Uh, yes and no? I think I had one of my older fics stolen, retranslated, and then retranslated again to English? That was so long ago tho.

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

No, but I'd love to give it a shot sometime.

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

Honestly, it's sonadow. I know it's cringe but I'm free, dammit. Outside of that I guess my favorite dynamic is jock/nerd, which you've probably gleaned from my resume here fhsdkjf.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I've been working on Teen Years and How to Survive them since I was 16, I only started making headway on it when I was 19-- so I feel like that speaks for itself hskjhg.

15. What are your writing strengths?

It's been told to me that I'm very funny and I write convincing dialog that captures a character's voice. Which is extremely flattering despite the fact that I feel like I'm tricking you all.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

probably scenery and landscape, if I'm honest. I also accidentally keep creating scenes just for the dialog instead of action or environment.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think as long as I can guess what they're saying from context clues, and the writer is courteous enough to include body language and the like, then it's mostly harmless. I love including a bunch of references in fic whether it's cultural, historical, or just like a quote from a movie or something so I have a bunch of tabs open regardless it wouldn't be too inconvenient for me to fire up google translate or something.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Probably Schrodinger's Adolescent, it really opened up a lot of doors for me in the DP fandom and I got to meet a lot of cool people because of it. It really cheered me up from a dark place. And despite me writing it initially out of anger and spite its grown into this soft thing that really means a lot to me.

20. What fic are you most proud of?

Honestly, I can't pick. I'm both embarrassed by them all and yet glad they bring people some form of comfort.

Uhhhh who to tag-- I don't really know

@ten0rreaper is the only one I can think of-- whoever else I guess can have at it. I'm not very good at these things lmao.

I was tagged by @ellanainthetardis and I’m v excited!

How many works do you have on AO3?

I just have 37 on AO3 right now - I never transitioned my old fics from my ff.net accounts over so if I added in those it’d definitely be a higher count

What’s your total AO3 word count?

125854

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

OUAT, Hunger Games, Stargate (SG-1 and Atlantis), RWBY, Twilight (lol), NCIS, Bones, Harry Potter, Supergirl, and then I guess I wrote an iCarly fic once and a Mean Girls one?? (oh the things I find when looking up my old profiles xD) 

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Playdate (OUAT)

Of Flowers and Numbers (OUAT)

Accidents Happen (OUAT)

Of Microwaves and Dodgeballs (OUAT)

The One With the Single Room (OUAT)

Yes the OUAT/SQ fandom was hopping once upon a time (lol pun intended) with dropping kudos

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I used to on ff.net because I liked the reply method there, and I didn’t really continue doing that when I went to AO3. I just started trying to remember to on my multichap fic just to show I appreciate the comments but I usually see the email notification and then get sidetracked and forget aha

I’m also terrible with leaving comments but tbf I followed some writers’ twitters back in the day and saw them talking smack about reviews I had left (which were nice reviews, I just was like “oh this song reminds me of (x) I’m so glad to see it in a fic” like nothing mean) and then I was like oh people don’t like when you say more than “good job” and I got like frightened of leaving reviews after, which is stupid because I love getting them so I know that writers enjoy them, but that moment really stuck with me

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

mmmm I wrote a fic once where I killed Henry (OUAT), and then I’ve definitely written some post-Jenny death for NCIS/Jibbs fics so probably one of those

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

any of the others I thrive on happy endings tbh I love throwing out happy endings everywhere I go

Do you write crossovers? If yes, what’s the craziest thing you’ve written?

god I wrote one way back in my like 13-year-old days that was technically a crossover for Stargate SG-1 and Atlantis (even tho they take place in the same universe anyway) that was just pure crack and was an excuse for me to pretend the characters had the same mentality as my 13-year-old self

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

oh yeah, I think the first review I ever got on a fanfic was hate. happy to say that I continued on anyway and kept writing at least! 

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

sure do write some smutty smut - uhhhh most any kind I suppose? I’ll write them regardless of gender(s), and always fully consensual, nothing ever too crazy I would say, just because I still am not sure of my own writing skills with it but maybe one day Hayffie will drive me there

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I have known... 

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a couple of them actually, with full permissions/credit

Have you ever co-written a fic?

I suppose I’ve bounced ideas off of friends in the past but I don’t think I’ve ever gone full in with co-writing. 

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

ugh just one?? Despite having not written many fics for them, I think I will always find my way back to Daniel/Janet (Stargate SG-1). They really got me into reading fic in the first place and they were probably the first OTP to really rip my heart apart (:

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have a long “100 ways to love you” fic for SQ/OUAT that I was writing in college and I felt so good about it and I have it all planned and it’s over halfway done, but I don’t know if I have the strength to enter back into the fandom ehe

What’s your writing strengths?

planning out modern AUs, I love them so much, I love any AU, could go crazy for them

What’s your writing weaknesses?

I sometimes make things too dialogue-heavy, and then I get concerned I’m repeating a lot of phrases (recently it’s been if I’m having certain actions be repeated too much like “sighed”) 

I’m not a big fan of writing action/fighting scenes, but I go overboard with researching to make sure I’m writing them out the right way 

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

I think it’s awesome to see characters speaking other languages because speaking multiple languages in general is awesome to me (especially since I grew up in the good ol’ USA and they taught us nothing growing up until I took French as an elective in high school and Spanish in college). I will always use google translate to get the vibe of what is being said, but I know it doesn’t always work correctly, either, so I know I try my best to get it correct before putting any other language in my fic

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Stargate SG-1 at a whopping 12 years old probably (if not earlier)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

You know I’m really proud of the Stargate/THG AU through the circle (fast and slow), like it’s not a combination of fandoms that most people would like fully understand I suppose, but it was so fun to write and I just had a blast going through it and thinking of different scenarios that echoed what happened in Stargate. I actually wrote a long post about it at one point but it was also one of the first times just feeling really good in general while writing and not feeling like i was writing for others only, but also for myself

and I’m going to tag: @kananjarrus-jediknight @strangesmallbard​ @roxannweasley and whoever wants to do it :)

Had nothing to do so decided to clean my email inbox, realized I haven’t been opening my ao3 emails these days. I think it’s because I haven’t been writing new stuff, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t people finding my old stuff every day. Like really, that coupled with my way of titling fics makes me have to check to figure out which fic I got kudos on pretty often, there’s stuff I literally forgot I wrote.

Anyway scrolling down I saw that I have a bunch of unread emails with replies to comments I left. You see, comments and replies make me really anxious (which is why I don’t reply to the comments I receive, I do read those but I just can’t I am so sorry, I promise I treasure every single one) so I just started pretending those emails didn’t exist and never read them. There’s a bunch from subscorp week. 😅

But I’m happy I have all of these kudos emails unread bc this last month or so has been rough and nothing beats the joy of seeing that people appreciate what I create. If someone praises my looks (lol) or personality or whatever it makes me happy ofc but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of someone praising my writing, even without words.

fic tag meme

I guess I was kind of inadvertently tagged by @wildehacked because they said to do it if you wanted to, and well, I was bored and needed something to do while watching Watcher Weekly+ so!

Name: Heather! Otherwise known as callunavulgari on all platforms. Except fanfiction.net. I have not gone back there to even consider changing it.

Fandoms: I am currently only actively writing fic for Buzzfeed Unsolved and The Adventure Zone (because I have no self control and finished the finale today). That said, I’m pretty actively involved in The Untamed, Buzzfeed Unsolved, The Magnus Archives, Hades, and Persona 5. But I also delve back into old fandoms constantly, so it’s really hard to say. Tropes: Enemies to lovers is my absolute favorite trope in the entire world. In fact, I think the only thing I like MORE than your garden variety enemies to lovers is FRIENDS to enemies to lovers. Because like, you’ve got the UST but you’ve also got ANGST and YEARNING. I’m just weak to it. 

I also really like fusion AUs, soulmate AUs, and canon-adjacent AUs where everything is the same except one or both parties is some kind of monster. Creature? I love myself a creature feature. Bonus points if it’s got political intrigue and killer world building. I’m sure there are others, but eh.

Fic I spent most time on: Probably either Rubatosis or when the wild grasses weave. 

Rubatosis was a Percy Jackson fic where Percy and Annabeth fall in love with Nico, aka the personification of death. Also, Annabeth is a serial killer. It is single-handedly my favorite thing I’ve ever written and I wrote it in a handful of months for the 2014 PJO Big Bang.

where the wild grasses weave, on the other hand, was a Spirited Away/Kingdom Hearts fic that I wrote for the Kingdom Hearts Big Bang like half a decade ago. It was an idea that I’d been toying with for awhile and the Big Bang gave me an excuse to finally do it. It explores the darker themes of Spirited Away and honestly, I’ve been meaning to go back and tinker with it for awhile because there are definitely parts that could be shaped up better.

Fic I spent least time on: Probably all the really short prompt fics that I’ve posted between now and 2010.

Longest fic: Also when the wild grasses weave, which is almost 43k. And if you know me, that’s a full 30k longer than the usual things I go for.

