#i don't feel bad about all my wips (obviously) but i do feel a bit of guilt about some including this fic
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I do appreciate getting AO3 comments that encourage me to keep going! But I got a comment on an on-hiatus multi-chapter WIP that said absolutely nothing about it being unfinished and just listed things they liked, and it was really sweet.
#i don't feel bad about all my wips (obviously) but i do feel a bit of guilt about some including this fic#and then to get such a nice comment was... well. nice :)#anghraine babbles#ao3#nice things people say to me#fic talk#fic talk: pemberley and such
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Black and White
(bada x reader)
requested: yes! @badasgirlfriend this one's for my babygirl
content: fem!reader, jealous! bada(she lowkey gives possesive alpha vibes in this and im sorry, but its still hot cuz its her), kind of smut? like they don't smash but close enough, HOWL (I know and im sorry)
warnings: supa suggestive like I'm dying at what I just typed (in my defense I was listening to I was never there by the weeknd so blame him) mentions of alcohol, that's it I think.
a/n: once again, i apologise. my innner whore jumped out. also eli if you wanted it to be fluffy pls lemme know and I'll wip something else up, but I still hope you like this, I love you mwah!
"how do I look?"
your words were met with a long, bordering on uncomfortable silence. this confused you, since you were asking out of genuine curiosity and had expected a quick answer from bada, but nothing came.
you turned away from the mirror and faced her, your eyes narrowing as you waited for her reply with crossed arms. "that bad, huh?" you said sarcastically.
sure, this dress was a bit more... revealing than the clothing you tended towards in your everyday, but in your defense, it wasn't everyday that you went to a gala dinner.
seeing as you and bada were both respected and accoladed dancers respectively, you had both gotten invites, so going as each others dates seemed like a no brainer.
you had settled on a sleek white number with the back completely open, and a slit (for mobility's sake, you swear) you looked really good, or, so you thought, but bada's reaction however, was making you second guess yourself.
she was in black silk gown, and she looked drop dead gorgeous. you were surprised that you weren't actually frothing at the mouth like some starved animal. hell, you wondered how you could make it through the whole night without your attraction to her being exposed.
"not bad at all." she finally clarified in an abrupt manner, as if she had been taken out a daze. "you look amazing. it's just different, but good different, I promise."
you nodded, though you weren't fully convinced by her efforts. in any case, it was a little too late to turn your back on the dress, seeing as your ride for the evening was parked in front of bada's place.
the ride to the venue was filled with a strange sort of tension, one that you couldn't quiet place. you weren't upset, or at least, you tried not be upset at the fact the bada wasn't the biggest fan of your dress, its not like she was actively berating you or anything harsh like that. but there was clear energy occurring between you and her, you could feel it in the way she gazed at you.
you really did try to get her reaction out of your mind, conversing with your dancing peers, eating foods you couldn't even pronounce at the table, but nevertheless, it kept knawing at you, forming a pit in your stomach. (you guessed that it also didn't really help that bada was sat right next to you, with her gaze fixed on your every move, even if she was talking to other people.)
as bada excused herself to the bathroom, giving you a much needed break from her stare, you decided that the only way to fill the pit in your stomach was through a drink.
you successfully made your way to the bar, careful not to trip on your own two feet, before ordering your usual and raking a seat, waiting for said drink to arrive.
you thanked the bartender, looking around the room to make sure no eyes were on you before downing the glass in an instant, relishing in the burn. you were right, this would definitely distract you.
"rough night?" a familiar voice asked as you ordered a second drink.
"how could you tell? the slumped shoulders or the fact that my drink only lasted about two seconds in my hand?" your reply was met with a laugh, as the owner of the voice, who you had recognised as howl, took to the seat next to yours.
"obviously I have no idea what's got you so shaken up, but if its any conciliation..." he trailed off, leaning just a bit closer to you, his voice a low whisper.
"you look stunning tonight." you grimaced internally, howl wasn't a bad looking man by any means, but you weren't really interested in him, or any man, or anyone that wasn't bada. you were about to respond, brushing off his attempt at flirting without it being too awkward, but you were cut off before you could even open your mouth.
"there you are, can we go outside for a sec? I wanna talk to you." thank the lord for bada, who had given you the perfect excuse to slip away from howl without even needing to entertain him for a moment longer.
you feigned a woeful expression, almost as if to convey that you didn't want to leave him alone, all the while letting bada lead you with a hand on your wrist all the way outside.
you finally paused when you made it behind the venue, and when you turned to bada, she was already looking at you. the expression on her face was nothing short of... silently seething.
you furrowed your brows, determined not to back away from this impromptu staredown you had suddenly entered. "you know, you've been acting weird ever since I asked you about my dress back at your place, so just tell me what your fucking problem is, bada."
she smirked at your outburst, and that only made you even more annoyed, what about you was so fucking amusing to her tonight? she stepped closer to you, effectively trapping you between the wall and herself, and you broke eye contact with her despite yourself. she was too close for you to think straight.
"my problem..." she paused, trailing her finger along your collarbone, her gaze fixated on your chest, rapidly rising and falling. "...is that everyone gets to see you look so fucking sexy, when I'm the only one who really deserves it." your eyes widened at her words, and you were suddenly extremely glad that the wall was behind you to give your body support.
her hand moved even further, her large hand cupping your breast through your dress, and her thumb grazing your nipple, making your head tip back automatically. "and then, fucking howl has the nerve to flirt with you?" she chuckled bitterly, cutting her laugh off with a quiet groan as your hand went over hers, keeping it on your chest.
"it made realise that people don't get it. that you're mine. so why don't I make you mine right here, so that people don't get confused anymore, hmm? you'd like it, wouldn't you? I know I would." her voice was breathy now, and you nearly moaned as she trailed her other hand along your upper thigh, using the slit to get to your underwear, which you had surely soaked through by now.
it goes without saying that you would like her to take you then too.
another a/n: this was also my second time writing something kinda smutty ever, so pls practice kindness in the comments😀
#bada lee#bada lee x reader#bada imagine#bada#bada x reader#bada lee x y/n#bada lee fanfiction#bada smut#bada smau#bada lee smut#bada lee swf#bada lee fic#swf2 x reader#swf x reader
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star stickers and best efforts.
「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, hurt/comfort but 100% not at all, reader is mildly mean when nervous LIKE A BAD DOG /ref and most definitely written self-indulgently by accident, sun is mildly condescending, they r each others best supporters, mentions of a customer being rude but rly nothing crazy, sun uh... he's an interesting fella, BIGGG dialogue chunks im sorry im sorry 」
「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」
↳ ft. the daycare attendant/sun/sundrop
author's note: my wip title was literally just "the one where you're yelled at" :p
but... hiiii!!! obligatory return to fnaf real quick becuz,,, no, i still havent gotten into the ruin dlc but YES i do love sun's personality in help wanted 2..... if this is ooc u can erm. shove me into wet concrete. (。﹏。) aaannywayz!! missed this!!! missed this so much!!!! ( ╯□╰ ) sorry for not valentine's day posting,,, scandalous ik since im lit rally Called Valentine. but oh well. enjoy! or dont. if you dont im sorry please request fnaf stuff so i can Fix That /srs
if you weren't relying on this job to put food on your table and a roof on your head, you’d burn the freddy fazbear’s mega pizzaplex to the ground for a piece of pocket lint and a pat on the head.
maybe it’s a bit dramatic to say that— you're paid well, you like your mostly robot coworkers, and most of the time (emphasis on most and not always) the work is manageable enough.
the customers are another story.
sun notices the minute you walk in the daycare. you look like you're a minor inconvenience away from murder— which naturally, makes him feel inclined to prod a little.
“well, someone’s awfully sulky today!”
while you’d typically crack a smile at the upbeat jester animatronic, his enthusiasm in the face of your misery is grating. there’s no energy left in your body to banter with him— you were using most of it to drag your feet over to the shoe caddy, toolbox in hand to fix up its shelf, now hanging askew due to a busted bracket.
“can it, sunny, i don't wanna hear it.” you mutter, more venomous than you intend it to be. he doesn’t even blink at your grumpiness. instead, he happily holds up the shelf while you inspect it and grab a new bracket to secure it.
at least he’s trying to make himself useful. you think to yourself.
his faceplate tilts slightly, staring at you with that ever present grin. his staring isn’t really helping, but you don’t fault him for it. you’ve gotten used to his antics by now. “woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” sun questions.
you shake your head.
“got yelled at by a customer— now, if you could please just drop the topic—” you sigh exasperatedly, not even bothering to finish the sentence as you sit down cross legged in front of the shoe caddy, slumping slightly in defeat.
much too persistent for his own good, sun decides that inquiring even further about the incident that seems to have you beat down is a good idea. “what’d you do?”
you consider feigning offense as he insinuates it’s somehow your fault. but you don’t. you just shrug it off.
“my job.”
“ah, they do hate it when you do that.” he tuts.
“it wasn’t even that big of a deal,” you mutter, getting the bracket in place and marking it, “this one kid just so happened to walk up to the arcade machine i was putting an out of order sign on. i felt bad, so like, obviously, i hand the kid a few tokens, apologize politely, explain— and you’d think it’s all good right?”
you pause mid-ramble as you fix up the shelf. in all your misery, you forgot that you don’t even know exactly what caused the shelf to collapse like this. you consider asking.
sun leans in just a bit too close, interrupting your train of thought as you stare at the shelf. when you glance at him, he gives you a little nod.
go on, he seems to say wordlessly. he’s waiting silently for you to continue your story. it’s never not unnerving when he’s quiet.
“...anyways, uh... the kid’s dad came by and got mad or something. didn’t understand why i couldn’t just let him play one game since it looked perfectly functional— keep in mind, this is the arcade machine that literally kept eating up tokens only to not function, and shocked kids when it did— so i kept trying to explain why i couldn’t exactly do that. but for some reason, it was such a big fucking deal—”
“language.” he chides.
“...fricking deal. of course, i had to be berated for it. i offered to grab them more faz-tokens as compensation and i thought the problem was solved... and then i checked and saw he still left a bad review. definitely gonna hear about that from management.” sun hands you a tool as you continue to speak.
“but now i’m upset, i’m definitely in trouble, and my face hurts from the whole customer service smile i was holding that entire conversation. like seriously, i don’t know how i’m expected to do that 24/7.” you stop at your last remark and stare at sun and his unchanging expression. “...my bad.”
the awkward silence only lasts for a moment, thankfully. you’ve spoken your piece— sun decides to speak his.
“you did your best.” he says simply, as you finally fix the shelf into place. he pats you on the head and doesn't even hide his amusement when you sulk.
“i know that tone, sunny, you're making fun of me—”
“poor thing.” he continues, grinning brightly as he makes a show of patronizing you. sun’s hand continues to pat the top of your head gently, like he would when consoling a child. or when greeting a dog. has he,,, ever seen a dog before? probably not.
you groan and manage to shove his arm away.
“i do mean it though,” he continues, his tone still lighthearted— but notably more earnest as he notes your expression. sun helps you put your tools away neatly back into the toolbox, even though it really is just a one-man job.
“you tried your best,” sun closes the toolbox with a flourish and a click, “...and for that—!”
with a dramatic flick of his wrist, bells jingling as he does, sun produces a gold star sticker from… somewhere. he holds it up for you to see.
and then gently presses it onto the tip of your nose.
“to my favoritest human employee here! and my bestest of friends!” it’s hard to bite back a smile at those words. even if his little show of empathy and affection is much too theatrical for your current mood.
“whatever.” you shrug a little, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from twitching into a little grin. standing up and grabbing the toolbox, you give him an awkward thumbs up.
“thanks. and uh… sorry. for being mean. i guess.”
sun shakes his head dismissively, bouncy and bright as ever. “oh, don't mention it!”
something about his seeming lack of offense towards your prickliness makes you feel even more guilty. still, he gives you a wave as you head out, “bye-bye”-ing happily as you walk away, sticker stuck to your nose and smile on your face like an idiot.
you decide you’ll find a way to make it up to him later. you figure he deserves that much for putting up with everything.
meanwhile, sun is taking mental notes on more stuff to break of whenever you’ve been away for too long. just in case, of course. maybe you’d have more interesting customer encounters to rant about. and hey, you could use the company, couldn’t you?
— reblogs always appreciated!
#fnaf sb#fnaf sun#fnaf dca#sundrop#fnaf x reader#sundrop x reader#fnaf sundrop#dca x reader#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf sb headcanons#sun x reader#daycare attendant x reader#fnaf security breach headcanons#dca x self insert#how do i tag again#help wanted 2#kind of#not really
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wip catalogue ! ft. qh43, lh43, jh86, nm29, tz11, jc37, dm91
author's note; hey everyone, mari here, just wanted to say thank you for 1k followers!!!!!!!!1 that's crazy, and you guys are so so amazing and cool and swag. i thought about doing a celly, (fun fact, i've never done one of those!) but i've decided to save that for next time and attempt to do a draft clean out.
i have 117 drafts, really just pages upon pages of unfinished work that i'd like to get out at some point. so, if you enjoy my writing, under the cut will be excerpts from fics/oneshots/series' that i haven't finished. if any of them of them peak your interest, please let me know by either leaving a comment, or something in my inbox. i'll try and work on the ones that have the most interest first, and then finish the others. if this doesn't make sense, or you have any questions, you can let me know in the same fashion.
dad!jt compher x fem!reader
Eamon huffs out of frustration. “She’ll already marry Sammy B. by then.”
Laughter escapes JT’s lips, “and who is Sammy B.?”
He huffs again. “He has black hair, and he sits by her in reading. Why can’t I have hair like mommy?”
“I got my hair color from my dad, your papa, just like you got yours from daddy.” You explain.
“Well, I don’t want daddy’s stupid h-hair.” Eamon’s voice waivers, and the tears that he was holding in begin to free fall. He turns into your side, clutching your shirt.
This idea randomly came to me. Eamon would probably be in either first or second grade, and has a little crush like all kids have. Said crush doesn't like his hair color, and tells him that flat out because kids are menaces and very blunt. OR. Was floating around the idea of the same concept, but perhaps a teenage girl? tween girl, maybe middle school age, and the boy she likes only likes blondes, so she asks to dye her hair blonde? But obviously that conversation would be waaaay more mature. I don't know. If you have any thoughts, feel free to let me know.
———
jack hughes x fem!reader (best friends brother/kinda enemies to lovers)
"You can put your drink on my tab." A voice says, coming up from behind you, a hand on the small of your back as he takes a seat at the barstool to your right. You smile to yourself, shaking your head before turning to him.
You quirk a brow at him, "I did that already."
He rolls his eyes at your answer, taking a sip of his own drink, some beer you'd never heard of until earlier tonight. You'd taken a sip of Luke's earlier, and about gagged at the taste. "Of course you did."
You shrug your shoulders, no shame in your game. You were at a bar with about a dozen NHL players, you'd be damned if you had to buy your own drinks. "I already told Lukey I'm not paying for anything this weekend."
The request: Hiii can I request something where reader and luke know each other from college and they’re at a party or bar and jack is visiting luke so they see each other and jack is interested in reader but she’s playing hard to get 🤭
I changed the request a bit, so it's set in this season when Luke is already with the Devils, and reader visits during that 5 game homestead. This would probably be a long one shot, and I like the idea of combining these tropes:
forbidden
best friends brother
enemies to lovers (but not insanely enemies)
(more below, but a different part than above)
He scoffs, his hand pushing into your shoulder, playfully of course. "I love this relationship that we have."
You quirk a brow, bringing your glass to your lips, finishing off the rest of your white russian. "And what relationship is that?"
"The one where you pretend you're not in love with your best friends older brother."
"I always did like Quinn." You respond, an innocent smile on your lips.
"No-"
You cut him off. "Plus, he has that whole Captain thing going on. Very sexy."
"He has a girlfriend!" He exclaims.
You shrug your shoulders, leaning in closer to face him. "That's too bad."
You're obviously joking, but Jack doesn't seem to catch on. "And, you're too young for him."
You shoot him a questioning look. "But not for you, huh?"
He slides his barstool closer to yours, the fabric of his jeans making contact with the bare skin of your knee. "Are you still dating that college fuck, what was his name.. Alan?"
Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip. "Aiden."
He nods, feigning a look of realization, while you both know that he knew his name. "Right, Aiden." He confirms. "The guy who leaves you on the side of the road at 3am."
You scoff, shaking your head. "That was one time."
Your eyes shoot to his palm, that has found a place on your thigh, his warm hand against your cold skin sending a chill throughout your body.
"I could never leave a pretty girl like you on the side of the road." He continues.
Probably going to have a lot of bickering throughout the fic, reader will be hardheaded and uncompromising on fucking up her friendship with Luke. I haven't fleshed out the personalities I want them to have yet so this is in a very rough stage. If you have any thoughts, feel free to let me know.
———
nathan mackinnon x fem!reader (5 year age gap)
“Today’s my 23rd birthday.” You say, before taking a sip of your drink, your attention to the right, where a man as struck up a conversation with you at the bar.
He takes a swig of his beer, his eyes roaming your body before they finally meet your gaze again. He looks conflicted, his brows tensed as if battling an internal war.
You weren’t stupid. You graduated college top of your class—with honors, and even if you hadn’t, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that you were speaking to an older man.
The only man, to even catch a sliver of your entire, in the entire bar. You’d caught eyes with him from across the room, back when you were pushed in a booth with your friends. He looked away immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you every now and again, before you finally excused yourself from the table and went up to the bar. You wore a black slip dress, your hair cascading down your back with silver glitter hair tinsel placed throughout. You didn't bother turning to see if he would follow you, you don't chase, you attract. If he sat in the chair next to you, then he was buying you a drink. And if he didn't, then you'd move on to the next.
“Happy Birthday.” He finally said.
"What happened to your nose?" You were over the birthday formalities-having received them all night. You had questions for the man sitting next to you, starting with his bruised nose, a prominent and formidable feature dominating his face that you couldn't take your eyes off of. With him looking straight at you, you could see that it curved slightly to your right. Nothing stopped the thoughts of feeling it against your skin.
"My nose?" He questions. There's surprise in his tone of voice, like he forgot about the bruise on his nose, or surprised that you'd asked about it.
"Quite the shiner you got there." You comment again, bringing your glass to your lips again, this time finishing off the rest.
"Uh-" he pauses. There it is again with those tensed eyebrows, you wished you could gauge what he was thinking about. "Work incident."
"Damn, where do you work?" You let out a chuckle. You hadn't meant to be blunt, but you couldn't imagine what line of work would create a bruise like that.
He finishes his beer, setting it back on the counter with a light thud. "I work in..sports."
"What are you like a gym teacher?"
He laughs, for the first time since he's sat down next to you. You could tell that he had a nice smile. "Something like that."
Another fic starting in a bar. Don't know how this started, but very self indulgent as I am 22 and suffer from nate mac brainrot daily ! I have no idea for plot at all, literally nothing. I'd probably want to include smut of some sort, that seems very much where the vibe is heading, but I am absolutely terrible at writing it, so I'll have to do some research and practice writing that (if you have any tips-please let me know!!)
———
quinn hughes x fem!reader (debating on making this an oc)
Quinn and Reader (debating on making reader an OC!) are getting married in a week, and reader is still struggling to write her vows. Will probably be a long fic and include the wedding. A bit angsty, but a lot of fluff to make up for it. I'd probably give reader/oc emotionally distant parents?? Or maybe her parents are divorced? Not sure. It'll mid offseason, so we'll probably see a lot of familiar faces (j. norris, b. tkachuk, etc.)
Your frustration mounted as you released an exasperated sigh, the eraser of your pencil frantically working overtime to correct yet another line that failed to capture the right essence. You flicked away the eraser remnants with a swift motion of your palm, straightening out your legs and allowing the spiral notebook to settle in your lap. Leaning back against the arm of the couch, you closed your eyes, simultaneously opening and closing your hand in an attempt to alleviate the cramping in your fingers. A burgeoning headache threatened to take hold, and you could feel a slight discomfort in your eyes after hours of writing without the aid of your glasses.
A week, you were getting married in a week, and you still hadn't finished writing your vows. Admittedly, you had procrastinated until the last minute, but you hadn't anticipated the challenge to be this daunting. Your love for Quinn surpassed anything you had ever experienced, so why was expressing it in words proving to be such a formidable task? Frustration morphed into annoyance, and you carelessly tossed the notebook onto the modest coffee table before rising from the couch and heading towards the bathroom.
You were grateful that no one was home at the moment. Everyone had gone out for lunch, and you chose to remain behind, citing a lack of sleep the previous night as the reason for your decision to take a nap. While that wasn't entirely false – your night had indeed been restless – your true intention wasn't to catch up on sleep while the others were away. Quinn, being the caring soul he was, insisted on staying with you, but you resisted his efforts and practically ushered him out the door. That was about an hour ago, and you were keenly aware that their return was imminent.
Delving into the medicine cabinet, your fingers located the bottle of aspirin. You poured two into your palm, easily popping them into your mouth and washing them down with water from the sink. Gazing into the mirror, you couldn't help but cringe at your reflection. The extent of your fatigue hit you with full force – the bags under your eyes were darker than you had ever seen them.
Let me know your thoughts if you have any.
———
quinn hughes x fem!reader
This would probably just be a fluffy, short, domestic blurb, don't really have any other plot ideas for this.
Arriving home from work, all you wanted to do was take a shower and collapse into your bed. Tonight was an exception, with your shift extending later than usual, around 10:30, instead of your customary 9. Combine that with your regular hour-long commute, and it's almost midnight by the time you finally get home. Silently navigating through the dark and quiet house, it appears that your boyfriend is already asleep. However, as you step into your shared bedroom, you find him slumped against the headboard, eyes fixed on his iPad, headphones in.
The soft glow from the screen casts a muted ambiance in the room, the only sound being the distant hum of the city outside. Your initial fatigue gives way to a subtle pang of guilt, realizing he stayed up to wait for you, something he quite often did when he was home, even though you insisted he not.
He doesn't notice you, until you've crossed over to your dresser to grab your nightclothes before your shower, slightly jumping before dropping his iPad and taking out his headphones. "Hey, you're finally home." He comments, climbing out of his previous spot on the bed to sit at the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off the edge.
You yawn, turning around to face him. "Don't you have to be up early tomorrow?" You question. He pats his thighs, gesturing for you step over to him.
Leaving your clothes to rest on the dresser, you walk over to him. Quinn widens his legs so you can step in between them. Wordlessly, his fingers trail up your waist, to your chest, beginning to undo the buttons of your white lab coat. He slides the fabric off your shoulders, leaving only the black satin blouse you'd been wearing underneath.
He pulls gently at your collar, drawing your lips to his softly. His hands drop to your waist, gripping at your sides to guide you on top of him until you're straddling him.
"Are you okay, Quinn?" you ask, breaking apart from the kiss, just enough for your foreheads to remain pressed against each other.