Shortest fic: nowhere to run is an Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier fanfiction that I wrote about a year after First Class came out in 2012. It is FORTY words and was written for a tumblr three-sentence meme. It was definitely only three sentences, but somehow managed to get 25 kudos and 5 comments anyway.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks: Top kudos/bookmarks/hits: i don't believe in fairy tales (but i believe in you and me), which was written on September 5th 2014 and is just over 3k of Derek accidentally getting a glimpse of Stiles’ penis. On his phone. It is the dick pic fic and it has 5239 kudos, 712 bookmarks, and 81,838 hits. I feel like the fact that this is my most popular fic should be upsetting since it took me like an hour to write. Top comments: Que Sera, Sera, which was written on June 14th 2014 and is almost 4k. It’s the second part of my Teen Wolf/Addams Family fusion and has 146 comments (most of which are people and not me, because I don’t typically respond to comments, which is a horrible failing on my part).  Favorite fic you’ve written: I actually have an Author's Favorites list on ao3, which needs pared down horribly because it’s got a bunch of really old fic that has not aged particularly well. Rubatosis is probably my favorite? Again, it’s definitely the one I’m proudest of.  wake up in a city that never sleeps was another PJO ot3 fic that I wrote where Percy is Nico’s TA and is also pretty up there. I do genuinely love the Teen Wolf/Addams fusion.  take me to church is one of my favorite Teen Wolf fics, mostly because it’s the soft epilogue that I wanted out of the show.

and i'm always tired, but never of you is a Bright Sessions ot3 fic where Sam and Mark cross paths with Damien years later and I’m really attached to that one. I don’t know. I go back and read these things sometimes and I remember that my writing isn’t like pulling nails all the time. That sometimes it’s really very good.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: A couple of the older Big Bang fics I would love to go back and rewrite just because when rereading I can tell where I was running out of time or where something should have been cut but wasn’t so I could pad the wordcount. I do eventually want to write at least one more part of the Teen Wolf/Addams series. And I kind of want to write a coda for that Bright Sessions ot3 that I mentioned.

Share a bit of a WIP:

Part of the Buzzfeed Unsolved tattoo AU that I’ve been working on since uh, Christmas. Whoops.

He’s getting ready to text the guy back to let him know that he’ll have to book another appointment when the bell sounds from the front of the door and someone spills through the doorway.

And look, Ryan had gone into this appointment with expectations. Four weeks ago, when the guy had first emailed inquiring about booking an appointment, Ryan had asked him what exactly he was looking for. He’d asked the usual questions, all pretty standard. Style, colors, if he had a preference when it came to the artist, if he had a hard limit on price. 

An hour later, Ryan found himself typing the sentence, ‘so when you say puppet…’ 

Ryan doesn’t really know what he’d expected. He’d done a couple marionettes. Faceless pinnochios. Skeletons dangling from razor wire. A character from Coraline. It was very ain’t no strings on me, complete with shadowy hands puppeting the faceless silhouettes. Creepy, but you know. Kind of cool. 

Precisely ten minutes after he hit send, the guy had ruined all of his expectations by typing back, ‘No, man. Like a muppet.’

He’d even included an attachment. So naturally, Ryan clicked on it.

The creature that looked back at him was monstrous, like a cross between Elmo and the Cookie Monster, its empty eyes dead and staring. It was wearing an outfit that made Ryan think of Indiana Jones, complete with a tiny hat and a miniature fanny pack. On anything else, the little outfit might be cute. 

As Ryan was pondering how to politely pass the job off to Mari, another email came through. This one, thankfully, did not include another attachment. The body of the email was blank. The subject line read simply: ‘He’s called The Professor.’

Hi, I'm a fellow writer in the fandom and I admire your work. I wanted to ask, as a popular writer, do you get fixated sometimes on the number of kudos/comments/hits etc that your new work gets, and does this impact your motivation/inspiration? I think comparison is the thief of joy, and I really want to get over this feeling when I post my own work, so was wondering if even popular and regular writers such as yourself feel like this to, and if , what's your secret? Thanks!

Hi! 1) You are so sweet, ahh, and 2) YES, I DO. Gosh, yes, I absolutely do get insecure about those kinds of things, and I think that anyone who says they don't ever feel that way is either lying (to themselves, possibly) or maybe just pure magic, like some cross between a writer and a unicorn.

I love ao3 and I love all of its metrics and I love numbers and statistics, but there’s definitely that shadow side where having all of that easily available makes it deceptively easy to compare your own work to other people’s. I do it all the time! It honestly makes it a little hard for me at times to read h50 fic and fully enjoy it, because I keep... looking at it and wondering how my own stacks up against it, unwillingly. That's not a relaxing experience, and sometimes not even a very fun one. (Another part of it is that I just write SO MUCH for h50 and there is SO MUCH I still want to write, and I don’t want to risk reading something that’s very close to an idea I had and then never being quite sure if what I write after that was influenced by the other person’s work or if it’s really still my idea, because I have this (pretty irrational) fear of accidentally stealing someone else’s work even though one of the really great things about fandom is that it’s a very collaborative process as a whole and being inspired by other people’s stuff is usually totally okay, buuuut that’s a different rambly story.)

And I definitely do also get... some cringey feelings, hardcore, around fics I posted that don't do very well numbers-wise. Sometimes it's expected - fic that doesn't follow traditional formats or doesn't feature Steve/Danny, for example, is always something where I KNOW it won't get as much attention because I know how fandom works and that lessens the sting because it doesn't HAVE to hold up to those other fics that perform way better, because I already know it's not really comparable. The truth is, of course, that most fic is not really comparable to other fic, but it’s easy to fall into that trap anyway. If I post something that seems like my average kind of work and it gets less kudos or comments than usual, I do start to doubt the fic and second-guess myself - is something about this weird? Is it too [insert quality x]? Is it bad? Did I unknowingly do something terrible and people are now avoiding me? The answer to all of those is probably no, and going through it a bunch of times has definitely helped, because what usually happens is that I end up somewhat avoiding the fic in question because it makes me a little ashamed and awkward to think about it (a relative failure! oh no! I'm human!) and then, eventually, I return and reread the fic. By that point I have enough distance from it in time that I can look at it a lot more objectively, and it's way easier to see what works and what does not than when I posted it and I had just read it a dozen times in twenty-four hours and the words were burned into my brain. And upon that reread, inevitably, I realize that, holy shit, it was NOT AS BAD as I had made it out to be in my mind! It’s actually kind of fun! Imagine the ego boost of realizing your most cringy recent work is actually pretty okay, haha, and it's silly, but it's a revelation every time. The quality of a fic is not dictated by how many people read it or comment on it or like it, and intellectually I absolutely know that, but it’s hard to remember when it’s about yourself and you’re still in that emotionally vulnerable place of having just shared your work with the world and it feels like the world is not as into it as you thought (or hoped) it’d be. It’s honestly very, very reassuring to have those experiences to fall back on, but sadly the only way I know to get there is to just tough it out and feel super awkward for a while.

When I’m writing, on the other hand, I usually don’t really think about what other people might think of it. I have the advantage that (pretty much) all of my work consists of fairly short stand alone stories, which means I don’t have to struggle with keeping my motivation up for a second chapter of something but I get to start fresh every time, and that’s nice, because I can just lose myself in the joy of throwing words around and making characters do things that make me giggle. That’s not to say I never think of the outside world while writing - I realized, pretty recently, that I occasionally end up constructing paragraphs or pieces of dialogue a certain way mostly so it will make for a good excerpt to put in the eventual fic description, which might give me a sense of accomplishment because it’s nice when things work out and look good, but in all fairness it’s probably far more motivated by attempts to package the finished work attractively so other people will want to click on it than by anything else. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. I don’t think so - I don’t feel like it lessens my work and it doesn’t interrupt my enjoyment of it in the moment, which are the key elements for me - but other people might disagree.

But the heart of thing is, just, there are SO MANY factors that influence a fic’s numbers, and not all of them are visible (I’d argue most of them aren’t, in fact), and it always helps me to keep that in mind. It puts things in perspective somewhat and softens the harshness of a black and white kudo count judgment. Numbers can depend on when you post a fic (what day of the week, time of the year, time relative to big fandom moments, whether you’re in the middle of a global pandemic or not), how you pick your title, what you put in the description, how you use the tags, what genres or tropes are popular in your specific fandom, the genre of your fic in general (pwp as a rule tends to get lots of hits and few kudos or comments, for example, making it totally unfair to compare it to G-reated fluff fic with super different ratios), how much you’ve posted before (because if someone likes one of your works, they’re often likely to check if you have more in the same fandom), how many fics other people post around the same time (because yours might be gone from the first page of most recently updated works in a fandom or ship tag very quickly if others push it out), how big your fandom is(!!!) (over two thirds of my works on ao3 are for h50, but h50 only makes it into the top 10 of my most kudo’d works by the skin of its teeth) and definitely also what your fandom’s culture is like (compared to a lot of other fandoms, h50 fans are a-ma-zing when it comes to leaving comments, my gosh, and as a writer I adore all of you), how old your ao3 account is (the longer you’ve been around, the more likely a higher number of people is subscribed to you as an author or has read your previous work or has encountered your name, etc), how long your fic is (under a thousand words in my experience generally does less well than 1-5k, but longer fics might end up with lots of chapters which switches things up because people come back to it when there’s an update, and even if a long work is all in one chapter it will probably stand out for the wordcount and might attract attention that way, etc), whether or not your fic is part of a series (in my experience it will probably get more hits because it’s a chain of fics that leads you to the next one, but the kudos might not go up at the same rate because people might forget a kudo or reread previous works when a new one is added), whether you make a habit of commenting on other people’s fic (I’ve had comments saying MY comment on their work led them to my fic!), if you have social media like Tumblr or Twitter where you can promote your work (it’s advertising, basically), and any of a bunch of random little other factors. Sometimes, I see a sudden little cluster of kudos on an old fic in the daily ao3 kudos email, and I assume someone somewhere maybe recced that fic, but it usually remains a total mystery who or where or even if it happened at all and wasn’t just a weird coincidence to begin with. Sometimes the thing a fic’s popularity depends on is really just whether it clicks with people at that point in time, whatever that means, which is an even more impossible thing to grasp or predict than anything else.

Or you can look at things from a totally different angle and not try to make yourself care less about numbers, but just accept that you do because you’re human and we all crave validation, and instead try to roll with that. A brain hack: when I do start getting down about numbers, it also helps me to focus on one work and just... try to visualise what those kudo (or hit or bookmark or comment) counts mean, if you were to translate them to the real world. While it can be super helpful to remember that there’s a LOT going on that you can’t see and that’s virtually impossible to really explain, it’s also nice to somewhat do the opposite and try to make things as concrete as possible instead. I like measuring in school classes (~25-30 heads, I’d say) and “my fic only has fifty kudos but this other person’s has ten times as many” could easily make anyone sad and demotivated, but “my fic has fifty kudos and that’s TWO WHOLE CLASSROOMS packed full of people that all read my work and liked it so much they wanted to give me a little thumbs up for it” is actually pretty cool and encouraging, I think. Or you could measure in sports teams (I don’t know sports, but soccer has 11 players on the field per team, so as soon as your fic has 33 kudos that’s three teams which means you’ve got yourself a little beginning league! how exciting!) or in DnD campaigns (variable of course, but most of mine have had around four players plus a DM, so if you have twenty kudos? that’s FOUR WHOLE DnD campaigns that enjoyed reading your fic, and it’s fully up to you how many half-orcs that includes). You could apply this method using literally any other measurement that works for you, too. If you have a hard time painting a mental image of numbers, you could even open up a Paint doc or get a piece of paper and start counting out little dots or copy-pasted images of a person, or get a big bag of physically present M&Ms and count them out, or take a good look at your dog and then go around the neighborhood and collect forty-nine more dogs and pile them all into your home and be slightly frightened by the utter delighted fluffy chaos that ensues in your living room. That’s how many people liked your fic! That’s a heck of a lot of wagging tails! Who knew a kudo could bark this loudly!

Disclaimer: maybe keep the dog thing as your very last resort, because your neighbors might not be super into their pet getting dognapped for the purpose of visualizing fanfiction stats. The point is really just to remember that there’s an actual person behind every kudo you get, no matter what the cumulative number is, and even if you have seven or five or three kudos, that’s seven or five or three very real people that hit that button. That’s pretty damn awesome. Also keep in mind how you feel if you read a fic, and take some time to realize that every single person that left you a kudo went through that same process of spending time reading words (the words you wrote!) and experiencing that story and THAT’S why they left that kudo. It’s a real person’s real investment.

This ended up very long and rambly, so tl;dr: You are in no way alone in feeling that way, it's okay and normal and so very very human to feel like that, but you still shouldn't let it get you down, because numbers fake being meaningful very well but are deep down just little squiggles on your screen and they’re more scared of you than you are of them, while at the same time there are real individuals that enjoy your work even if you usually never see them. Your fic is worth posting. That’s the one factor in all of this that’s a constant, not a variable.

(And as a very important sidenote, just be kind to yourself, always. Does it truly stress you out? Are you feeling really bad about it today? Does it make your anxiety spike? Then give yourself room to take a little step back and allow yourself some time away from it. Go watch something you enjoy, or read something nice, or do something else that makes you feel good. Fic is something that should add to your life, not subtract from it. You don’t owe anyone anything, not even yourself in this context, and I used to push myself occasionally to get something finished TODAY, and eventually I started realizing, well, why? Why not instead of reading it over again just get some sleep or watch an episode of something I want to watch, especially if I literally just finished the fic and I feel a little unsure about it and it might actually be beneficial to me and my own feelings about it if I just give it a day or even a week and let it rest and then look at it again and THEN post it, if I want to, whether that’s with some changes beforehand or not? Who set me that deadline that’s apparently looming over me? I did, and it’s fake, and it’s there for absolutely no good reason. Breathe. Put yourself first. Be really really really selfish about your own fic writing experience, even, because it’s supposed to be something you enjoy (that’s what a hobby is!), and the rest is secondary.)

list your five longest one-shot fics on AO3 (not chaptered works or series) with the word count, fandom, year, and comments/kudos/bookmarks. one-shots are the short stories to fandom’s books and a distinctly different process in my experience.

tagged by @nire-the-mithridatist

Caveat: Almost all of these works were originally posted elsewhere, so the stats don’t reflect the total hits or comments that they’ve received - just the ones since they’ve been on AO3.

Note: Almost all of these stories are at least nine years old, and there’s a reason for that. For quite a while there, a lot of people in the fannish circles I was involved in were REALLY anti-WIP. They would not read WIPs. At all. So I got into the habit of writing a story and then posting it in one go. Since about 2011 I’ve been involved in fandoms where WIPs were a much more accepted thing, so my one-shots have been a lot shorter than they used to be.

Home | Words: 21,611 | Stargate Atlantis | 2010 |  Comments: 28 | Kudos: 120 | Bookmarks: 35 A day can be a long time in a relationship - if it's the right day.

Set on Earth, post-series. John and Rodney are living in a house in the woods together and have fallen into a relationship. Then one day John comes home to find Sam Carter waiting at the front door.

This was the final SGA story I wrote, and I think it might just be the best. I got closer to nailing John Sheppard in this than in anything else I wrote for him, anyway. He will always feel elusive, and that’s probably part of why I’ll never love any character more than I loved him.

Enlightenment | Words: 19,836 | Stargate Atlantis | 2006 |  Comments: 4 | Kudos: 93 | Bookmarks: 10 "Three representatives from Atlantis and three only for this negotiation, those had been the Rengarians' terms." On what should have been a routine mission, Elizabeth is reminded that people are unpredictable and things are not always what they seem.

Ah, Elizabeth POV! I love bystander POV, and this was one of the more complicated bystander stories I’ve written. The title is sort of ironic, and sort of not.

The Spaces in Between | Words: 17,280 | Stargate Atlantis | 2007 |  Comments: 2 | Kudos: 97 | Bookmarks: 21  

"You really do look younger than you did before, you know," Rodney says.

John laughs, or snorts or something. Whatever you call it, it's some sort of noise that doesn't have a whole lot of humour in it. "I suppose you could say that the Wraith made me feel younger, too. In a manner of speaking."

This was an episode tag for 'Common Ground'. It won’t make a whole heap of sense unless you’ve seen that episode. It’s the episode where John gets captured by the Genii and aged into an old man after being drained by the captive wraith (who later becomes his ‘friend’, Todd). 

It’s probably still a bit confusing to read, particularly without having the episode fresh in mind, so I’ll just say that in the first part the short bits in italics are what’s actually happening - the wraith draining John of his life force - and each scene in between is a flashback, going further back in time each time as John loses more of his life.

Yes, it’s a very cheery story! Or the first part is, anyway. The second part is set after his rescue, and makes up for all the angst in the first part - I hope! Ultimately, it’s a story about coming to terms with a lot of things, including sexuality, but not only that.

Her Rightful Place | Words: 15,498 | The Devil Wears Prada | 2008 |  Comments: 18 | Kudos: 174 | Bookmarks: 31    Emily discovers that it's best to be careful what you wish for because you might just get it. 

This is my one and only Devil Wears Prada story, which I wrote for Yuletide 2008. It’s Emily POV, because that’s what the recipient asked for, and I had an absolute blast writing her. She’s a wonderfully deluded and vain character, but I couldn’t help feeling for her, too. This is another bystander POV story, though Emily doesn’t realise she’s a bystander until very near the end.

Fun fact: my main activity in DWP fandom was to beta for @telanu. Telanu’s other DWP beta reader was The Last Good Name. So imagine my surprise when I got my assignment for Yuletide and discovered that my recipient was The Last Good Name. Then things got even weirder when The Last Good Name emailed me - because she’d been assigned Telanu as her recipient in the DWP holiday fic exchange and wanted to check with me about story elements that Telanu would like.

I was the keeper of the secrets that year! There was a lot of laughing that I couldn’t share, and then more shared laughing when reveals finally happened.