"Just missed you." he mumbles, pulling you into a hug, his head finding a comfortable spot in the crook of your neck.
Let me know your thoughts if you have any.
———
jack hughes x fem!reader
Toxicity, angst, angry sex, maybe second chance love, idk.
"Where have you been?" Jack's inquiry slices through the air, surprising you as you step quietly through the front door. Your boyfriend, still awake and perched on the couch, rises to his feet the moment the door closes, arms crossed at his chest, a sour expression gracing his features. Your brows furrow in confusion as you lift one foot behind you, placing your hand on the wall for balance while attempting to undo your heel.
"What?" His question catches you off guard, especially because you had left him multiple messages earlier, clearly communicating your plans for the night—messages that went unanswered, leaving you on read once again. He sighs, a mix of frustration and concern, and crosses over to you, bending down. Without a word, he grabs your knee, gently pulling your heel-clad foot to rest on your knee, his hands deftly moving to undo the straps. He repeats the same with the other foot, before releasing you of his hold.
"I don't like you being out this late," he says, the firmness in his voice evident as he pushes himself up from his feet. Suddenly, he's towering over you, and you angle your neck to look up at him, annoyance etching your face.
"Sorry, Dad, didn't realize I had a curfew," you slur with a wry smile, a hint of laughter punctuating the absurdity of his concern. With a last dismissive glance, you shake your head and push past him, your shoulder bumping into his side as you ascend the stairs to the bedroom.
Let me know your thoughts if you have any.
———
quinn hughes x fem!reader
Quinn shows the reader that she can enjoy her birthday when the two of them spend it together for the first time. Would be super fluffy, reader will be written to have two dads, though I might make it an OC instead.
Quinn's persistent nuzzling against your shoulder blade disrupts your peaceful slumber. With a groan, you bury your head deeper into the pillow, yearning to cling to a few more precious moments of sleep before the demands of the day pull you from its embrace. Gradually, he initiates a series of tender kisses, commencing at your collarbone and concluding at that delightful spot just beneath your neck. "Happy Birthday, Angel," Quinn murmurs, his warm breath brushing against your skin.
Gently parting your eyelids, you shift on your other side to meet his gaze. His eyes are already fixed on you, brimming with adoration, as his teeth graze at his bottom lip. The morning sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a warm glow that accentuates just how gorgeous he truly is. Even in the early hours, with disheveled hair and faint remnants of drool, he remains undeniably handsome in every retrospect.
"Thank you," you express your gratitude softly, a subtle shyness tinting your voice.
Birthdays, even as a child, never held much appeal for you. The discomfort of being the focal point, the recipient of attention, has remained a constant, and birthdays, with their inevitable spotlight, are something you've always actively avoided. Yet, here you are, facing a birthday that feels different, primarily because Quinn is here to share it with you. This marks the first birthday you're spending with him in the span of your three year relationship, and it's a welcomed departure from the usual routine. It's a rarity, considering his demanding schedule that seldom grants him time off, but you know it's because he'll be leaving for a four game road-trip on Monday.
Reaching over, his hand envelops yours, fingers applying deliberate pressure that prompts a satisfying crack from your knuckles. It's a peculiar habit he picked up from you, a subtle exchange of quirks that began when you surprised him with it initially. "I have a special day planned for you," he announces, punctuating his words with a tender kiss pressed into the center of your palm.
"You know I don't want a fuss, Quinn," you mumble, weariness etched across your features.
He senses your reluctance and responds swiftly, his touch gentle as he brushes a strand of hair away from your eyes. "Not too much," he reassures, his words soothing against your worries. "Just want to celebrate you, Angel, on your day." Drawing nearer, he shifts, propping himself up on his right arm as he hovers over you. "Will you let me?" He wets his bottom lip, anticipation palpable as he awaits your response.
A small, close-lipped smile graces your lips as you reach up, your fingers delicately tracing over the overgrown scruff that lines his face. "Of course I will." A wide grin spreads across his face in response to your words, and he leans in, morning breath be damned, as your lips meet in a soft, synchronized dance.
He breaks apart, planting a kiss on your nose, before carefully stepping over you to get out of bed. "You get ready, I'll make breakfast."
Let me know your thoughts if you have any.
———
luke hughes x fem!reader (but not really)
This is part two to Nobody's Love. I finished it, but I absolutely hate it, and will basically be starting over from square one. Below is where we would've left off, but when I finish this properly, it won't start with this dialogue, it will probably open within a flashback, and this part will be later in the story (if that makes sense).
"What's going on here?" Your blood runs cold at the sound of his voice, and you immediately break away from Jack, moving with an urgency as if you'd been caught doing something forbidden. Frantically, your hands move to wipe away the lingering traces of tears that you'd shed just moments ago. But your efforts to disguise your emotions prove futile as Luke's keen eyes detect the remnants of your sorrow, and his face contorts into a mix of confusion and well-intended concern.
"Why is she crying? What did you do to her?" Luke's voice brims with accusation, his words directed at his brother.. He takes a step forward, his intent to comfort you clear in his movement. You instinctively shuffle backwards, creating a protective distance, your arms loosely crossing over your chest.
Jack scoffs, disbelief etched across his features. "I didn't do anything," he retorts, his tone dripping with emphasis on the word 'I,' subtly implying that Luke is the source of your distress.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Luke's words slice through the air, laced with an unmistakable edge. His face tinges with a reddish hue as his gaze drills into Jack.
Again, would love to give you a bigger excerpt, but I hate everything else of what I've written LMAO. Let me know your thoughts if you have any.
———
quinn hughes x darcy sorokin (black fem!oc)
Basically a quinn x single mom au. May rewrite this entire thing. Also, started this months ago and loved the name Sunny for the kid (Sunny Sorokin) (no relation to the hockey player) but now I kind of hate it :)
Quinn became utterly enamored with her the moment his gaze met hers in the diner. She was a delightful surprise, replacing his usual waiter, Johnny, to collect his order. Her dark skin seemed to radiate a subtle glow under the dim diner lights, and her curly hair was artfully gathered in a loose bun resting at the back of her neck, adorned with a floral bandana draped over it. When she smiled, her dimples and the slight gap between her front teeth only added to her charm, leaving Quinn captivated and unable to shake thoughts of her for days.
Quinn stumbled upon Alma’s, the quaint diner, during his rookie year in Vancouver. Its unassuming atmosphere, a hidden gem tucked away, immediately resonated with him, providing a sense of ease. Combine that with the staff’s familial treatment, and he easily became a regular patron. Now, however, his visits weren’t just about unwinding and savoring a meal; he hoped to encounter the beautiful waitress he had learned was named Darcy (not through inquiry, but thanks to her name tag — he was too anxious to ask). Quinn relished any excuse to come to the diner, whether to be served by Darcy or simply steal glances at her when she wasn’t looking.
Quinn’s attempts to discreetly observe Darcy didn’t go unnoticed. She could sense the weight of his gaze, subtly tracking her movements around the diner. Intrigued and slightly puzzled by his behavior, Darcy decided to approach her co-worker, Johnny, to inquire about this regular customer. Johnny, with his wealth of experience at the diner, shared that Quinn was a nice guy who had been a faithful patron for years. He detailed Quinn’s routine of ordering the same breakfast every morning—soft scrambled eggs on wheat—followed by prolonged disappearances, especially during the summer months. Armed with this newfound knowledge, Darcy’s curiosity about the handsome and somewhat mysterious customer deepened.
Darcy couldn’t deny the undeniable attractiveness of the man. His chestnut brown hair, steadily growing out since their first encounter, months ago, often required his attention as he habitually moved it out of his line of sight. His eyes, a deep brown that occasionally hinted at hazel in the early morning light. The way his teeth grazed over his bottom lip during conversation, though she was unsure if it was born out of nervousness or mere habit. Following the tumultuous chapter with her ex-boyfriend, after nearly five years, another man had finally found a place in her thoughts.
She harbored these thoughts secretly, keeping them locked away from anyone but herself. With her son, Sunny, now five years old, she couldn’t afford to be hasty. Sunny, more aware of his surroundings, comprehended things with greater clarity. She had already delicately explained the departure of his father, her ex-boyfriend, wanting to shield him from the unnecessary pain of the wondering, not knowing. And despite yearnings for companionship, she held the burden of guilt for Sunny’s lack of a father figure, and understood the importance of not rushing into a relationship that wasn’t genuine. Both she and Sunny deserved better, and she was determined to prioritize their well-being.
Let me know if you have any thoughts.
———
quinn hughes x fem!reader
Quinn and Reader go to their favorite diner late after a game. Probably lots of fluff, reminiscing. Possibly out of character Quinn, not too sure if he'd be into pda in front of the wags LOL.
Hovering in the distant corner, your fingers nervously toyed with the security pass draped around your neck, its edge resting just above the waistline of your jeans. A cluster of other wives and girlfriends lingered in the same vicinity, engaged in casual banter among themselves. You offered polite smiles, but there was no effort on their part to include you, nor did you make any overtures to join their conversation.
At last, you caught sight of a familiar mop of brown hair making its way down the hallway. The impulse to sprint towards him, leap into his arms, and plant an immediate kiss on his lips surged within you. However, with watchful eyes fixed on you, you opted for a more restrained approach, contenting yourself with a gentle caress of your hand against his right bicep. "Great game, Quinn."
A puzzled expression settles on his face, seemingly oblivious to the attention directed your way, or perhaps indifferent to it. His calloused hands find their place on your waist, guiding you closer as he dips his head low to meet your lips. Your fingers intertwine around his neck, and as his towering figure elevates you slightly off the ground, he murmurs, "Thank you, baby."
An orchestra of 'awws' surrounds you, a symphony of approval that bathes your cheeks in warmth. Quinn, charmed by your bashful response, lets out a chuckle, drawing you back into the protective embrace of his side. As he ushers both of you towards the back door, he bids the women farewell with a casual, "Goodnight, ladies," leaving the echo of their admiration suspended in the air.
"Goodbye, Quinn!" Their voices lingered with a touch of wistful admiration. You couldn't help but notice the collective enchantment Quinn seemed to cast on them. It wasn't entirely surprising—your boyfriend possessed a magnetic blend of boyish charm and dorky allure that had a way of rendering anyone weak in the knees. Since being crowned captain and amassing a string of victories, his newfound confidence only added to his undeniable sex appeal.
The night air nips at the exposed skin, coaxing you to cling closer to Quinn's comforting frame. As you approach the car, the two of you reluctantly break apart. "Do you want me to drive?" Quinn shakes his head with an easy smile, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before courteously opening the passenger side door for you.
You smoothly slide into the car, and Quinn secures the door behind you. With a jog to the driver's side, he swiftly settles into the seat, key in the ignition. Your hand instinctively reaches for the heat controls, but Quinn, ever attentive, beats you to it. After ensuring your seatbelt is on, he rests his hand on your thigh, the warmth of his touch contrasting the cool night air as he skillfully navigates out of the once bustling parking garage.
"Eddie's?" His voice dances just above the soft melody of the radio in the background. Tilting your head to the left, you catch his gaze for a fleeting moment before his focus returns to the road.
"Okay" You nod absentmindedly, a yawn escaping your lips as you lean your head against the window of the car.
He peers at you once more, skepticism lingering in his gaze. "Are you sure? We can just call it a night and head home if you're tired."
Your hand descends onto his, offering a reassuring squeeze. Fatigue clings to you, but the knowledge that he's hungry and wouldn't eat if you went home propels you forward. "I want to go out with you, Quinn."