Full Disclosure | Words: 12,496 | James Bond | 2013 |  Comments: 19 | Kudos: 48 | Bookmarks: 6   Fifty years later, M's eldest granddaughter visits Q to discuss his recently-published memoirs. 

Note: This story is a follow-up to Telanu's excellent Sharing the Road series. It won't make a lot of sense unless you read that first.

This is an odd story for me. It’s the only time I’ve ever written in another fanwriter’s sandbox. The main character in this story is one of Telanu’s OCs, (Judi Dench) M’s granddaughter, Sophie. 

All I can really say about it is: read Telanu’s Bond/M Sharing the Road series, and after that if for some reason you still need more, maybe try this.

tagging: @firesign23 @woodelf68 and anyone else who wants to play!

Dream a Little Dream of Me

My first BTS fic ever! Cross-posted on AO3

(I promise there’s a read-more link, sorry if it doesnt show up on mobile)

Pairing: Kim Namjoon X Reader

Genre: Drama, Angst, Fluff

Tags: Idol!RM Student Teacher!Reader. Soulmate AU, meeting in dreams. There’s a decent amount of cursing in this, just a heads up.

Summary:  There are old wives tales about dreams and what they can mean. There are also stories of dreams that you can share with your soulmate, dreams where even if you're not together, you can still comfort each other when you need it most.

What happens if your soulmate is not only on the other side of the planet? But they're also international icons?

Chapter: 1  2

Ao3 Link

Please be sure to like it here on Tumblr or give me some Kudos on Ao3! 

Also: my inbox is always open, any and all constructive criticism is welcome as well as questions/regular comments on the fic! Enjoy!

There were a lot of old wives tales about dreams, from the idea that a dream about your teeth falling out meant an unexpected rainfall of money, to the idea that dreams are visions of your past life. But there are also tales of dreams that feel so real that when you wake up, you feel empty inside. Dreams that felt so real that you could feel the warmth of the other person’s body long after they were gone. People would say all kinds of things, from writing them off as sex dreams or even going so far as to say it was a ghost. And in a way it was true, but according to others, these particular dreams were a snap of connection between soulmates. That they would connect when they needed each other the most. But like everything, this could be flawed; even if by some miracle that a pair would be alive at the same time, a pair of soulmates could be on opposite sides of the world where their sleeping patterns would never cross, each having to live out this life without their other half. In cases like these, they’d have to wait to meet in a different timeline where fate and the universe would be kinder. Fluff pieces would be written in newspapers, smattered between the stories of politics and murder to make people feel better. The pair would talk about how their dreams connected for months before finally meeting in person and falling in love. Most readers wouldn’t read too much into it, and no one really believed in soulmates.

~~*~~

It was a reoccurring dream that always left me feeling empty inside once I woke up. It was a simple thing, more a feeling than a dream, but the weight of having someone’s arms around my waist, their face pressed against my own, their breath tickling my neck, a feeling of having someone there when they weren’t, it’s a hard feeling to shake when it felt so real.

My eyes fluttered awake as the last remnants of my dream were swept away by the harsh light of the afternoon sun, groaning I slowly propped myself up, checking my watch. The LED screen read 5:24 pm, my impromptu nap had only been little over an hour, work was more stressful than usual. I stretched my arms above my head and heaving another heavy sigh, I flopped back onto my pillows,  please let me continue that dream I prayed silently closing my eyes...After a minute or two after just laying with my eyes closed, I let out a huff, whatever hold on that sleep had on me was gone and now there was no chance of falling back into the dream. The dream that always felt so so real.

It happened every once in a while, the connection, but it always happened at random times, which basically told me that if soulmates were a thing, then my soulmate lived on the other side of the planet, or at the very least, had an odd sleep schedule. After every dream, I felt more refreshed and energized than before (though that could have been an after-effect of the nap itself).

If I was being honest with other people, I don’t think soulmates existed, it seems too improbable, too impossible that there was someone out there in the world who is my perfect match, who was my partner for life, romantic or otherwise.

But then again...the hopeless romantic in me firmly believed in it, believed that I had made the connection, if only for a split second. There were so many afternoon naps that I woke up from with the feeling of arms around my waist and a nose nuzzled in my hair. These feelings/dreams would only happen when I was super exhausted or emotionally drained, either because of how work/school went or because my depression came in a wave that crashed over me, making it hard to even see straight. It was especially on those days that I needed the comfort that came with the connection dreams.

I’ve basically resigned myself to the fact that the connection dreams will never happen when I need them to, that I’ll never be asleep at the same time as my soulmate (for longer than 20 minutes anyway), and that I’d never meet my soulmate. Until finally, it happens and the phantom feeling of arms around me develops into something more.

Until one night it happens.

I was struggling to open my apartment door, I had so much shit in my hands and I was so fucking tired from the shit-show of a day. As soon as I finally got in, I kicked off my heels, practically falling over myself. I threw down my lunch bag, backpack, purse, basically everything. I pulled out my phone from my pocket and as I fumbled to check my emails, it fell. And that was it. I stared at my phone on the floor and all of a sudden tears started welling up in my eyes. I started breathing heavier and faster and I just let myself fall to the floor, sobs wracking my body. I have no idea how long I stayed on the floor for, or why I was really in the middle of a breakdown. Yeah, work had been shit, the students I had were even worse than usual, but it wasn’t so different than any other day. But then again I was just so tired, I hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately, or come to think of it water or food. Financial struggles were such a burden and apparently, after months of the anxiety and depression bubbling up it finally spilled over.

Heaving a sigh, I dragged myself off the floor and stumbled to my room, too exhausted in all aspects to do anything other than just flop onto my bed. I rolled over and grabbed the stuffed sea otter plush I got at the aquarium, hoping it would help me feel better, closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

As soon as I fall asleep, I feel that familiar weight settle over the curve of my waist. I sigh and push myself back a bit into their warmth. Thank god you’re here, please don’t leave anytime soon I say. I don’t expect any response, why would I? It’s been months of on and off connection dreams and usually, I can feel them for, at most, 20 minutes and even then the time flies and I never say anything. I don’t know why I said anything to begin with anyway. But as soon as the words leave my mouth, whoever is holding me, they stiffen, and then a pit settles in my stomach as I realize,  oh shit, they can hear me.

Is this actually happening? Comes a voice from behind, soft but husky, it almost makes me shiver, the feeling of their breath against the nape of my neck, are we actually dreaming together right now? Oh god, how I want to turn around, to see them, but I’m terrified. Not of them, but I’m so afraid any sort of movement will wake me up, or worse, that I'll turn around and it’ll be a normal dream. Not a connection dream, and goodness knows I couldn’t handle anything like that right now with my state of mind. And so...I just stay quiet. After all, there’s no actual rulebook on how this sort of thing works. Relishing in their warmth in their presence, after all, I’m half-expecting one of us to wake up at any point and all I want to do is feel comforted. They sighed, I guess you’re not really here and I am dreaming. Or maybe I need you more than you need me, but whatever the reason, I’m glad I finally get to hold you for just a bit longer. His voice is soft but almost sad, tinged with such a longing that sends a pang through my heart.

Alright, so it’s definitely not a regular dream, if it was a regular dream, something wild would have happened by now, and I don’t think I would be able to dream up such a wonderful voice. But I still can’t bring myself to turn around just yet, so I just let out a soft breath, and he pulls me closer and nuzzles his nose into the back of my neck.

When I wake up the next morning, I honestly don’t remember anything other than a soft white light, the feeling of warmth and a soft voice.

The next time it happens is a few days later, and I still don’t say anything, the fear of waking up rendering me basically incapable of doing anything other than burrowing further into their warmth.

This time though, he doesn’t just stay quiet, he starts to talk to me, I wonder if you can hear me, if you’re ignoring me, or if you’re as scared as I am? He laughs a bit, maybe if you knew who I was you would be scared, but I hope not. He keeps talking, mostly nonsense but when I wake up the next morning, I remember more of it, the “image” of the dream becoming sharper.

And so it goes on for a while, each night learning more about him when he talks. He’s always pensive, always wondering out loud what I’m like, what I’m thinking about.

Because it keeps happening, now he knows that I am there but he’s understanding of my silence.

One night he brings up the idea that they aren’t actually speaking the same language (or is it thinking? Since it’s happening in our heads). Even though I hear him in my own native language, he apparently is thinking/talking to me in another language, I wonder if you don’t talk to me because you don’t understand Korean, or maybe you do?

Each night I learn more and more, it feels almost unfair that he’s telling me all this and that I’m too much of a coward to say anything. I learn he likes music and when he runs out of things to talk about, he starts singing softly or rapping depending on his mood. He’s good at both, but I prefer his singing voice, may not be the best, but that makes me feel better. Makes him more human to me. The nights after he sings to me, I always try to remember the melody, it’s familiar, but then as the day goes on I forget more and more of it.

I learn that he has a big family, always telling me stories about his big brothers and little brothers, all the silly antics they get into.

I also find out that he’s here for a short time. Here being the area/zone/whatever that lets them connect basically every night. Now, our dreams connect I’m actually sleeping,  not napping like the first few times.

With each night and each dream, I start to communicate more. I’m still paranoid that it’s a regular dream and that I’ll wake up (the logical side of me thinks all this is just a wine-induced dream) so I still don't respond verbally to him, but I do nod or shake her head. I always adjust myself to be more comfortable in his arms.

With each dream comes more vivid memories the next morning, where before, when it all first started, I would remember nothing, just a comforting presence, now she can see more of him as well.

Each morning, the first thing I do is scour the internet looking for more information on soulmates, dreams, connections, and each time I find the same thing, “reports inconclusive”.

Two months after we start connecting more frequently, things change.

I’m leaving soon, we had just been lying together in the white space that is our shared dream space.

As soon as I hear this, my brain kicked into overdrive and the worst possible things flew past my mind. I guess when I was imagining the worst case scenario (which at the moment was that he was in a coma or something and that they were gonna pull the plug and I’d have to live my life alone) I tensed up or froze. I could feel him laugh, I humphed and he pulled me closer, rubbing circles with his thumb against my side,   I’m okay, I’m perfectly healthy, but I am leaving this area. I relax a tiny bit, but before I let myself relax completely, I wait for him to go on, I’m going back to Korea, which means we won’t be able to connect as often his voice becomes serious and sad. I don’t even know where you are, for all I know we could be across the country from each other right now, or even in the same city. His voice falls silent and I reach for the hand that is rubbing circles on my waist and interlace my fingers through his.

I don’t know how long we stay like that, silent, but I know it’s now or never. Finally, I talk to him, I’m going to miss this. I have to resist the urge to laugh because I can almost the surprise radiating off him, I’m sorry I haven’t said anything until now, I say rushing through my words so I can explain, I was afraid this wasn’t real, that this was just a regular dream, but then when I knew that it wasn’t a regular dream...I didn’t know when to start, I liked hearing your stories, hearing you sing. I let out a bitter laugh, that and I’m an awkward coward who didn’t know when the right time to talk was.

His body behind her relaxes as he snorts, I think you may be one of the few who like when I sing, people usually praise me for my rapping.

I huff, I love your voice … Oh fuck. I freeze, I don’t know where we are and I have to go and say that stupid four-letter word??? Fuck!

As I’m in the middle of my freak out I can feel his smile on the back of my neck and he pulls me a little closer, well if old wives tales are to be believed we are soulmates, of course you’re gonna love my voice, he teases and he tightens his hold on my waist.

We stay like that for a bit longer, a small pit of dread sitting in our stomachs as we hold onto each other, not knowing if I would wake up soon or if he would, if our dream would end soon.

What do you see when you look at me? He asks suddenly, breaking the silence, well, when you see my arm anyway he says pulling his hand away from mine and waving it around.

I snort at the silly motion, All I see is fuzzy white all around, the only thing that’s clear is you I answer, reaching out and lacing my fingers between his again, what do you see?

The same thing, he says, I see your hair, your arms and shoulders, he falters a bit, If this is the last time we connect, I want to see your face.

My brain short-circuits as he continues hurriedly, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.

I don’t say anything, I just slowly unlace our fingers, before I can say anything I can feel him starting to pull away, but before he can let the distance get any bigger I quickly grab his arm, close your eyes, I say.

He nods and swallows hard. I can’t read his mind, but I can tell he’s almost too unsure of his own voice.

He squeezes my hand and I know he has his eyes closed. I take a deep breath and close my eyes too. I shift in the space to face him, my hands finding a place on his chest. I freeze for a split second, his chest a lot more broad than I was expecting. I shake my head a teeny bit and take another deep breath.

One, I start

Two, he continues

Three, we whisper together opening our eyes, for the first time seeing each other fully.

Holy shit, I don't know if I say it out loud or if I’m just thinking it (though in this case, what’s the difference?). The man in front of me, the one who I’ve had essentially been sleeping with for the better part of two months, was international star Kim Namjoon, RM of BTS.

In my state of shock, there’s a sudden snap and the dream connection is severed. I sit up quickly, back in my own lonely bed in my own lonely apartment. My hand comes up to clutch at my throat, chest heaving with rapid breaths. Shit shit shit okay, slow down, the last thing I need is to have a fucking panic attack I go through my usual routine of calming my panic attacks, but I’m in too much shock and I start to hyperventilate tears blurring everything around me, of-fucking-course the universe would not only give me a soulmate who lives halfway around the fucking world. But it had to top it off with them being a fucking International star, a fucking idol! Fuck! The more rational part of my brain was going through all the scenarios and it came up with the same conclusion over and over, if it all was real and not some elaborate dream, it wouldn’t matter anyway, it was well known that it was near impossible for idols to date anyone, let alone a fan.

Too afraid to fall back asleep, to reconnect in their dreams, I stay up the rest of the night, alternating between cursing the universe and all the gods and beings I can think of, and crying until I’m numb, aching to be held by him again. To letting myself imagine all the scenarios where, by some miracle, that we could find a life together, where we could be happy and have a family together.

~*~

Miles away, Namjoon was going through the same rollercoaster of emotions. As soon as he woke up, he basically hurled himself out of his hotel bed over to the desk and opening up his laptop. Logging into Twitter, he spent the rest of the night poring over every single account of every single person who had ever liked, commented, retweeted anything they had posted. Desperate to see a picture of her, see a glimpse of her. She recognized me right?? So she knows who I am, she could be a fan or something. That singular thought kept him going as he checked account after account, trying to push away the ugly thoughts, the thoughts that were almost angry that if she had just talked to him all those times they had connected, that he could have found her, that he could have seen her for more than a split second before their connection was cut off.

He stayed at that desk until dawn finally broke, until he finally had to close his laptop and load into a car that would take him to a plane that would take him far far away from his soulmate.

Friday Night Gurus - Chapter 5

Series: JJBA Ships: josuyasu, koichi/yukako (others will eventually happen too, but im tagging as i go) Tags: celebrity au, modern au, pining, recreational drug use (smoking that wacky tabaccy), meeting some of the fam, dirty talk, dicc succing, josuke and okuyasu go on a learning journey together Rating: E (YEAHHHH TIME FOR SOME SEXY STUFF)

AO3 link

LONG TIME, NO SEE. Sorry for taking 10000 years to update. I’ve got a 20 hour unpaid internship, 20 hour work week, and a full class load on top of it all. I’m slowly losing my mind! :’D But, I’ve been plugging along at this for awhile, and now it is bearing fruit, so I hope that you all will enjoy the new chapter. I can’t give a time frame of when I’ll have the next one up, as I absolutely have to update TMBTP and also finish a commission, but hopefully it will be sooner than later!

Also, fair warning, this chapter is where the fic earns it’s explicit rating :’) I hope the smut isn’t awfully written, and if it is, it’s due to me hooting like a 12 year old the entire time I wrote it.

A FEW THINGS OF NOTE:

- manxom has given me the good content, and helped me flesh out FNG so much, that i gave them co-author status! They’re real, and strong, and my friend, and has really helped me shape the AU!

- puffle-tuff who is a friend and boi drew Oku and Josuke watching RHoA together! FOLLOW THEIR ART BLOG, THEY’RE SO GOOD! 

- emberandcelica made a spotify playlist for FNG, and it’s really good! So go check it out when you get the chance! 

As always, remember to comment on the fic, kudos the fic, and bookmark the fic to see more of the same fic content.