A grin overtakes his lips, and he brings your hand up to his mouth, peppering a kiss against your palm.
Let me know your thoughts if you have any.
———
dawson mercer x juniper hughes (fem!oc) (luke's twin)
Remember last halloween when I floated around the idea of dawson x hughes sister. I started it, barely a sliver into the universe. I also know very little about dawson other than I think he's an absolute cutie pie, so I'll have to do some research for this series for sure. Will deal with heavy topics such as alcoholism, addiction, etc, so if that is triggering for you, this may not be the series for you, please take care of yourself, love you.
Juniper Hughes was no stranger to the judgmental eyes. They seemed to trail her everywhere she went, the invisible weight of societal expectations bearing down on her, reminding her both of who her family was and who she wasn't. While her brothers excelled as perfect, professional athletes, following in her parents' footsteps, she had been on a different journey—one of recovery from alcoholism after her expulsion from school due to underage drinking.
Twelve long years of arduous study, relentless commitment to extracurricular activities, unending string of tests, and the suffocating pressure of expectations—Juniper endured it all. Only one fateful night was enough to strip away everything she'd worked for. In the blink of an eye, her scholarship to Brown University was lost, her only friend torn from her, and her dignity shattered into pieces. The ruthless media, once her cheerleaders, rapidly transformed into her tormentors, subjecting her to a public shaming campaign for her mistakes, constantly drawing odious comparisons with her accomplished brothers. The intrusive question hung heavily in the air, echoing endlessly: where had her parents gone wrong with her?
Why was she so deeply flawed while her brothers seemed to glide through life unburdened? Why couldn't she manage a regular relationship-whether it was with alcohol, food, or people, but they could? Juniper's life had always been marked by relentless effort, a result of sheer necessity. Unlike her brothers, nothing seemed to come naturally to her—school, sports, it all required double the hard work just to lag two steps behind them. Alcohol served as her escape, a means to shed the heavy cloak of perfectionism that enveloped her. It provided release, a fleeting respite from her self-imposed pressures. Juniper enjoyed the person she became when she drank, but the mornings after, the ensuing guilt and repercussions, they ruined her.
"Cleaned out the guest bedroom for you, Twinny," Luke's voice is gentle as he opens the bedroom door, ushering you inside. Juniper offers him a nod, accompanied by a faint smile, and steps into the room. It's devoid of any distinctive character, featuring only four white walls, a simple bed, and a closet. As she walks around, she can't help but grimace, the stark emptiness of the room triggering memories of your time in the rehab center.
Juniper gracefully lowers herself onto the edge of the bed, her fingers delicately tracing the intricate designs on the black and white duvet. Luke and Jack linger in the doorway, observing her with wordless, almost reverent gazes, as if any sound might shatter the fragile stillness of the room. She clears her throat, then turns her gaze toward her brothers. "Thanks."
While this fic will deal with heavy topics, I don't want this entire series to be super depressing, so I'll try and add equal amounts fluff!!
———
jack hughes x fem!reader
Part of the Bless the Broken Road series. Jack gets the kids up and takes them to school for the first time without readers help. Super fluffy. Might completely rewrite it, though.
"Hey, wake up." Y/N shakes Jack awake, her hand pressing into his shoulder as she takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to him.
Jack groans, stirring in his sleep, his eyes squinting open to meet her chocolate brown gaze.
"Remember, school starts at 8, kids need to be up by 7, and you need to be out the door no later than 7:45."
Y/N leaned down to plant a tender kiss on his forehead before straightening up. With grace, she retrieved her phone from the dresser and picked up her coat hanging from the back of the door. "Yeah, I know, I got it, baby," he dismissed, though when Y/N glanced back at him, his eyelids had drooped shut once more.
She flicks his cheek. "Don't fall back asleep!"
She was well aware of Jack's exhaustion, considering he had a late game last night that went into overtime. However, she had a scheduled meeting with a contractor at the bakery early in the morning, which meant Jack had to shoulder the responsibility of taking the twins to school.
Smacking her finger away, he forced his eyes open once more and sat up, leaning against the headboard. "I'm up." He rasps, "now go before you're late."
She gives him a knowing look, shaking her head. "Call me if you need anything."
"We'll be fine." He assures.
Things were definitely not fine. Jack couldn't pinpoint when or how it happened, but at some indeterminate moment, he'd drifted back into sleep, only to be roused by a gentle poking on his forehead and a soft voice by his side. He blinked his eyes open, finding his youngest son, Adler, right in front of him, his lips curved into a pout.
"Where's mommy?" Adler asks.
Jack's eyes shoot wide open, and he promptly sits up, his gaze fixed on the alarm clock perched atop the dresser, which displayed the time as 7:36. With a swift hand running through his tousled brown hair, he mutters a curse under his breath. Adler instinctively takes a step back as Jack moves abruptly, his tiny hands fidgeting nervously, forming knots of unease in front of him.
Exhaling a deep breath, Jack pushed off the covers, swinging his feet to the right side of the bed. He gently grasps Adler's shoulders, using one hand to push stray curls out of his eye line, his voice soft and reassuring. "Mommy had to go to work early today,"
Adler nods. "So no school today?"
Jack shakes his head. "I'm gonna take you. Will you wake up your brother for me, please?"
He nods, and Jack breaks into a grin, pulling Adler into a tight hug. With a gentle lift, Jack stands up, eliciting gleeful giggles from Adler as he spins them around in a circle. The sound of the child's laughter fills the quiet stillness of the house, prompting laughter of Jack's own. Setting Adler back down, the boy immediately dashes off, sprinting back to his bedroom.
———
Let me know your thoughts if you have any.
jack hughes x fem!reader (ex-situationship to lovers??)
Months ago, when Jack had insisted that you attend your first hockey game when the season started, he had presented you with one of his jerseys. It had ended up tucked away in the back of your closet, gathering dust and fading into oblivion. In fact, you'd nearly forgotten about it altogether. However, the morning after your conversation with Luke, a sudden thought about what to wear to the game had crossed your mind. You were certain of one thing: you had no intention of donning Jack's jersey. You did briefly consider asking Luke for one, but that would have been counterproductive since he shared the same last name as him. Instead, you were determined to indulge in a little pettiness.
On that particular day, you impulsively ordered a Red Wings jersey from eBay. It happened to be Moritz Seider's jersey, though you didn't really know much about him, or whether he was still actively playing or not. Frankly, you didn't care. You had no intention of cheering for the Red Wings, you simply saw the purchase as a final "fuck you" to Jack Hughes.
Reader and Jack "breakup" and so she wears a different jersey to a game to spite him. Jack gets jealous, yada yada you can probably guess the vibes.
———
trevor zegras x fem!reader (bookstore owner)
Trevor comes into readers bookshop a couple times a week, begging to take her out on a date. Might turn into a 3 times he asked and the 1 time she said yes type thing. Not sure!
"Go on a date with me." Your gaze transitions from the non-fiction books that you were presently shelving to the tall blonde on your right. He regards you with eager anticipation, awaiting your response, although it seems to be no different from all the previous rejections you've given him.
"Don't you have anything more productive to do than pester me while I'm trying to work?" Your voice carries a tinge of irritation as you descend from the small stepladder.
He offers a nonchalant shrug, feigning innocence with an expression of mock sincerity. "Just one date."
You push your way past him, making contact with his side as you stride back toward the front desk. He tails you, mirroring your movements like a lost puppy, eventually leaning his elbows casually on the tall counter, opposite to where you take a seat behind it.
"Why must you deny this obvious chemistry?" He's teasing, his face leaning on his hand as he looks intently at you. You let out a huff of laughter, settling into the spinny chair.
"Does rejection get you off or something?"
Let me know your thoughts if you have any.
———
luke hughes x fem!reader
Reader broke up with Luke months ago, and doesn't expect to see him again, but she does, and he wants answers. Angsty, but will probably have a happy ending.
You tried your best to move on from him, putting in every ounce of effort you could to try and forget him. You threw yourself into your work, deliberately steered clear of the songs that held his memory, and even canceled your ESPN Plus subscription to shield yourself from the overpowering sadness that welled up whenever you saw him on the ice.
You weren't angry with him; anger had no place in your heart. After all, you were the one who had made the difficult decision to end things with him. You had asked him to leave your apartment as he struggled through sobs, his voice filled with desperation, seeking answers about what had led to the dissolution of your relationship. And despite the tears brimming in your own eyes, you didn't break down, standing your ground as he tried to challenge your conclusion.
Your sadness clung to you like a relentless shadow, casting a long and persistent gloom over your life for months. The vibrant and extroverted girl you once were seemed like a distant memory as you found solace in the confines of your home. Days passed in mechanical, robotic-like motions, each one blending into the next in a monotonous blur. Even the cheerful banter and laughter of your co-workers, which once provided a semblance of happiness, now felt like distant echoes in the cavernous emptiness of your heart. And nights were spent curled up on the couch, lost in the embrace of comforting films from your childhood, each frame a desperate attempt to escape the crushing loneliness that had become your all-encompassing reality.
You were aware it wasn't healthy, and though that knowledge weighed on you like a heavy anchor, you made no effort to climb up to the surface for air. The relentless ache in your chest, filled with sorrow and regret over losing the boy you had loved so deeply, was like a suffocating fog, clouding your vision at every turn. You couldn't go anywhere without being haunted by phantom images of him, his presence lingering like a stubborn ghost in the back of your mind.
It only got worse in the weeks leading up to the Devils vs. Red Wings game. You were aware that he would be in town, and that knowledge sent you spiraling into self-pity and uncertainty. You had deliberately steered clear of any rumors about his dating life, but your mind couldn't help but obsessively wonder whether he still missed you. Whether he mourned the loss of your relationship, or had moved on to someone better – a fear that had haunted you ever since he moved to Jersey even before the breakup.
It's a rainy Tuesday night, and you impassively make your way to Walmart with one single purpose in mind: to purchase alcohol and junk food. Your plan was simple – to watch the game and numb your sorrows with alcohol. You were fully aware of how pathetic it might seem, but at that moment, you simply don't care.
You stretch up onto your tiptoes, straining to reach a tall bottle of merlot perched on the top shelf, your shopping basket hanging from the crook of your elbow. In your haste to secure your wine, a sudden, sharp pain pierces your sternum. Your grip falters, and the basket slips from your grasp, clattering to the floor with an ear-splitting thud. One hand flies to your chest, your fingers resting on your heartbeat that pounded wildly against the thin fabric of your shirt. Disoriented, you stumble backward, the voice of a concerned stranger echoing in the distance as your vision blurs and darkness encroaches.
Let me know if you have any thoughts.
———
jack hughes x fem!reader
Jack spends the night at Readers apartment for the first time, and asks her to move in with him. Probably would be a short blurb, maybe 1k-1.5k words and under.
"You live in this building?" Jack inquires, his gaze sweeping over the aging building, a typical five-story apartment complex in dire need of renovation. You nod at him, shutting the passenger-side door as you step out.
"Is this area safe?" He inquires, his eyes lingering hesitantly on the parking lot.
You were roughly forty minutes from Jack's neighborhood, and while this area was a bit rundown and perhaps less safe, you thankfully had never encountered any issues.
"Uh, yeah," you respond, taking Jack's hand and leading him toward the entrance. After a moment of rummaging in your bag, you locate the key to the building, insert it into the lock, and swing the door open. Jack grabs the door, gesturing for you to enter first.
Your building lacked an elevator, so you faced a long climb to the fifth floor, where apartment 48B awaited.
As you unlocked the door, you visually cringed at the chaotic scene that greeted you. Clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor, dishes forming a precarious tower in the sink. You hadn't had a chance to tidy up before Jack insisted on spending the weekend in your modest abode. And although you hesitated, knowing your apartment was far from perfect, you couldn't resist any longer. You two had been dating for about a month, and he had yet to see where you lived. He'd casually mentioned it a few times, so you knew it was time to swallow your pride and invite him over.
"Sorry bout' the mess." You apologize, nearly tripping over yourself to grab a pile of clothes off the floor.
Jack runs his hand across the wall to his right, his fingers tracing the scattered nail gun holes. "What the hell happened to the wall?" he asks, furrowing his brows in concern.
You pause in your cleaning, turning to face him. "Oh, the neighbors like to get drunk and play with their nail gun. Don't stand too close." you warn, shaking your head.
———
quinn hughes x pharmacist!femreader
Nothing started for this, but my time working in a retail pharmacy has me obsessed with writing this pairing. Might make her an OC, though. I love the idea of a badass working woman who doesn't put her life on hold just because she's married to a hockey player.
———
If you're wondering about the status of Never Have I Ever, I'm gonna be honest, I may discontinue that 🫣. Sorry! I just have no motivation to write out that storyline now, but maybe sometime in the future I will.
author's note part two: Obviously this isn't all of my wips, only some, and most haven't been edited at all and a very rough drafts, but I wanted to give you a glimpse of what I have sitting in my drafts. I also have a lot of things in my inbox that I want to get written, but I have been slacking (clearly). I also wanna do some song fics because I've never done one and think that could be cool. Again, if you have any thoughts, don't hesitate to let me know.
#quinn hughes imagine#jack hughes imagine#luke hughes imagine#dawson mercer imagine#jt compher imagine#nathan mackinnon imagine#trevor zegras imagine
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Yoooo can I see “badbatch_karaoke” and/or “cheesesin02”?
Also I’m impressed with all your WIPS - I’m super slow and tend to do just one little thing at a time. But I wish I had lots of things going that I could work on.
Heyo! Aw, thank you! These have been sitting in my folders and I mostly forget to clear off what I don't really need. Don't feel too bad, I totally get how that feels! The rest of my WIPs aren't even fully formed yet, so hopefully (hopefully) they're put down onto something soon once I find a way out of the weirdness. /gestures
ANYHOO let's get back on track and go with the badbatch_karaoke file! It's pretty straightforward: I lurked for a bit in a Bad Batch chat and there was a thing about prompts. Obviously one was about the Bad Batch having a karaoke night.
...Maybe I should actually post the whole thing at some point >:|a I"m still kind of 'eh' at the way I was drawing them at the time, but y'know /more gestures, it's there
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wip that just germinated in my brain:
Summary, I'm thinking:
"Sorry, who's this?" Robin tucks her cellphone (cellphone! Sometimes she still can't believe it) into her neck as she sorts out the groceries Steve had forgotten about (again. Ugh.).
"It's, um, Carol. Carol, Carol Perkins? I was told this was Steve Harrington's number?"
There's a faint droning sound in their warm kitchen from the dishwasher, and it smells like summer. Robin wonders how the tinny voice in her ear is supposed to reconcile with the one in the back of her head from '86, whispering 'Oh, Carol Perkins - bad news. Don't bring her up around Steve'. Minus all their late-night conversations where anything goes, obviously.
"Oh! Oh, no, well, Steve's number and mine are pretty similar I guess, so it's an honest mistake, don't worry about it, oh, and you must not know why I'm answering either way, sorry, it's - "
"Robin Buckley, I know," Carol Perkins huffs warmly. "Steve brought you to my wedding in '06. You're all good, hon."
"Right. Right, sorry, I wasn't sure you'd remember." Robin laughs. "Right, well, with that out of the way, yeah, our numbers are flipped, he's got the '45' at the end where I've got the '54', so you probably just typed it in wrong. I swear, I told that dingus we should just tell people our landline. Even the kids mix it up! Do you - Uh, do you want me to take a message? For him?"
There's an intake of breath from the other side of the line, and a sound sort of like someone's hand hitting their forehead. What did Max call it? A facepalm? Robin fans herself as she sits at the table, her notepad stolen off Family Video from way back when open with a pen poised to write down whatever Carol still wants with Steve in this day and age.
"Oh. Well, um…" At least Carol's clearly feeling as awkward as she is, yay for small mercies. "I guess it's not much of a message? I was gonna message him on Facebook, but it didn't really seem right. For this."
Robin feels a little stone drop into her gut. "For…?"
Carol laughs a little bit, like whatever comes next, she can't believe it herself. "For this, yeah. No easy way to say this, but Tom's gone."
Another stone joins the one in her belly.
"Gone?" Truthfully, Robin doesn't even care, really. Tommy Hagan's just a high school bully in her mind, save for the weird, weird days they've met since becoming (or pretending to be) functional adults. But she knows it's not the same for Steve. Steve will care.
#the realisation that I can do what I want#I can just write snippets and post them#might post the full bit too or smack it onto ao3 who knows#personally I prefer the oneshot format for writing bc figuring out chapter breaks is a pain#but multi-chaptering is easier for posting so idk#writing#stranger things#stranger things fic#tfw your jerky bff from highschool suddenly dies very young and you don't know how to feel about it#future fic#platonic soulmates stobin#stobin#steve harrington#carol perkins#tommy hagan#robin buckley
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ok... so (content planning below)
Manwha : Under The Oak Tree. Genre : smut
So I have an idea ft. Maxi, Riftan, Ruth, plus reader insert, involving oral, threesome/group sex, and guidance. It's been in the back of my mind for probably YEARS at this point and I still haven't got round to writing even an outline, but the image and idea is so clear in my head it probably won't take long to write. It's driving me crazy so I might write this one soon.
Valentine's Event : happening now!
Zodiac Event : one more tiny fic coming
Requests : still closed (thank u sm for respecting this it has been perfect, so well behaved of u all)
Thirsts/asks/chat : open
Foxtrot : ongoing! part two coming soon ft. 21+ megumi stealing toji's gf...
The Money Store : ongoing! sub toji part two coming soon because i enjoy writing it sssososo much
two longer (ish) megumi fics in progress ft. roomate au and an unusual threesome... :3
I have a paranormal fic idea that includes possession but may get quite dark. Others include mythical creatures (humanoid only, eg. succubus / incubus / hybrids etc. may go into omegaverse and hybrid characters soon)
Obviously not gonna stop writing jjk just wanna mix things up a bit.
Been enjoying lil Toru drabbles (feels like I'm practicing)
Always got Kento ideas (but I feel like it has to be particularly special to focus on it because the Kento writers on here go hard. Makes me feel like I don't need to write it as bad)
Wanna write so much for Suguru...
Got some Naoya and Choso thoughts
Also very tempted to write for the pretty boy that is Hajime Kashimo
Have a strong desire to write househusband Toji
Got a couple of tiny Yuji wips
Sukuna can suck it. (jk I can't write him for shit also the Sukuna writers out there are actually astounding)
Possible event ideas ->
1: "The Gods" event : incorporating stories of ancient myths
2: "Songspiration" : short weekly drabbles inspired by lyrics (could involve a voting system)
so feel free to come chat about anything you'd like to read in particular! ^^
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk poll#under the oak tree#uot smut#uot fanfic#riftan calypse#bleach smut#bleach fanfic#bleach poll#bleach anime#smut poll#smut fanfic#writing poll
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Wasted Time
Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
summary: giving up doesn't always have to be a bad thing
content/warnings: angst, fluff if you squint, cheating, allusions to sex, slight eddie munson x fem!reader and steve harrington x nancy wheeler. if i missed anything please let me know!
note/request: steve harrington is one of the many fictional loves of my life and it hurt so bad to write this but the inspo was there and I don't have nearly enough steve fics. i also have such mized feelings about this and barely proofread it but it has been a wip for about a month now and it's time to clear out some space for new wips
word count: 2.6k
masterlist | part 2
Steve was standing at your door. Again. He wasn't sure how it all happened, but he knew he had to be here. He hoped that an apology would be good enough, just like all the times before.
apology #1
You and Steve had been together barely a month when it came time for the first apology.
Your parents had caught Steve sneaking into your window one night and had grounded you. School, work, and home. Nothing in between.
One night during that week, they couldn't pick you up. You asked Steve and he said he would be happy to.
So, there you were, sitting outside Scoops Ahoy an hour after Steve had said he would be there. You had called him at least ten times and still, no answer. The phone didn't even ring for longer that a second each time. He was ignoring you.
You gave up about thirty minutes later, opting to call Eddie to come pick you up. You ended up getting home about two hours after you got off.
Steve had been out at a party. He checked the time at some point and noticed it was eleven. Three hours after he had promised to pick you up. He quickly said goodbye to all of his friends and rushed to your house, assuming you found a ride and didn't sit at Scoops Ahoy for three hours. He couldn't cope with the thought of you sitting there for hours waiting up for him.
Steve rushed to your window, knocking as quietly as possible in order to not wake your parents. When you saw him, you debated turning over and leaving him out there in the cold. But you just couldn't do it. You walked over to the window, unlocked it, and then laid back down on your bed.
"Baby, I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I was out at a party with a few friends and I lost track of time..." He slowly walked towards your bed as he was speaking, finally sitting on the edge as he finished his sentence.
"I needed you Steve. I needed you and you didn't show. How am I supposed to know this won't happen again? How am I supposed to ever trust you?" A part of you knew this was a seemingly minor inconvenience. But if he couldn't keep this promise, what other promises was he capable of breaking?
"I know, baby. I know. I am so so sorry. I want you to trust me. I want you to believe me. What can I do to make it up to you?" When you finally convinced yourself to look at him, you could see the regret in his eyes. The desperation.
"Well, helping me get cleaned up and changed out of these dirty clothes would be a good start." He laughed, happy you seemed to be opening up a little bit more. He did have one question still remaining though.
"Hey, how did you end up getting home by the way?"
"Oh I called Eddie for a ride." Steve snapped his head towards you, annoyance written all across his face.
"Eddie? Really? The guy who's so obviously obsessed with you? The one that's practically drooling every time you're in a room with him?" You really didn't feel like fighting about this right now. You were so physically and mentally exhausted that even the thought of it pained you.
"Can we just talk about this later? I really just want to clean off all this gunk and cuddle with my boyfriend right now." Steve smiled at you, happy that you were giving him a chance to really gain your trust. You're the first girl he's ever seen a future with. He would get to the bottom of this Eddie thing. He would make sure he wasn't in the way. You and him had to work. You just had to.
apology #2
You and Steve have now been dating for three months. Steve has really been working on his reliability and you have been working on trusting him. You haven't really had any other problems. Until now.
"Y/N, I have to go. The kids need me in Lenora Hills." Steve had just told you that we was planning to move to Lenora Hills with the Byers' just in case something happens there. You were completely against the idea.
"Steve, Joyce will be there. Jonathan will be there. God, El will be there. She can kill people with her thoughts for God's sake! They don't need you there!" Steve was fuming. You could never understand. They were like his own kids. He had to be the one to protect them.
"I don't understand why it's bothering you so much! Honestly, it's not your decision to make! I'm a grown man, Y/N! I can make my own damn decisions." Steve knew he messed up as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Of course your opinion meant everything to him. If you didn't want him to go, he could try to figure something out. He just felt like he had to be there. He had a responsibility to those kids.
"I need you here Steve! I need you here, okay?! Can I ever come first? Can you ever try to consider what I need? What I want? Does it even matter at all to you that this affects me too?!" You couldn't even look at him. He kept trying to catch your eyes, to get even a glimpse into what's going on behind the harsh words, but you wouldn't give him the chance.