The worst part of being a world-famous musician, in Josuke’s opinion, was the tedious amount of boring business shit you ended up sitting through. Contracts, scheduling interviews, planning photoshoots; it felt endless at times. Really, being in the business of being yourself could be so dreadful, and Josuke avoided as much as he could. He was a busy man, with a 3 week young relationship with an amazing guy and a load of other horseshit to take care of. The only way Koichi could get him to stay in one place long enough to go over everything was to corner him while they ate at a restaurant, which was exactly what was happening at that moment as they waited for their significant others to appear. “Morioh Records wants you to come by sometime in October to talk about your contract with the new CEO,” Koichi passed Josuke the email he printed out. Josuke made a face while reading it before sliding it back across the table. Morioh Records was his label, and while they had always been good to him, Josuke hadn’t heard anything great about the new guy in charge. He scowled, “I’m good through the next year, why does he wanna talk to me about it already?” Koichi shrugged, “He wants to get all of his ducks in a row, I guess.” “What’s his name again?” “Kira Yoshikage.” “Never heard of him,” Josuke sniffed. “He was some anonymous board member that somehow got appointed as CEO when the other guy retired.” Koichi pulled out another piece of paper, “Last thing, I swear,” he quickly added when Josuke rolled his eyes so hard, they looked like they were about to pop out of his head, “Calvin Klein called, they wanna do another underwear ad campaign with you.” Josuke perked up at that, “Really? Hell yeah, I’m down.” “Thought you would be. I’ll email them and say you’re up for it,” Koichi looked at his phone with a slight frown, “I figured Yukako and Okuyasu would be here by now. Wonder where they are…” As if summoned by magic, Okuyasu and Yukako blew into the private room they were in. Oku had a strange look on his face as he plopped down in the chair beside Josuke, “Keicho has a girlfriend he didn’t tell me about,” he said in lieu of a greeting. Yukako pressed a kiss on Koichi’s forehead before sitting in the chair beside him, “He doesn’t have a girlfriend.” Okuyasu pointed a finger at her, “They go on dates. And you should’ve told me.” “They aren’t official, and it’s none of my business,” she replied, inspecting her nails. Josuke furrowed his eyebrows, “Wait, what?” Instead of responding, Okuyasu fished his phone out of his pocket, and opened up a text message before handing it off to Josuke, “It’s easier to just read it.” Clearly, it was something that was bothering his boyfriend; Josuke turned his eyes to a group chat titled DICKHEAD. Okuyasu: yooooo who wants to get wings with me tonight????? Okuyasu: keicho u gotta come with Big Bro💣: No. Okuyasu: well y the fuck not??? Big Bro💣: I’m busy. Okuyasu: too busy for ur little brother??? breakin my heart over here ;)n(; ☠Fungi☠: oku what the fuck is that face Okuyasu: ITS ME!!! IM SAD!!!! Okuyasu: bro what r u doin thats more important than eatin food ☠Fungi☠: yeah keicho, way to be transparent with your bros Big Bro💣: It’s none of your concern. Go eat gross shit with your boyfriend and don’t annoy me with it. :| A bunch of text messages were Okuyasu and Yuuya needling Keicho, with him responding with various ways of saying ‘shut the fuck up’, until Yukako spoke. YuYu Kakosho👊💥: He’s probably seeing that girl I caught him with back in March. Okuyasu: WHAT ☠Fungi☠: oh shit Toilet Hazmat🚽☣: kek Okuyasu: U DIDNT TELL ME??? Big Bro💣: Goddamn you, Yukako. You said you wouldn’t say anything.  YuYu Kakosho👊💥: I’m tired of having my phone blow up. Get it out of your systems now. ☠Fungi☠: you got a girlfriend, keicho?? Someone strike up the band Okuyasu: Y DIDNT U TELL US Big Bro💣: 1) She’s not my girlfriend, and 2) You two screaming is exactly why I didn’t. The rest of the messages were just Yuuya sending suggestive emojis and Keicho threatening to inflict violence upon his person. “Sooo, he’s seeing someone?” Josuke asked. Okuyasu scowled, “Yeah, that blonde-haired fuck. He didn’t tell me.” He sunk down in his chair, face sullen, “Why would he hide that from me?” “Because Keicho never tells anyone anything about his personal life,” Yukako interjected, face neutral. “I’m his brother—” She raised an eyebrow, “I’ve only known you people for three years, and I can see why Keicho Nijimura keeps everything close to the chest.” Koichi had busied himself with his phone, “Don’t take it to heart, he most likely has his reasons.” “Still, we’re all the only family we got left. I don’t wanna hear about things in his life from other people.” Yukako sighed exasperatedly, “If it makes you feel better, the only reason I know this is because I happened to see him with her at that coffee shop.” “What were they doing? What does she look like?” Josuke leaned in. He didn’t care about Keicho or his love life, but he sure did love hot gossip. “Talking. He had his hand on her arm, she was blushing and giggling. Typical flirting.” Yukako took a sip of Koichi’s tea, “She’s not like any of the other girls I’ve ever seen him with; no tattoos or piercings. Has long, curly brown hair, blue eyes, petite. I’d put her at about 5'2 or 5'3. Very pretty."  "Damn girl, you really have an eye for that kind of thing,” Josuke said thoughtfully, “How did he find out you knew and how did he buy your silence.” “Took a picture of them together, sent it to him later that night. Got a promise that he’d do me favors in exchange for me not repeating what I saw.” Josuke whistled, “Cold-blooded.” Yukako merely shrugged, “That’s the nature of the beast.” Okuyasu sighed, but said nothing. Josuke frowned a little at him, “Since you don’t really have plans, do you wanna get pizza with me and some of my family tonight?” Oku waved a hand, “Don’t need ya to take pity on me.” At that, Josuke rolled his eyes, “I’m not, I want you to come out with us. You gotta meet them anyways.” “Hmm…who’s gonna be there?” “Polnareff, his boyfriend, my nephew, his husband, and their daughter. Pol’s sister may be there too.” “…Does this place have wings?” “All you can eat.” Okuyasu smacked his hand on the table, grin replacing his scowl, “I’m sold.” “Good shit, I’ll let them know,” Josuke brushed his hand over the one Oku smacked down onto the table, “You’ll like 'em, they’re good people.” “Josuke,” Koichi interrupted, “I emailed the Calvin Klein people. They’re going to get in touch with us to schedule the shoot.” “C-Calvin Klein?” Okuyasu stuttered. “Yeah, doing another underwear ad campaign for them.” “O-oh. That’s…good…” Okuyasu’s face was blood red.  Before Josuke could ask what was up, a waiter sprang up to take their orders. Questions for another time.

Meeting at Pineapple Larry’s Pizzeria for dinner, followed by a couple hours at the arcade was a tradition that dated back ten years. Originally it had just been Polnareff, his boyfriend, Josuke’s nephew, and his now husband, but then grew to include Pol’s little sister, Josuke’s niece, and Josuke himself.  When he and Okuyasu breezed in, Josuke was in the process of warning him that his nephew was taciturn, his niece would bully him into playing Street Fighter II, and that everyone was great, save for the fact that they liked to put pineapple on their pizza. Josuke couldn’t give anymore heads up when his 5 year old niece went flying into his boyfriend’s arms. “Oku!!!"  "Hey, it’s my favorite bunhead!” Okuyasu caught her in a hug, “How you been, Jolyne Cuisine?” “Good!” “Uh, what?” Josuke asked, perplexed.  Jolyne waved at her uncle, “Hi, uncle Josuke!” Okuyasu did a double take, “Uncle?” She looked between the two of them, “Uncle Josuke, do you know Oku too??” “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend–” Jolyne gasped and hugged Okuyasu harder, “Really?? Wowie, that’s awesome!” She grinned, her front left tooth missing, “Now I’m gonna have two cool uncles.” Josuke felt his face go crimson, and was only mildly relieved when he saw the same color mirrored on Oku’s face. A man with flaming red hair, cherry earrings, and tattoos strolled up to them, “Jo, don’t choke him.” “'Kay, daddy! I’m gonna tell pops that Oku’s here!!” She hopped down, and took off towards the back of the restaurant.  “Sorry, Okuyasu,” Noriaki Kujo smiled, “You know how she can get.” “S'fine, I uh, didn’t know you guys were related?” Noriaki laughed, “Yeah, Josuke’s technically my uncle.” “What the fuck, dude, why didn’t you tell me you knew Oku??” Josuke asked incredulously. “Where would the fun be in that?” Noriaki responded with a toss of his singular hair curl. Josuke learned as they walked to the table that Okuyasu had been patronizing Hierophant Green, Noriaki’s tattoo parlor, for a long time. “He did me and Keicho’s memorial tattoos for our mom,” Okuyasu explained as they followed Jolyne to the back. “Not to mention all those cover-ups,” Noriaki shook his head, “Whoever allowed you two to get those monstrosities should be hanged.” Jotaro, Jolyne, and Polnareff were already at the table; Jotaro was reading through a thick stack of papers, but threw up a hand in acknowledgement that he was aware of their presence. “Bonsoir,” Polnareff greeted them, “Mo is running late, but he’ll be here soon,” his face turned into a grimace, “And my precious little sister will not be joining us today, as she has a date with some man she has yet to introduce me to.” Noriaki took his place beside Jotaro, “Is it the same one she’s been seeing all this time?” “Yes!” Polnareff groused, hands up in the air. “They aren’t even dating! She says it’s 'casual’ and 'non-exclusive’,” he used air quotes while talking. Josuke and Okuyasu sat down. “Not to change the subject or anything,” Josuke started, “But the fact that all of you have met Okuyasu before really took the wind out of my sails.” “He hasn’t met Av yet.” Jotaro pointed out, eyes not leaving his paper. “That is true,” Okuyasu said helpfully, “I ain’t met him yet.” He rubbed Josuke’s shoulder, “It’s all gravy.” Their orders were taken and well on their way on coming out before Avdol showed up. “Apologies,” he said, while kissing the top of Jolyne’s head, then Polnareff’s cheek, “Had a student with a crisis, but it’s all resolved now.” He turned his attention to Okuyasu, “And this must be the boyfriend I’ve heard so much about,” Avdol stuck a hand out, eyes twinkling, “Mohammed Avdol, pleased to make your acquaintance. Everyone calls me Mo or Avdol, so feel free to address me as either.” “Uh, likewise,” Okuyasu shook his hand nervously, “Polnareff talks about you alot.” Josuke snorted. That was the understatement of the century. Avdol elbowed Polnareff as he settled down beside him, “Hopefully you’ve heard nothing, but good things.” Polnareff was affronted, “Excusez-moi? I’ve done nothing, but sing your praises to everyone. Perhaps I should start revealing the truth.” “And what truths do you have to reveal, Jean?” “That you are mean to me, you insult me, you don’t appreciate anything I–” Jotaro rolled up his substantial pile of papers and started smacking Polnareff in the head, much to Jolyne’s amusement, “Shut up, no one cares.” The Frenchman would not be silenced, “Betrayed by my own flesh and blood!” “We aren’t related, jackass.” Thankfully, the pizzas and Oku’s wings picked the right time to come out.  Josuke made a face at the Pineapple Larry’s Pineapple Larry Special, which was a Hawaiian pizza. Which Josuke hated with an almost irrational passion, so he scarfed down his little margherita pizza (Oku tried the pineapple. Final verdict: pretty damn good). “Hey Oku, when’s ya birthday?” Jolyne asked between shoveling huge bites of pizza in her mouth. Okuyasu was on what was probably his 27th wing, “October 10th.” Josuke spat his drink all over Polnareff, who immediately started shrieking and ran off to the bathroom, “That’s literally two weeks away! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “It never came up.” “We gotta throw ya a party,” Josuke whipped his phone out. “Nah nah, don’t worry about it,” Okuyasu put his hands up, “S'fine, dude.” Josuke rubbed his arm with one hand while texting with his other, “Don’t worry about it, we’ll get you and a bunch of other people shitfaced.” Okuyasu was about to protest, but Noriaki waved him down, “Might as well accept it, Okuyasu.” He stood up and stretched, “You guys ready to head to the arcade?” Jolyne hopped up and posed, “I’m ready!” Avdol followed suit, “I’ll go coax Jean out of the bathroom.” As Avdol walked away, Okuyasu leaned over to whisper in Josuke’s ear, “Hey, let’s go back to my place after we get done here.” “Sounds good, sunshine."  "Come on guys, I gotta beat you in Street Fighter!!” She started tugging on their shirt sleeves, “Losers have to buy ice cream!!” “You’re on, kid.” Josuke challanged.