"Y/N..."
"Just go Steve! If you wanna go so bad, just fucking go!" You grabbed his stuff, shoving it into his arms. You then began pushing him out the door. You didn't want him to be here any longer if he was so insistent on leaving.
He knew that trying to fix anything right now would be pointless. The argument was too recent, the pain too new. So he left without another word, intent on winning you back as soon as he got home.
months later, after Steve returns...
Steve was standing at your door. He had called you more times than he could count, you never picked up. He had been planning out all sorts of ways to apologize to you for weeks now. Flowers, gifts, he even considered screaming his apology from the rooftops of a building. None of it felt right. Nothing but the simple words 'I'm sorry'.
He knocked. He didn't know how you would react to seeing his face again. He didn't know if you'd kiss him, or if you'd tell him to go fuck himself. Either way, he couldn't dream about it anymore. He couldn't blindly hope any longer.
When you opened the door, you were shocked. You knew he was coming back, but the idea of it had never really sank in. Seeing him now, your past argument fell foolish. That's why you fell into his arms, sobbing both out of relief, and out of guilt. No matter how bad your argument was, you shouldn't have left each other without some kind of resolution.
'I'm sorry' came out of both of your mouths as if it was a prayer, the words ceasing to feel like real words at a point. You both knew a conversation would have to happen sooner or later but, for now, this was enough. This moment together would suffice for now.
present day a.k.a apology #36
You and Steve had been together for nearly 2 years now. You'd had your fair share of apologies and struggles along the way, but you always managed to find your way back to each other. Fate wouldn't let it happen any other way.
You don't really know if that made things easier or harder when you opened your door and saw him. He was holding nearly two dozen flowers, guilt painted all across his face.
About a week ago, Steve had walked out of movie night to tend to Nancy's drama. Her and Jonathan had another argument which meant Steve was gone. The worst part? This movie night was your first real date night in about six months. You had both been really busy and this was the first moment you had alone together.
When you heard Nancy's voice on the other end of the phone, you knew that Steve was going to leave within the next ten minutes. It's how it always went. Brief explanations of what had happened, kisses to your forehead, apologies about having to rush out, and promises to be back before you even noticed he was gone. He usually didn't come back until the next morning.
This time was no different. Apparently Jonathan and Nancy had gotten into it because Jonathan thought his career was more important than Nancy's and that she should learn to respect that. You felt bad for Nancy, but that didn't make you any happier to see Steve go.
The forehead kisses, apologies, and promises ended just as quickly as they had started. He was out the door. And you were, yet again, alone. Alone in yours and Steve's apartment, feeling like crap. You followed the routine, getting ready for bed and cleaning, then going to sleep without waiting up. The same damn thing. The same damn girl. The same damn pain.
When you woke up the next morning, Steve wasn't lying next to you as usual. When you heard the sink running, you knew he must've woken up already. Odd for him. But, in all honesty, he always acts odd after returning home from tending to Nancy.
You walked into the kitchen, expecting to follow the same morning routine as ever. But something was different that day, you just didn't know it yet.
"How's Nancy?" The same words as always, the same lack of real care behind them.
"Ummm.. actually I wanted to talk to you about that." Hesitation was never a good sign. Hesitation meant he was sure that the next words out of his mouth were going to piss you off.
"Nance wanted to know if I could stay with her this weekend. ya know, until Jonathan calms down." No wonder he was scared. You're pissed.
Your birthday was Saturday. You had already made plans for it. You and Steve were gonna do dinner and a drive-in movie, then have a night to yourselves. He couldn't seriously be backing out to spend time with Nancy.
"Really Steve? Really?! You want to go 'be there for her' on my birthday?! Birthdays are the one day we always promise. You can't be serious." Steve had known this wouldn't go well.
"Y'know what, Steve? Go! Go be with Nancy! We all know she's the one you want to be with anyways!" You knew your words were harsh, but it was the truth. Steve hadn't made you a priority over Nancy throughout your entire relationship. If you really think about it, he's never made you a priority in his life in general.
"Y/N c'mon, it's Nance! She needs me!" He acts like it being Nancy made it any better.
"Are you deaf, Harrington? GO! Go fucking be with Nancy. Even if you don't go, leave." Steve took the opening. He grabbed his stuff and went to kiss your cheek, receiving a glare from hell. He backed away and walked out the door, he didn't even look back once.
A few days later, you were hanging out with Robin. You could tell she had something important to tell you. You just couldn't figure out what it was.
"Robin, what's wrong? You've seemed off all day." She finally looked over at you, pity soaking into even the deepest parts of her eyes.
"Y/N, there's no right way to tell you this so I'm just gonna say it. Steve slept with Nancy."
Now he was here. Why? You didn't really know. You had made it clear you didn't want him here.
"Y/N...."
"Go fuck yourself, Harrington." There was his answer this time around. You went with go fuck yourself. Honestly, he didn't know what he expected. You had every right to be pissed. He really fucked up this time.
"Y/N, please. Haven't we always said anything could be worked out?" You broke. A piece of you broke right there. How dare he throw that back at you. He cheated on you! That in no way compares to forgetting to pick you up after work.
"Don't go there with me Steve. I have forgiven you countless times for things that should've been the end right there! Leaving to go to Lenora Hills without even thinking to talk with me about it! Questioning me about getting a ride home from Eddie when you're the one who left me sitting at work for HOURS! Not to mention how I always let you leave to help Nancy any time she needs any fucking thing! Now, you fucking sleep with her and you expect me to forgive you like it's nothing! You never fucking prioritize me Steve! It's like I'm always your second choice! Fuck you Steve. Fuck you and the bitch you rode in with."
Steve was in shock. He had never really thought about what he's put you through. He was blinded, blinded by the unconditional love and never-ending forgiveness. He never realized how lucky he was to have you.
"I have one more thing to ask you Steve Harrington. Was she worth it? Was she worth ruining what we had?" He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what answer he could give you that would suffice for all that's he's done. He decided honesty was th best thing he could give to you, the thing you deserved the most.
"I'm sorry Y/N. She was worth it. I'm sorry for everything." He began to walk away, thinking that the conversation was over. But he had one more thing he had to add.
"Y'know why she was worth it? She made me realize I don't deserve you. I don't deserve someone that loves me so much and is so forgiving of all of the shit I've done. She made me realize that I'm not good enough for you. That I'll never be good enough for you." He turned around again, knowing he said everything he needed to say.
"Steve!" He whipped his head around, hoping for a miracle. Hoping what he said evoked a magical moment of forgiveness.
"I hope Nancy makes you love her as much as I loved you." He turns away yet again, walking towards the car.
"Hey! I wasn't done!" He turns around again, knowing your words were going to hurt rather than heal.
"I hope she makes you love her, and then I hope she cheats. I hope she makes you feel the same way about her that I feel about you right now."
With that, you walked back into your house, slamming the door. You started collecting his things and any photos with him in them, they're just more pictures to burn. His other shit? You would just give it to Robin.
You were done with Steve Harrington. You were done with his stupid apologies. You were done with his shitty list of priorities, and mostly, you were done not being loved the way you should be.
Maybe you should give Eddie a call. Not only do you need a friend, but it'll also piss Steve off. That thought alone had you sprinting to the phone, typing his number in faster than you ever have before.
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taglist form
@dunbarsjersey @hearts4albony
#steve harrington#steve the hair harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x reader angst#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington fanfiction#st#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#nancy wheeler#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x nancy wheeler#tw cheating#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x fem!reader angst#steve harrington x fem!reader fluff
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Ok ok I was wondering. What are the love languages of your ships? Redbomb or the band polycule. I feel like Osha love language is physical contact but I really can't see what it could be for those uglies messes called Trafalgar D Water Law and Buggy The Star Clown.
Love your work! ♥
Oooook now that's something I was starved to think about for a long time SO thank you so much (and thank you for loving my work!!! I'm glad that my completely delusional manic attacks aren't totally useless)
SO. FIRST. Easy one : Redbomb.
Let's evacuate the joke already their principal love language is throwing insults to each other and arguing and then fuck and repeating the cycle.
BUT more deeply : Buggy love language is mostly acts of service & gifts. It's kinda surprising at first because he obviously do it all over the top. AND he's pretty bad at it. Like, when Red get really sick, he spent hours in the kitchen making her what he thinks is the most comforting food ever. But you know, Blaze cooking skills were inherited from him, so she end with a plate full of Cheerios, smashed potatoes, cheddar and knackies (wait. Are knacki a thing outer UE?? those are really bad quality industrial sausages for the record), and her beloved husband looking at her all proud like "♥ 😁 I made that!!". And he spoils his kids with really outrageously expensive gifts. (Skye abuses it a little sometime)
Red' love language is mostly words of affirmation! Acts of service too but unlike buggy she's skilled with it. Her major flaw with that would be that she's offering acts of services even when people she loves don't act for them. Mommy style you know ? Wipping something on Rory's cheek with her thumb in front of his very first boyfriend.
For the record : Rory love language is he don't have any because he hates everyone act of services, Skye's is offering gifts & quality time, Blaze's is physical touch! (which can be dangerous with his devil fruit powers)
NOW. BRACE YOURSELF BECAUSE THIS IS GONNA BE HEAVY. The worst polycule of all time is entering the chat :
G.R.O.A.R LOVE LANGUAGE
I'll try to make it short because I could write a fucking THESIS about them SO. I think that they all have kinda different love languages according to which relationship we are talking about you see ? Like :
Osha x Law : Osha love language is physical touch (as in: big bear hugs that break his spine every time) and acts of service (as in: they make sure he eats, drink, and bring him to the vet like the injuried cat he is. Oh and they're also Law's biggest protector. Always saving his damsel in distress ass. On the other hand I FIRMLY believe that Law love language is quality times AND, for Osha, and only for Osha (and maybe a bit for Bepo - NOT A LAWBEPO ACCOUNT plz love language like for his best friend who is also a polar bear, which is pretty rad if you ask me, would a loser have a polar bear??) act of services. Quality time as in : he just loves spending lazy afternoon lying on their lap with a bong ranting about the stupidity of everyone around him. Act of services as in : one day Osha's bakery oven was broken and he replaced it as a surprise, without telling them anything. This kind of thing you see? They never really confessed and they totally deny they are dating but - come on. Guys. That's obvious.
Osha x Kidd : what's going on between them like - nobody knows. They are bad for each other. No. Kidd is bad for Osha. Are they dating. Are they like... friends? with benefits? but the benefit isn't sex??? Wtf. Anyways : their love language is physical touch and quality time, but not like for Osha x Law, more like: Shrek and fiona fighting in this clip
youtube
Law x Kidd : "AHAHAHA love language! as if we LOVED each other??? we fuck and that's all. Friend...ship? with this pathetic loser? URGH DON'T KIDDING ME" - anyway Law shows Kidd affection by quality time, and here quality time means "I'm not as unbearable as usual when I'm with you" while Kidd love language is... idk, bullying? physical touch but like slapping his back really hard and stuffing him in a locker? scruffing him and yelling "hey that's MY twink è_é I'm the only one allowed to hurt MY twink è_é"
KiddKiller *chief kiss* The only stable relationship in this polycule. Which means... a lot, look at them. ANYWAY - Kidd love language toward Killer is words of affirmations, like, it's canon, look at the anime. Look how he talks about him. "WHO DID THIS TO MY BUDDY?" aaaah *cry and sobb* (didn't get there in the anime yet but was totally spoiled this scene and I KNOW I'm gonna cry my ass out). But since Kidd has the vocabulary of a 14 y.o it's still complicated. "brooooo you're like peanut butter to my jam". AND of course Killer love languages are act of services (understand : following him everywhere and protecting his ass and being his only braincell).
LawKiller & OshaKiller aren't really a thing in this AU soooo we're gonna put them aside.
Also this post is already too long.
anyway THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK. ♥
#buggy the clown#captain buggy#redbomb family#buggy#redbombshipping#one piece oc#redbomb triplets#redbomb#buggy one piece#G.R.O.A.R#G.R.O.A.R polycule#G.R.O.A.R Au#Oc x canon#one piece original character#osha the bear#berwald osha#trafalgar law#trafalgar d water law#eustass kid#eustasscaptainkid#one piece eustass#one piece#one piece killer#massacre soldier killer#kidkiller#kid x killer#lawkid#kid x law#kid x law x killer#ask sid glorious
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What I posted about yesterday was a mistake.
I wasn't supposed to upload it and never should. I'm sorry for wasting everyone's time, but I think I need to take a break from Tumblr for a while.
I've messed up people I was with so bad and I know I could never change what I did. Even a simple apology won't do anything. Just an awful/horrible person I am. I really thought I'd change for the better but obviously I didn't.
Bye everyone Hope you all have a good day/night.
Update:
I am feeling alright now. I've decided to work on myself instead of grieving. I currently already have some drawings done, but I'll continue to stay away from Tumblr a bit now just to focus on more important things.
About my ex-friend and the artist, I no longer want their forgiveness. They made their choice so I'm okay with that. I'll probably make a new confession with more detail, but I barely have any proof of the things I did and I don't have much memory since I remove, distance myself, or delete as many things as possible. I erase any traces related to them. It's how I cope with things. Since the post from yesterday was meant to be a WIP I would add more and edit it.
Anyway, I'm also working on the dreamwarriors comic again. The new shading style is killing me, lol ;v;. I might also try to find ways to get the pages down faster.
I do have some more reference sheets so I can get those done.
That's all I got for now.
For those in the replies, thank you so much for all the support, and yes, everything I've done is in the past and I'm only focusing on the present.
Alright, I'm stopping because my braincells are dying, lol
Again thank you all, have a good day/night
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what you said about maxiel fanfics with endgame lest4ppen, yes, I agree. someone mentioned this before, but maxiel is slowly dying on ao3 while it seems to be thriving more and more on tumblr.
for me it's 50/50 because I don't mind where I'm reading, but here we have more one-shots and pieces of WIPs (which is good because it means authors don't feel the pressure to turn everything into a 50k story, so they can just post their ideas even if it's incomplete), but I personally LOVE longer stories, so I would love to read more and more about every single one of them.
and personally I just don't like lest4ppen at all. I understand the need to tag maxiel because daniel is the bad guy and the "shitty boyfriend" or whatever, but I just don't like seeing those stories 😬
will always preface asks like this by saying people can like what they like and find joy in whatever, i ain't gunna turn my nose up at anyone or anything, lestappen just doesn't make sense to meeee personally, but honestly whatever butters ur bread!!!
as someone who has dabbled here and there in this writing lark, for me there is a distinct difference in ao3 posting and tumblr posting....ao3 to me is formal, ur presenting something perfect, a fully-fledged story, a beginning a middle and an end (not in all cases but i just mean in general). most stuff i read on ao3 is fully-fledged nuanced ideas that the author has obviously spent hours of time crafting and experimenting with.
tumblr fic is inherently fun and blase and easier to throw out there into the ether and forget about really. tumblr fic doesn't need to follow grammatical rules or structure etc etc....it can just be a fun prompt game response or a quick lil fic that you had fun writing and wanna share with ur people?? both have purposes and both are enjoyable to write imo, just depends on what ur feeling and how much u want to expand on said idea??
when it comes to the maxiel of it all....idk how rude or pointed i can get here without getting into shit....so i'll try and word this gently....you have to keep the eco-system alive....i think comments and kudos are GREAT but honestly, if someone reblogs my fic with a fun few tags, i love that more, because in a selfish way, i might get 1 or 2 more readers from that because its going out to an even wider audience?? but its more than that!! engage with ur writers, message them on here and shout at them about their ideas, send them prompts, recommend their fic to ur friends...but i will stand by i think one of the best things you can do, if they make a fun lil post or graphic for their fic...reblog it...ur not only spreading the maxiel gospel, but ur also supporting that writer?? too many times on here i see people's fic graphics flop yet big blogs are leaving them comments on ao3 and look, EACH TO THEIR OWN and also i can sometimes be a bad reblogger dont get me wrong, but LIKE, there are some wildly talented authors on here who just need to be pushed into the limelight a little bit more??? idk if im wording this correctly, but sometimes there are fics that fall through the cracks because no one engages with them, and if ur an author who has put blood sweat and tears into that fic, ur not exactly going to be motivated to post another maxiel fic if u dont think ur going to get engagement from it (again, fic writing isn't necessarily about engagement or response, but let me tell u when i get a fun little comment or someone messages me about a fic i published, it inspires me to write more????)
maxiel is definitely alive and kicking, i follow some stunningly good maxiel authors, but at the same time, its about pushing forward those smaller writers as well and not thinking ur too cool for them???????????????
and so with that, this flufftober, kinktober, spooktober or whatever tober u are a part of, reblog the fic, talk about the fic and enjoy the fic
#if u can understand what i am trying to say here then well done cause i dont think i even do#mean thats a lie i do know what im trying to say but i know a lot of people would hate me if i said what i actually wanted to say :))#anon#asks
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-20 asks for Fic Writers-
hey!! I was tagged by @basicallyjaywalker to do this tag game, so ty for the tag rook!! :D
for tags, hmm... @taddymason @lightning-chicken @toastingpencils37 @lavful @weekend-whip and any fic writer that wants to do this!!
-
1.How many works do you have on AO3?
4 of them!
2. What's your total AO3 wordcount?
23,088 as of now :D
3. What fandom(s) do you write for?
so far, only ninjago, but I might write for another fandom at some point? not sure but it's pretty much only ninjago that I write for
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
I only have four of em on AO3 (and one on here), but here we go:
The one I've known since I was I was only just a kid at 85 kudos
I'm not sick, I swear at 61 kudos
As the years pass by (the old version) at 23 kudos
Thank you for being a friend at 18 kudos
5. Do you respond to comments?
YES. I always get a bit too excited when I see them and I literally cherish every single one, so even if it's just a keysmash I always respond <33
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angiest ending?
with almost all of my fics ending on a fairly happy note so far, The one I've known since I was only just a kid easily sticks out like a sore thumb with it's ending lmao
7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I think it'd def be I'm not sick, I swear! it's basically the only actual fluff fic w/o angst I've published so far lmao
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I hope I never will, but I mean- there was that one comment on my old version of atypb where this person complained about the wait and how they've been waiting 'a year' so 💀I don't know if that counts as hate but it's annoying af
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
nope, nope, nope 🤺
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I don't! I'm not sure if I'm open to it, tho
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
thankfully no I haven't, and I really do hope not
12. What's the longest time you've spent working on a fic? And what's the shortest?
the longest one would definitely be the old version of atypb (the new ver which I hope to release soon will beat that tho I think), and the shortest would be I'm not sick, I swear! I literally wrote that fic in like almost 2 hrs or smth while I was struck with the cold myself lmao
13. Have you ever co-written a fic?
nope! I do feel up to it tho tbh
14. What's your all time favourite ship? From all the fandoms?
...do I really have to choose? like rook said, this is an awful question for a multishipper lmao
since I can't decide, I think they'd be raincloud, lost and jaya!
15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
that one lostshipping fic I wrote back in november or smth and never got back to it, I so badly wanna finish it but I can't :')) (although now that finals are done, I could try getting back to it)
16. What are your writing strengths?
shoot, uhhh Idk?? I think it's when it comes to describing smth I guess (so description basically)
17. What are your writing weaknessess?
honestly, I think it'd be dialogue, I don't know why I struggle with it often :') I am trying to get better tho!
edit: and while I haven't written any so far, I think fight scenes is also a weakness for me :') (well technically I did in the old version of atypb, but lets- lets just ignore that)
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
*smacks google translate* this bad boy can fit so much translation in it (unless it's arabic w/ it being my language n all..arabic fus7a, however-)
19. First fandom you wrote for?
ninjago, obviously 😎
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
I think it'd be definitely The one I've known since I was only just a kid!
-
#tag game#ninjago#writer tag game#rook tag#levi's beloved mutual(s) <3#this was really fun to do tbh!!!
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Hi Pia,
Behind-the-scenes-fic-ask, number 21 and falling falling stars please ❤️
21. What is something you didn't expect people to notice or gravitate towards in this fic?
Ooooo, okay, actually quite a few things!
So the biggest one is that I just never expected to have Dr Gary be anything more than an extremely minor character that Efnisien mostly reflected on. I never planned to write whole sessions, and the first one was only a section of a chapter rather than a whole chapter, because I thought readers would hate it.
I actually really hate reading a lot of fictional therapy sessions, especially when that's not the focus of the fic. Most fictional therapy sessions read like 'therapist is narrating pop psychology and telling this character everything they want to hear and they're subbing in for a kind parental figure' at best.
There are exceptions to that, but for the most part, I find that boring - it feels like a kind of writing that is not quite lazy, but a bit 'there are other more interesting ways to share this.' Therapists don't feel like real people in those circumstances, with their own motives, thoughts, intentions and drives. They feel like an extended part of the character's brain, or they feel like an empty function.
But Dr Gary was like, was a hit. I was getting a lot of asks about him, a lot of interest about him in the comments, and in the first few chapters, me and my beta actually kind of shipped him and Efnisien together before he met Arden (that's how we ended up with Underline the Black lol).
So yeah, that's the biggest one!!! And that one is a pretty big one. :D
Otherwise, I was also surprised by (but maybe shouldn't have been) how many Kadek/Efnisien shippers there are and Kadek/Efnisien/Arden shippers. I was like...hmm...how can I put this - Kadek has darker brown skin, and in those cases some readers don't really go for that chemistry. He's also 20~ years older than Efnisien, though he doesn't act like it, lol. Like, I personally shipped them even though I wasn't going to write them into the main story, but I was very reserved/aware that people might not want that. Especially with how confrontational and sometimes even mean Kadek can be.
Honestly that was like, probably the nicest surprise. It wasn't that I expected people to be awful, often I try and go in with fairly open expectations, it was more like I was prepared for people to not feel/see what I was feeling/seeing about a character. And I was okay with that, because he's a side character. But we got way, way more scenes with Kadek because of how people responded to him.
This story really couldn't have been what it became without the readers! The best part about not planning a story is I can follow the kind of momentum of readers. I don't believe in caving to fanservicey stuff, but I do believe in 'oh you're open to this? I can give you more of this!' or 'oh you like him!!! Yay!! I do too! Let's experiment with a whole therapy session chapter and see how y'all feel about it.'
:D That's my favourite part of writing, honestly. I actually kind of feel bad for the people who don't read fics as they go like this, and just read it all when it's completed at the end. Because they miss this kind of alive creation of this ongoing story, and they miss being a part of it. And obviously they also miss the agony of waiting for chapters, but as someone who reads WIPs myself, idk there's something very cool about seeing something come to life - especially like, if say early on you are like 'I love this character so much' and then a bunch of other people say it, and then the author is like 'well this character can make the story stronger so good news everyone, I'm putting him in more because you all love him so much.'