“How the fuck did she get so good at Street Fighter?” Oku asked as he finished their shared joint, blowing the smoke into Josuke’s mouth. Josuke held it, then blew it out before answering, “Noriaki is a big nerd. He’s rubbed off on her.” “She’s five.” Josuke shrugged, “I beat Super Mario World when I was five.” They were sitting on a bench underneath a large open window facing out towards the back of Okuyasu’s apartment complex. The arcade trip had been a lot of fun, if you didn’t mind getting schooled at Street Fighter II by a 5 year old playing Blanka. This was the first time Josuke had been to Oku’s apartment in the entire time they’d know each other. It was nice, but didn’t feel like anyone lived in it. 'I hate being alone, so I go sleep in one of Keicho’s spare rooms, Yuuya’s couch, or with you. This place don’t really feel like home, ya know,’ had been Okuyasu’s explanation. The major upside to this place was that the Official Head Roadie and Weedman of Arrowhead, Hazamada, lived directly below Okuyasu. The two of them collaborated on a sick beat while pounding on the door to Hazamada’s apartment, inadvertently pummeling him in the face when he poked his head out to see who was knocking. Josuke almost pissed his pants from laughter; they got a shitty little joint, two middle fingers, and door slammed in their faces for their trouble.

When they lit up, Josuke straddled Oku’s lap and taught him how to shotgun smoke. It took a couple of tries, but eventually he got the hang of it. What followed was intense grinding and sloppy kisses. Josuke was very away of the problem poking at him, but was content with letting Oku twist in the wind for a bit. Then they fell into comfortable conversation, interrupted by the occasional tongue action. “Speaking of games,” Okuyasu stood up and stretched, his shoulders popping in a way that sounded painful, “let’s play something.” “What you got in mind?” “Hmm…” Okuyasu tapped his chin, “How about Metroid Prime 2? I never finished it.” He walked over to his entertainment stand, “I’ll get the Wii hooked up, could you go get my strategy guide for it?” “Why not just look up a FAQ for it?” Okuyasu kept his back turned to Josuke as he sat down to fiddle with the cords, “That guide’s got pictures. Sometimes reading a lot makes my head hurt, so they help.” Josuke nodded, but spoke when he remembered Okuyasu couldn’t see him, “That’s fair. Where is it?” “There’s a big box with "Books stuff” written on the side, filled with old magazines and shit in my spare room. It’s probably in there.“ Okuyasu’s spare room was were odds and ends went to die. The room was full of boxes and clutter that needed sifted through. At first, Josuke thought locating the box Okuyasu had indicated would be an impossible task, but miraculously, he was able to find it lickity-split. The box in question was filled with well-worn magazines and tattered strategy guides. It took a minute, but Josuke was able to find what he was looking for quickly. However, curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn’t help but sit on the floor, and peruse a few of the magazines. Guitar World, Kerrang!, Alternative Press, Rolling Stones; Okuyasu had quite the catalogue. There was a Rolling Stone in particular that, for whatever reason, drew him in. He picked it up and made to flip through it, but noticed that there were some pages stuck together. With care, Josuke peeled the pages apart to find his very first Calvin Klein underwear ad. The ad spanned two pages: one page featured him in nothing but briefs, biting his lip while staring into the camera, arms behind his head. The opposite page was more or less the same, except he had one hand on his chest, the other on a lollipop stick; his tongue peaked out of his open mouth, curled around the lollipop. The pages were covered in some residue. What the fuck did Oku spill on— he thought to himself, until a voice in his head interrupted. It’s semen. He masturbated to your undie ad. This was his spank bank. Josuke became very aware of how sweaty and red-faced he had become. Gently, he rose from the floor, guide and magazine in hand, and returned to the living room. "About time,” Okuyasu said, tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as he struggled to kill an Ing Warrior, “Was gonna go send a search and rescue party to find ya.” Josuke said nothing in response. Instead, he held up the spunk-covered pages, “I see you were a fan of my ad work.” Okuyasu’s face went on a journey from confusion to terrified. “Uhm…” he fidgeted nervously, already starting to sweat, “I can explain…” If he was about to explain it away, Josuke didn’t even give him a chance. He all but leapt onto Oku, shoving his tongue down his throat. A sloppy, heated makeout session ensued, with both of them groping at each other like a pack of horny teenagers. “You know,” Josuke panted, pulling away long enough to catch his breath, “We never cashed in that raincheck.” Before Okuyasu could respond, Josuke slid out of his lap, down in-between his knees. “I wanna make good on it,” Josuke rubbed the pronounced bulge in Okuyasu’s pants, “Can I suck you off, babe?” It seemed that Oku had been rendered completely speechless by that question. After a few seconds of processing what Josuke said, he could only manage to nod dumbly at his boyfriend. Josuke flashed him a wicked grin before pulling Oku’s basketball shorts and boxer briefs down in one go. A slight moan fell out of his mouth when he saw what awaited him. Okuyasu had a huge dick, and Josuke was delighted. It was long, thick, and throbbing; he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. “Oh fuck, baby,” Josuke bit his lower lip. “Wh-what?” Oku found his voice again. Josuke glanced up at him, and found that his face was puce and covered in sweat. “You look tasty.” With that, Josuke swiped his tongue all the way down Oku’s shaft, pleased at the whimper it elicited from him. He wrapped his hand around Okuyasu’s cock, pumping it roughly, “Is this what you thought about when you jerked it to me? What my mouth would feel like? How I’d sound when I’d beg for your cock?”

“God, yes,” Okuyasu gasped, covering his ruddy face with his hands.

“No baby, look at me when I fuck you with my mouth.”

Okuyasu didn’t remove his hands, but he peaked at Josuke through his spread fingers, eyes wide. Good enough, Josuke thought to himself as he took Oku’s dick into his mouth. Unfortunately, Josuke wasn’t blessed enough to not have a gag reflex, but he made up for it by harshly jerking the inches of Okuyasu he couldn’t fit into his mouth.

Not that his boyfriend seemed to mind. He was too busy moaning and cursing as Josuke prayed at the altar that was his dong.

Either his succ game was too strong, Okuyasu hadn’t known the touch of another person upon his penis in a long time, or the fact it was just Josuke Higashi-goddamn-kata giving Oku’s dick the business, Okuyasu panted out, “I’m close,” after a few minutes.

Josuke pulled back off his dick, still working the shaft, “Where do you want to cum, beautiful?”

“Your mouth,” Okuyasu grunted, voice rough.

Josuke pressed his tongue against the head of Oku’s cock, “Be a good boy and fill my mouth up. Coat my tongue.”

The dirty talk sent Okuyasu over the edge; he let out a single “Fuck!” as he spent himself in Josuke’s mouth.

Hot cum glazed Josuke’s tongue. He waited patiently until Oku was done spurting before showing him the load, and then making a big show of swallowing it. Unable to help himself, Josuke licked the head of his cock clean, revealing in the shudders that he felt pass through Okuyasu and the winded expression on his face.

Josuke stood up, feeling triumphant, “I’m gonna get a soda. You want some water?” He didn’t bother to wait for a response, as he walked into the kitchen.