That's... like... *chef's kiss*
~
From this meme!
#asks and answers#memey goodness#falling falling stars#dr gary konowalous#kadek setiawan#initially kadek was quite a lazy character for me in that#he was very loosely based on a good friend of mine#and then it was like oh let's...#let's really do this#efnisien would never have gotten that piano as a gift from kadek#if it wasn't for y'all and i appreciate that
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Hello, Tumblr! It's WIP Wednesday!
I think I'm gonna switch some stuff up because I haven't been getting much interaction with my WIP Wednesday game for a while, which is understandable. After a while of the same things, it isn't as exciting anymore and just gets boring.
So for this week, I'm gonna start a (no pressure) tag game! If you don't like participating in these, you don't have to, and if I tag you and you don't want to, PLEASE feel free to let me know. I don't want to be that annoying moot in your activity every week.
That said, here are the rules.
If I tag you, you can send 500-1000 words if your current WIP if you're a writer, your current WIP or WIPs if you're an artist, or both if you're both!
Then, once you're done, you can tag as many or as few people you want! Once again, NO PRESSURE! You can do or not do this as you please! ^^
Gonna get the tags out of the way first
@deadrabbithq @killingthecringe @nodulemodule
Starting with the art WIP, I have Silver's ref that I'm working on for To Catch a Hedgehog (as requested by the poll I put out)
And underneath the cut, here's about 500 words from To Catch a Hedgehog (if you don't like sonadow, no need to look under this cut. Ik at least one of the people I tagged isn't too big on it so yeah, no need to read if you're not into it lol)
"Informant. Now, why haven't you moved yet?"
Sonic: "SO YOU WERE STALKING ME! GO AWAY!"
Shadow: "I told you, it's not stalking. And I'm trying to save your ass."
Sonic: "After trying to take me out? Nah. I'm good."
Shadow: "Look, I get it. But if you don't get out of the city, Robotnik is going to fire me and sick somebody else on you, and I doubt they'd be as merciful as I have been."
Sonic: "Huh... 'have been'... interesting word choice. Okay, I'll bite. Why do you want to save me so bad when it's obviously putting your job at risk? I'm literally the person trying to wake people up and get Butt-nik out of power. Why are you turning on your boss?"
Shadow didn't respond for a while. Why was he doing this? Sonic was right. He was putting his job, hell, maybe even his life on the line for a random guy. But this random guy was the only person stubborn enough to pull the kind of stunt he did. But if Robotnik wanted him dead so bad, then maybe it was because it was working.
Besides, while Shadow had a job, it wasn't pleasant. It had never been something he wanted. He remembered wanting to help people, help Maria. He remembered saving up for medical school... before Ivo took out the council. Now he'd ended too many lives with his own hands.
Maria would have hated the person he'd become. He sure did.
Her face flashed in his mind's eye. Her smile, encouraging.
He swallowed. Then he typed out his reply.
Shadow: "You're not the only one who's lost people you loved to that monster."
Sonic didn't reply for a bit. Shadow wasn't sure if he was going to, if that was a good enough reason to listen to him.
Several minutes later, there was a new reply.
Sonic: "I guess everyone has. But then why have you gone along with it for so long?"
Shadow: "In the moment, I guess it beats starving."
Sonic: "...Yeah, I still don't trust you. How do I know you're not gonna come here and murder me in my sleep anyway?"
Shadow: "If I were going to do that, I already would have."
Sonic: "Sure... Anyway, is that all? Because I'm hungry and I can smell my roommate making chili."
Shadow: "No. I want to know how you got those paintings up so fast. And you said you'd seen it when people become completely cybernetic. How?"
Sonic: "Question numero uno, trade secret. Question numero dos, you don't want to know."
Shadow: "I work for the government and even I don't know. I didn't even know that could happen."
Sonic: "Oh, it does. All the time. Not pretty."
Shadow: "How do you know?"
Sonic: "...Alright, look. I'm gonna set up a more secure account (and probably burn this one). I'll message you on the one condition that you don't tell anyone who I am. We can go from there after I've eaten."
Shadow: "Fair enough."
#wip#wip wednesday#art wip#writing wip#tag game#sonic the hedgehog#sonadow#<- in case anyone on this corner of tumblr is interested in the writing wip#tw // mentions of violence#tw // mentions of death#first time starting a tag game#if anyone else would like me to tag them next week lemme know too!#My DMs and replies are open XD
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tagged by @cateringisalie - tagging @darrelodin, @bad0mens (but don't feel obligated obviously!)
How many works do you have on ao3? 138
2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 434,082
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Persona 5, Octopath Traveler 2 are the active ones; previously wrote quite a bit for Bravely Default and some for Final Fantasy VII.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Perhaps unsurprisingly, these are all P5 fics. Also the top two really ARE the two fics I started on the p5 kinkmeme lol! (They had non-kink prompts as well)
When the Cat Dragged In the Trickster (2172) - AU where Ann is the PT leader; when Morgana runs away, he recruits the delinquent who sits behind her in class. Hiatus'd for way too long, I do want to resume it I just kind of. psyched myself out hard lol
Our Partner is Who? (1471) - no metaverse AU. Plays fast and loose with how Japanese school works to force Ryuji and Ann to work with "the scary delinquent" for a project. They realize he's not as bad as the rumors say.
Infringe (1039) - not all Joker Palace fics do this (or have a fairly ironclad reason for doing it), but a number have the thieves break the rule of a unanimous vote to investigate Joker's Palace behind his back. This is about how that could go wrong.
Stall and Crash (997) - Things go very wrong during a battle in Shido's Palace when a status effect sends Joker's mind back to the interrogation room.
Overload (623) - Minutes after summoning Satanael, Ren collapses in Shibuya square. Spurred by a prompt about giving p5 a p3-esque end (though, notably, Ren doesn't actually die...but at the point it leaves off, he's not in a good state, either)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I try to. I don't always. I have a bad tendency to overthink and so I can get myself with "am I saying this right/did I respond to everything/AUGH IT'S BEEN TOO LONG".
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Oh gosh if you wanna go way back in time to fanfiction.net I feel like some of the Shadow Hearts fic might count lol BUT actually. In recent ao3 memory. Killing Hope is a fic that explores a timeline where Ren sold out his friends in the interrogation room, and now that he's dead and most of the Phantom Thieves are captured, Akechi is setting out to tie up one last loose end. It is 100% a bad time.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Heaven Never Could Describe reunites Maruki and Rumi. Like it could have been even sappier. But it's already pretty sappy.
8. Do you get hate on fic?
Not really. I've occasionally gotten overbearing crit or a backhanded bookmark ("not as good as [different fic with somewhat similar premise]") but in terms of getting outright hate I've been lucky.
9. Do you write smut?
No. Like I have, if you really dig through ao3 and ff.net profiles you can find it, but I barely read it and the stars gotta align for me to want to write it.
10. Do you write crossovers?
No. Occasionally I like to pitch an idea off the cuff but it's rare for one to compel me into writing. Do think p5 x aa fics are fun but I haven't had any particularly strong ideas for one myself.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not to my knowledge.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not to my knowledge.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No, I haven't had the best luck with partner projects so I always feel like that might just drive me and/or the partner nuts lol
14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?
Tiznes is still pretty nice lol although I feel like OF ALL TIME it'd probably have to be Clerith.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?
Overload would be nice to finish but is probably dead in the water. To be fair to myself, it was spontaneously spurred on by an ask and never did have a firm plot to begin with, just headcanon about what couldcause Ren to have a near-death experience at the end of p5. There were some vague thoughts about how to have him recover/how MUCH he'd recover (one idea was that while he recovers enough to do basic self-care like eating/dressing and can hold conversations and do some simple tasks, it's dicey, at least in the fic's time frame, if he'll ever recover enough to be fully self-sufficient in the future and the team recognizes that and tries to help him have a safety net)/even a thought about pulling in p5r elements (it was started before royal came out but has no contradictions iirc) but at this point. it's easier to say "that was interesting but I don't know how to finish it" and move on.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I feel like I'm fairly good at digging into characters and getting their motivations right?
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Getting stuck on projects in ways where I feel like I can't even write like I can string one word to another but I've completely lost any perspective of how anything connects in an interesting way
WHEN THE BRAIN FOG ROLLS IN IT'S LIKE SILENT HILL
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Don't lol
I have done it, in a very old Shadow Hearts fic, but honestly unless the POV character has decent proficiency in the target language they'd have trouble parsing it anyway, and if they're fluent they can just understand and "hear" it as...what it means in the language you're writing in. There are occasions it may make sense but I think most time it's more trouble than it's worth.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Shadow Hearts according to my ff.net profile but that's because I deleted my very first ff7 fic off there lololol
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
for all the headache it's caused me I do like When the Cat Dragged in the Trickster
for an oldie tho. I like What Crossdressing Says About Character (ff7 fic about Cloud & Aerith in the sector six segment).
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get to know me tag game
Thanks @littlewinnow for tagging me!
Three Ships: drarry, obviously; lamen, most ardently; victurri, although I don't really participate in fandom.
First Ship: oof, I don't remember! I can tell you that the first fic I ever wrote was about Seamus. His mum wanted him to become a Death Eater, I think?? It was mostly teenage angst, as I was, well, a teenager, and - yeah.
Last Song: Fresh Feeling, Eels. guess I need all the good vibes.
Last Movie: we watched Indiana Jones 5 because I'm a huge phoebe waller-bridge fan!
Currently Reading: Very invested in @unleashed-fest, although my severely-shot attention span isn't allowing very fast progress. What I read so far was BRILLIANT.
Last Thing I Wrote: *whispering* a fic for unleashed! Also I'm doing flufftober, a short, soft thing for every day so far (and SO impressed with myself for STILL going at it). Here's a link if anyone's interested!
Currently Writing: god, I, er. There are so many wips. My main goal is to get back to my WHUMPY fic, imperfection, but that might take a while.
Are you named after anyone? nope. I will say that one of my names means grace or beauty, and my mum was very worried about naming me that because she was scared of - irony, I guess. (I'm not very graceful. 😂)
Favorite Subject in School: probably English literature, although I carried on with biology in the end.
Do you have kids? No. I'm at an age where everyone's asking about it, and I still don't have an answer!
When was the last time you cried? not a very good crier. Still learning to be a bit more gracious with myself.
Do you use sarcasm a lot? hmm. I don't think I do. Also, and it's very sad, but I cannot fib to save my life - every time I try I start laughing uncontrollably. People know I'm full of it by the time I crack a grin. For example, I got through three sentences about the 'wolf fish' I'd seen in the med sea before losing my breath laughing.
What sports do you play/have played? none? I love hiking, walking, swimming, dunno if that counts as 'playing'. I did do a bit of gymnastics? Could do the splits till I was about 14. Now, I can barely move, haha.
What’s the first thing you notice about people? their mood.
Any special talents? I'm very good at certain board games, does that count? Also at making up things - backstories, animals, (bad, bad) jokes, songs. Story-teller, what can I say.
Where were you born? not where I grew up 🙃
What are your hobbies? reading, writing, hiking, animal spotting, pointing at randomly delightful things all around me, noticing the world, etc.
How tall are you? I'm 5'5 or 165 cm
Dream Job: ooh. Maybe running a b&b with my partner by a large body of water (or a small one, I'm not picky), writing in the backroom or something. He's got the hospitality experience, and I've got - patience. And I love talking to people!
no idea who did this already but waving at @phoebe-delia, @basicallyahedgehog, @crazybutgood and @getawayfox.
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