As he pulled out a can of soda, he was acutely aware of his own boner. It was a problem that needed to be taken care of, but he just sucked the soul out of Okuyasu through his dick, so Josuke felt that it might be poor form to demand a blowjob. Perhaps later—

He was brought out of his thoughts when he felt Okuyasu press up against him from behind, palming Josuke’s dick through his sweats, teeth on his neck. Unconsciously, Josuke hissed, arching his back into his boyfriend. “I’m not the kinda guy to leave someone hanging,” Okuyasu spoke into his ear, voice like sandpaper, “I’m gonna suck you off, angel. Turn around.”

Josuke didn’t need to be told twice. He spun around, pulling his dick out; Oku backed him up against the counter, before kneeling in front of him. As if hypnotized, Okuyasu gently wrapped his callused fingers around Josuke’s cock, slightly stroking. Josuke’s breath hitched at every stroke. After a couple of minutes he groaned, “You’re killing me, dude.”

“S-sorry,” Okuyasu whispered sheepishly, “Jus’ appreciating the view.” As if he was ravenous, he dove down onto Josuke’s cock, taking it all the way to the back of his throat in one go. “Jesus H. Christ, do you not have a gag reflex,” Josuke stuttered out, completely taken aback. He didn’t get a response, only a devilish look from his boyfriend.

Curling his fingers into Okuyasu’s unmade hair, Josuke just tried to enjoy the ride. He was unable to keep his hips still; the longer he felt Oku’s hot tongue or throat clamp around his cock, Josuke thrusted more and more into his mouth.

Okuyasu pulled his dick out of his mouth for a moment, “You can facefuck me if you want.”

“You sure?”

Yet again, he received a response in the form of a look and the feeling of Oku’s throat against the head of his dick.

Not one to deny such a polite request, Josuke snapped his hips, fucking Oku’s mouth. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head; he wondered if this is how he’d fuck Okuyasu’s ass eventually. The thought of it made Josuke’s inside clench, and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning out Okuyasu’s name over and over again while he shot jets of cum down his throat. If he wasn’t so spent, he would feel embarrassed how quickly he came, but goddamn did that feel good.

Okuyasu waited like a good boy until Josuke pulled out of his mouth before he swallowed and stood up. Both of them eyed each other with worn out expressions. Josuke was the first to break the silence, leaning over and softly kissing Okuyasu, who returned it, “Metroid?”

“Metroid.”

“You know, if I went back in time and told myself a year ago that Josuke Higashikata would suck my soul out through my dick, I’d whoop my own ass for being a liar.”

Josuke snorted, eyes trained on his phone’s screen as he organized Okuyasu’s birthday party, “I ain’t a succubus, Oku.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, demon.” Oku was brows were furrowed, trying to not die while fighting Quadraxis.

“So, you jerked it to that ad of me, like, pretty frequently?”

Okuyasu sighed, cheeks going pink, “Yeah. I bought that issue when I saw those pictures in there. It gave me a lot of inspiration.”

“Man, that really feeds my ego.”

“Don’t be getting a big head, Higashikata. It’s already massive.”

“Fuck you, there’s nothing wrong with my head!!”

Okuyasu cackled, which quickly turned into a groan of frustration as he was squished to death by Quadraxis, “Fuck this robotic piece of shit. I’m gonna go to his house and burn it down.”

“He lives in the game, you can’t do that.”

“I know, I know,” he rubbed his face, “Still wanna though.” He looked over at Josuke, “You know, you don’t gotta throw me a party.”

“I want to,” Josuke replied, “It’ll be a good time. I’m inviting cool people.” At the apprehensive look on Oku’s face, he continued, “All of them know about us, so no worries there. You’ve already met most of them, and my family will be there.”

“Okay, then that’s fine. I think. Jus’ make sure to invite Keicho and all them too.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” Josuke said soothingly, “This will be a lot of fun, I promise. Nothing bad will happen.”

He hoped that his promise would ring true.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Molly Hooper Characters: Molly Hooper, Mycroft Holmes Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, POV Molly Hooper, POV Molly, Weddings, Dancing, First Dance, surprised Molly, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings, Mycroft Has a Crush, Molly Has A Crush, Mentioned Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes, Lonely Molly, Sad Molly, Happy Ending Series: Part 4 of A Thousand Different Lives Summary:

Molly returns to the estate where she grew up in time for her Lordship’s youngest son's wedding, and on the day of the event finds herself feeling plain and alone and unloveable. But not everyone sees her that way...

So this is another fic closer to my 800th Sherlock fic! The ship was picked out by @mollyhooperish, and I chose a prompt that has been sitting in my inbox since I got my 1,000th follower and started the series this is a part of from au-lives that asked for Wed!lock Mollcroft fic with the sentence "'You look beautiful.'” So here you go!

She had no idea why she'd let her mum talk her into coming to this wedding. Everyone looked so posh and glamorous, especially the lovely bride, dressed in a designer gown with gorgeous jewelry and a radiant smile. Molly looked down at the simple lavender dress she wore, with the scalloped lace edging at the bottom and the single strand of pearls around her next and the lavender high heeled Mary Janes she wore. She felt so plain and so...dull.

Her mum came over and nudged her with her elbow. “Go mingle, dear. It’s not every often you get an invitation to his Lordship’s wedding.”

Molly nodding before her mother scuttled off. She’d been the personal assistant to Lady Holmes for her entire life, and she’d grown up with both the Holmes brothers until she’d gone off to uni. She hadn’t come back home often, and hadn’t caught a glimpse of either of them when she was there. Oh, she’d heard stories; Mycroft was a member of Parliament, making a name for himself there, and Sherlock was a bit of a wild canon, a brilliant man passing the time as a private investigator of some sort but doing so for those who only had “interesting” cases and occasionally consulting for the Yard. She, herself, had gone abroad, gone to the States, and worked for a coroner’s office in New York. It wasn’t exactly the type of profession brought up in polite company, but it was interesting work and she enjoyed it.

And then she’d gotten the email from her mum that her father was ill and he needed care, and she’d dropped everything and rushed home, only to find herself smack dab in the middle of wedding preparations. Sherlock Holmes was settling down with the rather infamous Irene Adler. She had no clue the hows or whys of their relationship, but they seemed happy and, when she saw them alone together, genuinely in love. She wished them nothing but the best. But seeing them reminded her that she was nothing but alone in this world when it came to the field of romance.

She picked up a glass of champagne from a passing tray and took a sip. Oh, it was the good stuff. She should have known the Holmes’s would spare no expense. She was about to take a second sip when she heard a throat clear behind her. She turned quickly, her hair fanning out behind her slightly, and found herself looking up at a familiar figure with wide eyes. “Molly,” she heard Mycroft say quietly.

She felt herself warm at the cheeks slightly, not sure if it was the champagne or the nickname. Aside from her parents, Mycroft had been the only other person to call her Molly. She was Margaret to everyone else. She gave him a warm smile. “Mycroft. You look quite well.”

“You look beautiful,” he said, and she felt the warmth spread from the apples of her cheeks, a little further. To be honest, while Sherlock was the more classically handsome of the two brothers, she had always rather preferred Mycroft, both in looks and company. He always made time for her, always listened to her, and even though he was not classically handsome, there was an attractiveness to his features she had found that she thought of even as years passed.

Maybe he had done the same?

“Thank you,” she said, ducking her head slightly.

“Perhaps I could have a dance?” he asked, gesturing to the floor of the ballroom, where there were couples moving along the floor to a rather slow paced song.

“You want to dance? With me?” she asked, more surprised than she had realized she would be. There had to be any number of women wanting to go after him. Yes, Sherlock was off the market, but he was the second son. He wasn’t going to inherit the title or the estate. That was all going to go to Mycroft anyway. Why wasn’t he fending women off with a stick?

Why did he want to dance with her?

“I have wanted to since I was nineteen years old, and you were outside on the terrace during an event that my parents were having that you had been allowed to attend,” he said. “You had on a cream dress that my mother had let you borrow, and your hair was up in a bun, but a few tendrils had escaped at the nape of your neck. You were swaying in time to the music and I had thought to ask but my brother came out and enticed you to come back inside.”

Her mouth formed a small O shape as she searched back to that night. She had to have been young. Fifteen, perhaps? There wasn’t much difference age wise between them, though he looked older. She was older than Sherlock, after all. And oh, she was had been at just the right age then that she would have let him sweep her into his arms and dance the night away with her, heedless f the rest of the world. Their lives might have been very different then. Maybe better, maybe worse.

But now...today they could have their dance they should have had all those years ago.

She set her glass of champagne on a nearby table and then set her hand on his arm. “I would love to have a dance with you, Mycroft,” she said, giving him the warmest smile she could, and for a moment she got a look of surprise that she knew must have rivaled her own only moments before, but then it melted away, becoming a look of utter satisfaction as he led her to the floor. He set his hands on her waist as she stepped closer, wrapping his arms around his neck, and when they began to move in time with the music she felt a sense of rightness.

Perhaps going home hadn’t been a bad decision after all...

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